Just Mercy (Adapted for Young Adults): A True Story of the Fight for Justice

“This book is about how quickly we condemn people in this country. […] It is about how we create injustice by allowing our fear, anger, and distance to guide the way we treat those who are more vulnerable.”

Stevenson lays out one of his central arguments, which is that systemic injustice stems from fear and hatred, largely racially motivated, but also directed at other marginalized groups such as women and the poor. He also argues that social and emotional distance allows otherwise ethical people to treat the vulnerable with disregard and cruelty.

“My work has taught me a vital lesson: Each of us is more than the worst thing we’ve ever done. I am persuaded that the opposite of poverty is not wealth; the opposite of poverty is justice. Finally, I’ve come to believe that the true measure of our commitment to justice, fairness, and equality cannot be measured by how we treat the rich, the respected, and the privileged among us. The true measure of our character is how we treat the poor, the disfavored, the accused, the incarcerated, and the condemned.”

In this passage Stevenson explicitly states one of his core beliefs and introduces the theme of Advocacy and Empathy. His belief in the importance of advocating for and empathizing with the most vulnerable communities is central to his work and creates a personal ethics that informs the narrative that follows.

“Some folks said I should explain that I was a civil rights attorney working on police misconduct cases. But why, I wondered, should someone have to explain their professional credentials in order to be taken seriously about police misconduct?”

Stevenson is illegally harassed and searched by police merely for existing as a Black man on a city street. He rightfully questions the assumption that he should have explained his job to the police, as this implies that only those with impressive credentials have a right to expect fair treatment under the law.

“There was a shamefulness about the experience I couldn’t shake. Everyone I saw at the prison seemed surrounded by a cloud of regret and remorse. The prison officials had pumped themselves up to carry out the execution, but even they revealed extreme discomfort and some measure of shame. Maybe I was imagining it, but it seemed everyone recognized that what was taking place was wrong.”

When Stevenson witnesses Herbert Richardson’s execution, he is struck by how viscerally wrong it feels. It is significant to him that even those in charge of the execution, who vocally support it, display some level of shame and remorse, as if in recognition that the death penalty is inherently wrong.

“‘We were with him all day! What are we supposed to do, Mr. Stevenson? Tell us, what are we supposed to do with that?’ Her face twisted in pain. ‘I feel like I’ve been convicted, too. [...] I feel like they done put me on death row, too. What do we tell these children about how to stay out of harm’s way when you can be at your own house, minding your own business, surrounded by your entire family, and they still put some murder on you that you ain’t do and send you to death row?’”

Walter’s older sister Armelia asks what they can do when faced with such blatant injustice. This scene exemplifies how a miscarriage of justice can affect an entire community. However, it also shows the power of advocacy and empathy, as Stevenson's support and compassion reassures Walter’s family that someone is on their side.

“Developing the trust of clients is not only necessary to manage the complexities of litigation and deal with the stress of a potential execution; it’s also key to effective advocacy. A client’s life often depends on his lawyer’s ability to create a narrative that puts in content and explains his poor decisions or violent behavior.”

Stevenson argues that advocacy and empathy are integral parts of his job as a lawyer representing death row inmates. In these cases, where a person’s life literally hangs in the balance, the client deserve all the understanding, attention, and empathy their lawyer can give.

“By the 1980s, a new movement had emerged in the criminal justice system, and there seemed to be an attitude that was more responsive to the perspective of crime victims and their families. The problem was that not all crime victims received the same treatment. [...] Focusing on the social status of the victim became one more way for the criminal justice system to favor some people and disfavor others—specifically poor and minority victims of crime.”

This quote testifies to Systemic Injustice and Racial Bias. Even laws intended to help victims, rather than punish criminals, can suffer from racial and economic bias. Such laws are just one more example of how the justice system is built to marginalize and punish Black and brown people and the poor while protecting those in positions of privilege and power.

“In poor urban neighborhoods across the United States, black and brown boys are routinely targeted by the police. Even though many of these kids have done nothing wrong, they are stopped, presumed guilty, and suspected of being dangerous or engaged in criminal activity. The random stops, questioning, and harassment dramatically increase the risk of arrest for petty crimes. Many of these children develop criminal records for behavior that wealthier children engage in without consequences.”

In this quote, Stevenson provides another example of racial bias upon which the legal system is built. Police profiling based entirely on race is a common practice that has the potential to ruin the lives of Black and brown children, particularly in urban areas. Meanwhile, white, wealthy children face no such repercussions for the same behavior.

“In that moment, I felt something peculiar, a deep sense of recognition. I smiled now, because I knew she was saying to the room, ‘I may be old, I may be poor, I may be black, but I’m here. I’m here because I’ve got this vision of justice that compels me to be a witness. I’m here because I’m supposed to be here. I’m here because you can’t keep me away.’”

In this moment, Mrs. Williams has gathered her courage and walked past the police dog to enter the courtroom. When she announces to the room, “I’m here,” it is an act of Black defiance and resilience in the face of police violence and trauma.

“America’s prisons have become warehouses for the mentally ill. Mass incarceration has been largely fueled by misguided drug policy and excessive sentencing, but the internment of hundreds of thousands of poor and mentally ill people has been a driving force in achieving our record levels of imprisonment.”

Here, Stevenson turns his attention to the problem of people with mental illness in prisons. A series of legal policies has led to incarcerating people who need treatment rather than punishment. It is just one more example of the inherent injustice of the legal system.

“I drove back to Montgomery, sadly realizing that even as we stood on the brink of victory and what should have been a glorious release for Walter and his family, this whole nightmare—the conviction, the death sentence, and the heartbreak and devastation of this miscarriage of justice—would likely never be completely over for him.”

Stevenson has just learned that Walter’s wife, Minnie, intends to leave him when he is released from prison. Though she has supported him throughout his ordeal, she does not want to return to the way things were before his arrest. Stevenson laments that this is just one way that the Walter’s wrongful conviction will continue to affect him long after he is exonerated.

“It was far too easy to convict this wrongly accused man for murder and send him to death row for something he didn’t do and much too hard to win his freedom after proving his innocence. We have serious problems and important work that must be done in this state.”

At Walter’s last hearing before release, Stevenson feels compelled to make this final statement. It is a condensed version of one of the book’s central arguments: There are enormous problems to be addressed in the justice system, and everyone must do the work to address it.

“Men in their cells could see the crowd outside and started shouting encouragement to Walter as he walked away. We couldn’t see them from outside the prison, but their voices rang out just the same—the voices were haunting because they were disembodied, but they were full of excitement and hopefulness.”

This quote illustrates The Power of Hope and Resilience. Walter’s release gives the other men hope that they too can be released. His victory is their victory.

“At the time of Marsha Colbey’s arrest, all five of the women who were on Alabama’s death row were condemned for the unexplained deaths of their young children or the deaths of abusive spouses or boyfriends.”

In his discussion of incarcerated women, Stevenson highlights the extenuating circumstances of most cases of women convicted of murder, arguing that these circumstances should afford them empathy and compassion in sentencing. Despite this, women face extreme punishments.

“Most people released from prison after being proved innocent receive no money, no assistance, no counseling—nothing from the state that wrongly imprisoned them. Even today, almost half of all states (twenty-two) offer no compensation to the wrongly imprisoned to help them get back on their feet, or even to make up for the money they would have been making during the time they were incarcerated.”

This passage discusses an oft-ignored issue that worsens already egregious errors in the justice system. Few states compensate victims of judicial misconduct and wrongful conviction, leading those who are exonerated and released to face significant financial hardship in the future.

“I asked the judge to reconsider Evan’s sentence in light of his age. The prosecutor argued, ‘I think he should be executed. He deserves the death penalty.’ He lamented that the law no longer authorized the execution of children because he just couldn’t wait to put this fourteen-year-old boy in the electric chair and kill him. The judge denied our motion.”

This quote shows the cruelty and hatred some hold even for vulnerable children who deserve understanding and compassion. This prosecutor displays nothing less than bloodlust in his desire to execute a 14-year-old boy, a trait more common than one might suspect in the justice system.

“On top of the stresses that all teens experience, those who grow up poor, or in environments marked by abuse, violence, dysfunction, neglect, and the absence of loving caretakers are left vulnerable to the sort of extremely poor decision-making that results in tragic violence.”

Stevenson argues that life sentences for children are cruel because courts do not account for the upbringing and extenuating circumstances of children, and disregard the fact that most children can and will outgrow violent or criminal behavior given the right support.

“During the argument, I told the court that the United States is the only country in the world that imposes sentences of life imprisonment without parole on children—a practice that violates international law.”

Here Stevenson makes clear that the US is an exception to accepted law in the rest of the world. The fact that international law already forbids such sentencing for minors is intended to make clear the inherent cruelty in the American justice system and its callous treatment of children.

“We’re supposed to sentence people fairly after fully considering their life circumstances. Instead, we exploit those who are unable to afford the legal assistance they need. […] Why do we want to kill all the broken people? What is wrong with us, that we think a thing like that can be right?”

As Stevenson contemplates Jimmy Dill’s execution, he grows angry and despairing about his failure and the brokenness of the justice system and society as a whole. This is Stevenson's lowest moment of despair and doubt, which leads to his revelation a few passages later.

“I don’t do what I do because it’s required or necessary or important. I don’t do it because I have no choice. I do what I do because I’m broken, too. […] You can’t effectively fight abusive power, poverty, inequality, illness, oppression, or injustice and not be broken by it.”

In the midst of his crisis, Stevenson realizes and accepts his own brokenness. He acknowledges that it is impossible to do what he does, and care the way he does, without being damaged by it, but also argues that this is what makes him capable of empathizing with others.

“We have a choice. We can embrace our humanness, which means embracing our broken natures and the compassion that remains our best hope for healing. Or we can deny our brokenness, deny compassion, and, as a result, deny our own humanity.”

This passage is the emotional backbone of the book. Here Stevenson comes to his revelation that people’s inherent brokenness is what makes them human, and what makes them connected. This revelation fuels his determination to continue advocating for his fellow broken humans in the face of hardship and failure.

“All these young children being sent to prison forever, all this grief and violence. Those judges throwing people away like they’re not even human, people shoot each other, hurting each other like they don’t care. It’s a lot of pain. I decided that I was supposed to be here to catch some of the stones people cast at each other.”

This quote from an older Black woman Stevenson briefly meets in a courtroom references the story in the Bible when Jesus demands that those without sin be the first to cast stones at perceived sinners. She sees herself, and Stevenson, as “stonecatchers” who catch the stones people throw at each other. Stevenson uses this as a metaphor for his work as an advocate.

“I told the congregation that Walter’s case had taught me that the death penalty is not about whether people deserve to die for the crimes they commit. The real question of capital punishment in this country is Do we deserve to kill?”

The question “Do we deserve to kill?” is the core question of Just Mercy. It asks not who deserves to die but whether anyone, even the justice system, has the right to take a life, no matter what a person has done. Importantly, Stevenson does not only ask the question, but also strives to answer it.