
Through The Looking Glass: Curiosity v Closure in Inquests and Research

Closure is often acknowledged as a need of bereaved family members, who engage in court processes in the hope of learning the truth concerning the death of their relative (Templeton, Jacobson & Murray, 2024; Easton, 2017). This victim-centred approach is valuable in assessing whether court processes are responsive to those who have lost loved ones. However, less attention has been given to the drive for closure amongst decision-makers within death investigation processes. More hidden still is the motivation for closure amongst criminological researchers, who enter court spaces hoping to find a coherent dataset from which to build an academic argument. This post reflects upon empirical research on the South African inquest process at magistrates’ courts in the Western Cape. Drawing upon findings from the study, as well as the research experience, I explore the human need for closure, and its impact upon decision-making by criminal justice actors, and researchers.
An inquest is a court case which takes place to investigate an unnatural death. In South Africa an inquest takes place where a decision has been made not to prosecute in relation to the death, or where criminal proceedings have been withdrawn. The magistrate will make findings concerning the identity of the deceased, their cause of death and whether anyone can be held criminally liable. The finding of criminal liability does not amount to a criminal conviction, nor does it compel the National Prosecuting Authority to prosecute. The National Prosecuting Authority may instate a prosecution after the conclusion of an inquest, however in practice this rarely occurs. South Africa has a high murder rate and a low detection rate, meaning that only a small percentage of suspects are apprehended and prosecuted (Institute for Security Studies, 2020; National Prosecuting Authority, 2023). Meanwhile, detectives frequently carry more than 200 dockets each. Many unsolved murder dockets go ‘cold’ and are closed as inquest cases. Detectives face pressure from superiors to close inactive cases in order to meet targets.
Closure can be understood, inter alia, as the procedural ending of a defined process; an emotional or spiritual resolution, or a sense of conclusion. During interviews with inquest detectives, court clerks, magistrates, and prosecutors that I conducted whilst researching inquest decision-making, the drive for closure emerged as a significant preoccupation. Twelve of 32 interview participants emphasised the importance for bereaved family members of obtaining closure. One acknowledged that closure, through bringing the truth to light, was also important to his own sense of job satisfaction. However, analysis of case files revealed that this drive for closure often took a more sinister turn. Seemingly, decision-makers preferred not to ask questions, reaching premature conclusions that no further information could be found. This manifested in lack-lustre investigations by detectives, and an unwillingness by magistrates to probe within inquest inquiries.
These observations resonate with psychological literature on the ‘drive for cognitive closure’, which can be understood as the motivation to reach a satisfactory resolution to a task. Whilst concluding and resolving cases is a fundamental aspect of criminal justice work, the drive for cognitive closure can lead to unhealthy shortcuts, such as stereotyping. When motivated by the need for cognitive closure, the decision-maker tends to ‘freeze’ their thinking, seize upon a possible solution, and show reluctance to consider other possibilities. The need for cognitive closure also encourages us to rely upon readily accessible information rather than looking harder and deeper for the best and most reliable sources of intelligence.
The drive for cognitive closure increases in criminal justice role-players in circumstances where they are operating under fatigue, workload pressures, and time constraints. Criminal justice decision-makers may also have a self-selecting inclination towards a higher need for cognitive closure, because they have opted for a career of binary decision-making. A Swedish study compared the drive for cognitive closure in undergraduate students with detectives. It found that the detectives had a higher need for cognitive closure than the students. Meanwhile the students retained a higher level of curiosity, known as ‘epistemic drive.’ Students were less likely to ascribe guilt to suspects, unless a motive was presented. They were also more likely to heed exonerating factors, whereas detectives showed a higher ‘guilt bias.’
As a lawyer-turned-researcher, I became increasingly aware of my own vacillation between curiosity and seeking closure within the inquest research. These fluctuations depended on my own time limitations, state of mental wellbeing, comfort or discomfort within the research space, and perceived familiarity or otherwise with the material that I was researching. Initially, I noted the minutiae of each case file. However, I quickly found myself beginning to fall into the trap of classifying cases as ‘stock’ types. As I transferred selected information from inquest case files into my data collection tool, my own research process began to mirror the reductive, dehumanising tendencies of the justice process. In spite of the tragic stories therein, it is difficult to maintain focus and concentration on each docket when you have hundreds to read. I began to empathise with magistrates who had to sit with a stack of case files after a full day in court, and understand why one would simply want to complete the task as quickly as possible. I noticed that I was chasing the satisfaction of completing the form, closing the docket, and moving to the next. I had begun to gravitate towards closure at all costs; the urge to tick a box, finalise a case, draw a line under a matter, no matter how unsatisfactory it may be.
Inadvertently, through including an excessive number of case files in my study, I shared in the quotidian experience of justice decision-makers, ‘drowning in dockets.’ Přibáň argues that Socio-Legal Studies promote the quest for interdisciplinarity through boundary crossing and an ‘emancipation’ from the confines of cognitive closure (Campbell & Olaya, 2022). However, faced with an overwhelming docket load, I struggled to break free from cognitive closure. Undoubtedly, our value as Socio-Legal scholars stems from our curiosity and refusal to be limited to the frame of legal norms when seeking to understand behaviour. Yet, sharing the human fallibility of the drive for closure with justice decision-makers was itself a revealing moment, which allowed me a profound glimpse into their world.