Editorial: Free him in the name of compassion

Opinion

Proclaimed United Future MP Marc Alexander, "I just don't get it. Justice is justice."

With this, the MP conclusively rejected the case of Henry Matafeo, a prisoner with terminal cancer who wants to be released early so he can die at home. His dismissal was far too sweeping and far too swingeing. As important as justice is, it can never stand in isolation. Nor can it be devoid of compassion, a quality which, in this instance, should be exercised.

No one will argue that Matafeo did not deserve a five-year sentence for his role in a violent aggravated robbery. Or that there has been increasing public unease over the past few years about the lenient treatment of some hardened criminals.

Nonetheless, Matafeo's continued incarceration serves no rational purpose, either for him or for society.

The ultimate decision about where he lives the anticipated six to nine final months of his life will be made by the Parole Board, acting on a recommendation from the Prisons Service. No small part of that advice should hinge on the fact that the victim of Matafeo's crime supports his release. That blessing, conveyed by the police, follows an earlier meeting with Matafeo's mother for a restorative justice conference.

An early release would have been far harder to countenance had the victim not given his backing. It would have run counter to the increased emphasis on victim rights in recent legislation. That nod of support is, therefore, crucial. Certainly, it seems to have persuaded the Sensible Sentencing Trust - a manifestation of the public disquiet over the treatment of criminals - to approve release on compassionate grounds, provided all medical checks are done.

Those checks will doubtless reinforce the practical reasons for granting the wish of Matafeo's family. He is confined to a wheelchair and is highly unlikely to pose any threat to society. This is not an instance where the interests of the individual need to be balanced against the protection of society. Equally, his terminal cancer renders part of the jail equation inoperable. If imprisonment is, first, a matter of punishment, it is also about seeking to prevent reoffending. In terms of rehabilitation, prison, quite obviously, serves no purpose for Matafeo.

On another level, there is a cost to the taxpayer for keeping him incarcerated for the remainder of his life. At the moment, he is being treated at Auckland City Hospital, where he is under guard. Such security carries a heavy price tag, one that bears no logical relationship to a person who is no longer dangerous. There would be a considerable saving in money and resources if, subject to conditions, his family were to care for him.

Mr Alexander, it seems, will have none of this. "I feel sorry for him and his family ... but he still committed a crime," he says. "Why should consideration be shown to someone who showed none to his victim?"

For a further answer, he might consider the basic intent of imprisonment. And how depriving a person of his liberty has little meaning if that person is confined to a wheelchair and has only a short time to live. In such a circumstance, a humane justice system will allow that time to be spent in family surroundings.

Releasing Matafeo will not set a precedent, or open the door for a swag of other prisoners. In 2002-03, the Parole Board heard three compassionate release applications, and approved just two. Last year, it heard none. Quite correctly, compassion is exercised only in exceptional circumstances. Matafeo's case is one of those.