Bernard Zalig Yavitch
The Minds of Billy MilliganBernard Zalig Yavitch is a prosecutor in the Milligan case whose background on both sides of criminal defense shapes his role in the story. He begins from confidence in the prosecution’s evidence and skepticism about the multiple-personality diagnosis; after witnessing an examination, he concedes that Billy Milligan does not seem to be faking, even though he cannot explain what he has seen.
Identity and Professional Background
At thirty-five, Yavitch was a member of the prosecutor’s criminal-trial staff. He had been two years ahead of Judy Stevenson and Gary Schweickart in law school, knew them well, and had previously employed Gary as his law clerk. Before joining the prosecutor’s office, Yavitch spent four years practicing as a public defender. His professional history therefore connected him personally to the defense lawyers even as he worked against them in the Milligan prosecution.
The case was assigned outside the prosecutor’s office’s usual procedure. Rather than relying on a senior prosecutor selected at random a few weeks in advance, County Prosecutor George Smith called in two senior prosecutors because public outrage over the Campus Rapist case had become intense. Yavitch was one of them. He agreed with his colleague Terry Sherman that the prosecution had an unusually strong case, a judgment that put him on the same side of the case as Sherman despite his longstanding familiarity with the defense team.
The Jail Examination
On March 12, Yavitch went to the Franklin County Jail for a psychiatric examination of Milligan. It was the first time in his prosecutorial career that he had attended an examination of a defendant by psychiatrists. He had repeatedly reviewed the Southwest report and the police reports, but still felt uncertain about what to expect.
Yavitch did not initially take the multiple-personality diagnosis seriously. He regarded Dr. Cornelia Wilbur’s belief in the condition as no surprise, since she already accepted it. The psychiatrist whose judgment mattered most to him was Dr. George Harding Jr., whom he considered exceptionally respected in Ohio and unlikely to be deceived. That distinction reveals the terms of his skepticism: he was not persuaded by the diagnosis alone, but he was prepared to watch a trusted professional assess what happened.
The examination unsettled that confidence without resolving his doubts. After Yavitch and Gary were allowed back into the room, Tommy was introduced, questioned, and returned to his cell. Yavitch had missed the initial change in identity, but heard what had occurred and responded that he did not understand its meaning, while judging that Milligan did not seem to be pretending. His response was neither a full clinical conclusion nor a dismissal. It marked a cautious shift from disbelief toward recognition that the behavior he had been told about might be genuine.
Confidentiality and the Public Case
Before the diagnosis became public, it was known only to Milligan’s treatment team, the prosecutors, and the judge. The public defenders wanted it kept secret: widespread publicity, they believed, would make it harder both to treat Milligan and to bring his case to trial. Yavitch agreed that withholding the diagnosis was ethically appropriate while it had not been presented in court.
That position placed him in a distinctive role. He was prosecuting a case under intense public scrutiny, yet accepted that information about the defendant’s mental condition should not be disclosed merely because the case attracted attention. The diagnosis was not kept private indefinitely: the Columbus Citizen-Journal broke the story on September 27. The account does not describe Yavitch’s response to that disclosure, so his documented position remains the earlier one—that secrecy was proper before the diagnosis entered courtroom testimony.
Role in the Narrative
Yavitch’s arc is measured rather than dramatic. He arrives at the jail examination as a prosecutor who doubts the diagnosis, but whose respect for Dr. George Harding Jr. keeps him attentive to evidence. Seeing the aftermath of Tommy’s appearance does not make him claim to understand Milligan; it leads him only to say that the behavior does not seem feigned. That restraint distinguishes his reaction from both unquestioning acceptance and categorical denial.
His former public-defender experience also gives his place in the case an unusual professional texture. The defense lawyers are not strangers: one had been his law-school peer and former clerk. Yet Yavitch supports the prosecution’s view that the case is strong and remains part of the prosecutorial team. The tension between that adversarial role and his willingness to respect the psychiatric evidence makes him a point of contact between legal certainty and clinical uncertainty.

