Justice, vengeance, and the exculpation of Anders Breivik

A law professor hasn’t just excused Breivik’s actions, but actually endorsed them

by Andrew Potter on Friday, July 29, 2011 12:49pm - 51 Comments

Norway does not have capital punishment. In fact, the longest sentence you can receive there for murder is 21 years. According to an op-ed by published in yesterday’s New York Times by law professor Thane Rosenbaum, these facts render Norway “legally and morally” unprepared to deal with Anders Bleivik’s atrocity.

How so? He compares the situation in Norway to the public reaction to the acquittal of Casey Anthony, and notes how she is in hiding because of the risk of vigilante justice. He follows this with another American example: the case of Michael Woodmansee, who murdered a 5-year old in 1975 and is due to be released next month. Rosenbaum quotes the boy’s father, who apparently said “If this man [Woodmansee] is released anywhere in my vicinity, or if I can find him after the fact, I do intend to kill this man.”

This is where the piece takes a strange turn. Instead of denouncing these expressions or threats of vigilantism as utterly unacceptable in a civilized society, Rosenbaum writes:

Are these vengeful feelings morally appropriate? The answer is yes — because the actual difference between vengeance and justice is not as great as people think.

Or again:

 Such statements of unvarnished revenge make many uncomfortable. But how different is revenge from justice, really?

Rosenbaum’s piece perfectly captures the mood, as well as the style of reasoning, that has taken hold amongst the American right. Take a general truth, add a glaring non-sequitur, mix in some pidgin sociobiology, and – presto – you get the wonderfully reactionary conclusion that justice is just fancy vengeance, so what does it matter if the state does it or the victim?

Here’s the key passage:

Every legal system, however dispassionate and procedural, must still pass the gut test of seeming morally just; and revenge must always be just and proportionate. That is what the biblical phrase “eye for an eye” means. Justice requires that no less than an eye can be taken in retaliation for a lost eye, but no more than an eye either.

The general truth in this is that any social institution, to be stable, has to be compatible with fundamental and widely distributed human responses.  But the next clause, “and revenge must always be just and proportionate” simply begs the question, by assuming what Rosenbaum is trying to prove, viz., that “proportionate revenge” is properly a part of justice. (The tacked-on reference to the bible plays no argumentative role here; its sole function is to set the pious a-nodding. It’s the right-wing law-prof equivalent of bringing a hypeman onstage).

So why does Rosenbaum think he can simply assert the equivalence of justice and revenge? Bring on the sociobiology:

Despite the stigma of vengeance, it’s as natural to the human species as love and sex. In art and culture, everyone roots for the avenger, and audiences will settle for nothing less than a proper payback — whether it comes from Hamlet, or from the emotionally wounded avengers in “Gladiator,” “Braveheart” or “Unforgiven.” Recent studies in neuroscience and evolutionary psychology have claimed that human beings are hard-wired for vengeance.

This bit is exactly why people freak out about sociobiology and evolutionary psychology. The “it’s as natural to the human species” is clearly intended as approbation; that is, as carrying normative weight.  But here’s an exercise: substitute “rape” for “vengeance”, and “men” for “humans,” in that paragraph and see how it scans. The problem with it, I trust, becomes apparent.

As he heads for home, Rosenbaum stops even trying to soft-pedal his agenda: “Legal systems should punish the guilty commensurate with their crimes and recognize a moral duty to satisfy the needs of victims to feel avenged.” And then: “Neither justice nor revenge is negotiable.”

These are remarkable things for a professor of law to write. Far from being aspects of the same instinct, the difference between revenge and justice is as fundamental as the difference between a tort and a crime, and the move from revenge to justice marks the step from tribalism to the state or – if you prefer – from barbarism to civilization. Despite what Rosenbaum seems to think, the desire for vengeance is a bug, not a feature, of human motivation.

The central difficulty with it is buried in Rosenbaum’s own argument – the need for the victim to feel avenged. The problem is that if I wrong you and you seek revenge, it is very unlikely that I will think that your retaliation is proportionate and “just”. More than likely, I’ll see your retaliation as a further wrong that needs a response from me, and so on. This is a very common cycle in human interactions; it’s called  a feud, and they can last for generations and encompass entire families and tribes. The crucial step into civilization was taking the right to retaliation out of private hands and putting an end to the cycle of feuds.

Rosenbaum seems to think that the public system of criminal justice is nothing more than the state serving as a referee between private (and negotiable) desires for revenge. It isn’t. It is aimed at upholding the public system of non-negotiable rights. There is a great deal of confusion on this score, partly because of how television drama treats criminal cases (with all the talk about victims “pressing charges”, which they don’t do IRL), partly because the growing fetish for victim impact statements is obscuring the tort/crime distinction. But that should be seen for what it is – a decline into barbarism, not a fulfillment of the demands of justice.

The upshot is this: Despite what Rosenbaum seems to be arguing, victims of crimes do not have the right to feel avenged. To have it so would be to privilege private interests and reasons over those of the public, and is quite literally a counsel of barbarism.

If you don’t agree, think of it this way: Claiming that the public standard of reasonableness is unsatisfactory to the demands of justice is exactly what what Anders Breivik used to justify his actions. Whatever else he is, Breivik saw himself as a vigilante upholding a private theory of justice in the face of a failure of the state to provide satisfaction. Whether he realizes or not, Thane Rosenbaum has written a piece that doesn’t just excuse Breivik’s actions, but actually endorses them.

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  • Anonymous

    First, that Biblical saying (‘Eye for an eye’) was canceled by Jesus in the book of Matthew, where he said to replace that old law with ‘Turn the other cheek.’ Second, if punishment were about proportional vengeance, then I suppose the murderer should be killed, the thief should be robbed, the rapist raped, etc. That would give us exactly proportional penalties. But we don’t do that, for the point of our jails is to protect the public from a dangerous person and to try and reform the wrongdoer so that they are less harmful when released — that’s why it’s called a ‘correctional’ system. It’s got nothing to do with some cave-man notion of blood justice or vengeance. Third, for those who criticize the Norwegian system, it’s actually vastly superior to the American system; the recidivism rate in Norway is between 40 and 45%, while in the US it’s closer to 67%. Believe me, no one in Europe is looking towards the harsher systems of the US, China or Iran as worthwhile models to follow. For those who don’t get the point of Potter’s comparison with rape, there’s a French saying that when you point at the moon, the fool will stare at your finger. Potter uses a comparison to draw your attention to an abstract principle. It’s not that hard to figure out.

  • Anonymous

    First, that Biblical saying (‘Eye for an eye’) was canceled by Jesus in the book of Matthew, where he said to replace that old law with ‘Turn the other cheek.’ Second, if punishment were about proportional vengeance, then I suppose the murderer should be killed, the thief should be robbed, the rapist raped, etc. That would give us exactly proportional penalties. But we don’t do that, for the point of our jails is to protect the public from a dangerous person and to try and reform the wrongdoer so that they are less harmful when released — that’s why it’s called a ‘correctional’ system. It’s got nothing to do with some cave-man notion of blood justice or vengeance. Third, for those who criticize the Norwegian system, it’s actually vastly superior to the American system; the recidivism rate in Norway is between 40 and 45%, while in the US it’s closer to 67%. Believe me, no one in Europe is looking towards the harsher systems of the US, China or Iran as worthwhile models to follow. For those who don’t get the point of Potter’s comparison with rape, there’s a French saying that when you point at the moon, the fool will stare at your finger. Potter uses a comparison to draw your attention to an abstract principle. It’s not that hard to figure out.

  • Anonymous

    As Potter implies, the last few decades have arguably seen more North Americans buy into the idea that the central (or at least a central) purpose of criminal justice is to fulfill victims’ desire for redress.  As he points out, there are some problems with this, but contrary to his post, in many cases victims’ desires do partly reflect their concern for justice (in the sense of a morally right state of affairs, not in the sense of institutionalized state practices in the administration of law).  But if there’s no longer a public belief in, or a public way of articulating a belief in, a moral realist framework, then it isn’t surprising that people would resort to construing justice in terms of satisfying individuals’ feelings.  If there’s no authoritative moral standard against which the state’s legal and penal administration can be judged, and to which we can demand that it conform—if there’s no moral touchstone by which we can assess, independently of our mere feelings, whether the state’s criminal penalties are too harsh or too lenient—then what is left but to claim that providing psychological satisfaction to individuals is the ultimate point, or alternatively, to claim that our feelings are wholly misleading, and that we should just suck it up and conduct criminal justice on the basis of some other abstract principle (hello, consequentialism) even if it isn’t psychologically gratifying?

    Or, amazing thought, perhaps we could buy into a moral realist outlook again.  We could recognize that our feelings provide at least a vague signal, if far from a wholly reliable one, about the real moral order of the cosmos that makes real demands on us.  And in recognizing that moral order, we would have a point of reference that supercedes our feelings, that matters more than them and gives us a basis to overrule and discipline them when they turn inconsistent or arbitrary.

  • Anonymous

    As Potter implies, the last few decades have arguably seen more North Americans buy into the idea that the central (or at least a central) purpose of criminal justice is to fulfill victims’ desire for redress.  As he points out, there are some problems with this, but contrary to his post, in many cases victims’ desires do partly reflect their concern for justice (in the sense of a morally right state of affairs, not in the sense of institutionalized state practices in the administration of law).  But if there’s no longer a public belief in, or a public way of articulating a belief in, a moral realist framework, then it isn’t surprising that people would resort to construing justice in terms of satisfying individuals’ feelings.  If there’s no authoritative moral standard against which the state’s legal and penal administration can be judged, and to which we can demand that it conform—if there’s no moral touchstone by which we can assess, independently of our mere feelings, whether the state’s criminal penalties are too harsh or too lenient—then what is left but to claim that providing psychological satisfaction to individuals is the ultimate point, or alternatively, to claim that our feelings are wholly misleading, and that we should just suck it up and conduct criminal justice on the basis of some other abstract principle (hello, consequentialism) even if it isn’t psychologically gratifying?

    Or, amazing thought, perhaps we could buy into a moral realist outlook again.  We could recognize that our feelings provide at least a vague signal, if far from a wholly reliable one, about the real moral order of the cosmos that makes real demands on us.  And in recognizing that moral order, we would have a point of reference that supercedes our feelings, that matters more than them and gives us a basis to overrule and discipline them when they turn inconsistent or arbitrary.

  • http://pulse.yahoo.com/_ZELSF6EDRIKZI43KSQBT6JLWY4 balabu

    I fully agree with Thane Rosenbaum.  Vengeance has been a basis for humanity ever
    since humans became distinct from animals. Animals don’t seek vengeance.
    Without vengeance humans would not form into social grouping because harming
    those that harm the group and the individuals in this group provides protection
    for each and every individual in this group and acts as a deterrent.  Calling people that seek revenge barbarians
    does not detract from their humanity. Actually those that oppose revenge are
    inhuman they more resemble docile animals

  • http://pulse.yahoo.com/_ZELSF6EDRIKZI43KSQBT6JLWY4 balabu

    I fully agree with Thane Rosenbaum.  Vengeance has been a basis for humanity ever
    since humans became distinct from animals. Animals don’t seek vengeance.
    Without vengeance humans would not form into social grouping because harming
    those that harm the group and the individuals in this group provides protection
    for each and every individual in this group and acts as a deterrent.  Calling people that seek revenge barbarians
    does not detract from their humanity. Actually those that oppose revenge are
    inhuman they more resemble docile animals

  • etta warman

    From Oliver Wendall Holmes’ “The Common Law”:
    The statement may be made stronger still, and it may be said, not only that the law does, but that it ought to, make the gratification of revenge an object. This is the opinion, at any rate, of two authorities so great, and so opposed in other views, as Bishop Butler and Jeremy Bentham. /1/ Sir James Stephen says, “The criminal law stands to the passion of revenge in much the same relation as marriage to the sexual appetite.” /2/

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