If a system has flaws, shouldn't we fix it?
I'm happy several of our community leaders - a varied
group, when you look at the names - have put together an opportunity to
discuss a hot topic in Raleigh, a moratorium on the death penalty. I hope
to make Monday night's public forum, but just in case, I wanted to throw
my two cents into the pot.
When I mention I'm against the death penalty, it's inevitable I'll be asked, "What if one of your loved ones was killed?"
First, I would hope I'd have enough conviction to stick with my beliefs, one of which is life in prison is more punishing; the death penalty is the easy way out.
Imagine beginning every day - for 10, 20, 60 years, whatever a given prisoner's mortal eternity behind bars - opening your eyes, seeing a jail cell and being reminded of the crime that landed you there. Every day. If a person lives 50 years in prison, that's more than 18,250 times. That, my friends, is hell.
Of course, I would not be completely without vengeful thoughts. But instead of supporting government-sanctioned murder, I might opt to mail occasional anonymous pictorial reminders to the killer of the life he's missing.
But, more pertinent to this discussion, I'd turn the "what if...?" argument on its head: What if one of your loved ones was put to death by the government and it was later discovered he was innocent? That your loved one was put to death because of poor representation from an overworked public defender? Or because of evidence hidden by a well-meaning prosecutor wanting a criminal off the street? Or a bad decision by a jury on a case based solely on circumstantial evidence? Or because your loved one was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time?
There are problems facing our current system, and a moratorium would give us a chance to fix them. If we're going to use the death penalty, we should make sure the system works. I would hope those who favor the death penalty would agree. After all, do you start using a computer system at work before all the bugs are worked out? Why, then, should our approach to something imminently more important - taking a person's life -be taken less seriously?
Yes, we have the greatest justice system in modern civilization, but it is not without flaws. In regards to death row cases, we could only guess that before. But now we know for sure.
Since 1973, 113 people have been released from death row with evidence of their innocence. That pace has picked up considerably with advances in DNA technology; eight were freed in 2000, nine more from 2001-02 and 10 more in 2003.
Simply put, after-the-conviction evidence has spared 113 people from injustices in our justice system. Logic would dictate that untold hundreds of others have been put to death for crimes they did not commit. Even since 1973 we have to wonder if those 113 are the only ones who were innocent. If we answer, "No, probably not," we're admitting our system has flaws.
Had I the space, I could list the times I'm left shaking my head at what's getting people sent to death row just in our area. In this case, there's no murder weapon or even a motive. In that case, the only witness is shown to be anything but trustworthy. In many cases, there is no premeditation, but because a defendant stole a wallet or took the victim's car after the fact, a federal law forces the act to be treated the same as that of a serial killer when no one would put the level of crime on the same plane.
A moratorium on the death penalty in this state until its application process can be deemed fair and equitable doesn't put anyone at risk. Indeed, the only ones at risk now are any innocents who may be on death row.
Is the price of a few innocent deaths really worth the privilege of having a death penalty?
We can do better.
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Ray Criscoe is the editor of The Courier-Tribune. His column appears on Sundays. Email comments to <rcriscoe@courier-tribune.com>.