Since the Renaissance there has been debate about the most sever criminal penalty any society can mandate, death. By virtue of its finality, it has been the default maximum for centuries. For some the irrevocably of a state administered execution has become distasteful, incompatible with either spiritual beliefs or contemporary sensibilities. It raises the question of whether or not the death penalty has a place in modern society, especially with a growing list of people on death row exonerated because of unjust prosecutions and new forensics.
More often than not debates about the death penalty are carried out in the abstract. Capital cases are exceedingly rare, life sentences in contrast are far more common, though not without their own controversies.
In 1888 Russian author Anton Chekhov (1860-1904) wrote a two-chapter short story entitled The Bet where two men argue the morality of life sentences versus death sentences. One of the men agrees to be voluntarily imprisoned for fifteen years in exchange for a fortune if he remains confined the entire time. The wager aside, the debate over life and death is a moral, philosophical and emotional mine field, since in both cases "...they serve the same object—to take away life." The Rubicon here is which sentence best serves justice.
Vengeance/retribution are one of the functions of justice systems throughout the United States. The state takes on the burden of either containment or execution because both require a will that few people possess to carry for themselves. In fact, the very idea of personally imprisoning another person for decades is exhausting and is only rarely seen in hostage situations. And in spite how popular media might portray vengeance killings, taking a life is not easy.
Take for example our nations warriors, the righteous defenders of freedom: men and women—soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines trained to take life in defense of America. Any combat veteran who has killed another human understands the personal cost killing exacts. The bill doesn't come due in the moment the rifle recoils, or the concussion of a grenade washes over. It comes later when the smell of cordite and rush of adrenaline are gone[semicolon] the last sight picture, the first glimpse of gore and whispers of self-doubt emerge to gnaw at the soul. This is what the state spares the survivors of our society's most serious crimes by acting as their proxy. Because the state is the sum of its people, the question of what shape vengeance should take remains a difficult one.
Take the families of Marjory Stoneman-Douglas high school[semicolon] for them this question is an open wound. The idea that the killer of their loved ones will live a long life in prison is galling. However, the twenty-seven thousand days the killer might spend in prison will not be the spiritual respite of Chekhov's prisoner. Florida's prisons are particularly violent.
In part the abuses the shooter will suffer are due to his crimes, in addition to the predations his youth, cognitive disabilities and lack of social skills will attract. There will be no reprieve, no escape. That is unless he is granted protective custody. Regardless, it is unlikely that he will enjoy a long life.
As Chekhov's characters put it, sentences of life and death "...serve the same object—to take away life." Which of the two best exemplifies our nations values? Rapid, merciful closure, a brutal lingering, or something that we cannot see from our place in the world. For now, the answers to this question are best left to each citizen to ponder for themselves.
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