This morning I’m scheduled to testify before the Senate Public Safety Committee in support of AB 1210 (Ting). The proposition is to diversify the parole board by including commissioners with a variety of professional backgrounds, including therapeutic backgrounds.
Those of you who read Yesterday’s Monsters may recall that, while the Board is diverse in terms of race and gender, it is not diverse in terms of professional background. The vast majority of commissioners come from law enforcement backgrounds: former sheriffs, police chiefs, and correctional officers. This has far-reaching implications as to the nature and result of the hearings.
The current composition of the board dates back to several transformations in California punishment that happened throughout the late 1970s and 1980s. Over the years, the time before the initial hearing and between hearings increased; actuarial risk assessment replaced correctional counselors and psychologists; the role of prosecutors and victim supporters vastly increased; and voters approved a gubernatorial veto on parole board decisions to release. Despite repeated instruction from the California Supreme Court to focus on future prospects and risks, the Board acts defensively, finding ways to bypass this requirement and deny parole on the basis of crimes that happened decades ago—even to people who, according to vast criminological research, have long ago aged out of crime. As a consequence, recommendations for release are rare, accounting for only 16-17% of all hearings.
It is unsurprising that a group comprised almost exclusively of law enforcement officers is professionally and culturally predisposed to accept court records and disciplinary write-ups as incontrovertible truth, makes biased assumptions about people from their demeanor and body language, and tends to accept simplistic narratives at the expense of more complicated stories involving people’s environment and circumstances. The commissioners also exhibit complacency regarding the woeful inadequacies of our prison programming system, laying the blame for inaccessible or nonexisting rehabilitation programs on the parole applicants themselves. Despite some continuing education workshops, the commissioners as a group do not possess deep professional knowledge on issues such as substance abuse and mental health.
The commissioners regularly pride themselves for being able to detect false remorse or lack of insight. Unfortunately, this self-assessment claim is contradicted by robust empirical research. In experiments, law enforcement officers regularly express significantly more certainty about their ability to detect lies–and regularly do significantly WORSE than general population in telling truth and lies apart.
We are at a unique moment in history, in which we acknowledge that multiple forms of wisdom and expertise—not only the expertise of law enforcement officers—are essential to solve social problems and offer hope to families and communities. Tune in to the hearing today and make your voice heard in support of this important change.
On Friday afternoon, CDCR announced an amendment to its regulations regarding the earning of good time credits. It’s always important to pay attention to such regulations, because as Kevin Reitz, Ed Rhine, and their colleagues at the Robina Institute remind us, whether a sentence is determinate or indeterminate is a question with many moving parts and many institutional actors, including prison administrators.
The new regulations are good news, albeit modestly so. For people doing time for nonviolent felonies, the good time credits will increase from 33% to 50% credit earned. For people doing time for violent felonies, the increase will be from 20% to 33.33%. In addition, the new regulations establish a new credit, called “minimum camp credit”: those who make it to conservation camps, earn a day for each day at the camp.
Reading these plain facts doesn’t suggest much cause for alarm, does it? But someone at the Associated Press decided that injecting some inflammatory, dehumanizing language was de rigueur, so they published this article, which was originally titled “76k California violent, career felons get earlier releases.”
The article is not only inflammatory, but deeply misleading. The number of people eligible for credits is far fewer than 76,000. First, the people presumably doing time for the most serious offenses–lifers without parole and people on death row–are ineligible for the credits. Second, for all those serving life sentences with the possibility of parole, release is not automatic, but rather conditioned upon success before the parole board which, if you’ve read Yesterday’s Monsters, you know is exceedingly rare (less than 20% of applicants receive parole.) Third, anyone who is already in the parole pipeline–including people with youth offender parole dates (who have aged out of crime) and people with elderly parole dates (who have also aged out of crime)–is not eligible. Fourth, the credits will be fairly modest because the regulations are not retroactive: the new percentage will only apply to the remaining portion of the person’s sentence, effective May 1, 2021. And finally, the choice of headline highlighting “violent, career felons” produced (as far as I could see) the predictable fatuous shrieks on Twitter, I’m sure will play a role in the similarly fatuous recall campaign, and is not the sort of thing that is conducive to reasonable conversations about criminal justice reform.
The regulations are a small step in the right direction. In the last few weeks, Chad and I are noticing increases of approximately 150-200 people at CDCR, presumably intake from jails. To curb new outbreaks and prevent the next pandemic, we must keep prison population lower to offset these transfers.
Here’s the letter I submitted in support of AB 1210 and AB 960 today. To do the same, click here!
Dear Committee Members,
Letter of Support: AB 1210 and AB 960
My name is Hadar Aviram. I am a UC Hastings law professor specializing in corrections and the author of a recent book about parole in California, Yesterday’s Monsters: The Manson Family Cases and the Illusion of Parole (UC Press, 2020.) I write to offer my strong support for two measures discussed at today’s hearing: AB 1210 and AB 960.
AB 1210 is an essential step for reforming parole. While the BPH is diverse in terms of gender and race, it is not at all diverse in terms of professional background. My research revealed that, almost invariably, gubernatorial appointees to the BPH are former law enforcement officers from the police and correctional fields. This means that, continuing education notwithstanding, the board is truly impoverished in terms of several topics that are incredibly germane to the commissioners’ deliberation: substance abuse, mental health, and the like, which are part and parcel of the skillset of people from the helping professions. In addition, my research reveals that the commissioners are overconfident about their ability to discern remorse or insight from nonverbal clues such as the parole applicant’s demeanor. This confidence is unfounded: robust social science research shows that law enforcement officers, who believe they are better than the general population at detecting sincerity or release, are actually worse at it in controlled experiments. This is another reason to diversify the board.
I also offer my strong support for AB 960. I am currently working on a book about the COVID-19 crisis in California prisons (under contract, UC Press) and have several publications out on the topic. Among the things I have found is that the Governor’s release policy was flawed not only in its modest numbers, but also in terms of determining *who* was to be released. I suspect that the tendency to release people with short sentences toward the end of their sentence was largely political, to avoid backlash; in fact, the people who are older and serve longer sentences (now about a third of the CA prison population) are the ones who pose the least risk to the outside and who need the most help because they, themselves, are at medical risk. It is essential not to pollute public health considerations with a flawed discourse of deservedness. We must expand medical parole, not only for the sake of abating this pandemic, but also for the sake of preventing the next.
Many thanks for adding my research into your considerations. I am happy to provide any further information you need.
The Marshall Project has published the results of a political survey of incarcerated people, and they are extremely interesting. In a previous installment, they refuted the widely-held belief in broad support for Democrats behind bars; the majority of white prisoners would vote for Trump if they could. The current installment, in which the respondents were invited to opine on criminal justice policy, is just as interesting. Among other findings, even though there was a marked racial divide on questions about police violence and support for Black Lives Matter, 64% of incarcerated Republicans supported transferring funds from policing to social programs, by contrast to only 5% of incarcerate Republicans.
I highly recommend reading the whole thing, and have just one comment to make. In the survey, respondents were invited to comment on the kinds of interventions that would have kept them from prison, and they did list some of the “usual suspects”:
But the article then comments that many respondents ascribed the responsibility for their incarceration solely to their own behavior.
This is worth commenting on, because it dovetails with one of my findings fromYesterday’s Monsters, namely, the insidiousness and proliferation of “programspeak.” Programspeak is more than a jargon–it’s a worldview that is propagated in prison rehabilitative programming, all of which is geared toward telling the parole board a story of personal responsibility. At parole hearings, where the concept of “insight” is kind, there is a constant pressure on people to attribute their incarceration only to their own failings, without any allowance for environmental factors.
Now, there is nothing wrong with encouraging people to be accountable, and I think Marxist theories of crime take things too far when they divorce criminality from anything involving personal autonomy; even when choices are very constrained, we see evidence of agency (and to say otherwise is incredibly insulting to the large majority of people from disadvantaged backgrounds who don’t commit crime.) But adults with complex worldviews should be able to account for criminality in a way that does not discount the robust evidence of environmental factors, including poverty, difficult family lives, lead exposure, governmental neglect, lack of educational and vocational opportunities, and understandable, class- and race-based resentments. Unfortunately, this is not how it plays out on parole, where any effort to contextualize one’s personal history prior to the crime of commitment can be interpreted as “minimizing” or “lack of insight.”
This “programspeak” of personal accountability bleeds over to almost all other prison programming. I should know; I volunteered with, and visited, many of them. But it also bleeds out of the prison experience and accompanies people in their lives on the outside. In his ethnographic study of reentry, Alessandro de Giorgi found this self-attribution is so insidious that even after reentry, people blame themselves for not having a roof over their heads or basic groceries to feed their families.
Given the pervasiveness of programspeak, I’m not surprised to find that the folks surveyed by the Marshall Project emphasized their own responsibility. It’s being drilled into them throughout their incarceration. If anything, it’s a miracle that despite this aggressive, programmatic indoctrination, they articulate environmental factors as well. And to the extent that, after everything we know, people still subsribe to this heavyhanded partly-false consciousness, much of it is going to crumble because of the contrast between the consistent pressure on individuals to take responsibility for their actions and the equally consistent reluctance of prison systems to take even a shred of responsibility for what is being done to them, especially in the context of COVID-19.
Today’s Chronicle features a great article by Bob Egelko, which tries to parse out who is responsible for the San Quentin catastrophe. Getting into the chain of command that made the botched transfer decision might come in handy at a later date, I think, when the time comes to file the inevitable (and more than justified) lawsuit. But, as I said in the article, the time to squabble over who’s at fault has not come yet. Right now we must have all hands on deck, including Gov. Newsom, Mr. Kelso, and Mr. Diaz, making prison releases their absolute top priority.
By now, regular readers of my COVID-19 prison crisis posts know that Gov. Newsom’s plan to release a mere 8,000 people over the course of the summer will not suffice to curb infections, illnesses, and death in prison. You also know that, at least with regard to San Quentin–an antiquated facility that lacks proper ventilation–the physicians at AMEND recommended an immediate population reduction by 50%. But how is it to be done?
The #StopSanQuentinOutbreak coalition, and the Prison Advocacy Network (PAN) have useful, well-researched answers, which are encapsulated in the lovely infographic above. Here are the coalition’s demands, and here’s the PAN page offering legal resources and pathways to release. I want to spend this post getting into the particulars. Before doing so, though, I need to explain a few important things.The Prisoner Advocacy Network has a list of pathways to release.
A lot of the categories in Newsom’s current release plan make sense and show evidence of public health thinking. They are considering age, medical condition, and time left on people’s sentences. The problem with the categories is that they are unnecessarily restrictive, and I think the restrictions can be attributed to two hangups that many people, including well-meaning, educated folks, share about prison releases: the fear that releasing a lot of people is going to be hugely expensive and the hangup around the violent/nonviolent distinction. So let’s tackle these two first.
Get over the hangup of re-entry costs. You may have read that BSCC is considering offering $15 million to CDCR, and might wonder how we can possibly pay for housing, temporary or permanent, of tens of thousands of people. Of course this is going to cost money; the question is, compared to what. It may shock you to learn that, in the 2018/2019 fiscal year, the Legislative Analyst’s Office estimated that the average cost to incarcerate one person in California for a year was $81,502 – more than a $30k increase since our recession-era prison population reduction in 2010-2011. How much does it cost to help such a person for a year, when their healthcare is funded by Obamacare, rather than by CDCR? Here’s a PPIC report from 2015 detailing alternatives to incarceration. Specifically with regard to COVID-19-related reentries, here’s another great infographic detailing what the needs are going to be. The big one is housing, and there are organizations on the ground that are set up to help with that. Even with transitional housing costs, this does not add up to $80k per person per year.
Get over the hangup of making the violent/nonviolent distinction. I am still seeing lots of well-intentioned folks who read Michelle Alexander years ago tweeting about how ending the war on drugs (with or without the hashtag), or focusing on so-called “nonviolent inmates” is the key to fighting this outbreak. I can’t really fault them for this misapprehension–what I can do is repeatedly present you with facts to correct it.
Take a look at the graph below. It comes from CDCR’s population data points from 2018. You will note that the vast majority of people in California prisons are serving time for a violent offense. Drug convictions are the smallest contributors to our prison population (this is of course not true for jails or for federal prisons; I’m talking about the state prison system.) I know we all love to say “dismantle” these days, but dismantling the war on drugs will do very little to reduce state prison population.
Now, take a look at CDCR’s Spring 2020 population projection. What you see in the diagram below are the reductions in population since 2010, and some projections for the years to come. The two big reductions were in 2011, following the Realignment, and, to a smaller extent, in 2015, following Prop. 47. Both of those propositions diverted drug offenders to the community corrections systems–jails and probation. If you care about the injustices of the war on drugs, your heart is in the right place, but this is simply not the most dire problem we are facing in the context of prison population reduction.
It is easier to talk about drugs and nonviolent offenders, because these are typically categories of people that evoke more sympathy from the press. My colleague Susan Turner at UCI has shown that risk assessment tools, when used properly and carefully, yield dependable predictive results, and these are not correlated with the crime of commitment. Because we were so married to the idea that only nonviolent folks need help and public support, our three major population reduction efforts–Realignment, Prop 47, and Prop 57–missed the mark on getting more reductions for little to no “price” of increased criminal activity. Whenever you see a headline lambasting the Governor or the Board of Parole Hearings for releasing a “murderer,” immediately ask yourself the two relevant questions: (1) How old is this person now, and (2) how long ago did they commit the crime? The answers should lead you to the robust insights of life course criminology: People age out of violent crime by their mid- to late-twenties, and at 50 they pose a negligible risk to public safety. Moreover, what a person was convicted of doesn’t tell you a full story of what their undetected criminal activity was like before they were incarcerated. Take a look at the homicide solving rates in California, as reported by the Orange County Register in 2017–a bit over 50%–and ask yourself whether the crime of conviction is telling you a story with any statistical meaning.
In short, my friend, take a breath, let go of your attachment to the violent/nonviolent distinction, and let’s find some real solutions. The #StopSanQuentin coalition has a more in-depth breakdown to offer. Generally speaking, the legal mechanisms to achieve this reduction were identified by UnCommon Law in their letter to the Governor–primarily, early releases, commutations, and parole. Section 8 of Article V of the CA Constitution vests the power to grant a “reprieve, pardon, or commutation” in the Governor. The Penal Code elaborates and explains the process. Section 8658 of the California Government Code provides an emergency release valve: “In any case in which an emergency endangering the lives of inmates of a state, county, or city penal or correctional institution has occurred or is imminent, the person in charge of the institution may remove the inmates from the institution. He shall, if possible, remove them to a safe and convenient place and there confine them as long as may be necessary to avoid the danger, or, if that is not possible, may release them. the Governor has the authority to grant mass clemencies in an emergency.”
To begin, there are some bulk populations which, if targeted for release, can deliver the kind of numbers we need to stop the epidemic. These three populations largely overlap, which might make it easier to tailor the remedies to capture the right people. About half of the CDCR population are people designated “low risk” by CDCR’s own admission. CDCR uses risk classification primarily for housing purposes, and their methodology–as well as their practice of overriding their own classification–have been found by LAO to be in dire need of overhaul. LAO and other researchers believe that CDCR’s use of the “low risk” category is too restrictive, and their exceptions to their own classification come from hangups around issues of crime of commitment. This chart from the LAO report tells a useful story: Most of our prison population is doing time for violent crime, and a quarter of it is 50 and older; given the length of sentences for violent crimes, and the fact that a quarter of CA prisoners is serving decades on one of the “extreme punishment trifecta” of sentences (death, LWOP, or life with parole), it’s not difficult to figure out where the older, lower risk people fit in.
Between a quarter to a third of the prison population, depends on how you count: People who have already served a long sentence. This is the time to question the marginal utility of serving a few more years after being in prison for decades. According to the Public Policy Institute of California, About 33,000 inmates are “second strikers,” about 9,000 of whom are released annually after serving about 3.5 years. Another 7,000 are “third strikers,” fewer than 100 of whom are released annually after serving about 17 years. Approximately 33,000 inmates are serving sentences of life or life without parole. Fewer than 1,000 of these inmates are released every year, typically after spending two or more decades behind bars.
23%: People Over 50. Not only does this population intersect with lower criminal risk and higher medical risk, it also correlated with cost. According to the Public Policy Institute of California and Pew center data they cite, in fiscal year 2015 the state spent $19,796 per inmate on health care–more than thrice the national average.
To this, we can add a few smaller populations, numbering a few thousand each. Let’s start with people on death row and people on life without parole, who have been exempted from pretty much any release valve possible. The Governor has the authority to commute both of those sentences to life with parole today, and this is probably the right course of action anyway, pandemic or no pandemic. We have a moratorium on the death penalty, which means no one is getting executed but we are still paying for expensive capital punishment litigation. Cut out the middle man and shift all these folks to life with parole. I talk about how these three sentences are indistinguishable anyway in Yesterday’s Monsters, chapter 2.
There are also, apparently, a few hundred people still incarcerated who have been recommended for parole and approved by the Governor–coalition members have identified a few dozen in San Quentin alone. If these people have been given the green light to be released, why are they still behind bars? As for people who have been recommended for release and still awaiting the Governor’s authorization, now’s the time to expedite that.
Finally, lifting the offense limitations on people from outbreak epicenters, people with medical conditions, and the like, should expand those numbers considerably, given the significant overlap between crime of commitment, length of sentence, age, and health condition.
My point is that all of this is eminently doable, and there would hardly be any downsides. If we can just let go of the tendency to view only one side of the cost equation, and of our hangup about the nonviolent/violent distinction, we can scale up the proposed release plan to the point that it will be effective. Let me end with this thought: Gov. Newsom announced that the goal is to reduce San Quentin population to close to 100% of design capacity. In a sane world, prisons that are at 100% occupancy are not a goal. They are a starting point.
August 14 Update: Jason Fagone has a gorgeous piece in today’s Chron explaining how we could achieve a 50% reduction today, with negligible impact on public safety.
My forthcoming book Yesterday’s Monsters examines the parole hearings of the Manson Family, who have been consistently denied parole for decades. A key issue in the book is the notoriety of the murders and the prevalence of a narrative about them, which I call “the Helter Skelter narrative”, that portrays the crimes as bizarre, sui generis occurrences. You’ll have to read the book to see how the Board of Parole Hearings handles these cases. For now, since I’m visiting Israel for a few weeks, here are two stories of local “redball criminals” and how their requests for parole and vacation have been handled.
A few words about prison sentences for murder in Israel: Until a recent amendment, the only sentence possible for murder was life in prison. The court did not announce a minimum time like in the U.S. (such as “twenty-five to life”); it merely announced “life”. The authority to decide how long “life” lay solely in the hands of the President of Israel–a role he inherited from the British High Commissioner prior to Israeli independence. Life prisoners submitted a request to set the length of their prison sentence, and a special department at the President’s office made a recommendation. From then on the sentence would be treated as a finite sentence for release purposes, whose clock starts ticking after the inmate has served two thirds of the sentence; for example, if the President set the sentence at, say, thirty years, the prisoner would come up for parole after twenty years. There’s been a recent amendment that Americanizes the scheme of homicide offenses in Israel, but it’s not particularly relevant to this post.[1]
Another important note pertains to vacations. Under the Prison Ordinance and relevant regulations, prisoners are eligible for short vacations from prison. These depend on the prisoner’s level of dangerousness, the purpose for the vacation (an important family event, such as a funeral or an important birthday), and the time the prisoner has spent behind bars. Some of my lifer clients from the late 1990s have been receiving vacations regularly.
In 1995, as not only Israeli readers know, Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin was murdered by political assassin Yigal Amir. The murder shook the country to the core, and as we all know, irrevocably changed the course of history by derailing the peace process, assisting Netanyahu in ascending to the Prime Minister role, and legitimizing hate campaigns against Israeli Arab citizens, Palestinian residents, and the Israeli left-wing. But closer to the events themselves, there was still some horror and shock about the crime, which led the Knesset to legislate a special personal law, colloquially known as the “Yigal Amir Law”: a law that binds the discretion of the parole board in cases of people who murder the Prime Minister for political-ideological reasons. There’s only one such person (so far), and the law was specifically tailored to address his particular case. The President may theoretically disregard the Board’s legally-mandated “recommendation” not to release Amir, and in these times it’s not completely farfetched to imagine a President who might do so, but disincentives abound (the committee is chaired by a Justice of the Israel Supreme Court.)
Interestingly, some members of Meretz, the left-wing, civil-rights political party, abstained from the vote. They explained that creating a special, personal law for just one person was a violation of the principle of legality, no matter who the person was. Others expressed similar trepidation, but thought this was such a rare and unique case that there was no concern about a snowball effect (things have gone so seriously awry in the civil rights arena in Israel to the point that I’m no longer sure this is true.)
Another famous case involved the horrific murder of Asaf Shtierman in 1996, which remained unsolved until 2000. When a woman named Sandrine Ben-David reported severe domestic violence incidents to the police, the investigation revealed that her young husband, Rei Horev, and two young women, Sigalit Heimovitch and Lihi Gluzman, were responsible for the murder. Horev, the main instigator (for psychopathic reasons that are very hard to undestand – Shtierman was a stranger to him), received life in prison, and has been behind bars for nearly twenty years. He is, according to reports, a model prisoner with a clean disciplinary record, entrusted with responsibilities such as working on a computer. When Horev’s son with Ben-David turned 13, Horev received a short vacation from prison to attend his Bar Mitzvah (under heavy Prison Authority guard.) However, when Horev’s son enlisted in the army, Horev’s request for a vacation was denied. The judge who chaired the committee wrote a decision that reminded me a lot of the Californian equivalent Board’s vague justifications to keep the Manson Family behind bars: “According to his employers in prison, he is a responsible, essential prisoner, devoted to work, contributing, serious, and meaningful. . . he participates in educational activities and has successfully completed several therapeutic group. His psychological assessment diagnosed a significant tendency to avoid negative feelings, aggressive urges, and to see the world in an overly optimistic way. This mechanism serves him now, but might make things difficult for him when he confronts situations that evoke strong feelings. Despite a high level of insight about his past, he is lacking a deep understanding about the destructive dynamics of his past close relationships, which could be a source of difficulty in the future.”
A couple of days ago I posted about convicted rapist-murderer Shlomo Haliwa, who gets out in 2024; Horev, if he receives the customary reduction of a third of his sentence ,gets out in 2025. Who is to say which of these men is or is not dangerous? Anyone who’s heard Haliwa on tape explaining to crime documentary producers that he “likes to fuck” and that all his “relationships” were consensual with girls who “wanted them” can conclude that this is not someone who’s shown a smidgeon of insight. When he gets out, he will be 75 years old, and is still a strong, healthy man, probably as easily capable of overpowering and coercing a woman as he did in his thirties. Horev, on the other hand, has expressed remorse for his horrific crime; the extent to which he can be believed is debatable.
These cases raise the same difficulties that Yesterday’s Monsters raise about the Manson Family inmates. To what extent does the notoriety of a case impact decisions to release? And is it a legitimate consideration? Is it legitimate to factor the public’s distaste for a particular murderer in decisions to deny parole or vacations? And is there a proper measure of whether the distaste is justified? Redball crimes matter a lot in creating public policy and fueling the public’s imagination about crime, but they also feature real victims and real perpetrators who are, after all, just people. Yesterday’s Monsters comes out early 2020 from UC Press.
————————————
[1] It is, however, relevant to some of my other work: I’ve been studying American influences on Israeli criminal justice.
Today’s stunning, forward-thinking announcement from Governor Newsom requires some careful parsing out. I am on my way to KQED, where I will discuss this with Scott Shafer and Marisa Lagos at 11am. If you can’t listen to the broadcast, here are some initial thoughts about the implication of this announcement and where I think we should go from here.
Gov. Gavin Newsom is suspending the death penalty in California, calling it discriminatory and immoral, and is granting reprieves to the 737 condemned inmates on the nation’s largest Death Row. “I do not believe that a civilized society can claim to be a leader in the world as long as its government continues to sanction the premeditated and discriminatory execution of its people,” Newsom said in a statement accompanying an executive order, to be issued Wednesday, declaring a moratorium on capital punishment in the state. “The death penalty is inconsistent with our bedrock values and strikes at the very heart of what it means to be a Californian.” He plans to order an immediate shutdown of the death chamber at San Quentin State Prison, where the last execution was carried out in 2006. Newsom is also withdrawing California’s recently revised procedures for executions by lethal injection, ending — at least for now — the struggle by prison officials for more than a decade to devise procedures that would pass muster in federal court by minimizing the risk of a botched and painful execution.
The elements of Newsom’s orders are therefore: (1) a reprieve for every death row inmate; (2) shutdown of the execution chamber (3) a withdrawal of the continuous effort to revise death protocols, which we discussed on this blog numerous times. So, no more “tinkering with the machinery of death,” for at least a while.
Moratorium: What It Isn’t
Newsom is not commuting anyone’s death sentence. Even though executions will not happen, all death row inmates are still sentenced to death and housed on Death Row. He is also not pardoning anyone. This is far from the last step on the road to death penalty abolition. Shutting down the chamber and the protocol revision process, however, will set back executions even if Newsom’s predecessor misguidedly brings the death penalty back.
Why Didn’t Newsom Commute All Death Sentences?
Not all death sentences are eligible for commutation, and if Newsom were to commute all of them, he would be facing ferocious litigation. Shortly before the end of his gubernatorial career, Jerry Brown offered some commutations, which were reversed by the California Supreme Court, citing “abuse of power.” Some capital convictions, under California law, are not eligible for commutation, importantly in cases of prior felony convictions, which is the case for about half the inmates on death row. The last word on commutations lies with the court, not with the Governor, and if the Newsom administration wants to offer commutations, it will have to offer them on a case-by-case basis.
Why now?
It’s anyone’s guess, so here are some of my speculations. First, even in these cynical times, when the federal government is full of self-interested people for whom values and the good of the country do not rank particularly high on the priority list, there still are folks who do things on the state and local level because they think they are the right thing to do. Newsom is a long-time opponent of the death penalty and what he has done is in line with his personal values (in fact, conservative commentators have already attacked him for putting his values first–as if it is a bad thing.) Other reasons for the timing might involve the Kevin Cooper case, in which Newsom, joining the growing chorus of people with serious doubts about the conviction, recently ordered more DNA testing. Also, keep in mind that this is not a departure from Newsom’s previous gubernatorial acts in the criminal justice area. A classic example is his plan to move juvenile justice out of CDCR’s control into health and human services. He seems to be hell-bent on dragging the California correctional apparatus, kicking and screaming, into the 21st century, and turn us from a national embarrassment to a national leader in criminal justice.
Can Pro-Death-Penalty Activists Stop This?
They can try, and likely will. There’s nothing they can do about the 737 reprieves–those are squarely within the Governor’s ambit–but they could argue that the shutdown of the chamber and withdrawal of the regulations slouches toward an encroachment on a legislative process. It is quite likely that, in the next couple of days, they will seek (and perhaps receive) an injunction against that part of the Governor’s order, and that will drag on in the courts for a while. Meanwhile, though, no one gets executed, and that’s the material thing, and moreover, as of 12:45pm today, the death chamber has already been physically dismantled.
What Happens to Existing Death Penalty Litigation?
Because none of the sentencing has changed, everything in the capital litigation machine remains in place; in fact, just this morning I spoke to a friend who specializes on capital postconviction litigation and he was on his way to court for a death penalty case. So all of that stuff–quibbling over injections and historical miscarriages of justice–continues as scheduled, except perhaps with some less urgency.
Can Prosecutors Seek the Death Penalty in Cases Pending Today?
Yes, they can, and there are already murmurs around the web by prosecutors that they are required to do the bidding of their constituents (remind me again why we elect prosecutors and politicize our justice system?). But it would be, perhaps, more difficult for a San Bernardino, L.A., Orange, or Riverside county D.A. to justify seeking capital punishment, which is costly litigation (partly because it triggers an automatic appeal)
Should We Try to Abolish through an Initiative Again?
My two cents: Not anytime soon. Here’s why: When several European countries abolished the death penalty when local public opinion still favored it (check out the current struggle in Belarus, which embarrassingly is the only other Western country, beside the United States, with a death penalty). This seems to be one of those things–like, ahem, slavery, antimiscegenation, and homophobic laws about legal recognition of relationships–where top-down decisions tend to precede changes in public opinion and the public falls in line later. Keep in mind that support for the death penalty is at its lowest point since the 1960s and declining; in a recent piece, Daniel LaChance assesses the death penalty in the 21st century and concludes that it is in its last throes.
And remember, Newsom is a sharp and accurate predictor of the arc of progress, as he did with the marriage equality debacle, but he sometimes predicts things too soon for the public. Recall that he was on the right side of the same-sex marriage debate back in 2004, when thousands of our friends and neighbors stood in line in front of San Francisco City Hall to get married. What followed was years of arduous litigation, including a legal change AND a constitutional amendment that were supported by a small majority of Californians (just like the death penalty.) Newsom’s patience in leading struggles like this, it seems, pays off, and even though some criticized it as a political risky move, Kamala Harris’ recent trials and tribulations show that taking the opposite tack (doing politically expedient things that support the death penalty and selling out values for technicalities) also does not exactly pay off. If one has to choose between the fallout from being a careful political tactician and being a leader with values, Newsom has consistently chosen the latter.
Which is why I think we need to let the fallout from this play out for a while without getting public opinion mixed into all this (we know that, in 1865, the Civil War defeat didn’t exactly shift all Southerners toward support of slavery abolition.) Let’s see where the litigation over the order goes. Let’s keep track of homicide rates in the state for a few years, and when we see–as research consistently shows–that the moratorium has not eroded deterrence and that the death penalty has no proven deterrent power, it will be easier to get rid of it. Also, the passage of time plays out into another important aspect of this: the Eighth Amendment interpretation incorporates “evolving standards of decency”, so let’s allow them to evolve and see what the courts do. Which brings us to our last two points:
Nationwide Implications for the Death Penalty? Eighth Amendment litigation is often shaped by the passage of time. What seemed kind and usual at one time might not seem like that today, and notwithstanding Foucaultian scholars and postmodernists of all stripes, in general the courts’ tendency has been to assume that we are moving forward, not in circles. California becoming a de-facto abolitionist state is a huge boost to the national struggle for abolition. We have the biggest death row in the country and have been very influential in the arena of extreme punishment. This is a big contribution to the critical mass of states that have moved to the abolitionist side–nineteen so far, and with California it’ll be twenty–and this bodes very well for a national abolition, though the current Supreme Court might be a more difficult venue to pursue this than how it was in its pre-Gorsuch and Kavanaugh makeup.
What About LWOP and LWP–the Other Two Components of the Extreme Punishment Trifecta?
Newsom’s decision does not affect the tens of thousands of people serving lengthy life sentences in California–with and without parole. Moreover, keeping death row inmates on death row means that they continue to litigate extensively at the state’s expense, and none of that investment and attention goes into the other two components of what I call, in my forthcoming book Yesterday’s Monsters, the “extreme punishment trifecta.” If anything, taking the mystery out of whether people are getting executed highlights the lack of difference between death row and life sentences and makes the arguments that life sentences are “the other death penalty” starker.
This only means that what happened today is good news. As readers of this blog know, I’ve always been upset with the progressive tendency to assume that reform is the enemy of revolution and that Dismantlement of the Prison Industrial Complex Must Happen Today Or Not At All. Which is why I wrote, back in 2016, this op-ed, titled “Are you against the death penalty? Good. Then vote against the death penalty.” The point that life sentences are cruel and horrible is not lost on me; quite the opposite, I’ve written a book that argues that attacking LWOP is not enough and that LWP is just as draconian given the vicissitudes of the CA parole system. But what we must remember is that reform always happens incrementally. I recently got to talk about this with Marc Mauer, coauthor of The Meaning of Life. Mauer says we must focus on life sentence abolition in all states that have already abolished the death penalty, and I think he’s right. Newsom’s courageous stance means that we can get to that business in California soon, and I, for one, am delighted that we finally get to fight more fights for what’s right.
Governor Gavin Newsom is expected to announce he is taking executive action to try to eliminate the use of the death penalty in California. Two sources familiar with the governor’s plans tell NBC4’s I-Team that Newsom may use the governor office’s authority to reduce sentences of all condemned inmates on death row. Newsom has been calling elected officials around the state to share some information, but details are expected to be revealed at a news conference at 10 a.m. Wednesday.
