WEEKLY COLUMN:
JDM vs the WORLD

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FINE PRINT

Imagine if, instead of crime-ridden Los Angeles, the man who would come to be known as Stan “Tookie” Williams had spent his early, formative days elsewhere. Imagine if he had spent his youth in one of the nice new suburbs to which many whites fled after failing to stave off desegregation in the ‘40s and ‘50s. Would he have lived the life that earned him a death sentence, set to take place this December 13th? Would stars such as Jamie Foxx and Snoop Dogg be rallying ‘round his cause? Would websites like SaveTookie.org be set up to save him? Would his whole life rest in the hands of Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger? Would his very being come down to a question of clemency?

Imagine if, instead of co-founding the world famous Crips gang—which inspired waves of crime and violence in cities across the country—the man known as Tookie had, as a young American, satisfied his sense of time and place by pledging allegiance to the betterment of his street, his hood, his city, or even his country. Imagine if he’d been politically active, instead of criminally active. Imagine if he’d lived not for the moment but for the fulfillment of some kind of destiny. Imagine if he had had ambition. Imagine if he had had a dream. Would he have been caught, tried, and convicted of four murders? Would he have been behind bars since 1979? Would we be having this discussion today?

Imagine if the American legal system worked quickly. Imagine if, instead of this December 13th, Tookie had been executed—“served justice”—in 1981, the year he first entered death row. Imagine he’d never gotten around to renouncing gang violence in the early 1990s. Imagine he’d never penned the book Life In Prison, or several kids’ titles, which dared kids not to live the life that he lived. Would some kids turn to drugs, without Tookie to turn to? Would young men and women in major cities across the country be better off without some voice of reason, some soul who understands, who sees clearly the context—the destitution—in which they were born and bred and still live?

Ask yourself: Would Tookie’s death bring back the four innocent souls he murdered? Would those victims be with their families this holiday season? Would the world be restored to the way it was before Stan “Tookie” Williams walked the streets of L.A.?

Would killing a man for killing four others solve anything? Would taking his life somehow make our lives better, even if we’ve already got him right we want him—right where we need him—in prison, without parole?

I can’t imagine how it would.

Stan “Tookie” Williams is just the latest in a seemingly unending series of death row “cause celebre” cases. But beyond all the hype, beyond all the famous faces—the Jamie Foxxes and Snoop Doggs—lies the scheduled execution of a human. Not just a man with a violent past who co-founded a street gang, but a living, breathing person. This man, good or bad, for better or worse, is scheduled to die on December 13th. Imagine knowing the date of your own impending execution. Imagine knowing how many minutes you’ve got left. How many breaths. How many eye blinks.

Can you even imagine that?

Death penalty supporters will argue, as death penalty supporters often argue, that a man like Stan Williams deserves to be treated the way he’s being treated. He deserves to die. He deserves the fate that a jury has sealed for him, for sealing the fates of four innocent souls some 20-plus years ago. He hasn’t shown remorse, they’ve noticed. He hasn’t admitted his guilt. And besides: He’s a murderer. All true. But this line of thinking asks the wrong questions. It asks if a murderer deserves to be murdered, not if we, the people, deserve to murder him. It asks: Would society be better off without him? But it fails to ask: Would he be better off without society? Would he be better off dead than alive? Would he be better equipped to contribute—even atone for his sins—if he were buried six feet underground?

Many folks who oppose Tookie’s execution ask the wrong questions, too. Some point to his accomplishments over the last 10-15 years. He’s reformed, they say. Rehabilitated. They wonder: Why are we doing away with this man—this invaluable resource? Likewise, others cast a shadow of doubt. They ask: What if we’ve got the wrong guy here? What if Tookie didn’t do it? What if he was framed? What if he was the victim of racial bias? These are all the wrong questions. The position they take is one that lacks principle. They suggest it’s okay to execute someone… as long as it’s the right someone… and as long as he never wrote books for kids. Well, is it okay to execute people, or isn’t it? And what’s it matter who we execute, if we decide it’s okay to execute? Either every human life is an end unto itself, or it isn’t. You can’t have it both ways. A murderer is no more or less valuable than the murdered. That’s what makes every life wasted tragic. Or: That’s what makes every life wasted no big deal.

That’s the real question people ought to be asking here. Not if we should execute Stan “Tookie” Williams, convicted murderer and Crips co-founder. But if we should execute—period. People don’t like asking this question, because asking this question requires imagination. To electrocute someone, to inject him with poison, to suffocate him, or shoot him, is simple. Even spread out over 20 years, it’s a knee-jerk reaction—a quick, easy answer to the complex problem of how we should deal with those who would do, or have done, us harm. But for all the talk of the death penalty deterring murder in this country, it obviously doesn’t. For if it did, murderers would’ve long ago been deterred. Instead, to this day, we’re still debating whether to execute men like Tookie Williams this December 13th. Imagine a world in which that debate was the only thing we killed dead.

Perhaps the most famous victim of execution ever was Jesus. Jesus asked God to forgive the people who killed him, because he believed—even knew in his heart—that they killed him out of ignorance, arrogance, and general human selfishness. Jesus also fraternized with the kinds of people who today would lead lives like Stan Williams. He offered redemption to the lowest rungs of society. And he spoke out against eye-for-eye punishments. America is supposedly a Christian country. Religious beliefs are unregulated here; we don’t all have to follow in Jesus’s philosophical footsteps. But still, it’s quite clear our modern American beliefs don’t gel with what he practiced and preached. A life sentence is a better deterrent than a death sentence, because life offers something that death never could: Hope. If murder is something you’re looking to stamp out, hope is something you’re undoubtedly going to need.

I say save Stan “Tookie” Williams—not just for his sake, but ours. Only a country that expects the worst from its people would be so quick to give up on them.

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