The Death Penalty: Who Wins When the State Sanctions Killing?

In March of this year, Darrell Keith Rich was executed at San Quentin for the brutal rape and killing of four women and girls in 1978. His death gave many a sense that justice, however slow, had at last been done. “Today my family and I will visit my sister’s grave and tell her that she can finally, truly rest in peace,” said the brother of one of the victims.

This case is particularly painful for opponents of the death penalty to contemplate. Rich’s actions were savage and callous almost beyond belief, and the pain that he caused to his victims and their families is immeasurable. Yet it is just the kind of case that we must look at if, like me, you have serious qualms about the whole enterprise of state-sponsored killing that we call the death penalty.

The arguments in favor of capital punishment are strong and familiar. It’s an effective deterrent. It removes all risk of repeat offense. It’s a lot cheaper than life imprisonment--or would be, if the appeals process were streamlined. From the perspective of justice, many believe that it is the only appropriate punishment for certain crimes, and that murderers have forfeited their right to life by their actions. On an emotional level, we can identify with the victims’ families who see in the execution a long-awaited “closure” to their ordeal.

I admit the force of these arguments, but rather than skirmish over details I want to try and say why, for all that, we should still oppose the death penalty.

When we wrench our minds away from the murderer and his victims and look at ourselves, we can get a new perspective. In my experience, those who support the death penalty divide into two camps--those who have qualms and those who don’t. For those without qualms, it’s a no-brainer--”He did it, we caught him, we killed him, it’s over, move on.” Nothing that anyone might say can change the minds of people who think like this. They will see any other view as mushy-headed and impractical nonsense.

But many supporters of the death penalty do have qualms. They worry about the possibility of mistake, they worry about whether the perpetrator might reform, they worry about the ethnic, class and gender disparities in the application of the death penalty. And they worry about themselves. What do we become when we cheer the killing of a fellow human being? What message do we give our children? Death penalty supporters would like to believe that the message is that killing is so wrong that society can only show its respect for life by killing the perpetrator. But I suspect our children are smart enough to catch the underlying emotional meaning: It’s OK to kill as long as you do it legally.

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Participation in the death penalty, however indirectly, hardens our hearts. It corrupts our character, and it corrupts our society. It gives us no chance of rising above our instinct for revenge. It locks us into the past and blinds us to the future. It institutionalizes violence and mortal fear into the very fabric of our collective identity. It creates a spiritual prison which is no less real if we fail to see the bars (I speak as one who for many years supported the death penalty).

Forgiveness, hope and healing cannot enter the punitive heart. Fifty years ago, in her book “The Need for Roots,”the philosopher Simone Weil said: “In order to have the right to punish the guilty, we ought first of all to purify ourselves of their crimes, which we harbor under all sorts of disguises in our own hearts. But if we manage to perform this operation, once it has been accomplished we shall no longer feel the least desire to punish, and if we consider ourselves obliged to do so, it will be as little as possible and with extreme sorrow.” This is not a recipe for weakness but a call to strength. It asks a lot, especially from those who have suffered personally, but it is the path to healing.

Finally, it helps to remember that the most brutal of killers was an innocent child once, is still our brother or sister, and by grace may yet fulfill the goals of love. He or she has walked upon the same earth as we, has seen and struggled like us, has wept and hoped like us, has created a unique inner world with not only evil in it. In being willing to end it, we kill a part of ourselves. With the death penalty, nobody wins.