I spend my days sitting across from people who have done time. They have been judged, sentenced, and locked behind bars for breaking the law. I also spend my days facing polished doors in Montgomery, where a different kind of lawbreaker expects never to see the inside of a cell.
Leigh Gwathney has served as chair of Alabama’s Board of Pardons and Paroles since 2019, appointed by the governor to lead an agency that holds extraordinary power over who goes home and who stays locked away. Under her leadership, the Board’s parole grant rate has fallen to historic lows. Thousands of people, many elderly or chronically ill, have watched hearings come and go with little explanation beyond a checklist. This trend has increased hopelessness in the Alabama Department of corrections. Whatever your views on grace, mercy or redemption, everyone in the public should care about what I call The Gwathney Effect. A hopeless person is a dangerous person. Just ask Commissioner Hamm whether he has noticed a shift in violence and drug use. Hopeless people are not trying to rehabilitate themselves. And yet most of them will be released at some point. What is more, it turns out that keeping people in cages is expensive, and the effective shutdown of the Parole Board for years has massively bloated the prison population and increased the public’s tax burden.
I recently filed a lawsuit against Gwathney for neglecting duties that are not optional. Alabama law is clear: a Board member who neglects these mandatory duties shall be removed and can face one to five years in prison under Alabama Code §§ 15‑22‑24 and 36‑9‑2…