scorched earth

Early this morning, the State of California executed Stanley Tookie Williams—by means of lethal injection—for his conviction of the robbery murders of four people in Los Angeles in 1979.

Those who know me well understand that one of the reasons I left my home state of Virginia was to distance myself from such frequent use of the death penalty. About half of the executions in the United States are carried out by Virginia and Texas combined. Texas, with a much larger population, has executed more people than the Commonwealth of Virginia, but per capita, Virginia puts more people to death.

I was a member of my local chapter of Amnesty International. I wrote letters, made telephone calls, and attended vigils. As I've written in a previous blog entry, genuine intent, I'd even started work on a book about the death penalty, but I was just too close to it at the time. It was happening around me, and I couldn't make it stop. The Commonwealth of Virginia was executing people, and doing so in my name, and the names of all its citizens. I simply couldn't be a part of it anymore.

Oregon does have the death penalty, though it is not used nearly as frequently as in Virginia, Texas, or other death penalty states. Still, I am uncomfortable with the possibility that down the road, my adopted home may choose to kill someone, in my name.

This isn't some preachy essay on the sanctity of life, or how "an eye-for-an-eye leaves the whole world blind." My thoughts on the American penal system might easily fill an entire volume, and Williams' work and books since he was sentenced to death certainly argues that he grew into someone much different than the man who had been convicted in 1984.

However, I do believe that violence begets violence begets violence, and that the only way to stop this downward spiral—because it's obviously not working—is to get the hell off of it.

Where is the compassion? Where is the empathy? Not only for Williams and his family, but for the families of the murder victims? For the children who are growing up in an increasingly violent world, receiving such mixed messages from their own government?

Sister Helen Prejean—a Roman Catholic nun and prominent opponent of the death penalty who wrote Dead Man Walking, on which the movie of the same name was based—was quoted this morning in a CNN.com article as describing the death penalty as "gang justice":

"Gang justice is, if you kill a member of our gang, we kill you -- and don't tell me anything about how you changed your life or what you're going to do... You kill, and we kill you. And that's what the United States of America is doing with this."

Isaac Asimov stated that "Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent." Some will argue that "sometimes you have to fight fire with fire," but that still leaves you with a lot of scorched earth.