And: A "death sentence carefully and deliberately imposed by the jury has been quietly transformed into one no rational jury or legislature could ever impose: life in prison, with the remote possibility of death."
It doesn't bother Carney that death row inmates' lawyers have created that preposterous sentence -- remote possibility of death -- by slowing the wheels of justice with dubious time-sucking appeals. If appellate attorneys think delays are too painful for their clients, maybe they should curb their appeals.
It doesn't matter to the judge that Californians have upheld the state's capital punishment law three times since 1972. In 2012, a majority of voters rejected the well-funded, celebrity-endorsed Proposition 34, which would have replaced the death penalty with life without parole. Clearly, voters think it is rational to hang on to a death penalty that is admittedly too slow and obscenely pricey because it makes less sense to allow capital punishment opponents to subvert the rule of law.
It doesn't bother Carney that another federal judge, Jeremy Fogel of San Jose, effectively stopped the death penalty in California when he ruled in 2006 that the state's three-drug lethal injection protocol was unconstitutional.
Nor does it bother the judge that the court did not correct Fogel's outlier ruling in 2008 after the U.S. Supreme Court ruled 7-2 that Kentucky's three-drug death penalty concoction passes constitutional muster.
You may be wondering what Jones did to earn a cell on death row. Though Carney's opinion included no shortage of political arguments, he neglected to document the ugly details of Jones' 1992 crime. He failed to mention Julia Miller -- the mother of Jones' girlfriend -- who was found bound, stripped to the waist and dead from multiple knife wounds. Carney didn't use the word "rape" or "stab." He didn't mention that, as the Los Angeles Times reported, investigators found Jones' semen and DNA at the scene or that Jones admitted to killing Miller on the stand, although he denied planning it.