The horror of the murder of small children is terrible to contemplate. Still more abhorrent is murder by a parent.
In the early hours of a brand new year, two small boys had their lives extinguished by a purportedly depressed father. In their confused desire to not stigmatise mental illness, commentators have sought to describe a man who killed his children in a calculated, premeditated act, as a 'good man'.
I tend to sympathise more with anti domestic violence campaigner Phil Cleary, who desribed it as 'a horrendous, appalling, brutal violent act'.
For me this event brought to mind two cases from a past life, when I was the manager of Melbourne Lifeline. One was a woman who disclosed that she had killed her two small children more than a decade earlier. She had survived her attempted suicide and served a prison term.
It was one of the most ghastly revelations I had heard in my counselling career. I recall my feelings of despair when I was shown the photo of two golden haired children. This woman was living a life of endless psychological and moral torture.
In a second case, I intervened in a possible murder suicide plan. A belligerent suicidal man was referred to me by an employer who was concerned about his odd behaviour and remarks. In the course of the conversation I became alarmed at his rage towards his former partner, who was about to remarry.
He revealed his intent to 'make her suffer' for what she had done to him. He was due to have access to the children that weekend. I asked pertinent questions. Would he harm his children? 'Yes.'
I froze. I consulted a colleague, and we set about having this man admitted for psychiatric assessment. We also alerted his former partner to the danger, and advised her not to allow him to have the children.
These were gut-wrenching incidents. But my horror at the Damien Little murder-suicide is more than visceral. It comes from an awareness of the impact on our community of how we choose to view and depict acts of violence in the media. It can make the community safer, or plant seeds for copycat acts.
Research-based guidelines for media reporting on suicide state that it should avoid sensationalising, excessive dramatic coverage, admiration of the person who has suicided, details of the method, oversimplification of motives, insensitive early interviews with the bereaved, and attributing noble intent to the act. At the same time it should emphasise the importance of getting help, and provide information on how to recognise signs of suicidal distress, and how to access help for the bereaved.
For murder/suicide acts, similar cautions apply: avoid sensationalising, glamorising, or imputing heroism, tragedy, or courage regarding the act; avoid giving a sense of power and notoriety to these acts; avoid focus on the perpetrator, and instead focus on support to the victims and the bereaved.
Those who feel powerless and enraged may view dramatically portrayed acts of violence as a pathway to revenge and power. This can be a strong motive, even though the perpetrator may not be around to see reactions: the impact can be fantasised, and has already been observed in the results of the reported, sensationalised violence. The person may identify with, and aspire to, the violent act.
We should be alert to those who express admiration and envy of the perpetrator. Men who feel powerless following the breakdown of a relationship may seek to punish the mother of their children, who they blame for these feelings of powerlessness. They take from them what is most precious.
The act of filicide rightly provokes feelings of disbelief and revulsion. The deaths of two boys aged four and almost-one are a tragedy. Their murder is a crime. The community must unequivocally denounce this as a monstrous act. We must support and comfort the bewildered family, whose own anger may be denied amid protestations that Little was a 'good bloke', 'loving father and friend' and 'great footballer'.
We can feel compassion and horror at the same time as we face the reality of this heinous act. It was not merely misguided. It was an irreparable criminal waste. We must focus on prevention.
It is not 'weak' to seek help. And violence is not strength.
Lyn Bender is a Melbourne psychologist. Follow her on Twitter @Lynestel