Alex Friedmann explains how a plea bargain can pressure defendants into accepting life without parole simply to escape harsh pretrial confinement.

Why would a defendant plead guilty, giving up his right to a trial and appeals, in exchange for a sentence of life without parole (LWOP)? The obvious answer is to avoid imposition of the only harsher sentence, namely the death penalty. But one of my friends pleaded guilty for an LWOP sentence even though he wasn’t charged with a capital crime.

I met Martin “Tex” Montemayor when we were both housed in Unit 1 at the Riverbend Maximum Security Institution in Nashville. Of Mexican ancestry, he was an old-school convict who served many years in Texas prisons when conditions were much more brutal than they are today. He’d slain two of his fellow inmates, but given the kill-or-be-killed context of life behind bars at the time, I didn’t hold that against him.

Heavily tattooed and in good shape despite his 50-plus years, he reminded me of actor Danny Trejo if Trejo was shorter and had a bushy beard. Tex was likable and down to earth, and we became friends of a sort—the type of friendship that develops in a lockdown unit where you mostly yell back and forth from behind steel doors and only see each other in separate recreation cages a few times a week.

Following a suicide attempt at a local jail, Tex had been sent to Riverbend as a “safekeeper,” or pretrial detainee held in state prison. He was facing trial on a homicide charge for murdering his wife, which he said happened during an alcohol-induced blackout. Tex didn’t deny killing her, but he objected to being charged with first degree murder. His crime wasn’t premeditated, he insisted. Like many convicts, Tex was willing to take responsibility for what he did, but balked at being accused of something he didn’t do.

Prolonged periods of pretrial detention, however, tend to wear down a defendant’s resistance to accepting a plea bargain—a fact well-known to prosecutors. The conditions of confinement in most jails are uniformly poor, with little in the way of programs, jobs, or other ways to occupy one’s time. Time spent in jail is typically spent staring at the walls, watching daytime TV shows, and playing endless games of spades or hearts—day after day, month after month, year after year.

Riverbend was even worse. Prisoners in Unit 1, a supermax unit, remained locked in their cells 23 hours a day during the week and all day on weekends. While there was supposed to be one hour of recreation time in outdoor cages Monday through Friday, in practice, rec was only provided two or three times a week. Inmates ate and showered alone in their cells. No programs were available for safekeepers, who remained in segregation until they went to trial or pleaded guilty. One counselor told me that prison staff were essentially babysitters, though few babysitters I know keep their charges in solitary confinement.

Tex arrived at Riverbed in early July 2020. After 21 months in Unit 1, he told me his trial date had been postponed until mid-2023. Rather than spend another year under extremely harsh conditions in segregation, he pleaded guilty to second degree murder in exchange for LWOP. His time in solitary had finally worn him down, though he at least prevailed in one sense: Second degree murder doesn’t include the element of premeditation.

In accepting LWOP, Tex was aware he would never be released and would eventually die behind bars. As he put it, “I was already at my wit’s end. Why subject myself to another year of this stress, when the best I could hope for was voluntary manslaughter at a jury trial, and my sentence would amount to a life sentence, considering my age.” He thus pleaded guilty with a clear conscience, which is more than most defendants can say.

The reality of our criminal justice system is that jury trials have become a rarity. Around 95% of all criminal cases are resolved by please bargains, in part due to the amount of power prosecutors wield in terms of the type and number of charges a defendant faces, as well as draconian sentences that often apply if they lose at trial—the so-called “trial penalty.” The fact that the vast majority of defendants are in fact guilty is a factor, too.

U.S. Supreme Court Justice Anthony Kennedy stated in Lafler v. Cooper, “Criminal justice today is for the most part a system of please, not a system of trial.” A 2018 study by Henderson and Levett concluded that “pretrial detention significantly influenced plea decisions,” which any defendant held in jail for an extended period of time could confirm, despite lacking a doctoral degree.

Yet there is something inherently wrong with our justice system when someone pleads guilty for a sentence of life without parole, just to escape the oppressive conditions of their pretrial confinement. Incarcerating defendants under harsh conditions for lengthy periods of time while they await trial and are presumed to be innocent is a boon for prosecutors, as it makes plea deals more likely. But it places a heavy thumb on the scales held by lady justice, who, blindfolded, can’t see the unjust results.

I wish Tex well as he serves his LWOP sentence. But in assessing his future behind the walls, he candidly observed, “I don’t see myself growing old in here.” Amen, brother.

Note: Tex requested that his full name be used.