Life without parole*

If you’d like to know why some people — like me — favor the death penalty for some murders, consider the case of Arnold King in Massachusetts.

In 1971, this 18-year-old punk killed a promising young man, John Labanara. Labanara, 26, was an aide to the mayor of Boston at the time, Kevin White.

Labanara had just passed the bar exam. He was coming home after celebrating this terrific achievement with his friends.

What should have been one of his family’s happiest days became one of its worst. King, drunk and stoned, killed him with a shot to the head while trying to rob him.

At least King was caught and convicted. And here comes the tricky part. He was sentenced to life in prison without parole. Without parole.

Now, 36 years later, he is applying for parole. Excuse me, they’re calling it “commutation.”

His request has been unanimously supported by the Massachusetts Parole Board. (Not the Massachusetts Commutation Board.)

You could argue that King has paid his debt. He’s earned bachelor’s and master’s degrees, published articles, advised other inmates and counseled kids about the kind of mistakes he made. (Detractors also point out that he has had more than 50 disciplinary reports while in prison.)

36 years behind bars is a long time.

But King was sentenced to life without parole. Not life with parole (excuse me again, “commutation” after 36 years).

Maybe the state shouldn’t have given that sentence to an 18-year-old kid. Maybe he has served far more time than most other murderers in most other states.

But if states like Massachusetts are going to find loopholes in “life without parole” sentences, they should junk the category entirely.

If a victim’s family hears the words “life without parole,” it should mean just that.