Stereotypes killed Robert Butts

The State of Georgia executed Robert Butts, Friday night, May 4, 2018 at 9:58 EDT. But the real killer was a lethal injection of stereotypes by prosecutors, callously upheld by the courts.  I have a long history with Robert and his co-defendant,  Marion Wilson.  Since 2005 I've testified in various hearings about the pernicious use of gang stereotypes which frightened their juries into returning a death sentence.  For Robert,  my best efforts failed.

Robert Butts

No case in my twenty three years of expert witness work has been characterized by so many inflammatory and false claims about gangs as this one.
 
   I've previously written about this case.  Prosecutors went to extreme lengths to label a robbery gone wrong as a gang-related crime.  Baldwin County Sheriff Howard Sils had testified the absurd claim that since the bullet type was "F shot" surely the"F" must have stood for Folks? Read that again. "F for Folks."  But that was not the worst gang "evidence" at the trial.

   
 District Attorney Fred Bright put Milledgeville Deputy Ricky Horn on the stand. Horn was qualified as an "expert" on gangs despite his sworn testimony that most of what he knows about gangs he learned from "TV and the movies." Horn testified to an all white jury in a town that he admitted was "very religious" that "FOLKS" stood for...wait for it....Followers of Our Lord King Satan. So Mr. Butts was a young black male gang member, convicted of murder and a devil worshipper as well.  Death qualified juries,  Fleury-Steiner finds,  can justify sentencing someone to death if they can dehumanize the defendant,  to see him as "the other," as something less than human.  Devil worshippers by any measure surely qualify as "them."

     I testified in earlier hearings that I had even consulted with Chicago Police Gang Squad officers and none of us had ever heard such ridiculous meaning for "Folks."  That term,  of course,  is the name of a now defunct coalition of Chicago gangs, the opposite of "People." As in, "your people, my folks." 

     But frightening the jury with the specter of devil worshipping black gang members in Baldwin County was only the fuse to set off a time bomb in DA Fred Bright's closing argument in Robert's trial.  The jury was told that Baldwin County was being held hostage by the "carnage" of a violent crime wave by vicious gangs.  Interviews with jurors uncovered that the jury was unaware of such a threat to their lives and the allegations of a gang crime wave was among the most decisive arguments in the jury arriving at a sentence of death. They were even sequestered, it was thought,  to protect them against gang retaliation.

No Crime wave in the 1990s
in Baldwin County

     Except the crime wave was wholly imaginary.  In previous testimony I had pointed out that the homicide rate in Baldwin County, where Milledgeville is located, actually declined in the 1990s after gangs had formed. While the nineties saw a surge in gang homicides in most large cities, Baldwin County had a 33% decrease in homicides over the previous decade. There was also no change in the number of assaults between the 1980s and 1990s. The formation of gangs was related to a decline in violence, not an increase.
   
 When we form stereotypes, or frames, unless we think about it,  we shape any new facts to fit the frame.  Thus being told of a devil-worshipping gang and a murder case,  and given unrebutted dangerous stereotypes of gangs,  the jury accepted the "fake news" that Milledgeville was in the midst of the "carnage" of a gang crime wave — despite the fact that no such crime wave existed.  Frames trump facts. Stereotypes can kill. And do. And did.

     Juries in murder cases are especially vulnerable to relying on stereotypes.  Terror Management Theory explains when we are confronted with images or evidence of our own mortality we tend to unconsciously rely on familiar folk wisdom, what Kahneman calls "thinking fast" rather than utilizing critical thought. Robert's jury was frightened to death, or rather frightened into rendering a death sentence.

   Gang allegations hover like a phantom over a jury's subconscious or in this case the Georgia Board of Pardons and Parole,  who briefly considered commuting his death sentence.  Like any demon, gang stereotypes need to be continually cast out until they are chased away.  Prosecutors are advised to always use gang allegations when available because the very mention of gangs is effective. Such evidence is "prejudicial" and "that's the point!" exclaims a prosecutors' manual.   Think about that word: "pre-judicial."  This means prosecutors rely on pre-existing stereotypes, not evidence,  to get a conviction or harsh sentence.  This is no less than a threat to basic principles of justice.  This is why I do this work. 

     I think of Donovan Parks, the innocent murdered victim in this case. I don't blame his father for saying Robert's execution was "good news."  Our criminal justice system is not about fairness, deterrence, and by no means rehabilitation. It is too often a system of revenge, of "just deserts," lashing out at those who offend the sacred standards of an imagined community.  Juries don't need to think what is right or just. They are urged by prosecutors to act on their rawest feelings. They dehumanize, or in this case, demonize the offender so they can more easily allow him to be killed. 

    I've realized the jury didn't sentence a human being, "Robert Butts," to death. They sentenced a caricature of a gang member, a dehumanized monster of the jury’s darkest nightmares. The DA could have recalled the elements of malice murder and made his case for death to the jury without recourse to any mention of gangs.  But instead he chose to visit the nether world of demonization where an offender is so unalterably evil there is literally no choice to the jury but to sentence him to death. 

    As Robert's execution date arrived May 4th I unconsciously watched the clock: 10:02am....1:47pm .....5:32pm.  Then the US Supreme Court's brief stay of execution followed immediately by a terse text that the court would not consider his case. Then 9:58pm.  I thought back over the phone conversations I had over the years with this bright, creative man,  Robert E. Butts. His deep feelings of responsibility for his family and remorse for his actions.  His playful FaceBook messages to me under a pseudonym, daring me to guess who he was. His calls to me from his "cell phone." His joy.

 

    Robert wrote this stanza in a book he published of his poems and drawings from Death Row. The poem is entitled "Tomorrow."

Never will I stop seeking you,

From this I'll never sway...

I know that we'll meet eventually,

That tomorrow will come one day...

Until it won't. Good bye Robert. Your death by stereotype made me cry... made me angry... made me shiver to my very soul.  But it also motivates me to use my experience and abilities to confront the unjust and unjustifiable uses of gang stereotypes.  I won't forget you.

Berreby, David. 2005. Us and Them: The Science of identity. Chicago: University of Chicago.

Butts, Robert E. 2013. A Portrait of My Journey: Memoirs from Death Row. Lexington, KY.

Devine, Dennis J. 2012. Jury Decision Making; The State of the Science. New York and London: New York University Press.

Fleury-Steiner, Benjamin. 2004. Jurors' stories of death : how America's death penalty invests in inequality. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press.

Greenberg, Jeff, Sheldon Solomon, Mitchell Veeder, Tom Pyszczynski, Abram Rosenblatt, Shari Kirkland, Deborah Lyon. 1990. "Evidence for Terror Management Theory II: The Effects of Mortality Salience on Reactions to Those Who Threaten or Bolster the Cultural Worldview." Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 58(2):308-18.

Jackson, Alan. 2004. "Prosecuting gang cases: What local prosecutors need to know." Alexandria, VA: American Prosecutors Research Institute.

Kahneman, Daniel. 2011. Think Fast and Slow. New York: Farrar, Strauss and Giroux.

On Murderers and Babysitters (Part Three)

There is a postscript to this story that explains why I added the word "babysitter" to the title of these blogs.

I had maintained contact with Ike along with his dedicated lawyer,  Aviva Futorian. I remember one visit at Pontiac when Ike was led out in chains to talk with us through glass. He was intensely aware of his “slave-like” status and told me he was deeply embarrassed. He didn’t want to be seen in chains and we found discussions labored and the visit didn’t last long. We did talk about my six year old son Jess.  Ike’s art gave meaning to his life and my little Jess had artistic talent.  Ike had sent Jess a picture and Jess drew one for him along with a few words that a six year old could muster to someone in such an incomprehensible situation.

Ike's letter to my son, Jess

It was at this Pontiac visit that Ike told me that he would not be able to send any more pictures to Jess since his pencils had been taken away from him as possible “weapons” and he was unable to draw with the crude colorless implements they allowed him to have.  

As someone who had killed a prison official Ike had to be constantly aware of threats to his life by correctional officers. His treatment by guards was hostile and at times cruel.  Taking away his colored pencils seemed to me mainly about breaking his spirit.

Things changed a few years later. As Ike sat on death row, Illinois Governor George Ryan became aware of the torture of black gang members by Chicago Police Commander Jon Burge. Several of these men who had been sentenced to death were exonerated by DNA evidence. Ryan ordered hearings to be held on every inmate on death row to allow testimony, mainly from victims, on whether the Governor should grant clemency.  

Two motivations drove me to show up to testify on Ike’s behalf. The nature of his trial had convinced me that some ways had to be found to counter the reign of stereotypes and demonization of gang trials.  And second, my own interactions with him had taught me Ike was not an evil monster, despite having committed evil acts. He was more than one thing and there was a depth of humanity to a man who interacted so sensitively with my son. I had found Ike was likeable and I believed he could be redeemed and rehabilitated.

I showed up at the state office building where the hearing was to be held and entered a room packed with prison guards and officials. They were lining up to testify and filled with hate. One mid level corrections bureaucrat said “Easley must be killed before he kills again.” The testimony went on for a couple of hours before the chair introduced Ike’s new appointed attorney who was visibly intimidated by the show of force by dozens of armed correctional officials. 

His comments are a good example of what passes for a legal defense in many gang trials. He was appointed to make the case for clemency.  I’ll repeat all of his comments verbatim. He said “Here is Professor Hagedorn who will say something on Ike’s behalf.”  That was it, his whole case. 

Everyone’s eyes glared at me as I took the stand. My Oppositional Defiant Disorder kicked in and I briefly summarized the unfairness of Ike’s trial. But my main argument was that this man, who was labeled a monster who had to be killed, was a human being with much good in him. I talked about his abused childhood and feelings of abandonment. I recalled his peacemaking actions in the prison. But I mainly talked about his exchanging letters and art work with my young son. Why would you kill someone who could show such feelings of empathy? Why not treat his emotional distress and let him channel his anger into art? 

There were some jeers but mostly angry stares implying “how dare you defend this monster.”  But the room was stunned when I concluded that if Ike Easley could be paroled and given another chance at life I would welcome him as a babysitter for my son.  I remember a couple of journalists running out of the room to phone in the story and a few newspapers reported my comments. The correctional officials just looked at me in disbelief. My testimony made no sense to them whatsoever. I lived in a different world than they did. Some frames never interact.

Ike only was granted clemency since Gov. Ryan commuted sentences for everyone on death row.  If you haven’t read Ryan’s remarkable clemency statement, it can be found here. If Ryan had looked at clemency case by case I’m quite sure he would have succumbed to pressures by the correctional bureaucracy and Ike would not have been spared.

It was Ike Easley’s trial and humanity that put me on the path to confront stereotypes and demonization at criminal trials.  To me justice in gang trials means two things. First jurors should decide cases and sentences on evidence not on fear and false generalizations. Second gang members are human beings.  Doing evil doesn’t mean you are evil. My empathy for the families of victims does not stop my feeling empathy for a gang member who killed. Another word for “murderer,” after all,  is “human being.”  And I know that is hard for most people to accept.