With Paul Bernardo’s name back in the news (this time over a move to a new prison cell), it’s time to spend a few moments discussing the role of victims of crime in the justice system, and how far it should really go.
Criminals like Bernardo are notorious, and their names evoke strong emotional reactions in the public. Of course, we should be aware of, and compassionate towards the victims and their families. But, should the victims be “in the driver’s seat” around decisions regarding the punishment (and rehabilitation) of the offenders?
I’m old enough to remember the wailing and gnashing of teeth that happened every so often when Clifford Olson would apply for parole. It was ridiculous then, and that was long before legal constructs like “dangerous offender” existed. It was clear for Olson that this was a game - a way to get some attention in the news as the families of his victims were once again in front of cameras going on about the injustice of him even applying for parole. It was no secret that Olson was never going to get parole.
Likewise with Bernardo. He’s been locked up since 1995 - some 28 years at this point. With a dangerous offender designation attached to his file, the odds of him ever getting parole are vanishingly close to zero. He isn’t getting out of custody, even if he applies for parole.
Here we are today, with him being moved to a “medium security” prison, which really just means he has some freedom to move about within the walls of the prison. He’s not getting out, nor is he eligible for the so-called “Club Fed” treatment of a minimum security institution.
The uproar here is wildly out of place, but predictably, the families are front and centre complaining about how they weren’t consulted, and how they’re being traumatized again. Fair enough. There is nothing that will bring back their children. But we shouldn’t confuse their distress with having an automatic right to dictate how the offender should be handled by Corrections Canada.
The natural reaction they have is to demand that the offender be locked up and never allowed to see the light of day. That isn’t justice, it’s revenge. Yes, they have every right to be angry - but there is a careful line to walk between what they as victims may see as “just” and justice in the broader sense of the term. That is why complex structures like sentencing guidelines exist - what the victim may think is “just” and what is justice in the more complex context of society may well differ considerably.
One of the points of the current system is to put a certain amount of distance between offenders and the victims. This is important from a number of perspectives, including that of the victim. You need time and space in order to heal from whatever trauma has been inflicted upon you. To be fair, healing is not a linear process, and you may need considerable amounts of professional help along the way.
Should your concerns be heard when matters such as parole are discussed? Yes, of course they should. On the other hand, those opportunities should not be used as the sole criteria for deciding if a given offender should be granted parole.
Similarly, we have to also recognize that there can be perverse consequences to ever harsher approaches to punishment (so-called “lock them up and throw away the key” thinking) - most offenders are serving finite sentences, and will be released when those sentences are completed. If we deny parole in the name of assuaging the victim’s sense of being wronged, then the offender has fewer opportunities to develop the skills needed to function outside of the prison environment, and is more likely to re-offend upon release. Being vengeful here ends up meaning that someone else is likely as not to be harmed.
That is the balance that the Corrections system has to walk - and it is far from an easy one.
It might seem “easy” to say in the case of an offender like Bernardo, whose crimes are so egregious, that we should weld the door to his cell shut and leave it at that. But it isn’t that easy - Bernardo might be the worst possible offender, but even there, we have an obligation to ensure that punishment is proportional.
Where we fail in this balance of correction and punishment is that we do comparatively little for victims. Sure, the courts will talk about restitution, and fines can be levied, etc, but so what? We don’t make a concerted effort to help the victims heal from the traumas that they have experienced. Long term supports, including access to therapists, should be a part of the story here. We need to spend as much effort on helping victims heal as we do on determining and administering punishment.
I’m not talking about “helping the victims understand the process” stuff here, I’m talking about processing trauma and learning to live with the reality of what has happened. Far too often when notorious cases come up in the news, we get the victims on the news as well, and it’s quite clear that they are reliving the traumas of the past, and it’s worse than it was the first time around. They need help too, and we aren’t providing it.
Lastly, politicians and news media need to quit doing the “there’s blood in the water” routine with these cases. Characters like Paul Bernardo make easy political fodder for politicians who want to seem like they’re “tough on crime”, but by making victims relive their trauma for political points, the politicians become part of the cycle of abuse that the victims experience.
Bernardo’s name shouldn’t come so easily to our lips - he should be ignored, shunned, and ultimately forgotten - and our politicians and news media need to learn that lesson too.
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