Happy Friday, friends.

Lately I’ve been digging more into nonfiction as part of my reading journey. Fantasy will always be my go-to for escapism, but I’ve also been wanting to read more books that help me better understand the world around me.

I actually finished Just Mercy back in February, but it took me a minute to sit with everything before writing this review. Some books need a little time to process, and this was definitely one of them.

So today I’m finally sharing my thoughts. Whether nonfiction is normally your thing or not, I hope you’ll stick around and explore this one with me.

Official Synopsis

An unforgettable true story about the potential for mercy to redeem us, and a clarion call to end mass incarceration in America — from one of the most inspiring lawyers of our time.

Bryan Stevenson was a young lawyer when he founded the Equal Justice Initiative, a nonprofit law office in Montgomery, Alabama, dedicated to defending the poor, the incarcerated, and the wrongly condemned.

Just Mercy tells the story of EJI, from the early days with a small staff facing the nation’s highest death sentencing and execution rates, through a successful campaign to challenge the cruel practice of sentencing children to die in prison, to revolutionary projects designed to confront Americans with our history of racial injustice.

One of EJI’s first clients was Walter McMillian, a young Black man who was sentenced to die for the murder of a young white woman that he didn’t commit. The case exemplifies how the death penalty in America is a direct descendant of lynching — a system that treats the rich and guilty better than the poor and innocent.

My Thoughts…

I first heard about Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption by Bryan Stevenson when the film adaptation starring Michael B. Jordan (I hope he wins the Oscar for Best Actor this year!) was released in 2019. I remember watching the movie and legitimately crying from the stories and injustice I was seeing unfold. Since then, this book has been sitting on my TBR, and I’ve finally picked it up. After reading it, what stayed with me most wasn’t just the individual cases Stevenson shares, but the uncomfortable reminder that this is an ongoing and heartbreaking issue in our society.

Just Mercy covers the story of Walter McMillian, a Black man in Alabama who was wrongfully convicted and sentenced to death for a murder he did not commit. His case forms the backbone of the book, but it quickly becomes clear that McMillian’s story is not the only one Stevenson is trying to tell. Instead, it becomes the connecting point for other stories of innocent individuals, or convictions where the punishments were incredibly harsh.

As Stevenson introduces more cases, similar themes continue to surface:

Biases regarding poverty and race
Inadequate legal representation for those who need it most
Mental illness that is largely ignored in the “justice” system
A system that repeatedly fails the people who are least equipped to defend themselves within it.

One of the most frustrating realizations while reading Just Mercy is how often injustice persists even when there are opportunities to correct or reverse these travesties.

Appeals are filed.

New lawyers take interest in cases.

Evidence surfaces that calls earlier decisions into question.

Yet, instead of doing the right thing, individuals often double down to protect a broken system or to openly display their racism while using the “law” as their shield.

Watching those moments unfold was infuriating, because it revealed how easily a system that claims to seek justice can become more concerned with protecting itself.

What becomes increasingly clear throughout the book is that when humanity, respect, and dignity are removed from a justice system, what remains cannot truly be called justice.

Instead, it becomes something capable of misplacing, punishing, and ultimately destroying the lives of the most vulnerable members of our society. The cases Stevenson presents repeatedly illustrate how people who are poor, marginalized, mentally ill, or simply lacking adequate legal representation can be swept into a system that treats them as disposable.

At the same time, Stevenson never allows the book to collapse into cynicism (which I think speaks to his character, because I don’t know if I could do the same…). His own dedication to his clients stands out in a remarkable way. In many of these cases, he is often the only person willing to treat the accused with dignity and respect. His work through the Equal Justice Initiative serves as a reminder that justice is not simply about laws and procedures, but about recognizing the humanity of the people caught within the system.

Perhaps one of the most unsettling realizations while reading this book is how invisible many of these stories are. Case after case reveals injustices that most people outside the legal system rarely hear about. By the time I finished the book, I found myself wondering why these conversations are not more visible in our media and why we are not encouraged to engage with these issues earlier in our lives (personally, I absolutely think this is intentional). The stories Stevenson tells are not distant historical events. Many of them are recent enough to remind readers that these issues are not confined to the past.

It is not an easy book to read, but it is an important one. Just Mercy forces readers to look more closely at a system that some people (dare I say, privileged individuals?) rarely encounter firsthand, and in doing so, it invites us to reflect not only on how justice is administered, but on what justice should truly look like in the first place.

Let’s Talk About It…

One of the things I love most about reading is the conversations that come afterward. Just Mercy raises a lot of difficult questions about justice, humanity, and accountability, and I’d love to hear your thoughts.

1. When a system repeatedly demonstrates its capacity for error, bias, and failure, can we really trust the “justice” it deals out?

2. Bryan Stevenson argues that recognizing the humanity of the accused is essential to true justice. How do we balance accountability for crimes with compassion and dignity for the people involved?

3. Many of the cases in Just Mercy involve people who lacked adequate legal representation or resources. How much do you think poverty influences outcomes in the justice system?

4. Stevenson talks about the importance of “proximity” in understanding injustice. Do you think society would think differently about the justice system if more people were exposed to stories like these?

5. If you’ve read Just Mercy, what moment or case from the book stayed with you the most?

What’s Up Next…

While I’ve been digging into more nonfiction lately, my Sarah J. Maas rereads are still going strong, so there will definitely be more updates from those soon.

I’m also planning a dystopian review when I finish writing up my thoughts on To Cage a Wild Bird. And another review I’m really looking forward to sharing is It Can’t Happen Here, a novel written in 1935 that somehow feels like essential reading for today.