Crime: Its Cause and Treatment

by Clarence Darrow

Very few persons seriously believe that offenders are sent to prison out of kindness to the men. If there were any foundation for this idea, each prisoner would be carefully observed, and when he was fit would be returned to the world. Not even the parole laws, which provide various reasons and ways for shortening sentences, ever lay down the rule that one may be released when he has reformed.

A much larger class of people offers the excuse that punishment deters from crime. In fact, this idea is so well rooted that few think of questioning it. The idea that punishment deters from crime does not mean that the individual prisoner is prevented from another criminal act. A convicted man is kept in jail for as long a time as in the judgment of the jury, the court, or the parole board, will make him atone, or at least suffer sufficiently for the offence. If the terms are not long enough, they can be made longer. The idea that punishment deters, means that unless A shall be punished for murder, then B will kill; therefore A must be punished, not for his own sake, but to keep B from crime. This is vicarious punishment which can hardly appeal to one who is either just or humane. But does punishing A keep B from the commission of crime? It certainly does not make a more social man of B. If it operates on him in any way it is to make him afraid to commit crime; but the direct result of scaring B is not to keep him from the commission of crime, but to make him use precautions that will keep him safe from discovery. How far the fear of detection and punishment prevents crime is, of course, purely theoretical and cannot be settled either by statistics or logic. One thing is sure, that if B is kept from crime, it is through fear, and of all the enemies of man, fear is the one which causes most misery and pain.

There are many facts that show that the punishment of one does not deter others. Over and over again crimes are committed, by the young especially, that resemble in every detail a previous crime which has received large publicity through the newspapers, often through the hanging of some culprit. Even the unthinking public, always clamoring for severe penalties, does not believe that the example of punishment deters. The public forbids the exhibition of pictures of hangings and of crimes. Somehow, vaguely and dimly as most men see everything, the public realizes that instead of punishments preventing crime, punishments suggest crime. In the olden days when men admitted that vengeance and punishment went together, they were at least more logical, for executions were in the open light of day so all might see and be deterred.

But this sort of punishment was abolished long ago. Now executions are behind tightly-closed doors, often before day-break, with no one present but a doctor to pronounce the victim dead, a preacher to try to save his soul, and a few favored guests. The most humane individuals advocate suppressing the stories in the newspapers, beyond an obituary notice for the deceased, and forbidding the publication of the details of the crime and its penalty. So far as this succeeds, it is a confession that punishment does not deter, but instead suggests and encourages crime. The idea that crime is prevented by punishment, if believed, would be followed by requirements that the young should visit prisons that they might realize the consequences of crime, and that all executions should be public and should be performed on the highest hill.

So much has been written about the decrease of crime that follows the reduction of penalties, and likewise about the numerous crimes of violence which generally follow public hangings, that it is hardly necessary to recall it to the reader. The fact is, those who say that punishment deters have no confidence in their own statement.

The operations of the human mind have always been clouded in mystery and obscurity. The effect of what is seen and heard and felt has never been certain. The great power of suggestion, especially with the young, is only now beginning to be understood. Many things can be done by suggestion. The immature brain records everything that the senses carry to it through the nerves; these records, through lively imagination, are constantly suggesting and urging to action. All good teachers and observing parents know its power and, so far as such matters can be proved, it seems clear that the details of crime and punishment reproduce themselves over and over again by the suggestion carried to the mind, especially with the young. There is every reason to think that suggestions of crime will affect the mind as much as suggestions of adventure, love or war.

Does it then follow that no one shall be restrained from freedom on account of either his actions or his nature? It is really idle to ask this question. No matter what one may think of the so-called criminal and his responsibility, or quite regardless of whether we feel pity or hatred, the great mass of the community will not suffer one who has little self-control to interfere seriously and directly with the peace and happiness of the community in which he lives. Whether by the action of the law or by vigilance committees, some men will not be allowed to be at large. Doubtless under proper treatment and environment most of this sort of anti-social conduct would disappear, but for many years to come it will remain.

Taking away the liberty of another has only one justification. The great mass of people in any community must and will act for self-defense. It needs no fine-spun theories to justify it. Hatred should have nothing to do with it. The conduct of man in this regard is only like that of the animal which destroys the one that is inimical to the pack or herd. The self-protection of the group is the same as the self-protection of the individual. Both the group and the man will save their lives against a lunatic or any other menace, regardless of the nature of the menace.

Punishment, in the proper meaning of the term, cannot be justified by any reasoning. Punishment really means the infliction of pain because the individual has wilfully transgressed. Its supposed justification is that somehow the evil done is atoned for, or made good, or balanced if the author of the evil shall suffer pain. Punishment means that the suffering by the victim is the end, and it does not mean that any good will grow out of the suffering. It seems as if the question only needed to be stated for right-thinking men to deny the validity of punishment.

It may be argued that whether the victim is punished or simply restrained can make no difference. In this lies the whole difference between scientific and humane treatment of the unfortunate, and the vengeful punishments that have always been visited by the strong upon the helpless and the weak. Society restrains the imbecile, the dangerously insane, the victims of deadly, contagious diseases. All these are restrained without any feeling of hatred, but with pity and understanding. Society does not keep one of these persons under restraint after he has sufficiently recovered to make it safe to return him to the community; neither does it release one until he is safe. It uses the best methods for his treatment that may make him fit to live with his fellows, and the best efforts to place him in a proper environment when discharged. Neither does any disgrace nor humiliation nor handicap attach to the unfortunate when discharged. In a sense, the attitude of mind held by the group toward the "criminal" is the whole question. From this everything follows, and without it change or humanity or hope is not possible.