Gov. Katie Hobbs recently denied clemency to Carl Buske, a man serving a 290-year sentence in Arizona for possession of child sexual abuse material. I want to be clear from the outset: the offense is serious and deserving of accountability. But 290 years? For a non-contact crime? That is not justice. That is vengeance disguised as law.

Mr. Buske’s case is well known to those who have followed Arizona’s sentencing patterns. Even the judge who sentenced him — bound by law to impose 10-year minimums on each of 29 counts, served consecutively — acknowledged at the time how extreme the outcome was. The original prosecuting attorney agreed. And most recently, the Arizona Board of Executive Clemency voted unanimously to recommend his release. A consensus like that among the judge, prosecutor and clemency board is virtually unheard of. Yet Hobbs rejected the recommendation.

This denial isn’t just a disappointment. It’s a missed opportunity to affirm what Arizona’s Department of Corrections, Rehabilitation, and Reentry claims to stand for: rehabilitation and reentry. Mr. Buske has served over eighteen years in prison. He has maintained a clean record, completed all programming available to him, and aged into a low-risk category by any standard. If this man is not eligible for a second chance, who is?

Clemency exists precisely for cases like this — when mandatory sentencing laws produce outcomes so disproportionate that they violate basic notions of fairness. Arizona’s laws tied the judge’s hands. The clemency board exists to untie them. And the governor’s office, as the last safeguard, is supposed to ensure that justice is not merely legal, but humane. In this case, that system failed.

Gov. Hobbs had to do only one thing to let clemency take effect: nothing. She didn’t have to endorse Mr. Buske. She didn’t have to issue a press release. She simply had to allow the board she appointed to exercise the judgment she entrusted to them. Instead, she chose to overrule them — without providing a public explanation and against the advice of every professional who had handled the case.

What kind of message does this send to those trying to rebuild their lives behind bars? To their families? To Arizonans who believe in second chances?

We rank near the top in the nation for incarceration per capita and near the bottom in education. This isn’t a coincidence. It’s a policy. It’s also a moral failure. If Arizona insists on calling it a Department of Rehabilitation, then rehabilitation must mean something. Clemency must mean something. Otherwise, these are just hollow words.

I supported Gov. Hobbs. I believed she would bring balance and compassion to Arizona’s justice system. I believed we were turning a corner. But today, I join a growing chorus of citizens, faith leaders, professionals, and justice advocates who are tired of watching rehabilitation denied in favor of political calculation.

Mr. Buske’s sentence was extreme. His rehabilitation is real. And the decision to keep him imprisoned indefinitely is neither just nor defensible.

Gov. Hobbs had the chance to do the right thing. She did not take it.

But the people of Arizona still can — and will.

Gary W Hardy, PhD, is a volunteer for Arizonans for Rational Sex Offense Laws (AZRSOL).