Home Opinion Nothing moral about death penaltyers.

Nothing moral about death penaltyers.

By Furonda Brasfield

As a long-time death penalty abolitionist, I’ve often compared the death penalty in America to a train with no brakes: Once the machinery starts moving, it becomes extraordinarily dif­ficult to stop.

But the real problem is that the train should never have been built.

Today, Alabama, Louisiana, Mississippi, Oklahoma, and Arkansas are experimenting with nitrogen gas executions, a method officials claim is more humane. But from noose to needle to nitrogen, our constant search for a more acceptable way to kill is a story of failure — not moral progress.

There’s no acceptable way to practice a form of state kill­ing that, for Black Americans especially, has long been inter­twined with terror.

Take my home state of Arkan­sas. Within a year of becoming a state in 1836, Arkansas ad­opted laws establishing a racial hierarchy by which even civil­ian whites could dispossess or punish a Black person. These codes even designated certain offenses as capital crimes when committed by Black people but lesser crimes when committed by white people.

The message was clear: some lives were worth less than oth­ers. That message echoed through the decades that followed. Be­tween 1877 and 1950, Arkan­sas recorded 493 documented lynchings — the highest per capita rate in the nation. In Arkansas and throughout the South, these killings were not hidden crimes. They were pub­lic spectacles — acts of terror meant to reinforce social hier­archy.

Eventually, lynching became politically unacceptable. But state killing did not disappear — it simply changed form. The spectacle moved behind prison walls, and the language became more clinical. But the act of kill­ing remained the same.

George Hays, who served two terms as governor of Arkan­sas, wrote in 1927 that “if the death penalty were to be re­moved from our statute-books, the tendency to commit deeds of violence would be heightened owing to the Negro problem. The greater number of the race do not maintain the same ideals as the whites.”

Since the Civil War, Arkansas has executed nearly 500 people — and 68 percent of those ex­ecuted were Black or Native American. This is not distant history. Black inmates make up about 50 percent or more of the state’s death row today, de­spite Black Arkansans compris­ing less than 16 percent of the state’s total population.

Nor is Arkansas an outlier. Nationally, over half the people on death row today are Black or Hispanic.

Modern executions are of­ten carried out by lethal in­jection, presented as sterile and humane. The condemned is strapped to a gurney while witnesses sit behind glass and chemicals stop the heart. But as these chemicals become less available, Arkansas and some other states have replaced le­thal injection with nitrogen gas executions.

They claim the method is painless, but it is death by suf­focation. Even veterinarians are forbidden from euthanizing cats and dogs with nitrogen hypoxia because it takes too long to lose consciousness and amounts to torture.

History should make us skep­tical whenever governments begin searching for new tech­nologies to make killing appear more acceptable. During the Holocaust, Nazi Germany con­structed gas chambers designed to turn mass death into a tech­nical process. This process was bureaucratic, hidden from pub­lic view, and deemed “efficient.”

Today, the death penalty fol­lows a disturbingly similar log­ic. Each generation promises that the newest method will fi­nally make execution humane. The noose. The electric chair. The gas chamber. Lethal injec­tion. Now nitrogen gas.

Yet the fundamental act has never changed. The state still kills. The train keeps moving. Even when jurors change their minds. Even when victims’ fam­ilies plead for mercy. Stopping the train requires courage — especially from elected leaders who have the power to do it.

Our history tells us what hap­pens when a society accepts kill­ing as justice. The death pen­alty has evolved for nearly two centuries, but there is only one real measure of moral progress: not how we kill, but whether we finally choose to stop.

Furonda Brasfield is the Direc­tor of Leadership Development for the U.S. Campaign to End The Death Penalty and also leads the campaign’s Noose to Needle. She previously served as the Executive Director of the Arkansas Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty. This op-ed was distributed by Other­Words.org.

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