Just Mercy

I don’t remember when I first heard about modern executions, but at some point as a kid, probably around ten years old, I remember a prisoner on death row in Utah being executed.  It was all over the news because, as I recall, there were protests against the death penalty.  I remember seeing crowds lined up around the fence of the prison with signs and everything.  The death penalty has been around since the beginning of time, so I have always been interested in the arguments some people make against it.  Easily the most compelling is that of wrongful conviction.  Widely accepted studies claim that between 1 and 5% of all trials result in wrongful conviction, which seems unfair, especially if one of those wrongful convictions leads to the death penalty.

Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption by Bryan Stevenson (ISBN: 978-0-8129-8496-5) tells the story of the author’s lifelong crusade to provide justice for people whom he believes were treated unfairly by the courts in America.  The reader gets a brief history of Stevenson’s life before founding his non-profit law project, the Equal Justice Initiative (EJI), and then a detailed look at the case of Walter McMillian, a man who was wrongfully accused (let along wrongfully convicted).  Along the way, Stevenson provides a few details of other cases he and his project was working on.  Like the McMillian case, most of the cases involve people who were possibly wrongfully accused or convicted, those who were mentally disabled, and those whose defense had been ineffective (for various reasons, but usually, per Stevenson, because the defendant did not have enough money to pay for effective counsel).  He also spends a solid chapter discussing his efforts to prevent juveniles from being sentenced to life in prison (“death in prison” as he calls it) and from being dealt with by the adult criminal justice system.  The McMillian case also had a racial element to it, which is likely unsurprising since it happened in Alabama in the early 1980s.  After a girl was murdered and the local police couldn’t identify a culprit, they found a convenient suspect in McMillian, a black man who was known in some circles to have had an affair with a white woman.  For most whites in the South in the early 1980s, that was still culturally unacceptable.  Eventually, McMillian was convicted on very shaky testimony and put on death row.  When Stevenson got around to working his case (“got around” since Stevenson took it upon himself to look into just about every death row case), he found many legal holes and worked tirelessly to overturn the conviction.  It took years, but he eventually succeeded, overcoming general police incompetence, racist feelings, and legal precedent, something that is always hard to deal with in the American justice system.  Stevenson notes, in his conclusion to the book, that as he’s worked these cases, he’s learned about justice and mercy.  It’s not just the people in prisons (there rightfully or wrongfully) that are, in some way, “broken,” but that we all are, and that when we recognize that, we are more prepared to show mercy to the broken around us.

The book is informative and really makes the reader think (two important qualities in books).  Crime and the criminal justice system are an interesting topic to learn about, even if one has never really been involved (the closest I’ve ever been is explaining to a judge that the 90 m.p.h. I was accused of driving was patently false, although I would freely admit to driving 75 m.p.h. in a 65-m.p.h. zone; he believed me, thankfully, and the fine I had to pay was quartered).  McMillian’s story is quite gripping, and the book is well worth a read.  Some of the other stories Stevenson brings up are also interesting, but given the lack of detail and attention paid to them, they waver between being a decent supporting cast and being a distraction.  The points made in the supporting stories about the struggles those with mental incapacities have in getting a fair trial are well worth exploring, but need a more extensive treatment.  Arguably the largest point made by the book is that poor people are often hung out to dry when it comes to adequate representation in court.  Stevenson’s book does not make public defenders look good at all.  They are repeatedly shown to be petty and lazy.  My guess is that is an unfair characterization of all of them, although there is no reason to doubt his description in the specific cases he mentions.  Another subject brought up is rehabilitation for those who get out of prison, which seems like a pretty universal thing people should be able to rally around.  In discussing legal questions, it’s always worth hearing the other side, and this book doesn’t do that.  There is no discussion of how, in cases with mentally competent adults, by simply not committing crimes (or, in cases where things aren’t legal crimes, but are against God’s commandments), the majority of these situations could be avoided.  I also found it somewhat disingenuous to have a lawyer talking about applying the law fairly since it is unscrupulous lawyers (Stevenson seems to be an honest one) who use legal tricks and loopholes to keep those who are actually guilty out of prison or free from other consequences.  The justice system, like anything done by the government, is a one-size-fits-all thing, so when too many people are seen getting off the hook, the pendulum swings the other way with minimal sentencing requirements and other harsh penalties.  Finally, racism is also brought up a couple times in the book, and in a few cases mentioned, it seems to have played a negative role, and there is no reason to not believe Stevenson’s account.  I am old enough to remember some people saying interracial relationships were to be avoided (by the time I was a teenager, this sentiment had either died out or was not something people chose to talk about, but in circles I ran in, I believe it to be the former and, certainly, those of my generation did not hold those views), so the McMillian story has a very real air about it.  At the very end of the book, Stevenson strayed into the world of social justice, but it seemed to be a small part of the message, and one I hope stays in the background because it pales in comparison to the message Stevenson, maybe unwittingly, presents, which is that individuals who are free to make their own decisions and who are willing to love their neighbor and sacrifice their time and efforts provide the greatest good.  There was a powerful story in the book where Stevenson helped a black guy who had a troubled childhood and then committed a violent crime.  During prison visits, Stevenson met a prison officer who was quite antagonistic toward Stevenson and, based on some of his tattoos and bumper stickers, harbored at least some racist beliefs.  Stevenson didn’t openly confront this man, and once the warden had to escort the prisoner to trial and heard about his troubled childhood in the foster care system, mellowed greatly, even getting the prisoner a favorite treat, likely against prison rules because the guard found something in common with the prisoner: a troubled childhood in dysfunctional foster homes (dysfunctional homes are a constant in the book, but not an issue that gets discussed).  I thought the story fit Stevenson’s message about all of us being broken in one way or another and our cognizance of that opening us to being more merciful toward others as powerful as anything in the book.  

   

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