Little is known about Indiana's protocols for using pentobarbital, a drug used by Department of Correction officials to carry out two recent state executions. (Felipe Caparrós/Adobe Stock)
Questions remain about Benjamin Ritchie’s early Tuesday execution after his attorneys reported seeing sudden, unexpected movement during the lethal injection process.
But no members of the media were permitted to witness the execution, meaning there was no independent observation or account of what happened.
Defense attorney Steve Schutte, who viewed the execution, told the Indiana Capital Chronicle immediately after that he saw Ritchie lift his head and shoulders “violently” from the gurney shortly after the process began. Two others in Ritchie’s witness room gave similar descriptions.
Dr. Jonathan Groner, an emeritus clinical professor of surgery at the Ohio State University College of Medicine who has written extensively on the death penalty, said “that’s not what is supposed to happen” when the execution drug, pentobarbital, is used to induce death.
“Clearly, this was botched,” Groner told the Capital Chronicle, based on the limited accounts provided by Ritchie’s counsel. “It should be really, really effective — really fast. No one should move … It’s just lights out, go to sleep, no reaction, no coughing, no nothing. They just don’t move.”
Indiana’s Department of Correction (DOC) released few details about the execution.
When asked whether the pentobarbital used in Ritchie’s case worked properly, DOC spokesperson Annie Goeller told the Capital Chronicle that what Ritchie’s lawyers described “is not an accurate description of the circumstances,” and she maintained that “the execution was completed according to protocol.”
Capital Chronicle Senior Reporter Casey Smith attended Joseph Corcoran’s execution in December and did not observe any sudden movements by the inmate while blinds for a one-way window into the execution chamber were open.
Corcoran, strapped to a gurney, initially appeared awake with his eyes blinking. After a brief movement of his left hand and fingers several minutes later, he did not move again.
There is no standard definition of what constitutes a “botched” execution.
The Death Penalty Information Center (DPIC), a nonprofit based in Washington, D.C. that tracks state and federal executions, points to a 2014 book published by Amherst College professor Austin Sarat, which classifies botched executions as those in which “there is a breakdown in, or departure from,” the protocol for a particular method of execution.
It should be really, really effective — really fast. No one should move … It’s just lights out, go to sleep, no reaction, no coughing, no nothing. They just don’t move.
– Dr. Jonathan Groner, an emeritus clinical professor of surgery at the Ohio State University College of Medicine
Sarat adds that botched executions are “those involving unanticipated problems or delays that caused, at least arguably, unnecessary agony for the prisoner or that reflect gross incompetence of the executioner.”
The absence of news media, however, means the public must depend on the conflicting reports from Ritchie’s lawyers and state officials to determine what, if anything, went wrong during the execution. No other witnesses have spoken publicly about what they saw.
“Killing people is horrific, and it is the most extreme form of state power,” said Gerry Lanosga, professor of journalism at Indiana University and board member for the Indiana Coalition for Open Government. “But the only way we would know whether something goes wrong would be to have independent witnesses there who observe and can ensure that the process is carried out appropriately.”
A ‘botched’ execution?
Tuesday morning’s death sentence was carried out nearly 25 years after Ritchie shot and killed Beech Grove law enforcement officer William Toney. The condemned man had been on death row since his conviction in 2002.
Capital punishments were put on hold for 15 years in Indiana until state officials announced last year that they’d acquired pentobarbital to resume executions. The one-drug method is a departure from the state’s protocol used since 1995, involving a series of three chemicals.
Ritchie was Indiana’s second execution in six months.
Capital Chronicle reporting revealed the state paid $900,000 for execution drugs, but officials won’t say how much was purchased or if any remains after the two executions. Officials also have refused to provide information on expiration dates, storage or other details.
Lethal injection requires execution workers to administer drugs intravenously to the prisoner to stop their heart. It has become the most commonly used execution method across the country — but it’s also the method with the most recorded “botches,” or mistakes.
Robin Maher, executive director of the Death Penalty Information Center, previously told the Capital Chronicle that many of the documented botched executions in recent years have occurred because the drugs being used had expired, were contaminated, or they were administered “incorrectly.”
The Death Penalty Information Center describes at least two botched executions that have occurred in Indiana.
In October 1985, it took 17 minutes to execute William Vandiver. Still breathing after the first application of 2,300 volts, four more bursts of electricity were fired into him before he was pronounced dead, according to media reports from that time. The Indiana Department of Correction admitted the execution “did not go according to plan.”
Tommie Smith, who died by lethal injection in July 1996, also had a prolonged execution, according to the DPIC. Because of unusually small veins, it took more than an hour after the execution team began sticking needles into his body for Smith to be pronounced dead. After multiple attempts, the lethal drugs were finally injected into Smith 49 minutes after the process began. It took another 20 minutes before he was pronounced dead.
Experts and researchers generally review official documents and witness reports to confirm execution details, like whether there was evidence that a prisoner made visible or audible expressions of pain; if the inmate was still conscious after a drug was administered; or whether execution workers struggled to find a prisoner’s veins.
Schutte said Ritchie’s sudden, “violent” body movement occurred a few minutes after the witness room blinds opened. He could not hear Ritchie when it happened, nor could he see if Ritchie’s eyes were opened or closed. Schutte also was unable to see the reactions, if any, of anyone present in the execution chamber with Ritchie.
Indiana State Prison Warden Ron Neal said during court proceedings last week that DOC’s extensive planning and training requires DOC staff to practice the process at least once each week ahead of a scheduled execution.
An intravenous line is inserted “into a live (volunteer) every time” a training is held, Neal said, and the condemned inmate undergoes a medical evaluation and weekly assessments of their veins for IV access.
Witnesses did not have visibility into the execution chamber when Ritchie’s IVs were placed. DOC officials did not indicate if any issues arose during insertion.
Groner described pentobarbital as a “potent” drug that, when properly administered, should quickly render a person unconscious “without any movement.”
Pentobarbital is a fast-acting barbiturate approved by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) for specific medical uses in humans and animals. It’s commonly used as a short-term sedative to treat insomnia, as a pre-anesthetic before surgery, and as an emergency treatment for severe seizure conditions. The FDA has also approved the drug for use in animal euthanasia.
State executes death row inmate Benjamin Ritchie for fatal shooting of police officer
It is not approved for use in executions or for causing death in humans; such use is considered “off-label.”
Groner highlighted two potential issues that could have occurred during Ritchie’s execution: the quality of the drugs, and the placement of intravenous lines.
The doctor raised concerns about the unknown age and storage conditions of the pentobarbital obtained by DOC. It’s also unclear how many doses of the drug were administered.
He additionally noted that improperly placed IVs could cause pain and delay the drug’s effectiveness.
“If the drug gets under the skin instead of in the vein, it can definitely burn,” Groner said.
He stressed that a “thorough” autopsy could provide crucial insights into what, if anything, went wrong during the execution.
Indiana does not require an autopsy to be performed after an execution, though. Lawyers said they were unsure if Ritchie’s family would pay to have one done.
The U.S. Department of Justice (DOJ) recently withdrew its own one-drug execution protocol because of what former Attorney General Merrick Garland called “significant uncertainty” about whether executions using pentobarbital caused unnecessary pain and suffering.
Garland’s decision followed a multi-year review and report by the DOJ into the federal execution protocol. The report details some of the ways that using pentobarbital in an execution can cause unnecessary pain and suffering, including the risk of flash pulmonary edema — a condition in which fluid floods the lungs — and extreme pain at the injection site.
No guaranteed public access
The Capital Chronicle confirmed Ritchie had four witnesses present at the execution, which included two of his attorneys, Schutte and Mark Koselke, as well as a litigation specialist. The fourth individual, a woman, was not identified. The fifth witness spot was left unfilled.
The Capital Chronicle made numerous requests to be placed on Ritchie’s personal witness list but was denied.
A federal judge on Friday rejected a request by the Capital Chronicle and four other news outlets to pause a state law and DOC policy barring independent media witnesses.
News reporters are granted access to a designated area outside of the Indiana State Prison but are not permitted to directly witness the state’s actions — unless invited by the condemned to fill one of the five spots.
Lanosga stressed that media presence at executions is “critical” for public accountability and warned against relying solely on accounts from officials or those who side with either the victim or the condemned.
“I want a proxy there to tell me what happened,” he said. “Those official accounts are a poor substitute. I don’t want the regime telling me what happened. I don’t think we want, as citizens, a private system of justice. We want justice to be publicly carried out, and this is important for citizens, on behalf of citizens, to have witnesses there.”
He said there are “innumerable” instances in both contemporary and historic times in which official accounts about government acts small and large were later determined to be either vague, missing information, exaggerated, somehow distorted.
Lanosga maintained, too, that limited media access to executions “is part of a larger, troubling trend” of decreased public access to government actions.
“Citizens are being asked to just accept things that are being done with little access to witnessing how those things are being done,” he said.
Although executions “are gruesome” and many people might prefer “not to know details,” Lanosga said the public interest should supersede individual discomfort. Journalists, he emphasized, “ought to be present on behalf of the public.”
“It’s really important that journalists are present to bear witness to this exercise of power,” he continued. “I think the state wants us to look away from the idea of the death penalty. And maybe to a certain extent, people want to look away and not witness the death penalty being enacted, but I think it’s incumbent upon citizens, if they endorse this action — perhaps especially if they endorse this action by a state government — to acknowledge that it takes place, and to look at it.”
Indiana Capital Chronicle is part of States Newsroom, a nonprofit news network supported by grants and a coalition of donors as a 501c(3) public charity. Indiana Capital Chronicle maintains editorial independence. Contact Editor Niki Kelly for questions: info@indianacapitalchronicle.com.
