What is GOOD?

What is good and what is evil are like beauty:  It is in the eyes of the beholder. To some, killing Christians is good. To others killing Americans is good. To some, killing for Christ is good. For some, killing some poor wretch in the electric chair is good. For some, abortion is good.  For others, abortion is evil and abortionists should be killed. For some, justice as rendered is good. For others, the same justice as rendered is not. Neither morality nor beauty are endemic to the universe. They belong solely to the soul of man.

Dare I say, “Be good?”

Our children as killers

In the end my principal rage against the death penalty is not reserved for those, innocent or not, who occupy a six-by-eight concrete cell on death row. I fight the idea of killing killers because we irreparably tarnish ourselves and scar our children. We were all born in utter innocence. How we grow — into the beauty of our potential, or into the failed product of hate and vengeance is a matter in which society has a profound interest.

Studies universally show that we cannot put an end to killing by killing. In fact, states without the penalty have fewer murders than those with the highest number of executions. Texas, for instance, whose homicide rate is among the highest leads the nation in executions. One need not be a statistician to intuitively know that if a killer lives in Texas he will, to avoid the death penalty, go to Michigan, a state without the death penalty, to commit the murder he contemplates. Killing, among lesser factors, is the product of the environment in which the killer was created. If the state kills, don’t we understand that killing is acceptable human conduct – that whether it is right or wrong simply depends on who is in control?

So if the function of the death penalty is not to prevent killing, what is its function? If the death penalty does not make us safer, what benefit does it provide society? I say its only legitimate purpose is to reveal the psychic makeup of its proponents. Those who yammer and scream for the death penalty do so out of a need for vengeance. In the end, it serves only our darkest sides.

For me, I would hope that we can learn that hate and retribution, that suffering and killing are not the vision of a more enlightened people nor the role model for the innocent child. How society sees itself predicts how the child will see itself – the potential killer or the enlightened citizen.

Murder by We, the People

As we have been considering murder here I received word that a close friend of mine, Dana Cole, a fine man, lawyer and a law school professor, has recently witnessed the murder of his client.

I have argued that the seeds of murder abide in all of us. But what about the love of murder that flourishes in the belly of the law? The law purports to represent right conduct on the part of we, its subjects. But the law itself is a killer. And we, though those who represent us, author the law. As a trial lawyer for now more than fifty-six years I have acted on both sides of this question. But rarely do we discuss who actually endures the punishment of death.

Lawyers who take on a death penalty case are among our greatest heroes. They are few and unsung and often despised. Their pay is piteous. And some work without fee. But they protect the soul of the law. In America the promise is that every citizen, no matter how vicious and brutal, is entitled to a fair trial. Only a lawyer who loves the law and has a deep sense of the human condition would take on such an assignment. For most lawyers, such cases are too ugly, too bloody, too horrifying and too painful.

Here, in part, is what Dana wrote me concerning the execution of his client, Rick.

As the shock of witnessing my friend die begins to wear off, the horror only increases.  I have never had trouble sleeping until now.  I sleep only a few hours at a time and even then I have nightmares — bizarre dreams involving dogs that strain against their leashes and break their restraints but simultaneously break their necks.  I cry in restaurants without warning and without even consciously thinking about Rick.  If things don’t improve soon I’ll go see someone about it.
 
I have received unbelievably hateful voice and email messages.  More than one person has expressed their wish that my daughters suffer the same fate as the victims in Rick’s case.  I have also received very loving and supportive messages.

I feel compelled to defend Rick even in death.  I made the following statement to the press immediately after Rick was killed:

“I am Rick Cooey’s lawyer and friend.  The crimes that Rick committed he committed as an immature 19 year old influenced by drugs and alcohol.  We try to pretend we are somehow better than Rick. But what we witnessed here today was a killing that was planned and funded for more than 22 years.  The man we killed is not the same man who committed the crimes.  He had grown and evolved and matured and was today a 41 year old man who bore no resemblance to the teenager he once was.  He was good and decent, bright and articulate, creative and witty, and very kind.  He was loved by his family and his friends and even his lawyers and we will miss him.  Rick is now beyond pain — beyond sorrow — beyond the call for his blood.

We refused to show Rick mercy by arguing that he showed his victims no mercy. When we are asked to account to God for having killed Rick, what will we say? — that it was the law?  In the words of George Bernard Shaw, “Criminals do not die at the hands of the law; they die by the hands of other men.”  The mercy we refused Rick, we will surely someday need and may God have mercy on us all.”

They will send me Rick’s ashes and I will take him to Ireland to a spot he and I picked out together…Despite the pain of all this, I know I was right where I needed to be — with Rick until the end and beyond.

Meaningful words are hard to find. Here is some of what I wrote Dana:

Once more I ask, who is being punished here? Rick is at peace. His death will not erase the pain of his crime. You will bear the scars of this case for the rest of your life — and it has nothing to do with any failure on your part. It has to do with the injury that is imposed on decent, dedicated lawyers in cases in which this illegitimate penalty is imposed — for how can death be a just punishment in a system that makes intentional killing a crime?

We kill the killers and become killers, and wonder why we cannot stop the killing. Yes, we are killers. I, too, would kill with a certain glee if the Death Penalty were humanized and I could drive a knife through its heart once and for all.

In the end, Dana, you can see this as your gift, and Rick’s, toward the demise of the Death Penalty. As in any war, we have to invest so many lives in the battle before it can be won.

Indeed, if we executed the legislators who gave birth to this law; the judges and jurors who embraced it — who joined in this conspiracy to kill; if we applied the law of murder to the mob of citizens who clamored and yowled for Rick’s blood, and to the prison personnel who for twenty-two years planned and finally committed this public killing – if all were punished similarly for this premeditated murder, this uncivilized idea of the death penalty would soon vanish.

In the name of humanity we must stop the killing – all killing, or in the alternative we must stop claiming there is something noble, something heroic about the species that separates us from the beasts.

For the love of murder

Why do we care about murder?

We murder every day as regularly as we take our coffee in the morning. We murder in the fields of poverty, the poor beating out less than a bare living like slaves without the benefit of more comfortable ways to die. We murder in the name of war – which is but an acceptable excuse for the mob to kill other mobs. War is only gang killing by grownups. We murder in the gas chambers, or with the executioner’s needle on the gurney. We murder children, that is, we smash their beauty and creativity early on so they conform like beasts under the line and yoke.

The murder demon lurks evilly, furtively, insidiously in all of us. We have felt it. As born killers we have seen it in our mind’s eye. We deny it with all due vehemence. Have we ever thought of murder? Of course, not. No. Never.

Have we ever threatened murder? Weren’t we only joking, or simply expressing our passing anger when we said “I ought to kill the sonofabitch?” Just a way of speaking, so to speak?

But why does the idea of murder enthrall us so? The television marketers know it – their endless violent murders. Why do we stare so at the screen, excited like waiting hyenas for the kill? The psychologists call it sublimation. It is our deeply repressed need to kill that attracts us to the murder movie. Thankfully we can kill by watching killers. Violence and blood is a requirement because a neat and quiet killing does not satisfy.

We are all killers at heart. We know this, but we do not admit it. That is why we are so taken by the killing of others and their stories – like golfers like to watch golfers. OJ. Why did a nation become captured by a brutal killing committed by a man of little intrinsic worth? He could run his ass up and down a football field but he had little more to show for himself. If he’d been charged with sniffing glue or stealing baseball cards would we have cared? Even if he had been convicted of wife beating it might have made the headlines of the “National Enquirer” for a week or two. But a murder? A murder by OJ was something that would mesmerize a nation. Indeed, we were captivated by a single murder while we allowed millions elsewhere to die needless deaths from starvation or curable disease, which, when knowingly and intentionally permitted, could be argued as nothing less than murder.

It is the terror of murder – both our fear that it might be perpetrated against us or our loved ones, and that we, yes, we, might in some fit of passing insanity murder another. We do not speak of this although the kindest, most gentle know in secret places that they have fantasized murder – thank God we have our senses, our defenses so well poised against this monstrous crime – but we have seen it in our own mind’s eye. And the murderer was we.

It takes so little to arouse the murder gene within. Especially among the young. We make soldiers of these just-past-children because they can murder so readily. We teach them to intentionally kill, to kill with malice aforethought, to murder, not one but as many human beings as possible if they wear a different color cloth on their bodies (called uniforms) or if they pray to a different invisible entity (called their god.)

Perhaps murder is the easiest of all human skills to teach. It is easier to teach a young man to kill than to ice skate or shoot a decent game of pool, or to recite the Ten Commandments accurately, the sixth of which is a commandment against murder. One notes that having no other god before one, or creating a “graven image” or using the name of God in vain, or keeping the Sabbath holy or honoring father and mother are all commandments that come before the Bible’s admonition against murder. Presumably it is more sinful to work on Sunday than to murder.

And because murder is so much a part of us there is a powerful subliminal defense against murder. Legally one cannot cut the throat of a surprised bed partner of one’s wife, but a jury will often find ways to acquit such a killer because murder in the juror might explode in full force were he faced with the same situation. I am only saying that murder is so much a part of who we are as humans that we accept the horror of it with horror, mostly because the horror of it, in the end, explains who we are.