If the purpose of prison really were rehabilitation, we’d be taking lessons from Matthew Charles, not reincarcerating him. Charles had offended before—he’d even committed violent crimes—but the convictions that resulted in a 35-year prison sentence were for possession of a firearm and possession of crack cocaine with intent to distribute.
Charles was convicted and sentenced in the era of 100:1, when the penalties for 1 gram of crack cocaine and 100 grams of powder cocaine were the same. For example, as the New York Times Editorial Board put it, possessing a candy bar’s worth of crack would get you the same sentence as someone carrying a briefcase full of powder cocaine.
The sentencing regime had a disparate impact on black men, including Charles.
[B]ecause the majority of people arrested for crack offenses are African American, the 100:1 ratio resulted in vast racial disparities in the average length of sentences for comparable offenses. On average, under the 100:1 regime, African Americans served virtually as much time in prison for non-violent drug offenses as whites did for violent offenses.
Over the first five years of his sentence, Charles took 30 Bible correspondence classes. He got his GED, took college courses, and became a law clerk. He helped some prisoners by reading for them—and keeping the secret of their illiteracy—and others by providing legal help.
After the Obama administration reduced minimum sentences for crack cocaine offenses, Charles asked a court to review his sentence. The federal district court judge decided that Charles qualified for a reduction; in 2016, he was released.
Charles spent the last two years building a life: He sought out family, got a job, bought a car, found a church, volunteered regularly and began a serious romantic relationship. Meanwhile, the government appealed. Federal prosecutors argued that the sentence was based on Charles being a “career criminal,” a designation they determined applies because of earlier offenses. The Sixth Circuit Court of Appeals, which hears appeals from Kentucky, Michigan, Ohio and Tennessee, agreed. The Supreme Court declined to intervene.
Hands tied by the mandate to restore Charles’s full sentence, Judge Aleta Trauger asked prosecutors to review the case one more time. That’s an extraordinary measure that told prosecutors the judge believed they should have dropped their technicality-driven persecution. They refused. After acknowledging the injustice, Judge Trauger gave Charles 45 days to prepare to serve the rest of his sentence.
From the district court judge and Charles’s probation office to the National Review and the Federalist, no one thinks sending Charles back to prison makes sense. His community banded together to celebrate him before he had to return to prison.
Charles’s case is a reminder not only of systemic injustice in sentencing but of the power of prosecutorial discretion. Federal appointees make calls about who to prosecute, what to charge them with, when to settle (and for how much), when to re-try a case, and, as in this case, when to appeal. We need to take back our benches, but don’t stop there: It’s critical to consider carefully who sits where at the Department of Justice and in U.S. Attorneys’ Offices.