Justice
IL FOGLIO AI •
Defenders of due process in the Garlasco case. Is it possible, if we forget for a moment who we think the culprit is?
Andrea Sempio is currently the subject of an investigation, and an investigation is not a verdict. The principle of due process must hold these two statements together without turning the first into a dogma and the second into an alibi. The stories reported in the newspapers show just how easy it is, during a major investigation, to shift from gathering evidence to constructing a narrative around a figure.
6 OCT 26
Translated by AI

(Photo: Ansa)
Upholding due process does not mean determining who is innocent. It means preventing speculation, psychological profiling and parallel trials from taking the place of evidence. This applied to Stasi. It applies today to Sempio.
How can we uphold due process in the Garlasco case? We start by doing something extremely difficult: setting aside for a few minutes who we think the culprit is. Alberto Stasi has been definitively convicted of the murder of Chiara Poggi, and a new investigation does not overturn a conviction. Andrea Sempio is currently the subject of an investigation, and an investigation is not a conviction. The principle of due process must reconcile these two statements without turning the first into a dogma and the second into an alibi. The stories reported in the press show just how easy it is, during a major investigation, to shift from gathering evidence to constructing a character. A thirteen-page ‘psychological assessment’ of Stasi has resurfaced in the RIS files; it is undated and lacks a handwritten signature, was never filed in the case proceedings and, according to what has emerged, was never formally commissioned by the public prosecutor’s office. It described him as ‘cold’, ‘calculating’, ‘manipulative’, having ‘narcissistic tendencies’ and being ‘hyper-controlling’. This is extremely powerful material for constructing a narrative character, but far less so for establishing who committed a murder.
An investigator may form impressions, and contradictions must be investigated. But there is a fine and crucial line between verifying a contradiction and turning the suspect’s character into evidence – all the more so when assessments are made without a direct interview, based solely on statements and fragments of their life. ‘Cold’ is not evidence. ‘Narcissist’ is not evidence. Not crying as we expect them to is not evidence. Criminal proceedings exist precisely to prevent the gap between what strikes us as strange and what we can prove from being filled by impressions.
The evidence should build the profile of the culprit, not the other way round. It is the oldest risk in investigation: falling in love with a hypothesis. From that point on, every ambiguous detail points in the same direction. If you are calm, you are cold-blooded; if you are agitated, you are hiding something. If you remember too much, you are prepared; if you remember too little, you are lying. The suspicion thus becomes impossible to disprove. However, upholding due process also means avoiding the opposite approach. It would be paradoxical to denounce today the prejudice that may have characterised the Stasi and then use the same method against Sempio tomorrow. The new suspect cannot become the ‘real culprit’ simply to satisfy media demands. This is the difference between the principle of due process and the ‘innocence-first’ approach. The ‘innocence-first’ advocate chooses their own innocent person. The advocate of due process chooses a method. In the Garlasco case, this means less psychology, fewer fan clubs, fewer culprits constructed on the basis of intuition. More cross-examination, more method, more caution. And above all, more evidence. Always.