Texas Pilot Program Allows for Less Restrictive Conditions for Some on Death Row for First Time in Decades

Recent report­ing from the Houston Chronicle describes a pilot pro­gram begun in February of last year which has allowed a select group of pris­on­ers on Texas’ death row the oppor­tu­ni­ty to expe­ri­ence loos­ened con­fine­ment con­di­tions. About a dozen indi­vid­u­als on Texas’ death row are being allowed to min­gle in a com­mon room, share meals, and spend time out­side of their cells with­out hand­cuffs or shack­les. As the Chronicle reports, ​“instead of shout­ing to each oth­er through cell vents and meal slots, they can lock eyes with their friends when they speak.” Since 1998, fol­low­ing a death row escape, Texas prison offi­cials have held those on the state’s death row in soli­tary con­fine­ment and denied them access to prison jobs and rehabilitative programs. 

According to Daniel Dickerson, for­mer Texas death row prison war­den who urged the cre­ation of this pilot, pro­grams of this kind encour­age good behav­ior. But it also helps improve men­tal health. Since its start, prison offi­cials have not report­ed any fights or escapes, drug over­dos­es or seizures — prob­lems preva­lent in the gen­er­al pop­u­la­tion. Studies show that long-term stays in soli­tary con­fine­ment lead to ​“mem­o­ry prob­lems, pan­ic attacks, para­noia and psy­chosis” as well as an increased risk of ear­ly death and self-harm. The United Nations has stat­ed pro­longed or indef­i­nite soli­tary con­fine­ment amounts to tor­ture, but most pris­on­ers sen­tenced to death in the U.S. are con­fined to these con­di­tions for years. The Chronicle reports that some of the men in the pro­gram have ​“seen improve­ments in their friends’ men­tal health, with few­er signs of the para­noia and hal­lu­ci­na­tions that research shows extreme iso­la­tion can exacerbate.” 

One par­tic­i­pant in the pro­gram, Rudy Medrano, on Texas’ death row since 2005, told the Chronicle that ​“all of these changes have giv­en guys hope.” Mr. Medrano said he ​“would rather be in a barn with farm ani­mals than the way it was” on death row, adding ​“it was just dark.” Like Mr. Medrano, Robert Roberson, who has spent two decades in soli­tary con­fine­ment despite main­tain­ing his inno­cence in the 2002 death of his daugh­ter, says the pro­gram has been impact­ful, and ​“made [him] feel a lit­tle bit human again after all these years.” 

Texas is not the first state in recent years to loosen soli­tary con­fine­ment restric­tions for those on death row. As of 2020, a dozen states rou­tine­ly kept death-sen­­tenced pris­on­ers in sin­gle cells for at least twen­­ty-two hours a day with lit­­tle-to-no human con­tact. In 2024 in Tennessee, Christa Pike, who had been held in func­tion­al soli­tary con­fine­ment for 28 years as the only woman on the state’s death row, reached a set­tle­ment with the state that would allow her to work and social­ize with oth­er women in the gen­er­al prison pop­u­la­tion. In 2019, the South Carolina Department of Corrections moved the state’s death row pris­on­ers to a new loca­tion with increased inter­ac­tion and less restric­tive hous­ing, as well as access to job oppor­tu­ni­ties. In 2019, the Virginia Department of Corrections was found by the Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit to have vio­lat­ed the Eighth Amendment with its use of near-con­stant soli­tary con­fine­ment and moved death row pris­on­ers to less restric­tive hous­ing. Virginia abol­ished the death penal­ty in 2021. 

The Texas pilot is lim­it­ed to a select few — the vast major­i­ty of the state’s death row pris­on­ers still live under near con­stant iso­la­tion. In 2023, four death row pris­on­ers sued the state, chal­leng­ing their liv­ing con­di­tions. They allege that the Texas Department of Criminal Justice (TDCJ) has vio­lat­ed Eighth Amendment pro­tec­tions against cru­el and unusu­al pun­ish­ment because of mold and insect infes­ta­tions, as well as the indef­i­nite use of soli­tary con­fine­ment. The State has argued that the ​“alleged con­di­tions are not suf­fi­cient­ly extreme” to vio­late the U.S. Constitution. Catherine Bratic, attor­ney for the pris­on­ers, told the Chronicle “[t]here’s a rea­son that even short peri­ods of soli­tary con­fine­ment are con­sid­ered tor­ture under inter­na­tion­al human rights con­ven­tions.” The case is still pend­ing, despite TDCJ’s inde­pen­dent changes to conditions.