Time For Change: Rethink Harsh Sentencing in America

Changing one’s mind is often framed as indecision. But as Health & Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s recent reversal on childhood measles vaccines shows, it can also be an act of leadership.

Faced with rising measles outbreaks and deaths, RFK Jr. urged the public to get vaccinated—marking a sharp turn from earlier views. In this flip, he did what lawmakers and parole boards have long resisted: respond to evolving facts.

America’s criminal legal system desperately needs a shift in thinking. Particularly when it comes to people serving extreme sentences for violent offenses—sentences that in many cases no longer reflect the individual, the risk, or the reality.

A “long sentence” in the U.S. often means decades behind bars. Today, more than 200,000 people are serving life or “virtual life” sentences of 50 years or more. Over 30,000 of them are behind bars in Mississippi, parole is rarely granted even after decades of demonstrated change. Nationally, one in seven people in prison is serving life.

Recent findings challenge long-held assumptions about who poses a threat. A peer-reviewed study in Current Psychology debunks the idea that harsh punishments deter crime, showing that authoritarian views on sentencing are often rooted more in emotion than evidence.

Research from The Sentencing Project confirms that those convicted of violent crimes—after serving long sentences and showing transformation—are among the least likely to reoffend. The Sentencing Project calls this the “era of permanent punishment” —a stark contrast to evidence-based approaches that prioritize public safety and rehabilitation.

Yet public policy and parole decisions often ignore these facts as in the recent case of Luigi Mangione, a Mississippi man whose sentencing for murder ignited political debate. Despite the Justice Department declining to seek the death penalty, U. S. Attorney General Pam Bondi insisted Mangione should face execution, going so far as to publicly oppose federal prosecutors. Her stance mirrors a broader political reflex: to double down on punishment, regardless of what the evidence suggests.

Mass incarceration isn’t just a domestic issue. There is a global melee over the wrongful deportation and detention of Kilmar Abrego Garcia, who was mistakenly sent to El Salvador amid ongoing detainment operations in the so-called “Mega Prison.” The case, rooted in a failure to verify judicial timelines, exemplifies the irreversible consequences of a system that prioritizes force over facts.

Incarceration must not be permanent by default. And yet parole boards continue to reject release requests—even for elderly individuals with clean disciplinary records, rehabilitative achievements, and decades of demonstrated remorse. These denials aren’t based on who the person is today, but on what they did 30 or 40 years ago.

A 2023 book by Clemson University professor Bryan Miller, Sentencing in the South, examines South Carolina’s harsh sentencing culture and reveals how parole boards have increasingly politicized release decisions. The patterns he describes echo loudly in states like Mississippi, where lawmakers continue to resist meaningful reform.

It’s time to move beyond fear.

Thousands of people have spent decades proving they are no longer a threat to public safety. Many have emerged as mentors, caregivers, and leaders. For instance, Eddie Ellis—once incarcerated for a violent offense—returned to society and spent the rest of his life mentoring youth, building policy, and helping dismantle the very system that once locked him away. He was the founder of the Center for NuLeadership on Urban Solutions and served from the 1990s until his passing in 2014.

The problem isn’t just sentencing—it’s a refusal to accept that people change. Clinging to old labels like “violent offender” ignores reality and undermines justice. According to The National Registry of Exonerations, Equal Justice Initiative nearly 3,500 people have been exonerated since 1989. Some spent decades in prison for crimes they didn’t commit. That alone should be enough to make lawmakers reconsider the practice of warehousing people for life.

Long-term incarceration of elderly individuals is not only inhumane—it’s fiscally reckless. The cost of incarcerating someone over the age of 55 is double that of a younger person. These resources could be redirected toward education, mental health services, or reentry programs that actually make communities safer.

Lawmakers and parole boards must change course. Facts—not fear—must guide sentencing policy. Transformation needs to be rewarded, not ignored. Safety must mean more than punishment—it means justice that evolves as people do.

It’s time to change minds, and it starts with those in power.