Some impure thoughts on death

How did Governor Tim Pawlenty get to be so much smarter than me? Not that I even thought myself equal to such lofty eminence, but, really, the guy has distanced himself impressively. I am left in the dust.

Tortured, full of doubt, confused and uncertain, I’ve stumbled about for three quarters of a century searching for answers. The Guv’s approach is smooth to the edge of slick and untroubled. I envy the guy. I have always been an advocate of capital punishment and remain so.

The ultimate penalty rids humanity of permanently and chronically dangerous foes that exact fearful tribute—even while caged. Practically, everybody in prison gets out, and often, the sick terror resumes. And executions do deter, otherwise we can hold that consequence has no influence on behavior.

In any given 100 murders (and the death penalty should only be reserved for those who kill), most are committed by schmucks—familiars, often in drunken rages or maniacal lapses—and could not be prevented. Indeed, few such homicides result in executions anyway. A small fraction—serial killers; killers for hire or professional criminals plying their trade; grisly killings of children by pedophiles and other calculated aberrant acts—are sure to be influenced by the cost-benefit analysis of the potential perp. Since these are undertaken in cold-blooded evaluation, the weighing in with the perp’s possible death on the scale is sure to stay some murderous hands. How else to explain the dearth of kidnappings in America? Success in pursuing these criminals has had a deterrent effect. Criminals, like everyone else, prefer the safest, most lucrative enterprises.

So, we can see the fallacy of matching homicide rates between jurisdictions (a favorite ploy of abolitionists), some without capital punishment. The comparisons pair gross figures that are not likely to be impacted by the presence or absence of the death penalty. A more refined examination of the figures representing murders that are preceded by calculation would reveal the true value of executions as deterrents to others. Unfortunately, such subtleties have lain beyond the ken of criminal justice savants to date.

Why did we all grow up with such staples of the culture as “You’ll get the chair for this!” if this outcome were to be meaningless? We can sense, intuitively, that it is a powerful deterrent.

And how would we coerce a serial killer (as has happened repeatedly in American history) to reveal the location of the victim’s remains and other crucial indices without the threat of execution? A recent case in Minnesota—involving the disappearance of a young woman and the arrest of her putative slayer is a good example of the genre and the probable inspiration for the Governor’s call for the reinstitution of the death penalty. The investigators would be strongly aided by the use of the threat of death to obtain a confession and to locate the body, assuming it was a homicide.

Arguments, sure, but the only statistical analysis that no one can refute is that no executed criminal ever recidivated. All else, including this, must be placed in the realm of speculation—hopefully of the informed variety.

I have now lived in Minneapolis for almost a quarter century. For all that time, and for more that a half century before that, the state has lived without imposing death, and, with rare exceptions has been free of any real clamor for its return. The state recoiled in horror from a mass lynching at the century’s turn. I wouldn’t tamper with such a sensible example of Minnesota Nice.

Ironically, a rather feckless conservative Republican—and supporter of capital punishment—George Ryan of Illinois (currently under indictment for corruption), was shocked to discover errors swelling like cancerous pizza over the landscape that resulted in the executions of innocents. Innocents!

Dismayed by a torrent of disclosures reflecting egregious abuses, mendacities, carelessness, stupidity, indifference and malice, he ultimately commuted the sentences of all on Death Row and was supported by the court reviewing the matter, following an appeal by law and order types.

What an unlikely outcome from an even unlikelier source. Democracy’s miracles often sprout from the heroism of downright peculiar champions.

Governor Ryan’s dramatic actions set me to dwell on Minnesota’s experience. We’d made no such mistakes and executed no innocents. No one trumpeted such victories. No Minnesota governor experienced the agony visited upon Illinois—and a lot of other states which haven’t bothered to flip over this rock.

Other states have killed children, the retarded, blacks and, invariably, the poor. I sometimes complained that we needed to execute a few fat, white bankers to lend legitimacy to the process. Through it all I unblinkingly—if a teensy, weensy bit torturedly—accepted the need to safeguard society by ridding it of these dangers. But the innocent? That was a real shocker. That unnerved me. I envy Governor Pawlenty’s equanimity in the face of Illinois’ disclosures.

The process is flawed. Justice Blackmun was right. And, while flaws may be tolerable (or at least more so) in prison time, execution entails a thunderous and irreversible finality. We content ourselves with proving guilt beyond a reasonable doubt—a reasonable proposition—but is this enough to justify a killing?

Shouldn’t we seek a tighter process?

Why not separate the events, requiring a separate hearing, in capital cases, calling for the establishment of guilt beyond the shadow of a doubt? What about forbidding the execution of anyone under 18? Why not study the disproportionalities that execute far more blacks than whites? It has been shown that a black slaying a white has a far better chance of being executed than if he (and it almost always is a he, white or black) had murdered a fellow black. Clearly we’ve concluded that white lives count for more than black ones. Which doesn’t even get to the awful disparities wealth introduces into this, and every other, process. And the killing of the retarded is nothing less than a scandal. Surprise! Surprise!

So, it was after this tortured examination that I concluded that a moratorium is needed, followed by a discussion and reflection on the mistakes and tragedies uncovered by that tainted saint George Ryan.

For Minnesota to now plunge—blindly, from all I’ve read—into the adoption of the death penalty would be worse than a tragedy (to paraphrase Antoine de la Meurthe)—it would be a mistake.

So, while I admire, and even envy, our good governor’s blithe acceptance of death as a way of solving our problems, I cannot escape the pain uncovered in Illinois and, as yet, uninterred, elsewhere.

We strain at fleas and swallow elephants. Capital punishment is one elephant that won’t go down smoothly.