Vol. 5 No. 6 (June, 1995) pp. 176-178
GENDER, CRIME, AND PUNISHMENT by Kathleen Daly. New Haven: Yale
University Press, 1994. 338 pp.
Reviewed by Ann Chih Lin, Department of Political Science,
University of Michigan.
Kathleen Daly's book, GENDER, CRIME, AND PUNISHMENT, shows how
numbers, narrative, and expectations can, if used separately,
operate like the proverbial blind men discovering an elephant. In
this case, the elephant is gender disparity in felony sentencing,
and each blind man finds something different. The numbers say
disparities exist, but actual crime narratives explain them away;
expectations of gendered behavior may be discriminatory, but may
not cause discrimination. Daly's conclusion, quite naturally, is
to try to reconcile these contradictions. Gendered
presuppositions do exist in the world of criminal justice, but
they do not seem to influence punishment. Sentencing, she
believes, is not generally biased, at least in terms of its own
rules.
All this balancing, however, makes the elephant a bit too balky
for Daly to harness. Three challenges confront Daly: explaining
an empirical phenomenon, reconciling different methodologies, and
creating a new approach to the study of gender disparities and
crime. On the empirical question, Daly does an excellent job of
explaining why different sentencing outcomes may not be
disparate, even when they correlate with gender differences. In
the methodological realm, Daly makes a strong case for combining
quantitative with qualitative analysis, and social construction
with outcomes. In her efforts to get the first two tasks right,
however, the last -- "devising a measure of justice"
(p. 264) -- takes the form of interesting but scattered insights,
rather than a consistent focus throughout.
Daly's empirical question is one which bedevils legal advocates
and legal scholars: why are women's felony sentences generally
less severe than men's? Is this a case of prejudice against men?
Or is this an artifact of paternalistic attitudes towards women,
under which feminine women are considered less responsible and
thus more reformable? These two arguments seem incompatible, but
lead logically to the same conclusion -- that the abolition of
gender stereotypes requires longer sentences for women. (The
obvious alternative, that men be punished less harshly, faces
some obvious political obstacles.) As Daly says, "In the
name of a restricted notion of equality with men, more women may
lose their freedom." (p. 271).
Daly's approach to this dilemma is to step back from the
sentencing decision to the original crime. Her regression
analysis of a sample of over 300 cases in New Haven's felony
court shows evidence of gender disparity. After controls are
added, men are 17% more likely to be incarcerated than women, and
receive, on average, an additional year of prison time. But then
she challenges the implicit assumption of this research: that
like charges (robbery, larceny, assault) actually represent like
crimes. To do so, she selects 40 male-female pairs from her data
set, matching them on offense and, when possible, on previous
record, age, and race. She then examines the written
pre-sentencing reports for each case, to determine the
circumstances of the crimes and background of the offenders. In
almost every case of sentencing disparity, she finds that a
difference in the
Page 177 follows: seriousness of the crime or the length of the
offender's record explains the difference in sentencing.
To understand how this might be so, take the case of Simon and
Toni (p. 303-304). Each had a handgun and attempted a robbery. In
Simon's case, however, the victim was accosted in an alleyway and
the robbery seemed to be gang-related, while in Toni's case the
jewelry store clerk did not take Toni's slight, well-dressed
appearance as a threat, even after Toni pulled out a handgun.
Simon's victim ran away as Simon and an accomplice chased him
through a housing project, guns visible, while Toni left the
jewelry store frustrated when the clerk refused to take her
seriously. Especially when Simon's previous arrest and
incarceration are taken into account, the difference between
Simon's four-year prison term and Toni's four-year suspended
sentence makes sense.
Daly's analysis makes clear that ease of categorization does not
always correlate with adequate explanation. Basing an analysis of
sentencing on easily coded categories -- the charge, the use of
weapons, the presence of accomplices -- can be more misleading
than helpful. Such categories not only exclude important
information; they also mean different things in different
contexts. To a robbery victim, being robbed by someone known may
make the experience less frightening. In some cases of larceny or
assault, however, being cheated or injured by someone known may
make the experience worse, because the crime is compounded by a
betrayal of trust and made easier by opportunity. The critical
question is, therefore, whether the judge's ability to see a
crime as a whole, and not merely as the sum of its parts, allows
her to make consistent decisions about the seriousness of a
crime. Daly argues that, with a few exceptions, it does.
Consistency -- and not discrimination -- leads, in the case of
felony sentencing, to different aggregate outcomes for men and
women.
But does this mean that judges are not particularly paternalistic
towards women, or punitive towards men? To answer this question,
Daly turns to transcripts of the sentencing hearings for her 40
matched pairs of offenders. Data problems make her judgments more
tentative in this section. From what she has, however, Daly
concludes that women and men are addressed in gendered ways in
the courtroom -- women are more likely to be thought reformable
or victimized, and their roles as family caretakers are affirmed.
Men, by contrast, are more likely to be addressed as
troublemakers or as unreformable. Interestingly enough, however,
these judgments of character are not related to justifications
for punishment: spoken rationales for the sentence primarily
reflect the harm suffered by the victims or the length of the
offender's prior record. Women are not told that prison is meant
to reform them, and men are not told that they must be imprisoned
to "protect society." Daly concludes that gender
presuppositions in the courtroom exist, but that their effect
upon sentencing has yet to be explored.
The combination of these two studies shows how qualitative and
quantitative research can enrich each other. In her study of
sentences, Daly shows that qualitative
Page 178 follows:
research can answer questions which quantitative research raises.
In her study of sentencing remarks, Daly suggests that simply
finding gendered frames of reference is not enough; research on
outcomes must be added before one knows how and if those frames
matter. Daly is also careful to give critics of either method
some assurance that her results are objective. In this quest, she
shows every step of her work; explains the various controls she
uses; discusses data problems extensively; and includes long
excerpts from transcripts and descriptions of cases, to allow
readers to draw their own conclusions from the evidence.
In some ways, however, the care that Daly takes with both
research results and research method distracts from the argument.
Daly's chapters focus on comparisons -- pair after pair,
transcript after transcript. Only at the end of chapters, and in
summary essays at the end of sections, does she advance the
conclusions to which her comparisons lead. For the reader, this
raises two problems. One is that readers are simply not as
familiar with the cases as Daly is: we do not see the relevant
details immediately, we cannot recall them when they are raised
again later. Each individual case is fascinating, but no thread
links them. The second is that this style keeps Daly from making
a sustained general argument about criminal justice and gender.
The sections of the book progress from descriptions of the
offenders' pathways to crime, to descriptions of the crimes, to
descriptions of the sentencing hearings. This is an utterly
logical research order. But compare it to a book which might
progress from chapters about where gender isn't, (not in the
rules for judging the seriousness of crimes, not in rationales
for punishment), to chapters which notice where gender is: in the
different responses to abuse, addiction, discouragement, and
poverty; in the use and context of violence; and in the judgments
of character made about lives which include these elements.
Such a book would then be able to suggest why a larger proportion
of men's crimes and men's characters require longer sentences. It
would also be able to consider if "seriousness of
offense" and "character" -- dimensions on which,
Daly argues, "women looked better" (p. 263) -- matter
not only when women are punished (and come out ahead) but for
general considerations of justice. Do we really want a conception
of justice that does not code a well-dressed, white female Toni
as threatening, but would code a well-dressed, black male Tony as
more threatening, his crime as more serious? It is not that Daly
does not notice these questions -- she does -- but that she does
not raise them systematically. Similarly, Daly discusses various
punishment philosophies in her section on sentencing hearings,
but these philosophies do not seem to inform the discussions of
pathways to crime, sentencing disparities, or the meaning of
discrimination.
Given the great potential of Daly's study to make sustained
arguments about gender and justice, their absence is a bit like
staring at puzzle pieces of an elephant: each piece shows that
the animal must be fascinating, but one can't see how it all fits
together. But this is still much better than the blind men's
elephant; those looking for the whole picture should begin with
Daly's book.
Copyright 1995