POWER AND PREJUDICE
How a little-known Tennessee law convicts Black children for murders they didn't commit
Chapter Three
Felony murder gives prosecutors immense discretion. And they’re fighting tooth and nail to keep it.
by Rebecca Cadenhead
July 27, 2026
Chapter Three
Felony murder gives prosecutors immense discretion. And they’re fighting tooth and nail to keep it.
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For the past few years, a debate has taken place in Tennessee’s Capitol about the felony murder rule. In 2025, Sen. Raumesh Akbari, a Democrat who represents parts of Memphis, introduced a bill that would reform the rule. Akbari’s bill never got a vote. Instead, it was sent to “summer study” — an informal August meeting where lawmakers talk about legislation without the ability to adopt it.
The first speaker during the summer study was Stephen Crump, executive director of the Tennessee District Attorneys General Conference, a group that functions as the voice of Tennessee’s prosecutors.
“I speak today on behalf of Tennessee’s district attorneys in strong opposition to repealing or amending the statutes that have been discussed today,” Crump began. “... These statutes are the shield for the innocent and the sword against organized violence. Weakening sends the wrong message: that in Tennessee, you can cause a death through crime and escape full accountability if you keep your hands technically clean.”
The felony murder rule is a “huge tool” for prosecutors, said Preston Shipp, a former prosecutor in the state Attorney General’s Office who now works for Fair and Just Prosecution. Shipp wasn’t surprised by Crump’s opposition to Akbari’s bill.
“Prosecutors are going to fight you any time you try to take a tool out of their toolbelt,” he said.
Video via the Tennessee General Assembly archive
District attorneys don’t have to charge someone with felony murder, even if the case qualifies, Shipp said. Prosecutors can charge them with a lesser offense instead.
For example, prosecutors could charge a youth who witnessed his friend accidentally shoot a cashier during a robbery for just the robbery. His friend could be charged with manslaughter or second-degree murder.
“If a prosecutor thinks there’s evidence of a murder charge, then it’s a murder charge,” Shipp said. “If the prosecutor thinks, ‘no, this is a manslaughter charge,’” then they will charge him with manslaughter.
Prosecutors also decide whether they will offer plea deals, Shipp added. Once prosecutors charge someone with felony murder, they have the power to give that person a choice: take the case to trial, or plead guilty to a lesser offense with a shorter sentence. Often, these plea bargains still result in decades of incarceration. Sometimes, bargains are offered on the condition that the person charged will testify against their co-defendants.
Crump said this element of discretion is what makes the felony murder rule valuable. “Prosecutors work hard to find out what really happened” during a crime, he told senators. As a result, prosecutors can use the rule to punish people who actively participated in crimes, he said, while sparing those who don’t deserve life imprisonment.
Some senators were skeptical of Crump’s argument. “How do we keep this rule from being abused?” asked Sen. Kerry Roberts, a Republican who represents a district north of Nashville. “Has it been abused in the past?”
District attorneys would not abuse the rule, Crump responded.
“The defense that somebody would have, or the protection they would have, [...] it’s within the office, with good people who are doing good things to make right decisions,” he said.
How prosecutorial discretion leads to racist outcomes
Until very recently, nobody has tracked how prosecutors use the felony murder rule in the United States.
Over the past decade, researchers have started to collect data on felony murder, at first in county-sized jurisdictions, and then for entire states. So far, the data shows that wherever the felony murder rule exists, prosecutors are more likely to use it on Black people than any other racial group.
A comprehensive study of felony murder charges in Cook County, Illinois — Chicago — found that over the last decade, prosecutors charged 768 Black people with felony murder and 80 white people.
“To the extent we can see felony murder, it almost always seems to produce quite startling racial disparities,” said Yankah, the jurist at the University of Michigan.
Extreme racial inequalities exist throughout the American criminal justice system. But even taking these disparities into account, Black people make up an unusually large share of those convicted of felony murder.
In California, for example, 6.5% of the state’s population is Black, 30% of the state’s prison population is Black, and 43% of people serving sentences for felony murder are Black, according to data collected by The Felony Murder Reporting Project.
Similarly, in Florida, 17% of the state’s population is Black, 47% of the state’s prison population is Black, and 61% of people serving sentences for felony murder are Black.
Until very recently, nobody has tracked how prosecutors use the felony murder rule in the United States.
Over the past decade, researchers have started to collect data on felony murder, at first in county-sized jurisdictions, and then for entire states. So far, the data shows that wherever the felony murder rule exists, prosecutors are more likely to use it on Black people than any other racial group.
A comprehensive study of felony murder charges in Cook County, Illinois — Chicago — found that over the last decade, prosecutors charged 768 Black people with felony murder and 80 white people.
“To the extent we can see felony murder, it almost always seems to produce quite startling racial disparities,” said Yankah, the jurist at the University of Michigan.
Extreme racial inequalities exist throughout the American criminal justice system. But even taking these disparities into account, Black people make up an unusually large share of those convicted of felony murder.
In California, for example, 6.5% of the state’s population is Black, 30% of the state’s prison population is Black, and 43% of people serving sentences for felony murder are Black, according to data collected by The Felony Murder Reporting Project.
Similarly, in Florida, 17% of the state’s population is Black, 47% of the state’s prison population is Black, and 61% of people serving sentences for felony murder are Black.
MLK50’s analysis, the first to collect any data on the use of felony murder in Tennessee, found even more extreme racial disparities.
Seventeen percent of Tennessee children are Black. Almost 90% of children convicted of felony murder were Black. Of the 104 children convicted of felony murder, 92 were Black, and 12 were white.
This level of inequality cannot be explained by the actions of Black children. MLK50 found smaller gaps between the number of white children and Black children convicted solely of premeditated murder.
Prosecutors have less discretion to charge a child with premeditated murder than with felony murder. Premeditated murder convictions require prosecutors to prove that the person intended to kill.
Fifty-four children were convicted solely of premeditated murder in Tennessee during the time period MLK50 analyzed. Of these, 29 — a little over half — were Black.
Overall, white boys are far more likely to be convicted of first-degree murder than Black girls in Tennessee, MLK50 found.
But the state’s felony murder rule is used in such a racially biased manner that more Black girls were convicted under the rule than white boys.
Thirty white boys have been convicted of first-degree murder — 10 were convicted under the felony murder rule.
Sixteen Black girls have been convicted of first-degree murder — 11 were convicted under the felony murder rule.
Yankah suspects that these disparities are because a prosecutor’s charging decisions may be influenced by the race of the child.
“There’s a lot of evidence [...] that when people are faced with the same scenarios, and they’re given Black actors versus white actors, they just think the Black actors are more blameworthy,” said Yankah.
Shipp, the former Tennessee state prosecutor, offered a similar assessment.
“Having worked in a racist system [...], trying to deal with my own racism, I think I have to admit that prosecutors, police, judges just look at Black people differently,” he said. “They view them as inherently more dangerous and more culpable.”
When white prosecutors evaluate a young white person who has committed a felony, “they’ll say, ‘we don’t want to ruin this white kid’s life,’” he added. “Whereas with a young Black kid, they’ll say, ‘he’s already a criminal.’ They already see him as some sort of a hardened criminal.”
Yankah suspects that these disparities are because a prosecutor’s charging decisions may be influenced by the race of the child.
“There’s a lot of evidence [...] that when people are faced with the same scenarios, and they’re given Black actors versus white actors, they just think the Black actors are more blameworthy,” said Yankah.
Shipp, the former Tennessee state prosecutor, offered a similar assessment.
“Having worked in a racist system [...], trying to deal with my own racism, I think I have to admit that prosecutors, police, judges just look at Black people differently,” he said. “They view them as inherently more dangerous and more culpable.”
When white prosecutors evaluate a young white person who has committed a felony, “they’ll say, ‘we don’t want to ruin this white kid’s life,’” he added. “Whereas with a young Black kid, they’ll say, ‘he’s already a criminal.’ They already see him as some sort of a hardened criminal.”
Bill Gibbons’ ‘No Deals’ policy
More children have been convicted of felony murder in Shelby County than anywhere else in Tennessee, MLK50 found. Only 15% of Tennesseans live in Shelby County, but 41% of children convicted of felony murder in Tennessee were prosecuted here.
Of the 43 children convicted of felony murder in Shelby County, 42 were Black.
For most of the time period MLK50 analyzed, Bill Gibbons was the county’s district attorney. Gibbons took office in 1996. At the time, “people were very concerned about juveniles committing adult crimes,” said Kevin Rardin, who worked as an assistant district attorney in Gibbons’ office. Throughout Memphis, “the saying was, ‘if you commit an adult crime you should do adult time.’”
In 1995, a Princeton professor named John J. DiIulio Jr. coined the term “superpredator” to describe teenagers he blamed for America’s violent crime problem. The term caught on, though the concept has since been discredited. In 1996, then-First Lady Hillary Clinton used the same term to describe youth who she said possessed “no conscience, no empathy.”
Local prosecutors reacted to these concerns about “superpredators,” Rardin said. “District attorneys are, in most states, elected public officials [...], they respond to public pressure,” he said.
Almost immediately after he took office, Gibbons instituted a new, tough-on-crime policy. His prosecutors would not offer plea agreements to anyone — adults or children — charged with rape, robbery or murder.
In a 1997 Commercial Appeal op-ed that explained the policy, Gibbons argued that the city’s crime problem had become so bad that Memphians were “fighting for the future of our community.”
Gibbons wrote that the no-deals policy would deter crime. When faced with decades of incarceration, would-be offenders would think twice about breaking the law, he said.
In a written statement, Gibbons told MLK50 that under the policy, prosecutors only charged people when they assessed there was enough evidence to convict them. Once charged, his office would only offer deals if there was “an ethical or legal reason to do so … such a reason would be key witnesses recanting on their version of what happened,” he said.
In other parts of the state, prosecutors frequently offered plea deals to those charged with felony murder, allowing them to avoid life sentences, Deaner said.
But while Gibbons was in office, Shelby County prosecutors rarely offered such deals. In this article, there have been a few examples of prosecutors offering a child a plea bargain. These either took place outside of Shelby County or before Gibbons was in office.
Gibbons’ District Attorney’s Office relied heavily on the felony murder rule to prosecute children, MLK50 found. Of all the children convicted of murder during his tenure, 73% were convicted of felony murder. Gibbons did not address an MLK50 question about this finding.
“The thought was, ‘We can lock them up and put them away,’” said Rardin, who was tasked with handling juvenile court cases under Gibbons. “That will get rid of the person who is locked up and will deter anyone else who has the idea of committing a violent crime.”
Sometimes, Shelby County prosecutors made exceptions to their “no deals” policy, Rardin said. If a child had enough money to hire a private attorney — “somebody the prosecutor knows, somebody the prosecutor respects and somebody the prosecutor likes” — prosecutors might offer that child a plea bargain anyway.
Shawn Hatcher, who was prosecuted when Gibbons was district attorney, was never offered a plea bargain.
But things were different for one of his co-defendants, Cornelius Jefferson. Jefferson, like Shawn and Chris Hatcher, was initially charged with felony murder. But unlike Shawn and Chris, Jefferson’s family could afford to hire a private attorney.
That attorney made a deal with Shelby County prosecutors. In exchange for a conviction on a less serious offense, Jefferson would testify against Shawn and Chris. Jefferson received eight years.
MLK50 was not able to speak with Jefferson for this article.
When asked whether his office offered plea deals to children with private attorneys, Gibbons said, “The notion that defendants with private attorneys could plea bargain their violent crime cases is absurd.”
In the past 25 years, only one white child has been convicted of felony murder in Shelby County. That child, a white teenager who killed a Black man, later had his conviction overturned. He received a new trial and was offered a plea deal by prosecutors, which he accepted.
“Most of the offenders we’re talking about are young Black teens,” Rardin said. By contrast, the prosecutors in the District Attorney’s Office were largely white. “Many white people are a little afraid of those boys. [...] The child may be a child. He may be a boy, but in the minds of some white people, they’re looking at someone who can kill them.”
When asked about Rardin’s comments, Gibbons told MLK50, “The notion that we somehow applied a different standard to Black children is absurd. Decisions were made based on the facts and the law.”
Prosecutors need to believe their charging decisions are justified, said Shipp. “When you’re taking away 10 years of somebody’s life, or 20 or 30 or 50, or the death penalty, you better believe that you're getting it right, or else you’re gonna drive yourself crazy,” he said. “The way that prosecutors are able to do that job and still sleep at night is by believing that the system is working and that those people deserve every bad thing that happens to them.”
Rardin began to change his views after he left the prosecutor’s office and started working as a juvenile public defender. His clients “were so damaged in their tender years,” he said. “I realized that in many cases, I was just as much of a criminal as the people I was prosecuting.”
Gibbons was re-elected in 1998 and 2006, and served as Shelby County district attorney for 14 years. He is currently the executive director of the Public Safety Institute at the University of Memphis, and president of the Memphis-Shelby County Crime Commission, an organization that advocates for “best practices to prevent and reduce crime.”
Bill Gibbons during the fourth Unity Walk Against Gun Violence at Hamilton High School. Brad Vest / MLK50 archive
Bill Gibbons during the fourth Unity Walk Against Gun Violence at Hamilton High School. Brad Vest / MLK50 archive
Gibbons’ eventual successor, Amy Weirich, served most of her career as a prosecutor in his office. Weirich later became infamous for prosecuting more children as adults — almost all of whom were Black — than every other district attorney in the state of Tennessee combined.
When asked about racial disparities in felony murder prosecutions, Gibbons said, “The DA’s office does not decide the race of those who are charged with violent crimes … I’m saying the obvious, but Black-on-Black violent crime is a serious challenge in Memphis.”
In the past 25 years, only one white child has been convicted of felony murder in Shelby County. That child, a white teenager who killed a Black man, later had his conviction overturned. He received a new trial and was offered a plea deal by prosecutors, which he accepted.
“Most of the offenders we’re talking about are young Black teens,” Rardin said. By contrast, the prosecutors in the District Attorney’s Office were largely white. “Many white people are a little afraid of those boys. [...] The child may be a child. He may be a boy, but in the minds of some white people, they’re looking at someone who can kill them.”
When asked about Rardin’s comments, Gibbons told MLK50, “The notion that we somehow applied a different standard to Black children is absurd. Decisions were made based on the facts and the law.”
Prosecutors need to believe their charging decisions are justified, said Shipp. “When you’re taking away 10 years of somebody’s life, or 20 or 30 or 50, or the death penalty, you better believe that you're getting it right, or else you’re gonna drive yourself crazy,” he said. “The way that prosecutors are able to do that job and still sleep at night is by believing that the system is working and that those people deserve every bad thing that happens to them.”
Rardin began to change his views after he left the prosecutor’s office and started working as a juvenile public defender. His clients “were so damaged in their tender years,” he said. “I realized that in many cases, I was just as much of a criminal as the people I was prosecuting.”
Gibbons was re-elected in 1998 and 2006, and served as Shelby County district attorney for 14 years. He is currently the executive director of the Public Safety Institute at the University of Memphis, and president of the Memphis-Shelby County Crime Commission, an organization that advocates for “best practices to prevent and reduce crime.”
Bill Gibbons during the fourth Unity Walk Against Gun Violence at Hamilton High School. Brad Vest / MLK50 archive
Bill Gibbons during the fourth Unity Walk Against Gun Violence at Hamilton High School. Brad Vest / MLK50 archive
Gibbons’ eventual successor, Amy Weirich, served most of her career as a prosecutor in his office. Weirich later became infamous for prosecuting more children as adults — almost all of whom were Black — than every other district attorney in the state of Tennessee combined.
When asked about racial disparities in felony murder prosecutions, Gibbons said, “The DA’s office does not decide the race of those who are charged with violent crimes … I’m saying the obvious, but Black-on-Black violent crime is a serious challenge in Memphis.”
Felony murder’s
tough-on-crime origins
Felony murder wasn’t always used this way. American law students are often taught a simple narrative about the felony murder rule. It is a concept inherited from English settlers, who established laws and courts in what would become the United States.
For decades, American courts and lawmakers have argued that because the felony murder rule is ancient, it can’t be changed, said Guyora Binder, a professor at the University of Buffalo’s Law School and an expert in felony murder. They have claimed that “there are no limits to this felony murder rule, because that must have been the legislative intent in passing such a rule,” he said.
But when Binder looked into the rule’s history, he found that the predominant story about felony murder — that it is ancient and unchanging — is wrong.
While the concept of felony murder has existed for several centuries, it wasn’t regularly applied until several decades after the United States separated from England, said Binder.
American states gradually adopted the concept of felony murder in the 19th century. These laws were far more restrictive than the felony murder rules that exist today, said Binder. For most of American history, someone who did not kill anyone could not have been charged with felony murder.
That changed during the mid-20th century, Binder said.
“In the middle of the war on crime, courts were expanding felony murder,” he said. Across the country, legislatures and courts changed their felony murder rules to allow more people to be prosecuted.
“They were using the argument that, ‘well, everybody knows felony murder doesn’t require any culpable mental state towards death at all. Its purpose is just to deter felonies,” he said.
To this day, supporters of the felony murder rule argue that it discourages criminals.
“The rule is a clear, bright-line deterrent,” Crump told Tennessee state senators during their August 2025 hearing on felony murder. “If you don't want to risk a murder charge, then don't commit the felony in the first place.”
In reality, there is no evidence that the felony murder rule deters crime, said Binder.
“An awful lot of people are totally taken by surprise when they learn about the felony murder rule,” he said. “They obviously can’t be deterred by it if they don’t know about it.”
Kentucky, one of Tennessee’s neighbors, effectively does not have a felony murder rule. Arkansas, another neighbor, limits felony murder charges to those who have “a mental state [...] to engage in some life-threatening activity against the victim.” Both states have lower murder rates than Tennessee.
A spokesperson for Crump did not provide an answer when MLK50 asked about felony murder’s deterrent effect. “Our position remains clear: when criminals work together to commit violent felonies and a life is taken, every participant should be held to the same standard of accountability in the criminal justice system,” the spokesperson wrote.
Illustration by Sri Velrajan for MLK50
Illustration by Sri Velrajan for MLK50
Other supporters of Tennessee’s felony murder rule argue that it inflicts an appropriate punishment for crimes, consistent with the rest of the state’s criminal justice system.
“Other aspects of our criminal justice system treat this the same way,” said Sen. Brent Taylor, a Republican who represents parts of Shelby County, during the August 2025 hearing. “If I go out tonight and hang out at a bar, and I get drunk and get on the road [...] and I get in a wreck and kill somebody, well, I didn't mean to kill anybody, but I'm going to be charged appropriately, because somebody's dead.”
Part of Taylor’s statement is accurate. Someone who kills a person while driving drunk is punished more harshly than if they were sober. But in Tennessee, the punishment for this crime is “not even close” to felony murder, said Shipp, the former prosecutor.
Someone convicted of “vehicular homicide by intoxication” will be incarcerated for anywhere between eight and 30 years. But somebody convicted of felony murder will always receive a life sentence.
Indeed, Akbari, whose bill sparked the August 2025 meeting, wanted to reduce the punishment for felony murder so that it would look more like the punishment for other offenses in Tennessee's legal code.
Most felony murder cases result from unplanned killings, Akbari pointed out. Tennessee law already outlines a punishment for unintended, reckless killings: second-degree murder.
Imagine, for example, that somebody throws a boulder over an overpass. “Let’s say they don’t particularly care whether or not it hits somebody, and it does hit somebody and kills them,” said Yankah, the University of Michigan professor. “In those cases, you might think, ‘well, they didn't intend to kill or murder, but that action is so terrible that we might think it’s as bad.’”
In all likelihood, Tennessee prosecutors would charge the boulder-thrower with second-degree murder, said Shipp. If convicted, they would be sentenced to a minimum of 15 years in prison.
Prosecutors cannot charge the boulder-thrower with felony murder, because they did not kill someone during a felony, said Shipp. Prosecutors also cannot charge the boulder-thrower with premeditated murder, because the killing was not planned, he added.
In other words, Shawn Hatcher could have plotted to kill someone for months, shot him in cold blood, and he would have received the same sentence — life in prison. But if he had personally killed someone by carelessly launching a rock onto his head, he would have faced less punishment than the real-life scenario, in which he killed no one.
Akbari’s bill would reclassify felony murder as second-degree murder, instead of first-degree murder. Although second-degree murder is still a harsh punishment, she said, a modest reform would be more likely to receive support from other legislators.
State senators Raumesh Akbari and Brent Taylor at a Senate Judiciary hearing on Aug. 14, 2025. Video via the Tennessee General Assembly archive
Taylor said he was not convinced. “These aren’t choirboys that we’re talking about,” Taylor said. “These are people who had the intent. They decided they were going to commit a violent crime, and they went and committed a violent crime.”
Other lawmakers reacted in a more measured way. They were curious about amending the rule, but they wanted more information. Did anybody have any data on this? They asked over and over. No one did.
By the end of the summer study, Akbari was encouraged. During the 2026 legislative session, she successfully partnered with several Republicans to slightly limit the extent to which Tennesseans can be held responsible for crimes committed by other people.
But the larger reform Akbari had hoped for — reclassifying felony murder — didn’t happen. She decided to hold her bill. Her Republican colleagues wouldn’t vote for it, she said.
Currently, it is very difficult to do criminal justice reform in Tennessee, said Akbari. In the wake of the pandemic, crime rates briefly climbed across the country, and then dropped to record lows. Lawmakers are still responding to that short-lived increase.
“This concept of tough on crime [...] is back in Tennessee, and very popular,” she said.
Felony murder wasn’t always used this way. American law students are often taught a simple narrative about the felony murder rule. It is a concept inherited from English settlers, who established laws and courts in what would become the United States.
For decades, American courts and lawmakers have argued that because the felony murder rule is ancient, it can’t be changed, said Guyora Binder, a professor at the University of Buffalo’s Law School and an expert in felony murder. They have claimed that “there are no limits to this felony murder rule, because that must have been the legislative intent in passing such a rule,” he said.
But when Binder looked into the rule’s history, he found that the predominant story about felony murder — that it is ancient and unchanging — is wrong.
While the concept of felony murder has existed for several centuries, it wasn’t regularly applied until several decades after the United States separated from England, said Binder.
American states gradually adopted the concept of felony murder in the 19th century. These laws were far more restrictive than the felony murder rules that exist today, said Binder. For most of American history, someone who did not kill anyone could not have been charged with felony murder.
That changed during the mid-20th century, Binder said.
“In the middle of the war on crime, courts were expanding felony murder,” he said. Across the country, legislatures and courts changed their felony murder rules to allow more people to be prosecuted.
“They were using the argument that, ‘well, everybody knows felony murder doesn’t require any culpable mental state towards death at all. Its purpose is just to deter felonies,” he said.
To this day, supporters of the felony murder rule argue that it discourages criminals.
“The rule is a clear, bright-line deterrent,” Crump told Tennessee state senators during their August 2025 hearing on felony murder. “If you don't want to risk a murder charge, then don't commit the felony in the first place.”
In reality, there is no evidence that the felony murder rule deters crime, said Binder.
“An awful lot of people are totally taken by surprise when they learn about the felony murder rule,” he said. “They obviously can’t be deterred by it if they don’t know about it.”
Kentucky, one of Tennessee’s neighbors, effectively does not have a felony murder rule. Arkansas, another neighbor, limits felony murder charges to those who have “a mental state [...] to engage in some life-threatening activity against the victim.” Both states have lower murder rates than Tennessee.
A spokesperson for Crump did not provide an answer when MLK50 asked about felony murder’s deterrent effect. “Our position remains clear: when criminals work together to commit violent felonies and a life is taken, every participant should be held to the same standard of accountability in the criminal justice system,” the spokesperson wrote.
Illustration by Sri Velrajan for MLK50
Illustration by Sri Velrajan for MLK50
Other supporters of Tennessee’s felony murder rule argue that it inflicts an appropriate punishment for crimes, consistent with the rest of the state’s criminal justice system.
“Other aspects of our criminal justice system treat this the same way,” said Sen. Brent Taylor, a Republican who represents parts of Shelby County, during the August 2025 hearing. “If I go out tonight and hang out at a bar, and I get drunk and get on the road [...] and I get in a wreck and kill somebody, well, I didn't mean to kill anybody, but I'm going to be charged appropriately, because somebody's dead.”
Part of Taylor’s statement is accurate. Someone who kills a person while driving drunk is punished more harshly than if they were sober. But in Tennessee, the punishment for this crime is “not even close” to felony murder, said Shipp, the former prosecutor.
Someone convicted of “vehicular homicide by intoxication” will be incarcerated for anywhere between eight and 30 years. But somebody convicted of felony murder will always receive a life sentence.
Indeed, Akbari, whose bill sparked the August 2025 meeting, wanted to reduce the punishment for felony murder so that it would look more like the punishment for other offenses in Tennessee's legal code.
Most felony murder cases result from unplanned killings, Akbari pointed out. Tennessee law already outlines a punishment for unintended, reckless killings: second-degree murder.
Imagine, for example, that somebody throws a boulder over an overpass. “Let’s say they don’t particularly care whether or not it hits somebody, and it does hit somebody and kills them,” said Yankah, the University of Michigan professor. “In those cases, you might think, ‘well, they didn't intend to kill or murder, but that action is so terrible that we might think it’s as bad.’”
In all likelihood, Tennessee prosecutors would charge the boulder-thrower with second-degree murder, said Shipp. If convicted, they would be sentenced to a minimum of 15 years in prison.
Prosecutors cannot charge the boulder-thrower with felony murder, because they did not kill someone during a felony, said Shipp. Prosecutors also cannot charge the boulder-thrower with premeditated murder, because the killing was not planned, he added.
In other words, Shawn Hatcher could have plotted to kill someone for months, shot him in cold blood, and he would have received the same sentence — life in prison. But if he had personally killed someone by carelessly launching a rock onto his head, he would have faced less punishment than the real-life scenario, in which he killed no one.
Akbari’s bill would reclassify felony murder as second-degree murder, instead of first-degree murder. Although second-degree murder is still a harsh punishment, she said, a modest reform would be more likely to receive support from other legislators.
State senators Raumesh Akbari and Brent Taylor at a Senate Judiciary hearing on Aug. 14, 2025. Video via the Tennessee General Assembly archive
Taylor said he was not convinced. “These aren’t choirboys that we’re talking about,” Taylor said. “These are people who had the intent. They decided they were going to commit a violent crime, and they went and committed a violent crime.”
Other lawmakers reacted in a more measured way. They were curious about amending the rule, but they wanted more information. Did anybody have any data on this? They asked over and over. No one did.
By the end of the summer study, Akbari was encouraged. During the 2026 legislative session, she successfully partnered with several Republicans to slightly limit the extent to which Tennesseans can be held responsible for crimes committed by other people.
But the larger reform Akbari had hoped for — reclassifying felony murder — didn’t happen. She decided to hold her bill. Her Republican colleagues wouldn’t vote for it, she said.
Currently, it is very difficult to do criminal justice reform in Tennessee, said Akbari. In the wake of the pandemic, crime rates briefly climbed across the country, and then dropped to record lows. Lawmakers are still responding to that short-lived increase.
“This concept of tough on crime [...] is back in Tennessee, and very popular,” she said.
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Power and Prejudice
Credits
Reporter
Rebecca Cadenhead
Multimedia Producer
Meghnad Bose
Illustrator
Sri Velrajan
Creative Director
Andrea Morales
Fact-checker
Stephanie Wilson
Project Editor
Charity L. Scott
This project was produced as a project for the USC Annenberg Center for Health Journalism’s 2025 Data Fellowship.
Reporting and fact-checking was contributed by The Felony Murder Reporting Project.
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