Narcissistic Personality Disorder

Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) is one of the two disorders that Dr. Elizabeth Vogel says Jacob Barber exhibits clearly during her defense evaluation. Her account describes a restrained sense of exceptionalism and a striking difficulty recognizing other people’s feelings; it also distinguishes clinical interpretation from a conclusion about guilt. That distinction matters in a case where public labels, courtroom evidence, and uncertainty about Jacob repeatedly blur together.

Diagnosis in the defense evaluation

Dr. Elizabeth Vogel presents her conclusions to Andrew Barber and Laurie without Jacob in the room. She explains that she has provided Jonathan Klein with an opinion letter summarizing what she might say if called to testify, and that her immediate role is to assist the defense rather than begin treatment. She identifies NPD and reactive attachment disorder as diagnoses Jacob exhibits clearly. She also notes some suggestion of antisocial personality disorder but leaves it out of her report because she is less certain.

Vogel cautions Andrew and Laurie against hearing the diagnoses as a condemnation. Some of the behaviors under discussion, she says, are not necessarily pathological, even in combination: adolescence itself involves self-focus and questions of attachment, and the distinction is one of degree. Her framing is that Jacob is an ordinary adolescent with these traits to an unusual extent, not a monster. The parents agree, though the narration makes clear that their agreement is obedient rather than candid.

Grandiosity and empathy

Vogel describes Jacob’s grandiosity as quiet rather than theatrical. It does not chiefly appear as boasting or overt arrogance; instead, it takes the form of an inflated sense of importance and a conviction that he is exceptional. Jacob believes that rules applying to others do not necessarily apply to him. He also feels misunderstood by his peers, with a few exceptions he regards as special like himself, often because he considers them intelligent.

The other central feature Vogel emphasizes is lack of empathy, particularly relevant in a criminal case. She finds Jacob unusually cold toward other people, including Ben Rifkin and Ben’s family. When asked about Ben’s death, Jacob reportedly compares one murder with deaths by the millions, car crashes, and soldiers’ killings, questioning why the death of one boy should matter. Vogel says that even when she directs him back to the Rifkins and encourages him to express some feeling for them or for Ben, he cannot or will not do so.

She connects this response to incidents Andrew and Laurie have described from Jacob’s childhood, in which other children were injured around him, including falls from playground equipment and bicycle accidents. In Vogel’s interpretation, the pattern is not merely that Jacob considers other people less important than himself: he seems unable to imagine their pain, sadness, or loneliness as feelings comparable to his own. She identifies the forensic significance of that difficulty as its potential to make morality seem subjective and flexible. The evaluation, however, describes a psychological concern; it does not establish that Jacob committed the murder.

A distinction between disorder and destiny

Vogel specifically says that NPD is neither a chemical imbalance nor genetic. She characterizes it as a complex of behaviors, a deeply ingrained habit that can, over time, be unlearned. This claim separates the diagnosis from the case’s broader anxieties about inherited violence: in Vogel’s account, NPD is not a biological fate, even if changing the behavior would be difficult and gradual.

That distinction also qualifies the parents’ role in receiving the assessment. Vogel wants them to use the diagnosis as vocabulary and as a set of tools for understanding and helping Jacob, not to be overwhelmed by it. She says that after the case, depending on its outcome, there may be a fuller clinical conversation. For the present, however, the report is being used for the defense and the trial, and Jacob has not been told Vogel’s conclusions.

From clinical language to courtroom evidence

At trial, a witness reads from the evaluation, including its references to reactive attachment disorder and NPD. The document also contains a separate, sharply worded comparison of Jacob with the Grinch, invoking the phrase “His heart is two sizes too small.” That line turns clinical observations about empathy and impulse control into a memorable image that can carry a life of its own in court. It should not be confused with Vogel’s more qualified explanation of NPD: the report contains multiple formulations, and the courtroom’s quoted language is not by itself a finding of guilt.

Outside the courtroom, Jacob’s public image has already been shaped by similarly blunt labels. The Herald pairs his photograph with the word “MONSTER,” while its coverage presents the case as a murder accusation against a prosecutor’s teenage son. Such coverage does not diagnose Jacob, but it echoes the evaluative language surrounding his behavior and makes the distinction between a clinical description and a public verdict increasingly difficult to preserve.

Social consequences and limits

After the case ends, the neighbors’ view of Jacob remains unsettled. Many consider him not guilty but not innocent in a broader social sense, citing his knife, violent fantasies, and family background; some also find the abrupt end of the trial suspicious. Even people who may believe he was not the killer do not necessarily want him among their children. The result is social exclusion without a formal finding that he committed the crime.

Jacob is not sent back to school in Newton. His parents continue the homeschooling arrangement, with Mrs. McGowan returning each morning to work with him and Laurie taking an active role in his lessons. Jacob says he does not miss school or his friends and appears content with a solitary routine focused on lessons rather than the complications of other students. Andrew describes him as composed throughout the ordeal: sometimes angry, withdrawn, or self-pitying, but never breaking down. That equanimity can be read as consistent with the parents’ and evaluator’s concern about his emotional responses, but the account does not make it proof of a diagnosis or of guilt. NPD therefore remains consequential as a clinical framework, a contested piece of trial language, and one element in the stigma that survives the case’s legal conclusion.