The New Taipei City District Court recently handed down sentences in an on-campus throat-slashing murder of a ninth-grade student that was committed by two schoolmates on Christmas Day last year. The male perpetrator was sentenced to nine years and the female instigator to eight years in prison. The decision sparked outrage from the victim’s father, who criticized the judge for being too lenient toward the perpetrators, questioning how a murder sentence could be lighter than one for corruption.
Let us invite the judge to a game of empathy for this case.
Dear judge, do you really think the victim’s father can calmly accept your decision? If so, what do you think might be the reason? Is it because both perpetrators are minors? Is it because being “underage” inherently suggests a capacity for reform, even if they intentionally committed murder, and that eight to nine years would be sufficient time for them to fully rehabilitate?
Even if this belief is widely accepted, for the judgement to convince the victim’s father and the general public that it is fair, well-considered and supported by evidence, the perpetrators would need to demonstrate clear and discernible changes in their attitudes and behavior. Only then might the victim’s family feel a sense of relief and be willing to consider giving them “a chance for redemption.”
Be honest, judge — that is the kind of recognition you expect your judgement to receive. However, the real challenge lies in how to achieve it, does it not?
The potential for rehabilitation in juvenile offenders should be based on objective, observable actions rather than unverified assumptions.
Why should it be assumed that minors are inherently more reformable than older adults? Or that female offenders have a greater capacity for change than their male counterparts? Why should an offender with dependent children be presumed more capable of reform than one without? Similarly, should a crime be judged more harshly, because the victim left behind young children as opposed to adult children? Such reasoning is truly mind-boggling, is it not?
These are all biased assumptions, whether they are based on age, gender or parental status. In sum, leniency in sentencing should be grounded in evidence of genuine remorse and positive change, not in stereotypes or preconceived notions.
Since the court’s ruling implies that the two offenders have the potential to reflect on their actions and reform during their time in detention, why should the victim’s family not be directly involved in this process?
The Judicial Yuan in around 2010 began exploring the introduction of restorative justice into the judicial system, especially in handling juvenile crimes. Although the results have been mixed, there have been some valuable and enduring achievements.
The restorative justice process not only emphasizes serving a sentence, but also requires the offender to take full responsibility for their actions, apologize, compensate the victim’s family, and show genuine repentance and transformation. That becomes direct evidence of whether they truly have the potential to change. In other words, with the advent of restorative justice, an offender who refuses to engage in dialogue, apologize, acknowledge their wrongdoing or make amends during the restorative process could revert to a traditional judicial approach.
What does this imply? Each retreat back to the traditional system indicates the offender’s refusal to reform, suggesting the need for a heavier sentence.
Thus, under the framework of restorative justice, the willingness to take responsibility can be seen as progress in the process, not necessarily a prerequisite. After all, the victim is already deceased, and no amount of punishment can bring them back to life.
Given this reality, would inviting the victim’s family to accept a restorative justice process be an additional burden on their grief, or could it offer a path forward? It depends on the perspective. No sentence, no matter how severe, can restore the victim’s life, but if the offender could be genuinely reformed through restorative justice — gaining a renewed understanding of the meaning and value of life — then it could create a profoundly different outcome.
So, why not take a step back and think rationally with an open mind? Instead of allowing judges to freely make decisions based on their own biases and find reasons to spare a death row inmate, why not, with the help of professional mediators, allow the offender to rediscover the value of life under the watchful eyes of the victims’ families?
In this case, the victim’s father might be encouraged to opt for restorative justice as a way to address his son’s case. Rather than becoming trapped in an endless cycle of appeals and leaving the decisionmaking power solely to the judges, why not seek the restorative justice mechanism that has been promoted for years by the Judicial Yuan as a way to deal with such a difficult case? It would put the power of judgement firmly in the hands of those who are most directly affected.
Ideally, every death row inmate should be required to undergo a restorative justice process before being eligible for any commutation of their sentence. The abolition of the death penalty would then result in a practical and meaningful outcome of offenders’ efforts to earn the forgiveness and acceptance of the victims’ families.
This way, the call for the abolition of the death penalty could evolve from a mere concept into a form of criminal justice reform that withstands social scrutiny and merits our utmost pursuit.
Chu Jou-juo is a professor in the Department of Labor Relations at National Chung Cheng University.
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