

SUBSCRIBE TO OUR FREE NEWSLETTER
Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
5
#000000
#FFFFFF
To donate by check, phone, or other method, see our More Ways to Give page.


Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
The power of racial bias has long loomed over the death penalty, yet
has seldom been directly confronted in the courts. But in North
Carolina, a race analysis of capital punishment is now being written
into law.
The passage of the Racial Justice Act
by North Carolina lawmakers on Thursday won't rescue innocents from
execution or redress centuries of discrimination in criminal justice.
Instead, the bill
offers people sentenced to death a more modest, but nonetheless vital,
legal tool: the ability to challenge their conviction by looking at
trends of racial disparities in death sentences. A defendant could be
granted relief "upon the ground that racial considerations played a
significant part in the decision to seek or impose a death sentence."
In a state where Blacks are vastly over-represented on Death Row, it
would be up to the government to prove racism did not steer the sentencing decision.
Conservatives argued the law would distort the judicial process by
relying too heavily on statistical trends. Republican State Senator
Phil Berger told the Winston-Salem Journal, "What this does is it
places the determination of a significant part of first-degree murder
cases into the hands of statisticians, regardless of what the facts
are."
But NC Policy Watch counters that the recent exoneration of three Black Death Row inmates
shows that to just look at "the facts of the case" is to further blind
the criminal justice system to its inherent racism. Statistics alone
shouldn't decide a legal case, but neither should racial prejudice, and
the law is intended to help prevent bias from substituting for evidence.
Appalachian State University professor Matthew Robinson wrote in a recent News & Observer commentary:
[The Racial Justice Act] does not assure racial
justice, but it can help bring it about. The law is one of the most
powerful legitimate weapons we can use to rid our state criminal
justice practice of racial bias. It does not address the roots of the
problem -- stereotypes, fear and even racism -- but it is a start. And
the bill provides a potential remedy for those who can conclusively
demonstrate to a judge that race played a role in their case.
Yet the bill, to the extent that it opens the door to relief for
some death row inmates, reveals the need to address other barriers to
justice.
Relief under the Act is limited; it would simply convert a death
sentence to life imprisonment. It also exposes deeper problems in the
handling of capital punishment cases-the insidious influence of jury
bias, prosecutors' manipulation of racial stereotypes, or, more
generally, the establishment's tendency to value white lives more than Black ones.
On the national level, the bill is a reaction to a landmark Supreme Court decision, McCleskey v. Kemp,
which has been dubbed the "Dred Scott decision of our time." Warren
McClesky, a Black man convicted in Georgia of killing a police officer,
tried challenge his sentence by presenting research showing that race
was a strong factor in the risk of being sentenced to death. Rejecting
equal protection claims, the court ruled
that the cited study did not offer convincing enough evidence of racial
bias. The decision left state legislatures to deal with issues of
racial disparity in sentencing.
Yet laws designed to remedy racial discrimination in capital
punishment cases raise questions about broader injustices. This is one
reason why North Carolina and other states have effectively imposed a
moratorium on executions altogether. Exposing the opposition's penchant
for state-sponsored killing, some lawmakers tried to amend the bill to facilitate the resumption of executions.
The debate rages on about the ethics of hate crimes laws,
which ramp up penalties according to individual motivations, a law like
the Racial Justice act could be one way to bring criminal justice
further in line with the struggle for racial equity. Incorporating into
the legal framework an analysis of systemic bias could help redress
discrimination, while moving the judicial process in the direction of
humanity, rather than punishment.
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
The power of racial bias has long loomed over the death penalty, yet
has seldom been directly confronted in the courts. But in North
Carolina, a race analysis of capital punishment is now being written
into law.
The passage of the Racial Justice Act
by North Carolina lawmakers on Thursday won't rescue innocents from
execution or redress centuries of discrimination in criminal justice.
Instead, the bill
offers people sentenced to death a more modest, but nonetheless vital,
legal tool: the ability to challenge their conviction by looking at
trends of racial disparities in death sentences. A defendant could be
granted relief "upon the ground that racial considerations played a
significant part in the decision to seek or impose a death sentence."
In a state where Blacks are vastly over-represented on Death Row, it
would be up to the government to prove racism did not steer the sentencing decision.
Conservatives argued the law would distort the judicial process by
relying too heavily on statistical trends. Republican State Senator
Phil Berger told the Winston-Salem Journal, "What this does is it
places the determination of a significant part of first-degree murder
cases into the hands of statisticians, regardless of what the facts
are."
But NC Policy Watch counters that the recent exoneration of three Black Death Row inmates
shows that to just look at "the facts of the case" is to further blind
the criminal justice system to its inherent racism. Statistics alone
shouldn't decide a legal case, but neither should racial prejudice, and
the law is intended to help prevent bias from substituting for evidence.
Appalachian State University professor Matthew Robinson wrote in a recent News & Observer commentary:
[The Racial Justice Act] does not assure racial
justice, but it can help bring it about. The law is one of the most
powerful legitimate weapons we can use to rid our state criminal
justice practice of racial bias. It does not address the roots of the
problem -- stereotypes, fear and even racism -- but it is a start. And
the bill provides a potential remedy for those who can conclusively
demonstrate to a judge that race played a role in their case.
Yet the bill, to the extent that it opens the door to relief for
some death row inmates, reveals the need to address other barriers to
justice.
Relief under the Act is limited; it would simply convert a death
sentence to life imprisonment. It also exposes deeper problems in the
handling of capital punishment cases-the insidious influence of jury
bias, prosecutors' manipulation of racial stereotypes, or, more
generally, the establishment's tendency to value white lives more than Black ones.
On the national level, the bill is a reaction to a landmark Supreme Court decision, McCleskey v. Kemp,
which has been dubbed the "Dred Scott decision of our time." Warren
McClesky, a Black man convicted in Georgia of killing a police officer,
tried challenge his sentence by presenting research showing that race
was a strong factor in the risk of being sentenced to death. Rejecting
equal protection claims, the court ruled
that the cited study did not offer convincing enough evidence of racial
bias. The decision left state legislatures to deal with issues of
racial disparity in sentencing.
Yet laws designed to remedy racial discrimination in capital
punishment cases raise questions about broader injustices. This is one
reason why North Carolina and other states have effectively imposed a
moratorium on executions altogether. Exposing the opposition's penchant
for state-sponsored killing, some lawmakers tried to amend the bill to facilitate the resumption of executions.
The debate rages on about the ethics of hate crimes laws,
which ramp up penalties according to individual motivations, a law like
the Racial Justice act could be one way to bring criminal justice
further in line with the struggle for racial equity. Incorporating into
the legal framework an analysis of systemic bias could help redress
discrimination, while moving the judicial process in the direction of
humanity, rather than punishment.
The power of racial bias has long loomed over the death penalty, yet
has seldom been directly confronted in the courts. But in North
Carolina, a race analysis of capital punishment is now being written
into law.
The passage of the Racial Justice Act
by North Carolina lawmakers on Thursday won't rescue innocents from
execution or redress centuries of discrimination in criminal justice.
Instead, the bill
offers people sentenced to death a more modest, but nonetheless vital,
legal tool: the ability to challenge their conviction by looking at
trends of racial disparities in death sentences. A defendant could be
granted relief "upon the ground that racial considerations played a
significant part in the decision to seek or impose a death sentence."
In a state where Blacks are vastly over-represented on Death Row, it
would be up to the government to prove racism did not steer the sentencing decision.
Conservatives argued the law would distort the judicial process by
relying too heavily on statistical trends. Republican State Senator
Phil Berger told the Winston-Salem Journal, "What this does is it
places the determination of a significant part of first-degree murder
cases into the hands of statisticians, regardless of what the facts
are."
But NC Policy Watch counters that the recent exoneration of three Black Death Row inmates
shows that to just look at "the facts of the case" is to further blind
the criminal justice system to its inherent racism. Statistics alone
shouldn't decide a legal case, but neither should racial prejudice, and
the law is intended to help prevent bias from substituting for evidence.
Appalachian State University professor Matthew Robinson wrote in a recent News & Observer commentary:
[The Racial Justice Act] does not assure racial
justice, but it can help bring it about. The law is one of the most
powerful legitimate weapons we can use to rid our state criminal
justice practice of racial bias. It does not address the roots of the
problem -- stereotypes, fear and even racism -- but it is a start. And
the bill provides a potential remedy for those who can conclusively
demonstrate to a judge that race played a role in their case.
Yet the bill, to the extent that it opens the door to relief for
some death row inmates, reveals the need to address other barriers to
justice.
Relief under the Act is limited; it would simply convert a death
sentence to life imprisonment. It also exposes deeper problems in the
handling of capital punishment cases-the insidious influence of jury
bias, prosecutors' manipulation of racial stereotypes, or, more
generally, the establishment's tendency to value white lives more than Black ones.
On the national level, the bill is a reaction to a landmark Supreme Court decision, McCleskey v. Kemp,
which has been dubbed the "Dred Scott decision of our time." Warren
McClesky, a Black man convicted in Georgia of killing a police officer,
tried challenge his sentence by presenting research showing that race
was a strong factor in the risk of being sentenced to death. Rejecting
equal protection claims, the court ruled
that the cited study did not offer convincing enough evidence of racial
bias. The decision left state legislatures to deal with issues of
racial disparity in sentencing.
Yet laws designed to remedy racial discrimination in capital
punishment cases raise questions about broader injustices. This is one
reason why North Carolina and other states have effectively imposed a
moratorium on executions altogether. Exposing the opposition's penchant
for state-sponsored killing, some lawmakers tried to amend the bill to facilitate the resumption of executions.
The debate rages on about the ethics of hate crimes laws,
which ramp up penalties according to individual motivations, a law like
the Racial Justice act could be one way to bring criminal justice
further in line with the struggle for racial equity. Incorporating into
the legal framework an analysis of systemic bias could help redress
discrimination, while moving the judicial process in the direction of
humanity, rather than punishment.