The death penalty is a grave injustice. Recently, Missouri executed a plausibly innocent man from Minnesota named Marcellus Williams, reminding us of the worst-case scenario that can come out of the unfeeling machine of capital punishment. Seeing Williams, someone with credible claims of innocence, forced into a modern-day lynching, compels us to recognize the inefficacy of this mechanism. The death penalty operates without pause, even in the face of public outcry and overwhelming evidence of its moral failure.
Each execution is more than just a singular act of violence; it represents the culmination of a legal process that has repeatedly proven itself to be flawed, biased and indifferent to human life. Those who campaign against the death penalty find themselves locked in a struggle against an immovable force, facing a system that has mastered the art of dismissing calls for reform and ignoring pleas for mercy.
In this unyielding system, the sense of hopelessness capital punishment imparts on those of us who dare to protest is inevitable. But we owe it to ourselves, and our collective sense of justice, to turn that despair into action by continuing to fight for legal reforms, advocating for justice for the wrongly convicted and calling for the redistribution of death penalty resources toward victim support and systematic reform. Williams did not fall through the cracks of the legal system: He was pushed through. We must continue to hope, even when clear signs of injustice are dismissed. We can dismantle even the most immovable systems through sustained collective effort and an unwavering commitment to justice.
As of June 2024, there are 33 men and one woman on death row in Georgia, with 57.9% of those inmates being minorities. These statistics go beyond racial disparities and herald a systematic devaluation of marginalized lives. What occurs behind the bars of a prison plays out with distinct fidelity to the actualized reality of Black and Hispanic Americans. According to Associate Professor of Anaesthesiology at Emory School of Medicine Dr. Joel Zivot, an expert on lethal injection, “the death penalty is the final act of a series of other actions.” This is not merely a legal issue; it is a profound moral crisis that prioritizes time and again finality over fairness.
The case of Williams stands as a stark example of this relentless cycle of hopelessness and division. Even DNA evidence pointing to another suspect was not enough to halt the execution order looming over him. Despite widespread public protest and the involvement of advocates and experts, with even the original prosecutors and the family of the victim saying Williams should be spared, the machine marched forward. With over one million petition signatures in opposition to Williams’ execution and an admittance by the original prosecuting attorney of “manifest injustice,” the continued exercise of anti-death penalty protest falls on inattentive and solipsistic ears.
Hopelessness toward capital punishment’s injustices stems from the very nature of the death penalty as a process designed to be irreversible and absolute. At least 200 wrongful death sentences have been overturned in the U.S. since 1973, and they should be more than enough to question the legitimacy of capital punishment. With an estimated 4% of those executed being innocent, promises of retribution to victims’ families are unsupported.
Moreover, the death penalty has consistently ignored the wishes of victims’ families for the sake of so-called “fairness.” In Williams’ case, the victim’s family gave its blessing for Williams to receive a life sentence — an agreement that was then nullified as the Minnesota Supreme Court rushed toward execution.
Imagine the impact that could be made if the millions of dollars spent on capital punishment were instead invested in services that genuinely help victims’ families — supplying counseling, providing financial support and solving cold cases. Rather than prioritizing these critical needs, courts continue to allocate resources toward a system that perpetuates a false sense of justice.
Additionally, there is a profound emotional toll on those who protest against capital punishment. Many people on death row suffer years of isolation and torturous uncertainty before the state ever executes them. Outside of prisons, we speak out, organize and advocate, knowing the odds are stacked against us. Each time a person is executed, despite mounting evidence or shifting public opinion, it feels as though every passing day becomes bleaker — drawing the color of hope out of the future. The weight of this hopelessness is not just individual; it spreads across movements, weakening the resolve of even the most determined activists.
What makes this struggle even more disheartening is the political inertia surrounding capital punishment. The death penalty has become a symbol of the state’s unwillingness to confront its own moral failings. Even in states where public support for executions has waned, political leaders are largely reluctant to dismantle the system. For instance, President Joe Biden, the first in his position to openly oppose the death penalty, has not made significant executive moves to abolish the federal death penalty.
Our outrage cannot be futile. When the state takes a life through the death penalty, it forces the condemned into a kind of martyrdom – one they never choose, but one that symbolizes the ultimate failure of our justice system. Our opposition to capital punishment should not fluctuate depending on how executions are carried out or the supposed guilt of the individual. Instead, we must reject the system’s fundamental cruelty. Carceral punishment serves as a painful reminder that innocence does not guarantee protection, and we cannot allow the slow pace of reform to quiet our moral opposition.
As Emory students, we must go beyond public outrage and leverage our support for those left voiceless on death row today. In an interview, Dr. Zivot shared the words of a prisoner on death row in regards to student protesting of the death penalty. The anonymous inmate provided the advice that undergraduate students should “engage in policy making at all levels of government,” rather than simply stating their opposition to state sponsored execution. Students can directly advocate for people currently facing capital punishment in Georgia today by volunteering with local organizations like Georgians for Alternatives to the Death Penalty and the Georgia Innocence Project. Williams’ execution cannot become a failure we become hung up on, nor should it be simplified into a trite anti-death penalty narrative. Abolishing the death penalty may feel like an impossible goal when the rule of law refuses accountability, but a movement cannot succeed without intent.
The above editorial represents the majority opinion of The Emory Wheel’s Editorial Board. The Editorial Board is composed of Editor Marc Goedemans, Carly Aikens, Hunter Buchheit, Allie Guo, Ethan Jacobs, Carson Kindred, Justin Leach, Eliana Liporace, Niki Rajani, Josh Rosenblut, Ilka Tona and Crystal Zhang.
