Pennsylvania the unmerciful

Compared with the legislative halls of Harrisburg, the state Supreme Court chamber is relatively small. But inch for inch, it is one of the most opulent spaces in the Capitol, with gold leaf, mahogany panels, ornate chandeliers, and a magnificent stained-glass dome. Above the paneling is a series of 16 murals by Violet Oakley titled The Opening of the Book of the Law, depicting the evolution of legal and moral codes that she believed would ultimately lead to world peace.

What a fitting repository for the wisdom of Pennsylvania's founding father, William Penn, whose words adorn the Capitol rotunda: "That we may do the thing that is truly wise and just." This is the place where the Pennsylvania Board of Pardons elects to dispense its version of clemency — a palatial setting for nearly godlike acts of mercy.

The state's power to pardon goes back to Penn's original charter from the king of England, in 1681. Until 1872, governors of the commonwealth enjoyed unfettered discretion to dispense clemency. But suspicions of abuse led to the creation of the Board of Pardons in a revised state constitution, under which the governor could grant clemency only after a majority of the board recommended it.

The awesome power to pardon was restricted again in 1997, after the state's voters passed a constitutional amendment requiring a unanimous recommendation from the board before the governor could consider commutations of life or death sentences. This has reduced commutations to a trickle.

In a state where all first- and second-degree homicide convictions carry a mandatory sentence of life without the possibility of parole, the impact has been severe. Pennsylvania ranks second only to Florida in the number of men and women serving life sentences without the possibility of parole, with more than 4,300. The commonwealth also claims the world's largest concentration of such sentences for crimes committed by juveniles. About 1,000 of the state's lifers never killed anyone; rather, they were convicted as accomplices to felonies.

Pennsylvania's harsh sentencing structure evolved in a context in which clemency was possible if it was warranted. It was generally extended after an average of 17 years or so, which is close to the national average time served by those sentenced to life.

Now, however, it has become routine for the Board of Pardons to reject clemency applications by prisoners who have served 35 years, 45 years, or more; have earned endorsements from their prisons; and have developed marketable job skills and plans for life after prison.

One recent appeal for clemency came from 70-year-old William Smith, who has served 44 years for his role as an unarmed accomplice in a robbery in which the owner of a check-cashing agency was fatally shot. Smith has earned an associate's degree in business and an electrician's license in prison. He is also studying to become a minister. But he might have had a better chance of becoming pope than he did of persuading certain members of the Board of Pardons to support his plea for "early" release and let him live out the rest of his years with his brother, a retired Philadelphia police officer.

Interestingly, no one from the victim's family, the state Office of the Victim Advocate, or the prosecutor's office attended a hearing on Smith's application to argue for his continued imprisonment. Usually, at least one of those parties opposes clemency.

Smith's application was supported by three of the board's five members: a psychologist, a corrections expert, and a crime victims' representative. The attorney general, an ex officio member, was absent. The lieutenant governor, also an ex officio member, offered a resounding — though totally incomprehensible — rationale for his dissent.

It only takes one no vote to deny a commutation, and the lieutenant governor and the attorney general almost always provide one.

It's ironic that amid such lushly appointed surroundings, mercy is dispensed so stingily.

William DiMascio is the executive director of the Pennsylvania Prison Society.