Brock Turner, Jacob Anderson, Cory Batey, and Tevin Elliott are young American men commonly associated with sexual assault and rape. Despite committing the same heinous and despicable crime, these men faced drastically different punishments, apparently because of their race and respective privileges.
Brock Turner, a 19-year-old white male and Stanford University swimmer, faced multiple felony charges, including assault with the intent to rape an intoxicated woman. Numerous eyewitnesses corroborated the victim’s allegations and testified that they saw Turner forcibly penetrate the unconscious victim behind a dumpster.
Although a jury found Turner guilty of multiple felony rape offenses that typically carry a lengthy prison sentence, Santa Clara County Superior Court Judge Aaron Perksy sentenced Turner to six months in the local county jail, with the possibility of release within three months. In issuing the sentence, Judge Perksy viewed Turner’s alcohol impairment, character references, and lack of prior criminal record as mitigating factors. Moreover, Judge Perksy further justified his decision to award a lighter sentence by expressing his concern around the “severe impact that state prison could have on someone Turner’s age and the adverse collateral consequences on Turner’s life from a felony conviction.”
Similarly, Jacob Anderson, a white male and Baylor University fraternity president, faced charges of drugging and raping a 19-year-old female student. Ironically, this despicable act occurred in Waco, Texas, a city commonly known as “the buckle of the Bible Belt” and at a university with a sexual assault policy that prides itself on “expecting its students, faculty, and staff to engage in behaviors consistent with a Biblical understanding that physical sexual intimacy is to be expressed in the context of marital fidelity.”
However, as James C. Moore of CNN News aptly noted, “the Bible Belt seems often to be unbuckled.” Despite the city and university’s alleged adoption of these noble Biblical ideals, the court showed lenience when punishing Anderson.
Brock Turner, a 19-year-old white male and Stanford University swimmer, faced multiple felony charges, including assault with the intent to rape an intoxicated woman. Numerous eyewitnesses corroborated the victim’s allegations and testified that they saw Turner forcibly penetrate the unconscious victim behind a dumpster.
Although a jury found Turner guilty of multiple felony rape offenses that typically carry a lengthy prison sentence, Santa Clara County Superior Court Judge Aaron Perksy sentenced Turner to six months in the local county jail, with the possibility of release within three months. In issuing the sentence, Judge Perksy viewed Turner’s alcohol impairment, character references, and lack of prior criminal record as mitigating factors. Moreover, Judge Perksy further justified his decision to award a lighter sentence by expressing his concern around the “severe impact that state prison could have on someone Turner’s age and the adverse collateral consequences on Turner’s life from a felony conviction.”
Similarly, Jacob Anderson, a white male and Baylor University fraternity president, faced charges of drugging and raping a 19-year-old female student. Ironically, this despicable act occurred in Waco, Texas, a city commonly known as “the buckle of the Bible Belt” and at a university with a sexual assault policy that prides itself on “expecting its students, faculty, and staff to engage in behaviors consistent with a Biblical understanding that physical sexual intimacy is to be expressed in the context of marital fidelity.”
However, as James C. Moore of CNN News aptly noted, “the Bible Belt seems often to be unbuckled.” Despite the city and university’s alleged adoption of these noble Biblical ideals, the court showed lenience when punishing Anderson.
A Texas district judge allowed Anderson to plead to a lesser charge of unlawful restraint. Under this lesser charge, the court only required Anderson to pay a $400 fine and attend substance abuse and psychological treatment sessions. Anderson faced no prison time and escaped being publicly listed as sex offender, much to the general public’s dismay.
When looking at Turner and Anderson's cases in isolation, the race and privilege undertones behind their sentences may not be readily apparent. However, when comparing their sentences to other sentences for similar crimes, the role of race and privilege becomes painstakingly obvious.
For example, consider Tevin Elliott, a 20-year-old African American male and Baylor University football player. Elliott faced charges of sexual assault and rape, charges that were practically identical to the ones fellow Baylor student Jacob Anderson faced. However, their sentences differed significantly, as the judge sentenced Elliott to the 20 year maximum. Unlike Anderson, the judge gave Elliot no opportunity to plead to a lesser charge and denied his request for probation to raise his sons.
Similarly, Corey Batey, a 19-year-old African American male and Vanderbilt University football player, faced charges of sexually assaulting and raping an unconscious woman. Although the charges and evidence provided in Batey’s case closely resembled those against Turner, the outcomes varied starkly. While Turner was convicted of multiple felony charges and sentenced to only six months in a local prison, Batey was found guilty of three felony counts of rape and aggravated sexual battery. He was sentenced to 15-to-25 years in prison.
Shaun King of The New York Daily News highlights that Batey’s sentence was “3,000 percent longer than what Brock Turner was a given for a comparable crime.” King further emphasizes this harsh racialized reality by stating that “One man is black and the other is white. I won’t even ask you to guess which is which. This is America.” Unlike Turner’s case, the judge in Batey's case failed to consider the potential impact of incarceration on Batey’s future or the presence of any other mitigating factors.
While the racial implications of these sentences are themselves deeply troubling, what is even more unsettling and under-appreciated is their negative impact on female victims. Failing to hold these men equally accountable merely because of the color of their skin and socioeconomic status atrociously devalues the pain and trauma of their victims.
When looking at Turner and Anderson's cases in isolation, the race and privilege undertones behind their sentences may not be readily apparent. However, when comparing their sentences to other sentences for similar crimes, the role of race and privilege becomes painstakingly obvious.
For example, consider Tevin Elliott, a 20-year-old African American male and Baylor University football player. Elliott faced charges of sexual assault and rape, charges that were practically identical to the ones fellow Baylor student Jacob Anderson faced. However, their sentences differed significantly, as the judge sentenced Elliott to the 20 year maximum. Unlike Anderson, the judge gave Elliot no opportunity to plead to a lesser charge and denied his request for probation to raise his sons.
Similarly, Corey Batey, a 19-year-old African American male and Vanderbilt University football player, faced charges of sexually assaulting and raping an unconscious woman. Although the charges and evidence provided in Batey’s case closely resembled those against Turner, the outcomes varied starkly. While Turner was convicted of multiple felony charges and sentenced to only six months in a local prison, Batey was found guilty of three felony counts of rape and aggravated sexual battery. He was sentenced to 15-to-25 years in prison.
Shaun King of The New York Daily News highlights that Batey’s sentence was “3,000 percent longer than what Brock Turner was a given for a comparable crime.” King further emphasizes this harsh racialized reality by stating that “One man is black and the other is white. I won’t even ask you to guess which is which. This is America.” Unlike Turner’s case, the judge in Batey's case failed to consider the potential impact of incarceration on Batey’s future or the presence of any other mitigating factors.
While the racial implications of these sentences are themselves deeply troubling, what is even more unsettling and under-appreciated is their negative impact on female victims. Failing to hold these men equally accountable merely because of the color of their skin and socioeconomic status atrociously devalues the pain and trauma of their victims.
Failing to hold these male perpetrators accountable diverts the focus away from obtaining justice for the victim to crafting arbitrary distinctions between perpetrators based on characteristics completely unrelated to the crimes they commit. The disparity in treatment of perpetrators ultimately disservices the victims of rape and sexual assault by resting their violators fate on their appearance and respective wealth rather than solely focusing on the nature and circumstances of the atrocities they commit.
These sentencing inequalities build a system where victims will only receive protection and justice if their perpetrators are people of color because those perpetrators are held to a higher standard and face harsher punishments for their actions. As the Sentencing Project’s 2013 report articulated, African-American males are six times more likely to go to prison than white males.
These sentencing inequalities build a system where victims will only receive protection and justice if their perpetrators are people of color because those perpetrators are held to a higher standard and face harsher punishments for their actions. As the Sentencing Project’s 2013 report articulated, African-American males are six times more likely to go to prison than white males.
But the question still remains: Why should a white male be treated any differently than an African-American male if their actions are virtually identical? Why should race and privilege shield some perpetrators while condemning others to a life sentence?
If a white male’s actions are equivalent in nature to those of an African-American male, they should be equally scrutinized and held accountable to the same high standard. Treating perpetrators differently is extremely unfair to victims, especially those of white male perpetrators. It forces these victims to live in a world where their violators potentially get off scot free.
If a white male’s actions are equivalent in nature to those of an African-American male, they should be equally scrutinized and held accountable to the same high standard. Treating perpetrators differently is extremely unfair to victims, especially those of white male perpetrators. It forces these victims to live in a world where their violators potentially get off scot free.
As the victim in Jacob Anderson's case described it, “[my perpetrator] is now free to roam society, stalk women, and no one will know that he is a sex offender.” Without perpetrators of similar crimes experiencing equivalent negative consequences, how can we expect victims to experience redemption?
3 comments:
Thank you for your thoughtful post, Anika. As someone interested in criminal justice reform, I always struggle with how to balance my competing concerns for victims, as well as hoping that defendants receive zealous representation and fair sentences. When the judge that sentenced Brock Turner was recalled due to the outrage over his leniency a few months ago, I was in the middle of my summer internship with a PD office. The reactions there were subdued. Public defenders, and really anyone interested in criminal justice reform, hope that judges will use their discretion when sentencing defendants. We often want them to opt for a lesser sentence. Judges only seem to use this discretion when the defendant looks like, or generally reminds them of themselves. We still hope that discretion remains though, as we slowly try to build a diverse judiciary, and help others recognize their biases.
I would also wager that most of these PDs, even with their reactions to the judge's recall, are feminists who abhor rape culture at large, and by extension the sexual violence that results from it. Personally, I do not know how to reconcile these seemingly contradictory feelings. Obviously, it is unjust that black offenders receive way more jail time and other consequences for their actions with respect to sexual violence than white perpetrators. The next question though, is whose sentence was fair? 6 months? 20 years? Something in between? Should sentenced for sexual violence be standardized, or should judges be given discretion? and then, how do we even begin to trust them to use it fairly? I don't know the answers to any of these questions, but it is so important to get the conversation started.
Anika, this is an interesting exploration of the factors that influence sentencing, and I was really struck by the (horrifying) level of discretion judges have in many cases. I'm reminded of the new Netflix show about Ted Bundy, and how he received so much attention and sympathy arguably just because he was an average-looking white man. Supposedly, the judge sentencing him commented that he was sad to send such a "bright young man" to prison, and that Bundy would have made a good lawyer. This sentiment was echoed by the judge in Brock Turner's case.
It seems that people don't want to accept that their implicit biases are wrong, so they try to find a way to victimize the perpetrator. It highlights society's ideas about what a criminal looks like, and who is deserving of punishment or praise. This unwillingness to accept a conflicting narrative is reflected in the disparate sentences given for the same offense. I wonder how much these decisions are influenced by the identity of the victim in addition to that of the defendant. Is society just more racist than it is sexist?
Anika,
Thank you for starting a conversation on this incredibly important multi-dimensional issue.
One of the most devastating results of sexual predators who are given lax sentences (or elected to the Supreme Court) is the effect it has on victims of sexual assault. Those involved in the sentencing of sexual predators are so concerned with the future of these "bright men" that they forget the futures of those destroyed by the actions of sexual predators. I spoke to a close friend (a survivor of sexual assault) after Brett Kavanaugh was confirmed to the Supreme Court. She broke down in tears and explained that Brett Kavanaugh's confirmation was the perfect example of why she would never report her sexual assault. Not only was Christine Blasey Ford (his accuser) vilified by staunch Brett Kavanaugh supporters, but Kavanaugh wasn't reprimanded in any way. Instead, he was rewarded through a confirmation to sit on the highest court in our judicial system. Lax sentencing and rewarding sexual predators because of their "potential" devalues the reports, lives, and futures of survivors who come forward with their story.
Further, the intersectionality of race in this matter illustrates the disparate treatment of white and black offenders. The crimes both offenders committed were similar and reprehensible in nature, but Shaun King said it best: "[t]he argument here is not that Cory Batey should've been given a break and let off in three months like Brock Turner. Instead, the argument is that the racial disparity in sentencing for similar crimes is completely out of hand. America's jails and prisons are overflowing with young black and Latino teenagers who are paying the harshest price possible for their crimes." When judges give lax sentencing treatment to white men to preserve their "bright futures", but dole out the appropriate sentence for the crime to black men - it illustrates how these judges value the lives and futures of white men over black men.
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