In The Volunteer, Emmy-winning investigative reporter Gianna Toboni offers a compelling and unflinching examination of America’s flawed death penalty system through the story of Scott Dozier, a death row inmate who sought to expedite his own execution. Rather than fight his conviction, Dozier requested a swift end, shedding light on the chaotic, often botched process behind lethal injections. Toboni’s book not only chronicles Dozier’s personal journey but also exposes the dark realities of state-sanctioned punishment, revealing a system riddled with inefficiencies, ethical dilemmas, and human cost. In this interview, we delve into her investigation and the chilling truths she uncovered.
The Volunteer follows Scott Dozier’s case and his decision to volunteer for his own execution. What was it about his story that first piqued your interest and made you decide to write a book about it?
I wrote Scott Dozier a letter in the fall of 2017, because I needed an interview with a death row inmate for a documentary I was making for HBO. When he called me several days later, I was stunned. He was immediately striking in the way he spoke and there was something he said that made him different: he was volunteering for execution. He preferred to be dead than live life on death row for what would likely be the next several decades; he was just 47 years old.
What I soon learned was that despite the state wanting him killed, and despite Dozier opting for execution, he would not be quickly killed. The state struggled to get the drugs needed for lethal injection and when they did, court challenges prevented it. This represented to me how broken the capital punishment system is in America.
After completing the documentary, I couldn’t stop thinking about Dozier and the incredible twists and turns of his story – and how there was so much more to investigate.
In your investigation into Scott Dozier’s life and the criminal justice system, what was the most challenging aspect of uncovering the details of his case?
While I was able to talk to Dozier frequently – often several times per week – and while he was candid with me, I struggled to land interviews with corrections officers in the Nevada prison system and government. After most of my interview requests were denied, I submitted several Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) requests to the prison, as well as other government agencies, and the internal documents I received – from emails to text messages to medical documents – told a very detailed story that the public hasn’t had access to until now.
You delve into the history and controversy surrounding the death penalty in America. How did you balance the need to tell Scott Dozier’s personal story with the broader systemic issues the book explores?
Dozier represented some of the broader themes I wanted to explore in my book, so I alternated chapters between his personal story and the greater story of the death penalty in America. For the areas that Dozier didn’t represent – for example, he grew up in a healthy middle-class family, which is not the case with many others on death row – I interviewed many more death row inmates in other states.
How did you go about researching such a complex, multi-faceted topic? What resources or people did you find most helpful in your investigative work?
Death row inmates, guards, wardens and spiritual advisors across several states helped paint a very detailed picture of the system from the inside. I also relied on anesthesiologists, who have been expert witnesses in court challenges on lethal injection and other experts who have followed the death penalty for years, including politicians like Governor Gavin Newsom, who took me to California’s death row.
Scott Dozier’s case involved many twists and turns, including delays in his execution. Did you find it difficult to navigate the timeline of events while writing this book?
Because Dozier’s story spanned nearly 50 years, and because I learned about the details of his story from his old friends, family, police records and court documents, it was important for me to be very organized with a drive which housed research tracking documents, timelines, police reports, court documents, etc.
The book reveals many flaws in the execution process, including botched attempts and issues with lethal injection drugs. What were some of the most shocking revelations you uncovered during your research?
I spoke with people who have been steps from death row inmates as they were executed in the most shocking and gruesome ways. One warden told me how he executed a man by electrocution, but mid-execution, the man’s head lit on fire, and so unintentionally, he burned this man to death. The warden was traumatized, became an alcoholic and still gets nightmares, in which the men he executed visit him at night, sit on his bed and just stare at him, without saying a word. He knows what they’re thinking.
How did you approach telling the story of a man who was convicted of heinous crimes and yet sought an expedited execution? Did you feel a responsibility to present him in a certain light?
It was important to me to listen to Dozier and offer him a fair opportunity to tell his story. I also relied on those who know him best and were close with him at different stages of his life, to corroborate and to add color. When he made claims against the state, I investigated them and gave the state a chance to offer their side of the story.
You discuss the moral, ethical, and logistical challenges surrounding the death penalty. In your view, how has the system failed, and what does that say about the broader criminal justice system in the U.S.?
This book aims to go beyond the moral debate that’s surrounded the death penalty for decades. The way in which I investigate how broken the death penalty system is should feel unexpected and raise nuanced questions: Should a man sentenced to death in America be able to activate his sentence and get executed if the state is dragging their feet?
While American states continue to sentence people to death, only 15% of those on death row are executed, but we will spend as much as ten times more on those capital cases, opposed to life without parole. It seems fair to ask, why are we spending so much money securing those sentences, if they’ll never be carried out?
You address the idea of a “humane” execution, questioning what that even means in practice. Do you believe there is a way to make executions more humane, or is the very act of state-sanctioned killing inherently flawed?
I’m not sure there’s a way for a government to humanely execute a citizen, unless they’re asking to be executed. I do think there are ways to reduce the suffering one experiences during an execution.
Throughout your investigation, did you encounter any major contradictions or surprises in the ways various states handle the death penalty and executions?
When I was walking through the Polunsky Unit, home to Texas’ death row, I saw a large sign on the wall with photos of employees, who were part of a Suicide Watch team, presumably hired to ensure folks on death row don’t have the opportunity to kill themselves, before the state has a chance to. Is the point that the inmate must die or that the state has the honor of doing it?
The book critiques how the death penalty has become a bureaucratic and logistical nightmare, with difficulties securing drugs and dealing with legal challenges. How did these issues influence the story you were telling?
The ways in which states have attempted to acquire lethal injection drugs is fascinating, from prison officials orchestrating parking lot drug deals to purchasing and importing drugs overseas to hiring local pharmacies to produce drug cocktails that are not FDA-approved. The scenes I describe in the book read like ones out of Breaking Bad or Cocaine Cowboys, but it’s not drug dealers making the deals, it’s American prison officials.
In exploring the psychological and emotional toll on individuals who are on death row, what did you learn about the long-term effects of living in solitary confinement and waiting for an execution?
Spending 22 to 24 hours a day in a solitary cell, in some cases without access to coping mechanisms, like reading material, music or a chance to socialize can be completely debilitating and lead to suicidal behavior. These incarcerated people need eye contact and human touch as much as they need food and water, and without it, their mental health can erode quickly.
One of the central themes of The Volunteer is how the death penalty has failed to achieve its intended goals. Based on your research, do you think there is a viable alternative to the death penalty that would better serve justice in the U.S.?
If voters decided they no longer wanted inmates killed in their name, and on their dime, a simple alternative, which is what California is doing, would be to house these death row inmates in maximum security prisons and have them work to pay restitution to their victims’ families.
The book is filled with ethical dilemmas, especially as it relates to Scott Dozier’s decision to expedite his death. As a journalist, how did you manage to remain impartial while engaging with such a morally complex case?
I found it very difficult to abide by the unwritten rules of journalism, to be neutral and unemotional and objective, while also being human, and feeling for a person that was suffering in front of me. I tend to lean toward being a human first, and a journalist second, as I did in this case, because I think when we’re human, and we really listen and feel for others, we become better journalists.
After completing your investigation and writing The Volunteer, has your own stance on the death penalty changed? How do you now view the practice in light of the information you uncovered?
I grapple with this question throughout the book. It’s always been easy for me to say I’m anti-death penalty, but in meeting Dozier, I felt that he should have the opportunity to activate the death sentence the state had issued him. Separately, I also started to think about victims’ families, specifically parents who have lost their children to murder, and to really put myself in their shoes. What would I do? It complicated my hardline view of the practice.