Abstract
Unlike most law professors and even most legal scholars, the vast majority of criminologists are undoubtedly familiar with Cesare Beccaria and his 1764 book, On Crimes and Punishments. Most Criminology textbooks have a paragraph or two about his work, and no doubt, most instructors in undergraduate Criminology courses mention his name in classroom lectures. Yet, if locked in a jail cell for a day with a pencil and a pad of paper, I suspect few criminologists could write more than a couple of paragraphs about his scholarship. After all, with only one (short) book under his belt, Beccaria would have a tough time being tenured today at leading research universities. Criminologists know only a little about his work and a little about its impact. John Bessler’s newest book gives us a wonderful resource for increasing our appreciation for Beccaria and his many time-tested contributions.
Famously, On Crime and Punishments put forth the first systematic arguments against the death penalty. As a direct result, Tuscany (in 1786) and Austria (in 1787) became the first modern states to abolish the death penalty. Nonetheless, while the book did have immeasurable impacts on the way the death penalty was argued (and still is today), it did not directly result in the immediate abolition of the death penalty in other countries. On the other hand, there is no question that the book gave rise to international efforts to abolish the death penalty, and today’s debates about abolition still follow the general outline that Beccaria first staked out.
On Crime and Punishments was published when Beccaria was only 26 years old. Initially, it was published anonymously, Bessler tells us, because of fears of repercussions from political authorities. Indeed, in its early years, the book was banned in some places, and eventually Beccaria was excommunicated from the Catholic Church for his views. Not surprisingly, one of the most forceful early critics of the work was Immanuel Kant, who was steadfast in his belief that all murderers should be executed.
Despite the criticism, the book quickly became one of the most important works to be published during the Enlightenment, and arguably, the single most important book ever published in what is today the discipline of criminology. It was translated into English in 1767, and now, 250 years later, it has been unparalleled in its impact on American legal thought (including on the Declaration of Independence and the American Constitution). It had a special impact on the thinking of Dr. Benjamin Rush, a signatory of the Declaration of Independence who is often called “The Father of American Psychiatry,” and today is recognized as the first major thinker in the United States to argue systematically for a total ban on the death penalty.
Beccaria’s monumental call for reforms in criminal justice systems make a lot more intuitive sense today than when first proposed, although some of his points remain hotly debated. He argued that punishments should be primarily designed to maximize deterrent and incapacitative effects, and he rejected retribution as a penological goal and torture as a means to achieve it. Punishment, he claimed, should be proportionate to the severity of the crime, and the entire criminal justice system should be transparent, with a high degree of predictability. Beccaria was also among the first to discuss how the deterrent effect of punishment was more a function of its certainty and celerity than its severity.
Bessler gives readers a detailed biographical account of Beccaria’s life, helping us to understand why the book was perfect for its time and place and why it gained such immediate popularity. At the time, prisons were especially brutal and inhumane, and almost exclusively reserved for those awaiting either trial or execution. Two of the six chapters in the book discuss the book’s impact in the United States, which at the time was emerging as a nation and ready to take a close look at what type of justice system the new nation would like to build. We learn about how the book influenced a host of America’s forefathers, including Washington, Jefferson, Adams, Madison, Hamilton, and John Jay. Bessler also traces the impact of the book on the Eighth Amendment’s ban on “cruel and unusual punishments” and similar bans in many state constitutions. Paradoxically, the book also helps us see how the increased use of long or life sentences and solitary confinement in the eighteenth century were attempts to moderate the cruelty of death sentences and torture, an argument parallel to today’s discussions about the wisdom of advocating for “life without parole” as an alternative to the death penalty.
This is the fifth book on the death penalty authored by Bessler, who is an associate professor at the University of Baltimore School of Law. His scholarship is detailed and meticulous, with over 100 pages of endnotes and a truly comprehensive Index. The book is not one that can be consumed during a couple of leisurely afternoons on the beach. It reminds readers that American legal philosophy was heavily influenced by European thinkers, a position that today is rejected by some Supreme Court justices who, for example, take the position that international law and emerging international norms are irrelevant to our debates about the death penalty, mass incarceration, and the treatment of children in the criminal justice system. As such, the book serves as a powerful reminder that as we design the American criminal justice system for the next generation, a look back to the novel ideas of 250 years ago can still help to show us the path.