The family of off-duty police officer Mark Allen MacPhail is “furious” about the stay of execution granted yesterday evening by the Supreme Court, about two hours before the scheduled 7 p.m. execution.  The Atlanta Constitution-Journal reports:

Annelie Reaves, MacPhail’s sister, said the victim’s family was furious but would wait for the execution to be rescheduled.

“It should have happened today,” she said, “but justice will be served.”

At least two members of MacPhail’s family were to witness the execution, and they will return when the execution is rescheduled, Reaves said.

In response to Davis’ hope that the real killer will be found, the officer’s family and friends all laughed. “He knows who the killer is,” Reaves said of Davis.

There is nothing surprising about the family’s reaction.  But the lesson it teaches is precisely why victim’s rights advocates are so terribly wrong in their well-intended by misguided quest to give the family’s of victims a table in the well.

The issue is not whether Officer MacPhail was murdered.  He was.  It is not about whether the murder of a person is a terrible thing.  It is.  The issue is not about whether the murderer of MacPhail should be brought to justice.  He should.  Yes, there is always an issue in capital cases about whether execution is an appropriate punishment, but even this hot-button issue isn’t really at stake in this case.

The issue in this case is whether Troy Davis is guilty of murdering Officer MacPhail.  The family “knows”.  “Ha”, the utter in disdain, “Davis knows he did it.”  Knowing things is easy when one has an absolute belief.  But sympathy toward the victim and his family doesn’t make them right.  At all.  And their refusal to acknowledge, no less appreciate, that there is a very real possibility that the man they so desperately hope to see dead may not be the killer of Officer MacPhail changes nothing.  Not to them.

The Supremes have granted a stay, which may last no longer than a week, to consider whether factual innocence is a good enough reason not to execute someone.  This question will surprise many people, who would expect that innocence is an awfully good reason not to execute someone.  But procedure always comes first in our legal system, and we must respect procedure as if we were all grocery clerks.

Victims want “justice”, just like defendants want “justice”.  That’s why justice is such a great word.  It covers everybody, even though it’s totally opposite in each instance.  To the family of Officer MacPhail, justice means that someone dies to offset the death of MacPhail.  Even if one disagrees with the concept, it is completely understandable. 

We know, from the experiences of the families of other murder victims, that the execution of a person will not end their sorrow and loss.  It doesn’t bring the closure they hope it will.  It ends up being a largely empty experience, failing to meet their expectations.  Some families realize this before the execution.  Some do not. 

The families who believe that another death will end their torment cannot be persuaded otherwise.  It is not a rational belief, but a visceral need to satisfy their lust for vengeance.  I don’t demean this lust, as it is a wholly human need, and likely one that has allowed humans to survive.  But the notion that Troy Davis might not be the killer does not enter into the equation at all.  It’s laughable.

For the rest of us, including the judges, the idea that seven key witnesses have since recanted their testimony that Troy Davis killed Officer MacPhail seems a rather critical consideration.  While recanted testimony is inherently suspect, since the same people previously swore to God that their testimony was true, reducing their credibility to zero, it throws enough of a monkey wrench into the imperfect system to leave an unsatisfying doubt.

Imagine what a judge is to do with this information, contrasted with the victim’s family at a hearing to determine whether he should be put to death.  On the one hand, there is an interest in finality in a verdict.  On the other, there is a serious doubt as to the veracity of the very testimony that resulted in that verdict.  And then there are the victim’s family members, filled with absolute certainty of guilt and bursting with the emotional need to see that “justice” is done.  The only thing that is certain to the judge is that Officer MacPhail is dead and someone murdered him.

What do we expect the judge to say to the victim’s family?  We can all feel their pain and anguish.  No one wants to demean them, to belittle their feelings.  But they add nothing to a rational discussion of the only issue at hand: Whether Troy Davis is the one who murdered MacPhail. 

Does the judge try to explain to the victim’s family that they are being irrational by refusing to understand that this isn’t about whether their loved one was murdered?  Does the judge tell them that their certainty is just a delusion, caused by their desperate desire to see someone put to death?  The depth of their feeling has no place on the issue of guilt, yet the victim’s family has nothing else to offer.

While news of the family’s anger makes for a good emotional counterpoint when crafting an interesting article about the stay of execution, it is wholly irrelevant.  This is why victims have no place in the well of the courtroom, despite the sympathy we have for their loss.