Perry's execution record outstrips Bush's

Rick Perry has overseen more executions than George "the Texecutioner" Bush.

The Republican presidential candidate hopeful, Rick Perry, has outstripped his gubernatorial predecessor, George W. Bush, in the number of executions he has overseen.

George Bush, the so-called "Texecutioner", who has been described as a "modern-day Pontius Pilate", oversaw the execution of 152 convicts over five years.

Perry, the current Governor of Texas, has overseen 234 executions, although he has held the office for 11 years, meaning he is overseeing a lower rate of execution.

If a Governor of Texas is to commute a death sentence, he or she must first be referred the commutation by a Board of Pardons and Paroles, and if the Board denies commutation, the Governor cannot act on this. However, the Governor appoints the Board of Pardons and Paroles him or herself. Perry has only commuted one sentence as Governor.

In 2002, Perry vetoed a bill that would have prevented the death penalty from being handing to mentally retarded inmates.

1,224 inmates have been executed in Texas since 1819 - more than any other state - and it is also the state with the second highest rate of execution, overtaken only by Oklahoma.

In "Fed Up!: Our Fight to Save America from Washington", Perry says "If you don't support the death penalty...don't come to Texas."

He also courted controversy when he refused to prevent the execution of Humberto Leal Garcia, a Mexican national who was not informed that he was entitled to access legal advice from the Mexican consulate, a move that some feared could provoke a diplomatic incident. The White House, and Obama himself, appealed to Perry to reprieve Garcia, noting that failure to do so could "have serious repercussions for United States foreign relations, law-enforcement and other co-operation with Mexico, and the ability of American citizens travelling abroad to have the benefits of consular assistance in the event of detention."

Perry has also been criticised for his decision to ignore forensic evidence relating to the case of Cameron Todd Willingham, a man convicted of killing his children by arson in 1994, and executed ten years later. An investigation into the case was launched in 2009, with one representative of the Texas Forensic Science Commission concluding that "a finding of arson could not be sustained".

The Chicago Tribune concluded that:

Over the past five years, the Willingham case has been reviewed by nine of the nation's top fire scientists - first for the Tribune, then for the Innocence Project, and now for the commission. All concluded that the original investigators relied on outdated theories and folklore to justify the determination of arson. The only other evidence of significance against Willingham was twice-recanted testimony by another inmate who testified that Willingham had confessed to him. Jailhouse snitches are viewed with scepticism in the justice system, so much so that some jurisdictions have restrictions against their use.

Perry dismissed the chair of the Texas Forensic Science Commission, along with two other board members, two days before it was due to review the case. The new chair cancelled the meeting.

Perry's rival Michele Bachmann says she is "100 per cent pro-life" and "believe[s] in the dignity of life from conception until natural death", although she has not made explicit comments on the death penalty.

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How “cli-fi” novels humanise the science of climate change

The paradox is that the harder climate-fiction novels try, the less effective they are.

When the Paris UN Climate Change Conference begins at the end of November, the world’s leaders will review the climate framework agreed in Rio in 1992. For well over 20 years, the world has not just been thinking and talking about climate change, it has also been writing and reading about it, in blogs, newspapers, magazines – and in novels.

Climate change fiction is now a recognisable literary phenomenon replete with its own nickname: “cli-fi”. The term was coined in 2007 by Taiwan-based blogger Dan Bloom. Since then, its use has spread: it was even tweeted by Margaret Atwood in 2013:

It is not a genre in the accepted scholarly sense, since it lacks the plot formulas or stylistic conventions that tend to define genres (such as science fiction or the western). However, it does name a remarkable recent literary and publishing trend.

A 21st-century phenomenon?

Putting a number to this phenomenon depends, partly, on how one defines cli-fi. How much of a novel has to be devoted to climate change before it is considered cli-fi? Should we restrict the term to novels about man-made global warming? (If we don’t, we should remember that narratives about global climatic change are as old as The Epic of Gilgamesh and the Biblical story of the flood.) If we define cli-fi as fictional treatments of climate change caused by human activity in terms of setting, theme or plot – and accept there will be grey areas in the extent of this treatment – a conservative estimate would put the all-time number of cli-fi novels at 150 and growing. This is the figure put forward by Adam Trexler, who has worked with me to survey the development of cli-fi.

This definition also gives us a start date for cli-fi’s history. While planetary climatic change occurs in much 20th-century science fiction, it is only after growing scientific awareness of specifically man-made, carbon-induced climate change in the 1960s and 1970s that novels on this subject emerged. The first is Arthur Herzog’s Heat in 1976, followed by George Turner’s The Sun and the Summer (published in the US as Drowning Towers) in 1987.

At the turn of this century, Maggie Gee and TC Boyle were among the first mainstream authors to publish climate change novels. In this century, we can count Atwood, Michael Crichton, Barbara Kingsolver, Ian McEwan, Kim Stanley Robinson, Ilija Trojanow and Jeanette Winterson as major authors who have written about climate change. The past five years have given us notable examples of cli-fi by emerging authors, such as Steven Amsterdam, Edan Lepucki, Jane Rawson, Nathaniel Rich and Antti Tuomainen.

Creative challenges

Cli-fi is all the more noteworthy considering the creative challenge posed by climate change. First, there is the problem of scale – spatial and temporal. Climate change affects the entire planet and all its species – and concerns the end of this planet as we know it. Novels, by contrast, conventionally concern the actions of individual protagonists and/or, sometimes, small communities.

Added to this is the networked nature of climate change: in physical terms, the climate is a large, complex system whose effects are difficult to model. In socio-cultural terms, solutions require intergovernmental agreement – just what COP21 intends – and various top-down and bottom-up transformations. Finally, there exists the difficulty of translating scientific information, with all its predictive uncertainty, into something both accurate and interesting to the average reader.

Still, cli-fi writers have adopted a range of strategies to engage their readers. Many cli-fi novels could be classified as dystopian, post-apocalyptic or, indeed, both – depicting nightmarish societies triggered by sometimes catastrophic climate events. A future world is one effective way of narrating the planetary condition of climate change.

Some novelists are also careful to underpin their scenarios with rigorous climatic predictions and, in this way, translate science fact into a fictional setting. Kingsolver, who trained as an ecologist, is the best example of this – and Atwood and Robinson are also known for their attempts at making their speculations scientifically plausible. Also, cli-fi novels, particularly those set in the present day or very near future rather than in a dystopian future, tend to show the political or psychological dimensions of living with climate change. Readers can identify with protagonists. To some extent, the global community is represented in fictional everymen or everywomen. Or, often, it is through such characters that science is humanised and its role in combating climate change better understood.

Can cli-fi lead to change?

Could cli-fi affect how we think and act on climate change? The paradox is that the harder cli-fi tries, the less effective it is. Many writers want to inspire change, not insist on it: the line between literature and propaganda is one that most novelists respect. Literature invites us to inhabit other worlds and live other lives. Cli-fi at its best lets us travel to climate-changed worlds, to strive there alongside others and then to return armed with that experience.

In Paris, the UN will seek a global agreement on climate action for the first time in more than 20 years. There is plenty of climate change fiction out there to help provide the mental and psychological space to consider that action.

The Conversation

Adeline Johns-Putra, Reader in English Literature, University of Surrey

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.