Posted: Feb. 10, 2010
Granholm makes sensible
case for prisoner
clemency
One of the advantages of being a lame-duck
governor is being able to pursue sound public
policy even when it is politically unpopular. Gov.
Jennifer Granholm's sensible record of releasing
ailing and elderly prisoners whose cost of
incarceration outweighs any continuing threat to
public safety is a case in point.
Granholm has commuted the sentences of 124
prisoners in her seven-year-tenure, the great
majority since she was re-elected to her current
and final term in 2006. Among those whose
sentences have been commuted are 38 convicted
murderers, and their release has understandably
angered many survivors who assumed their loved
ones' killers would serve out their full sentences
and maybe die behind bars.
The wishes of murder victims' families are no
trifling matter. Neither is public safety.
But neither is the cost of a still-bloated prison
population. In Michigan, where the resources
available for any governmental purpose diminish
with every passing month, the governor and the
Legislature must assure those limited funds are
allocated in a way that most effectively promotes
public safety -- all things considered.
Every tax dollar spent on incarceration is a dollar
unavailable for police protection, preschool
education, drug and alcohol courts, and other
programs that have been proved to reduce violent
crime. Criminals who represent a continuing
threat to the public must be kept behind bars.
But a state that increasingly lacks the
wherewithal to support even basic law
enforcement functions simply cannot afford to
incarcerate those who no longer pose a threat.
Michigan's incarceration rate far exceeds that of
its neighboring states. Granholm's measured
exercise of her commutation power -- she has
released fewer prisoners, as a percentage of the
state's incarcerated population, than former Gov.
William Milliken -- is consistent with her long-
term campaign to reduce prison costs, which
now exceed state outlays for higher education.
Granholm says any cost savings of
commutations are a byproduct of a thorough
review process that puts public safety first,
before she makes a decision. That's as it should
be.
The murderers whose sentences Granholm has
commuted averaged 63 years of age and had
spent an average of 36 years in prison when they
were released. All those released have been vetted
by a Clemency Board that gets input from the
Corrections Department, prosecutors, sentencing
judges and victims' families before making
decisions. Commutations are always a calculated
risk, and prosecutors -- whose job it is to put
prisoners behind bars in the first place -- often
disagree with the decisions.
It's in the public's interest to make sure that
every affected party has ample opportunity to be
heard, and the Clemency Board should
investigate Wayne County Prosecutor Kym
Worthy's claims that in four instances her office
was denied the chance to discuss clemency
petitions Worthy opposed.
Clemency is also risky politically, and Granholm
has shown more moxie over this issue than many
of her critics -- especially state legislators,
who've conspicuously failed to confront the
over-incarceration crisis themselves. If
lawmakers wish to exert more control over who
qualifies for release, they can begin by adopting
overdue reforms that give sentencing judges and
parole boards more discretion to determine when
the objectives of incarceration have been
achieved.
In the meantime, the evidence so far supports
Granholm's assertion that her commutation
decisions have been consistent with both public
safety and common sense.
