What Paris in Jail Says About the Justice System

If prison's purpose is to punish, protect and deter, the journeys of Paris Hilton and Genarlow Wilson leave you wondering whether Justice, far from being blind, needs her vision checked. The reckless white heiress was all but impossible to lock up; the vindicated black honor student is impossible to set free.

We know Paris' story all too well: celebutante on probation for drunk driving is caught going twice the speed limit with no headlights and a suspended license; sentenced to 45 days, she's released after three by a softhearted--or perhaps lightheaded--sheriff, only to be ordered back by an irate judge amid a storm of public outrage and media glee. But even then it is not to the county lockup she is remanded but to a special medical facility, for an unspecified ailment, at 10 times the cost of regular jail.

Genarlow's case tips the scales the other way. Georgia citizens were so troubled when the homecoming king was sentenced to 10 years for having consensual oral sex with his underage girlfriend (he was 17, she was 15), the state legislature amended Georgia's child-protection act to reduce the offense to a misdemeanor. But Genarlow remains in jail after 28 months because lawmakers did not make the change retroactive. Jimmy Carter spoke out for leniency. On June 11, a judge ordered Genarlow released, citing a "grave miscarriage of justice." His mother called it a miracle. But still he sits in jail, since the state attorney general vows to appeal, saying the judge went too far.

Maybe every prisoner has a story, and most will never get told. But these two throb with irony and pity: Paris' punishment, captured for the ages as she cried, "Mom! It's not right," on the way to jail, fits her crime; it serves to protect the public, since nothing short of jail appeared sufficient to keep her from getting behind the wheel. The deterrent value for other heiresses who are tempted to run off the road remains to be seen. Genarlow, though, is generally viewed as undeserving of his sentence, unthreatening to public safety, his example useless as a deterrent because his conduct is no longer considered a felony. The public outcry over both cases was heartening, if naive. We want justice to be blind to privilege but open to mercy. It feels at times as if we are only halfway there.