Testimonies from Corrections Officers

Corrections officers are often the hidden witnesses to executions. They escort prisoners to the death chamber, secure the straps, and watch the life drain away. Many enter the job believing they can handle the burden, but over time, the weight of participating in state-sanctioned killing leaves deep psychological scars.

Some corrections officers have spoken out about the trauma of their roles. They describe nightmares, flashbacks, and moral injury from carrying out executions. For many, these wounds remain long after they leave the profession, affecting their families and communities.

One former warden, who oversaw dozens of executions, has testified that no amount of training can prepare a person to kill another human being. He described the execution process as a ritual that haunts him, with every detail etched in memory. He now speaks publicly against the death penalty, calling it an act of premeditated violence by the state.

Another officer recounted how participating in executions changed his understanding of justice. While he once believed executions were necessary to deter crime, he came to see them as a cycle of violence that inflicted needless harm on staff and inmates alike. His testimony has been used in legislative hearings to highlight the human cost of capital punishment.

Executions also create a toxic work environment in prisons. Officers describe the strain of secrecy, the emotional numbing required to complete the task, and the toll on morale among staff. Some corrections departments have reported higher turnover and mental health problems among those assigned to execution teams.

Corrections officers often struggle with guilt and moral conflict. They report feeling trapped between their duty to follow orders and their personal sense that killing is wrong. This conflict can lead to depression, substance abuse, and even suicide in extreme cases.

Officers have also shared how executions can divide staff and undermine trust. Some refuse to participate, creating tension with colleagues who feel obligated to carry out the law. Others carry hidden trauma, unable to talk about their experiences due to confidentiality rules and fear of retaliation.

The mental health resources available to corrections officers are often inadequate. Few departments offer counseling or trauma support tailored to the unique burdens of carrying out executions. Those who speak out risk being ostracized or losing their jobs, deepening their isolation.

These testimonies reveal the fallacy that executions provide closure or justice. Instead, they show how capital punishment inflicts lasting harm on the very people tasked with enforcing it. Their voices add urgency to calls for abolition, highlighting the hidden victims of the death penalty system.

Some officers have joined abolitionist organizations, lending their firsthand experiences to campaigns for legislative repeal. Their moral authority and intimate knowledge of the execution process provide powerful evidence of the system’s corrosive effects.

Ultimately, corrections officers remind us that the death penalty is not just about the condemned. It reaches into the lives of those ordered to carry out the sentence, leaving moral and psychological wreckage in its wake. Abolishing the death penalty would free these officers from the burden of taking human life in the name of the state.

Their testimonies challenge society to reckon with the human cost of executions—not just to the condemned and their families, but to those in uniform who bear witness to death in the name of justice.