Something that may be worse than death

Something that may be worse than death

On March 18, Gov. Bill Richardson formally ended New Mexico’s death penalty, ratifying votes for abolition by the State Senate and House. Richardson festooned the signing with language about this being the “most difficult decision” of his political life, arrived at only after he had toured the maximumsecurity unit where offenders sentenced to life without parole would be held. “My conclusion was those cells are something that may be worse than death,” he said. “I believe this is a just punishment.” For Richardson the flaw with the death penalty lies in its imperfection. “Faced with the reality that our system for imposing the death penalty can never be perfect, my conscience compels me to replace the death penalty with a solution that keeps society safe.” Embalmed in this self-serving verbiage are many pointers to how seriously the whole abolitionist cause has gone off the rails, fleeing the arduous moral battleground of Redemption and Revenge for the tempting pastures of Efficiency. With the death penalty, irreversible mistakes bring the whole justice system into well-deserved disrepute. But the state has a ready answer, one conveniently cued for them by the abolitionists who set the stage for the state to offer its substitute: life without the possibility of parole (LWOP) — living death, or in Richardson’s creepy phrase, something “worse than death.” Also recruited into the abolitionists’ arguments for efficiency have been pragmatic calculations that the death penalty is simply too expensive. It costs a ton of money, particularly in a state like California, to fight a death penalty case through the courts and the appeals process, pay for prosecutors and defenders to amass the data and the witnesses for the post-verdict penalty phases of the trial, get someone onto death row in San Quentin and then fight further endless battles over habeas corpus writs, stays of execution and so forth. Bill Clinton did his best to speed up the conveyor belt by signing the Antiterrorism and Effective Death Penalty Act of 1996. But it’s still a hugely expensive hassle to line things up so lethal injection can proceed. Against all this, what’s brisker than the offer of

LWOP as part of a plea bargain? Sign on the dotted line. Pack the prisoner off to a concrete box and throw away the key. As the Dallas Morning News editorialized in support of LWOP for Texas: “It’s harsh. It’s just. And it’s final without being irreversible. Call it a living death.” Nothing much is going to change in New Mexico, except for the worse. The state has only formally executed one man since 1960: Terry Clark, a child-killer, had his appointment with the lethal needle in 2001. This number may soon swell to three because the two men on death row face execution because they were condemned to die before abolition comes into legal force on July 1. Presumably their chances of commutation have diminished, since no one wants to be accused of giving killers anything resembling a lucky break. Meanwhile, the number of convicted people drawing the “living death” card will go up, as juries will likely find it easier to sentence defendants to living death — LWOP — with less worry about the irreversibility of a mistaken death sentence. When I drive south to the Bay Area, I pass San Quentin, where

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