April 9


USA:

MEDICAL ETHICS----Physicians take more active roles; Hot-button issues
becoming matters of life and death


For a few weeks this spring, doctors took center stage in discussions of
public policy.

They signed a letter opposing the U.S. military's force-feeding of
prisoners in Guantanamo Bay. They refused to participate in an execution
in California, and they resisted government intervention in Oregon's
physician-assisted-suicide law.

It seemed to presage a new era of activist physicians, with doctors -
normally considered apolitical creatures - taking positions on some of the
most controversial issues of the day.

These are more partisan times, but Dr. Eugene Boisaubin, a medical
ethicist at the University of Texas Medical School at Houston, suggests
that the recent actions owe more to a coincidence of timing than to any
philosophical change.

Really, he and others say, doctors have always taken stands on public
issues.

"We've actually talked about physicians' participation in executions ...
since Hippocrates," said Dr. Priscilla Ray, a Houston psychiatrist and
chairwoman of the American Medical Association's council on ethics. The
official AMA policy, which states that any participation by doctors in an
execution is unethical, was written in the 1980s.

The AMA's 1st national code of ethics was approved in 1847. Since then,
addenda have covered topics ranging from organ transplantation to reality
TV shows.

"People have been doing plastic surgery for however long they've had
plastic surgeons, but no one put it on TV before," Ray said. "None of us
ever dreamed in the past we would have something (like that) to deal
with."

But the latest controversies go beyond what a surgeon should do during an
episode of Extreme Makeover. They are literally matters of life and death.

- More than 250 doctors from around the world signed a letter published
last month in the British medical journal Lancet condemning the Pentagon's
decision to force-feed suspected terrorists at a prison in Guantanamo Bay,
Cuba, noting that prisoners have a right to refuse treatment.

- An execution in California was indefinitely postponed in February when
two anesthesiologists refused to verify that the inmate was unconscious
before his execution, making it impossible for the state to meet a federal
court order requiring licensed medical personnel to take part.

- The U.S. Supreme Court in January denied the Bush administration's
attempt to quash Oregon's physician-assisted-suicide law, essentially
upholding the issue as a matter between patients and their doctors.

Doctors have always straddled the border between 2 worlds - the private
doctor-patient relationship and a broader role involving public health.

The 1st formal recognition of those obligations came in the 19th century,
when the original AMA code of ethics addressed such public-health issues
as sanitation, said Laurence McCullough, a professor at Baylor College of
Medicine's Center for Medical Ethics and Health Policy. "Once you think
physicians have public-health obligations, you're in the public arena," he
said.

Fast-forward a century and you find Physicians for Social Responsibility
taking a role in nuclear disarmament. The organization was founded in 1961
to fight above-ground nuclear testing, documenting the presence of
strontium 90, a deadly chemical produced as a byproduct of atomic testing,
in children's teeth.

It has since broadened its mission to address environmental health and
violence.

Nukes, guns and belching smokestacks can certainly be seen as political
issues, but Ray said that the bottom line remains providing care for
patients.

Boisaubin agreed, but he said that relationship has been under pressure.

That has taken many forms: managed care and its perceived interference
with a doctor's autonomy, laws restricting abortion and even military
actions.

Medical journals recently have carried articles about the juxtaposition of
ethics and politics, including the Abu Ghraib prison torture, Boisaubin
said, an acknowledgment that physicians live in a political world.

American physicians have a long and complicated relationship with the
penal system. Boisaubin dealt with one of the prickly issues in a 2004
article he co-authored for the Journal of Correctional Health Care that
recounted the case of a Texas inmate resuscitated from a drug overdose,
only to be immediately executed.

Standards issued by the American Medical Association and other health-care
organizations, including the American Nurses Association, consistently
prohibit physicians or nurses from directly or indirectly participating in
capital punishment, the journal article noted.

The decision by the California physicians not to participate in the
execution of Michael Morales, convicted of torturing, raping and killing a
teenage girl 25 years ago, effectively forced a moratorium on capital
punishment in California, which has 650 inmates on death row.

But it came as no surprise to ethicists.

"A physician should never accept the state's judgment that a life is not
worth living," McCullough said. "That's a judgment for a patient to make.
You might decide your life is not worth living ... but the state should
not do so."

When a patient makes that decision, it becomes another hot-button issue.

The Supreme Court protected Oregon's physician-assisted-suicide law in
January when it ruled against the Bush administration argument that
doctors who help terminally ill patients die should lose their drug
licenses. The justices agreed with two lower courts that federal drug laws
are aimed at drug abuse and trafficking, not to usurp the states' role in
regulating doctors.

The Oregon law was approved in 1997, but it has been used only sparingly.

McCullough noted that 45-50 prescriptions are written each year for a
fatal dose of drugs, and not all of them are filled. "Anecdotally, it's
reported that the sense of control patients gain (from the possibility)
helps them deal with their dying process."

Medical schools now focus more on ethics and the issues doctors will face,
Boisaubin said, but the the essential principles remain unchanged.

"There is a common belief that, as biotechnology advances, we face new and
unprecedented issues," McCullough said. He and others disagree.

"I think the primary issue, which is doing what's best for the patient, is
going to be the same," Ray said. "It's going to have different appearances
at times, because it's going to be in a different setting, but the same
ethical precept is there."

(source: Houston Chronicle)

********************

Guilty conscience


For 18 years the Unabomber terrorised America and escaped the clutches of
the FBI. Then a middle-aged youth counsellor realised his brother was the
man they were looking for. 10 years on, he recalls the painful decision to
turn in his own flesh and blood.

There are few similarities between Ted Kaczynski, the American serial
killer known as the Unabomber, and his younger brother, David, who turned
him in to the FBI.

But on the day of Ted's arrest in April 1996, both felt betrayed. Despite
assurances from the FBI that his role would be kept confidential, it was
widely reported that David Kaczynski had stumbled across some old
correspondence from his brother and noticed "striking similarities" to a
35,000-word, anti-technology manifesto written by the Unabomber and
published by The Washington Post seven months earlier. After comparing the
documents, David took his suspicions to a lawyer, who contacted the FBI.

His actions brought to an end his brother's 18-year campaign of terror,
during which airlines, universities and computer stores across America
were bombed, resulting in the deaths of 3 people and leaving a further 23
disabled or scarred for life.

The media focused on the chance discovery of the letters and the dilemma
David Kaczynski, "a tree-loving Buddhist" according to one report, faced
in turning in his brother. "He was torn, as anyone would be, between doing
what is right and loyalty to his brother," said one FBI agent.

Neighbours and former colleagues spoke of him as a "quiet man," well read
and shy. David Kaczynski himself remained resolutely silent. He barricaded
himself in his house with his wife and mother. He was unwilling to talk to
the press, afraid of their reaction; unwilling to make his mother endure
any more pain than she was already experiencing. He felt burnt, betrayed
and was bearing the burden of knowing that at the very least he had
sentenced his only brother to life imprisonment, possibly to death.

"What made the decision so appalling was that it could have led to
somebody dying whatever I chose," David says today, near his home in
upstate New York.

The press was right that it was a hard decision for David, who initially
believed there was no more than a "1-in-30,000 chance" that his reclusive
brother was the Unabomber. But much of what was reported, for example
about David being a Buddhist, and the sequence of events that led up to
him contacting the FBI, was untrue.

"There were times when they said they were going for the death penalty
that I had such deep regrets," David says. "Not regrets that I had turned
him in, but that it had all happened. There just seemed to be so much pain
going around."

It is 10 years this month since Ted was captured, but it is still an event
that David thinks about every day. Now a full-time anti-death-penalty
campaigner, he lives with his wife, Linda Patrik, a philosophy professor,
outside Albany, New York. He is a tall, gentle man who never expected or
sought the infamy that being the brother of a serial killer has brought.

Being the one who turned his brother in has only added to his anguish. He
never expected the public to be sympathetic. "I really thought people
wouldn't understand," he says. "I was the only person Ted said he had ever
loved, and what a nightmare to be turned in by the one person he thought
he had a loving relationship with."

As David's suspicions that his brother was the Unabomber grew, he says he
found himself questioning whether or not he should have been able to see
it coming. "I remember struggling with the awful dilemma of 'Do I turn my
brother in?' and asking myself if I had grown up with someone who was
evil," he says. "I didn't think so. But I had a feeling, looking back,
that if I'd only known how unhappy he was, how desperate he was, then I
would have been a better brother."

David and Ted Kaczynski were born in Chicago in 1949 and 1942,
respectively. Their parents, Theodore and Wanda, were Polish immigrants
and staunch liberals who attempted to instil moral rather than religious
values in their sons. "We lived in a community called the Village of
Churches, but my parents weren't religious," he recalls. "I was taken to
the Ethical Society as a child, an alternative to church. The idea was to
talk about what it was to be a good person. I don't remember Ted going to
that." David says Ted was always a bit different. "He had few, if any,
friends," he recalls. "One of the few times he would go out socially would
be to see me play baseball." But David doesn't remember him ever being
violent. "I always thought he was incapable of hurting anyone."

While Ted's social skills may have been questionable, his intelligence was
not. He excelled at school, and at 16 was accepted into Harvard to study
mathematics. He received his PhD in the subject from another university
and then, in 1967, started teaching at the University of California,
Berkeley (to which he later sent 2 bombs). He resigned in 1969, and soon
went to live with his brother, who, after graduating with an English
degree from Columbia University, had moved to Montana.

Together they purchased the plot of land where Ted built the shack that he
would later transform into a bomb-making facility and where, over 20 years
later, he would be arrested. "Ted wanted to see if he could sustain
himself purely in the wilderness," says David. "He had begun to develop
his thesis about technology. He had a suspicion that technology was this
monster and it was growing beyond human control. He would say he wanted to
get away from technology, but my feeling was he was unhappy, running from
things he couldn't handle." David believes his brother was mentally ill
(he has since been diagnosed as suffering from paranoid schizophrenia) and
that the condition was getting worse. "The 1st time I thought there was
something wrong with him was when he wrote this awful letter to our
parents saying, 'I've been unhappy all my life. I've been miserable and
I've finally worked out why - you never loved me.' He told me not to
defend our parents or he would cut me out of his life as well."

David left Montana and moved to Iowa, Chicago and then Texas. Ted stayed
in the wilderness and several years later inexplicably began his campaign
of violence - sending 12 parcel bombs between 1978 and 1987, causing one
fatality. During this period, David recalls going to visit his brother one
summer. "We spent some time backpacking and I suggested he come and spend
the winter with me," David says. "Before I left he said he had decided not
to because he had too much to do. I thought it was an excuse, but
obviously I had no idea what he meant." The next morning they said
goodbye.

"I remember almost impulsively hugging him, and it wasn't something we did
often. He endured it - I never realised it was probably the last time I
would ever have contact with him in my life."

David, unaware his brother was now a murderer, headed or his own rural
retreat in Texas. For seven years he spent most of his time, like his
brother, living off the land. But he returned to the family home each
summer and drove buses to earn money. He also saw Linda Patrik, his
childhood sweetheart and the only woman he had ever loved. They had met in
school when they were 11 and had kept in contact.

After returning to Texas in 1989, David wrote to her, confessing his love.
"It provoked a tremendous response from Linda, so we planned that I would
come for a visit, and I never left," he says. He wrote to Ted to tell him
they were getting married and inviting him to the wedding. The letter
brought an angry and troubling response. "He tried to convince me that
this woman he'd never met was somehow an exploitative woman who didn't
really love me."

A few months later, Ted and David's father, who had terminal cancer, ended
his life. Although Ted had not spoken to his parents in a few years, David
wrote to him informing him of his father's suicide. Ted replied that he
did not want to come to the funeral.

Contact between Ted and his brother nearly dried up completely after that.
David and Linda settled into a routine life: she taught philosophy at a
local college while he started work as a counsellor at a youth shelter.
Ted continued to send parcel bombs, killing a further 2 people in the 2
years before he was arrested.

The FBI's search for America's most wanted man was proving fruitless. As
late as November 1995, an FBI agent was quoted as saying: "The bottom line
is we don't have a suspect."

However, 3 months earlier, while on holiday in Paris with her mother,
Linda read an article that contained some previously unreleased
information about the Unabomber. Reading it, she had a feeling it could be
her husband's brother. Speaking for the 1st time since Ted was sentenced,
she says: "I remember becoming aware of the threats of the Unabomber in
June that year. But in this article there was more information about the
cities he had bombed, his writing style and technological fears. It
sounded as if it could be Ted."

Although she had never met Ted, Linda explains that David and his mother
would talk about him incessantly. "After David's father died, we spent a
lot of time with his mother," she says. "They would spend hours analysing
Ted, why he wouldn't talk to them, why he wouldn't let them visit, so I
had heard a lot about him and his ideas."

Linda pieced together information that the Unabomber had ties to the
Chicago area, was against the expansion of technology, and had sent bombs
to the University of California, Berkeley (where Ted had taught). When
David arrived to join his wife on holiday, she was desperate to share her
alarming suspicions. "I was really, really frightened by this
possibility," she says, as she starts to cry. "I just couldn't shake it
from my mind. I needed to talk this over with David." She expected her
husband to be taken aback. "I knew he would be surprised," she says. "But
we've known one another so long that I knew he would be willing to listen
and that if this was a possibility we would do something about it." David,
who had paid no attention to the Unabomber case, was shocked. "I thought
that all I was dealing with was a wife with an overactive imagination. I
didnt think it was credible at all." That feeling changed when a month
later the Unabombers 35,000-word manifesto was published. "I thought I
would be able to tell Linda that Ted hadnt written it, that we could lay
this to rest," says David, "but that changed reading it. She asked me what
I thought. I said if I had to estimate, there was now maybe 1 chance in
1,000 that Ted had written it." He admits he may not have been being
honest. "Maybe I couldn't be all that objective about him."

Nevertheless, he continued to research the Unabomber story. "I started
looking at dates to try and rule Ted out, but I couldn't find anything
like that. I did, however, think the sketch of the Unabomber didn't look
like Ted and a witness description didn't match him. There was also no
connection between Ted and his victims, as far as I could see. I remember
going home and telling Linda what I thought was good news, but I also
mentioned that he was connected to all of the three places that bombs had
been mailed from." Still uncertain and lacking any prima-facie evidence,
they decided to reread Ted's old letters and compare them to the
manifesto. "We never found anything conclusive but the process made me
feel more concerned. By the end, I could hear my brother's voice in the
manifesto."

David now believed there was a "50/50 chance" Ted was the Unabomber. He
faced a dilemma: what to do that didnt result in anyone dying? At first he
thought of visiting Ted, but Linda was afraid Ted might hurt or kill him.
"So I wrote to him," David says. "I wrote the most loving letter I could,
and said I was sad about the estrangement and could I come visit? Ted
wrote back and it was a pretty devastating letter. He said he didn't
consider me his brother and that he didn't want anything to do with me now
or ever. My feeling was he had gone over the edge."

The process was affecting David deeply. "It felt like part of my world was
falling apart. I had always believed that brothers should love and protect
each other and I knew Ted was struggling. It was tearing me apart. It felt
like Ted's dark vision of the world was becoming my vision too. But my
bigger worries were: was it or wasn't it Ted, and how would it impact
Mom?"

He and Linda decided to contact an old friend of Linda's called Susan
Swanson, a private detective. They asked her to obtain a writing analysis
comparing Teds letters to the manifesto. The report concluded there was a
"60%" probability that one person had written them all.

"Linda and I had decided that if there was a significant possibility, we
would go forward," David says. "We couldn't live with ourselves if we
opened the paper and read that someone else had died because we didnt
act." Thinking back on the decision to allow his attorney to contact the
FBI, he says: "I still can't describe how I made the decision. So many
things go into it: is the system fair? What will it do to the family? Will
he be framed? Ultimately it was a sense of responsibility that made us
act. We had to take some steps to stop the violence."

But David still hadn't told his 78-year-old mother. "I still thought there
was a 25% chance it wasn't Ted," says David. "Then I got the call I had
been dreading. The FBI said they had tried everything possible to
exonerate Ted but, on the contrary, he had moved to the top of their
suspect list and they needed to speak to Mom."

Telling her was one of the hardest things he has ever done. "I didn't know
how much she knew about the Unabomber case, and I didn't know if she would
still love me after I told her what I had done," he says. He paced round
the room as his mother sat listening. He explained about the Unabomber and
the bombs; about the places Ted had visited and the places that had been
bombed. He then told her he believed Ted was the Unabomber and he had told
this to the FBI. His mother was silent and then slowly stood up and walked
over to him. With tears in his eyes, David says: "She kissed me and said,
'I can't imagine what you've been going through. I know you love Ted and I
know you wouldn't have done this unless you thought you had to.'"

Less than a month later, Ted Kaczynski was arrested. David and his mother
learnt of the arrest only when they turned on the evening news. "There
were a number of broken promises," says David. "The FBI said they would
give us some notice, but they didn't. They said we would be treated as
confidential informants and that nobody would know, so it was shocking to
see Ted on television and hear [the news presenter] Dan Rather saying he
was turned in by his own brother. I had wanted him to hear it from my lips
and in my words rather than from some stranger."

David asked to visit his brother in jail before his trial began. "His
lawyers said he was adamant he didn't want to see me," he reveals. He gave
Ted's attorneys everything they asked for, including all of Ted's letters
and over 20,000 pages of diaries.

Reading Ted's private thoughts, David says he could see that "every day of
his life was a day of despair and pain. It was as if he was in a nightmare
you never wake up from."

But David also felt as if he was living a nightmare. "I remember flying
back from California after meeting with lawyers and after the government
had said they were seeking the death penalty, and thinking that if the
plane crashed it wouldn't bother me at all. It wasn't like I was suicidal,
but life was bleak. I just thought it wouldn't make a difference if I died
today."

At the trial, Ted never once looked at his brother or his mother, despite
being seated less than 3 feet from them. "He would never make eye contact
or show any recognition that we were even there," David says.

"With 1 step I could have reached out and touched him."

After being declared fit to stand trial, Ted initially pleaded not guilty.
He eventually accepted a plea bargain that, in return for pleading guilty,
would see him sentenced to life imprisonment rather than face execution.
"He accepted it not to save his life," says David, "but because he said he
couldn't endure a public trial in which he would be described, in his
words, as 'a lunatic'." He was sent to a maximum-security prison in
Colorado while David, his wife and his mother returned to New York.

David was awarded the $1m reward, but after paying taxes and his attorney,
who had acted as a conduit between David and the FBI, gave the remaining
$680,000 to the victims' families. "For us to have accepted the money
would have totally confused what we had done," he says.

"I wanted to reconcile on some level with the people who had been hurt.
That was very important to me."

David has become friends with one of those who were injured, a former
computer-store employee, Gary Wright. Wright, who spoke at Ted's
sentencing and told the serial killer that he forgave him, says: "David is
an extraordinary man. I think the really hard part for him was coming to
grips with the fact that his brother could be a murderer. He seemed to
feel tremendous relief when he realised Ted wouldn't die."

Apart from being unable to tell Ted face to face that he was the one who
turned him in, David says he has no regrets. "People have suggested I felt
guilty about turning him in," he says. "I felt terrible but I didnt feel
guilty that I had done something wrong. I think: thank God Linda
suspected; thank God she forced me to take it seriously; thank God we did
what we did, otherwise others would probably have been hurt and killed. So
thank God we turned him in, but thank God he didn't get executed." Angered
that the government wanted to execute his mentally ill brother, David
started to speak out against capital punishment.

5 years ago he became the executive director of the charitable
organisation New Yorkers Against the Death Penalty. After New York's Court
of Appeals ruled in 2004 that the death penalty was unconstitutional,
there were calls in the State Assembly for a "quick fix." David helped
drown them out. "The assembly held hearings where I testified," he says.

"We presented a broad coalition of witnesses representing diverse points
of view, but all agreeing that the death penalty as applied was a failed
experiment, riddled with error and unfairness. As DNA testing has evolved,
it's been shown that there have been 121 wrongful convictions in capital
cases across the US."

David is glad that "some good did come from an awful experience." Yet he
still believes he may have been able to alter the course of history if he
had realised how ill Ted was. "There is a learning curve when you are
dealing with someone elses illness," he says. "Looking back, I realise
there are so many things that don't fit together unless you recognise Ted
was desperately ill. If I knew then what I know now, I would have worked
harder at trying to get him help." It has taken years, but the pain for
the Kaczynski family has finally begun to dull. Linda has tried to put the
episode behind her by seldom talking about it, while David uses it to urge
the nation his brother terrorised to stop seeking an eye for an eye. The
couple remain happily married and closer than ever. David's mother now
lives only a short distance away and they visit often. Yet there is no
doubt that the family has paid a heavy price.

"I still write to Ted 3 or 4 times a year and Mom writes every month,"
David says. "But we have never had a reply."

(source: Sunday Times (UK) )

*************************

U.S. must reconnect with world


I recently had the opportunity to travel to Wales and England on a high
school trip. One thing I learned in my short time abroad is that England
and Wales view themselves as part of an international community.

It seems that the United States does not see itself in that light.

There is an alarming trend in this country, a growing belief that we're
the only nation in the world that matters.

We call ourselves the greatest country in the world, and we may very well
be, but if we isolate ourselves from the rest of the world, we will not be
important for much longer.

In the recent past, we have begun to distance ourselves from international
agreements such as the Kyoto Protocol and the International Criminal
Court.

The U.S. is one of the only "civilized" countries that still consider
capital punishment an acceptable way to deal with criminals.

The world is becoming smaller; globalization is happening. We see evidence
of this with the outsourcing of American jobs and with the growth of the
European Union.

The United States cannot stop globalization from occurring. We can either
be passive and the world will shape itself, or we can be an active
presence in shaping the future of our planet.

The only way to do that is to engage with countries around the world, even
those countries that are opposed to us on every issue.

National sovereignty is important, and we should never allow another
country to dictate our foreign or domestic policies, but at the same time,
we shouldn't allow ourselves to become a country whose borders are closed
to new people and new ideas.

America is at its best when we're engaged in the world. During and after
World War II, the United States was the greatest force for peace and
righteousness anywhere on the planet.

The only way to lead is by setting a positive example for others to
follow. We can't do that by isolating ourselves.

We shouldn't continue with a policy of unilateral action against other
countries. It's possible for us to fight and win a war without any support
from the rest of the world, but just because we can do so doesn't mean
that we should.

We need to be responsible with the power that we have, and responsible
leadership depends upon active engagement with the rest of the world.

First and foremost, I'm an American. But as well as being Americans, the
men and women of my generation will be citizens of a much wider world.

This is something to which no previous generation has had to adjust to in
the same way. It will be difficult and will take a national effort to
navigate a truly interconnected world.

I hope that, as I grow older, my United States will again be a force for
peace. We need to be a shepherd for the world. We should be setting an
example by how we protect the environment, treat criminals and defend our
citizens.

Now, more than at any other point in the history of our country, we can't
isolate ourselves from the world.

We have to step forward and shape the future, because if we don't, we
might not like how the world shapes itself.

(source: Appleton Post-Crescent (Wisconsin) -- Owen Truesdell is an
Appleton resident and junior at Appleton West High School)






NEW MEXICO:

Ruling Limits Death Penalty

There was no disputing the crime was awful: an elderly couple attacked in
the Hobbs home where they also ran a gem store, the husband stabbed to
death and his wife stabbed and beaten savagely and left tied to a chair.

The accused called it a "robbery gone bad." But was it a death-penalty
case? When prosecutors charged Manuel Martinez, 41, with 2 counts of
1st-degree murder, they decided to seek capital punishment. They argued
that Ervin and Julia Tafoya, both in their 80s, were killed because they
were witnesses to the burglary of their store and that Julia Tafoya was
mortally wounded while she was bound to her chair, which constitutes
kidnapping under the law.

Nearly 4 years have passed since the killings and Martinez has yet to go
to trial.

When he does, the New Mexico Supreme Court has said he can face the death
penalty if convicted of killing Julia Tafoya in the commission of her
kidnapping. But the court said he can't face death for the killing of
witnesses because prosecutors did not show the Tafoyas were killed to keep
them from reporting the break-in.

The reason? Reversing a long-held precedent, the state high court said it
isn't enough to speculate that the motive for killing witnesses is to
prevent them from reporting the crime. Without some evidence of a motive,
the court said, the murder of a witness cannot be used as a so-called
aggravator that pushes a murder into the death-penalty zone.

'Favorite of prosecutors'

The decision further narrows the circumstances under which defendants in
New Mexico can face a death sentence.

This has been welcomed by criminal defense lawyers. It is cause for
concern among prosecutors.

Jeffrey Buckels, chief of the New Mexico Public Defender's capital crimes
unit, said the ruling will reduce the number of possible death penalty
cases.

"That murder-of-a-witness aggravator is a very frequent favorite of
prosecutors," Buckels said. "When someone has been killed and there is no
evidence of motive, they say, what other explanation can there be?"
Assistant Attorney General Victoria Wilson, who represented the state in
the appeal, said the court was clear that it will require more than
speculation for the murder of a witness to be used to support the death
penalty.

"It's going to be very, very difficult (now) to have murder of a witness
as an aggravator," Wilson said. "I think you're going to need something as
strong as a statement by the defendant that that is why he did it."

The Supreme Court decision, written by Chief Justice Richard Bosson and
filed earlier this year, says speculation isn't enough.

Bosson noted that the majority of murder cases involve efforts to destroy
evidence or conceal the crime and the killing of someone who is a
potential witness.

"The key," Bosson wrote, "is to determine from the record whether there is
a direct link from the circumstantial evidence that makes it reasonably
probable, not just possible, that the defendant's motive was to silence a
witness."

The decision was the topic of discussion at a district attorneys meeting
in Albuquerque last week, according to Brian Stover, the deputy district
attorney in Lovington, who is bringing Martinez to trial.

"In those kinds of cases, you do not have that aggravator anymore and the
most severe penalty is no longer available," Stover said. "It certainly
narrows it."

The Supreme Court concluded Julia Tafoya was stabbed, bound to a chair
with her husband's suspenders and beaten severely, wounds that she died
from 2 days later at a Lubbock hospital - evidence to support the charge
that she was intentionally murdered during kidnapping.

The death penalty certification appeal went straight to the Supreme Court,
which has now sent the matter back to state District Judge William McBee
in Lovington for trial. Stover said Martinez's trial date has not been set
and won't be until the judge has decided whether to allow Martinez to be
tried separately for Ervin and Julia Tafoya's deaths.

'Compelling evidence'

According to the Supreme Court decision, some New Mexico death penalty
cases involving eliminating a witness have been clear.

Timothy Allen, sentenced to death in 1995 for the rape and murder of a San
Juan County teenager, told his wife he killed the girl to prevent her from
reporting the rape. Allen is one of two men awaiting execution in New
Mexico.

Terry Clark, executed in 2001, said he killed his kidnapped 9-year-old
victim because she said she would tell on him. In other cases, courts have
relied on a lack of any other plausible explanation to allow the death
penalty.

The precedent for that - a New Mexico Supreme Court opinion in a case
involving a rape and murder of an elderly woman in Albuquerque in 1986 -
was overturned in the Martinez opinion.

The earlier opinion concluded that the lack of another plausible motive
for killing the rape victim and the defendant's attempts to destroy
evidence were sufficient evidence to support that the murder was committed
to silence the witness.

Bosson, with Justices Pamela Minzner, Patricio Serna, Petra Maes and
Edward Chavez signing on, said that was not what lawmakers had in mind
when they wrote the parameters for capital punishment in New Mexico.

"Consistent with the Constitution and our legislative mandate," Bosson
wrote, "death penalty eligibility requires more in the way of compelling
evidence that, as a matter of probabilities, the killing was specifically
for the purpose of silencing a witness."

While only 2 men are awaiting death in the New Mexico Department of
Corrections, a half dozen or so death penalty cases are in the court
system at any given time, Wilson said.

(source: Albuquerque Journal)






WASHINGTON (state):

State's high court takes proper path on death penalty


Though the decision produced an interesting split, the state Supreme Court
has charted a proper course of action for handling capital punishment
cases by upholding the death penalty for a man who fatally stabbed his
wife and her two daughters.

The 5-4 ruling involved what was thought by many to be a test case for
capital punishment itself. The ruling shows the fallacy of such reasoning.

Dayva Cross contended that he should not be executed while Gary Ridgway
was sentenced to life in prison with no possibility of parole. Ridgway is
the infamous "Green River killer" who pleaded guilty to 48 counts of
murder and was sentenced in 2004 to life in prison as part of a deal that
helped prosecutors close the book on several previously unsolved murders.

We don't see the connection, although both opponents and proponents of
capital punishment saw the Ridgway plea bargain as shackling future
attempts to get jury approval of death for those committing heinous
crimes.

It's true that it's difficult to ignore confusion prompted by different
sentences for seemingly similar crimes. But an important consideration
here is that Ridgway was the special case of all special cases, one that
cried out for judicial discretion in dealing with it.

Writing for the majority, Justice Tom Chambers, a Wapato native, said
Ridgway's plea deal came in an extraordinary case and that his cooperation
"resolved the tragedy of many unsolved deaths and disappearances that
probably would have otherwise remained unsolved forever."

"Ridgway's abhorrent killings, standing alone, do not render the death
penalty unconstitutional or disproportionate. Our law is not so fragile,"
the majority wrote.

The dissenters, on the other hand, argued that the case shows that the
death penalty can be meted out in an "arbitrary" manner.

We can't buy into that argument. What they see as arbitrary, we think is
more properly termed discretionary application of the ultimate penalty if
there are extraordinary circumstances that must be considered. The Green
River killings certainly met that standard.

The Ridgway case allowed a competent prosecutor - King County Prosecutor
Norm Maling - to craft a deal that brought closure to not only the
unsolved murders, but the families of victims as well. We didn't
particularly like the disposition either, but can't argue with the
results.

Concurring with Chambers were Chief Justice Gerry Alexander and justices
Bobbe Bridge and Mary Fairhurst and former Justice Faith Ireland.

Ireland was involved in the ruling because she was on the court when it
originally was argued in 2004. Ireland has since retired and her seat was
filled by Justice James Johnson, who did not participate in the ruling.

Joining Justice Charles Johnson in dissent were justices Barbara Madsen,
Susan Owens and Richard Sanders.

Court watchers might find it difficult to find a liberal/conservative
split on capital punishment in that makeup.

But the death penalty wasn't the issue anyway; rather it was whether it
can be meted out with some discretion.

Capital punishment is one of the least desirable things we do as a
society, but the fact remains it is part of our system of law and justice
as the ultimate penalty for heinous crimes. Certainly it should be
administered with great care and caution and given the advances in
technology, such as DNA testing, there are much greater assurances
executions will not involve innocent people.

It's one thing to have problems philosophically with capital punishment,
but if we're going to have it, then let's do it properly and judiciously -
with discretion where needed.

This nation has the best law and justice system in the world, but no
system is perfect. That's another reason for discretion, and in this case
we go along with the court majority that it was properly applied.

(source: Members of the Yakima Herald-Republic editorial board are Michael
Shepard, Sarah Jenkins and Bill Lee)

*******************

Capital injustice----Death penalty system is so fractured it's unworkable

I believe in a tooth for a tooth, an eye for an eye and a life for a life.

I believe that the brutal murderer of Mark McKenzie, Brenda Groene and her
sons, Slade and Dylan, should die for his crimes. In fact, this might be
one villain that I could execute myself.

The enormity of this man's crimes screams for the death penalty.

Yet I advocated in an editorial on these pages that Kootenai County
Prosecutor Bill Douglas should accept a plea bargain that would preserve
the life of Groene family murder suspect Joseph Edward Duncan III, if
found guilty. Why? Because the capital punishment system is broken. The
death blow is meted out haphazardly to killers, many years after their
crimes, if at all. One is injected. Another slips through a legal crack.
Charles Manson remains alive despite the "Helter Skelter" murders because
he was fortunate enough to be on death row when capital punishment was
banned for a decade.

I believe in the death penalty for premeditated, first-degree murder.
However, I don't believe in our current legal system when it comes to
handling these cases. Anti-capital punishment attorneys have become so
adept at appealing death penalty cases that executions have become cost
prohibitive. A county faces a higher price tag to prosecute and defend a
death sentence on appeal than it does to ship a killer to prison for life.

It would still be worth the million bucks or so to see the Groene family
killer prosecuted and sentenced to die, if:

- Anyone could guarantee that he would be put to death in a decade.

- It would bring peace to the Groene family.

- Kidnap survivor Shasta Groene would be spared from living under his
shadow for the rest of her life.

No one can look into a crystal ball today and say whether these things
would occur - or whether the death penalty will exist in this country in a
decade.

Idaho has put only one murderer to death since the U.S. Supreme Court
reinstated the death penalty.

In Washington state, the death penalty is hanging by a thread after the
Supreme Court ruled 5-4 that a triple-murderer can't escape death row
simply because the Green River Killer had done so. Dayva Cross, 46, didn't
think it was fair that he should be executed for three murders when Gary
Ridgway killed dozens and then plea-bargained his way to a life sentence.
The proportionality defense swayed Justice Charles Johnson, who wrote in
the minority opinion that the sentences handed to Ridgway and other mass
killers "reveals a staggering flaw in the system of administration of the
death penalty in Washington."

Elsewhere, state and court officials fret that lackluster defense has
landed innocent people on death row.

I'd love to see the Groene family killer dispatched in the same way that
he murdered, tied up with a hammer blow to the head. I'd love to see this
pathological monster suffer as the Groenes have. But the legal system that
has protected him for so long has fractured to the point that it's
ineffective, for punishment or justice. The best society can hope for is
that the burden of life without possibility of parole shortens his
miserable life.

Then, God help him when he meets his maker without a hand-wringing
advocate at his side.

(source: D.F. Oliveria, The Spokesman Review)






WYOMING:

Death penalty not sought in slaying


In Casper, prosecutors say they will not seek the death penalty against a
man accused of fatally shooting a taxi driver.

Keith J. Booth, 18, pleaded not guilty in March to murder and aggravated
robbery.

Booth is accused of shooting Gregory Clarkson, 25, in the chest. Clarkson
was found dead in his cab Aug. 18, and Booth was arrested the next day.

Natrona County District Attorney Michael Blonigen said he was not seeking
the death penalty in part because of Booth's age. Wyoming does not allow
the death penalty for anyone under 18; Booth turned 18 on July 5.

(source: Billings (Mont.) Gazette)




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