'Cruelty In Robert Louis Stevenson's Just Mercy'

After having been forced to endure 11 years of religion lessons (which means I have already meticulously examined every single flaw in our “wolfish” society, including the imperfections of our criminal justice system), I was not particularly keen on reading another holy rant by some self-righteous Jesus turned defense attorney. But since capital punishment in the US has become such a controversial issue in the media, I finally decided to give “Just Mercy” a try two days ago. And it has entirely overturned my idea of the law and its (non)conformers.
Despite my European upbringing, I have always been an avid supporter of the death penalty. My reasoning is simple. Cold-blooded murderers do not have the right to live and should be removed from the Earth’s surface for the safety of others. Mercy toward the undeserving equals aggravated sorrow for the families of the victims. But with his painstaking account of his struggle to free his client, Walter McMillian, an
So why did Stevenson go to such lengths to evoke pathos in his readers? While reading “Just Mercy”, it started to dawn on me that anonymity lay at the root of cruelty. In other words, it is much easier to issue a harsh sentence to a total stranger than to an acquaintance, in the same way as it is easier to shoot at an enemy at a distance than to thrust a knife into his body while looking him in the eyes. From the moment he gets to know the accused as a real human being, the judge will feel an extra responsibility to act fairly and will become less likely to overlook his innocence (if he did not commit any crime). After all, many on death row have killed without premeditation and do not merit execution. In this context, mercy is a tool for bringing justice and throughout “Just Mercy”, Stevenson illustrates this principle with plenty of