This spring, the New York State legislature has an opportunity to confront an overlooked yet troubling aspect of its criminal legal system: the eugenic roots of New York’s three-strikes law. As legislators debate the Marvin Mayfield Act, which would amend the law to enable more judicial discretion, the historical foundation of the law demands closer scrutiny.
Although many associate three-strikes laws with the tough-on-crime era of the late-20th century, new research shows that they originated much earlier as part of the eugenics movement of the early 1900s. Eugenicists believed criminal behavior was hereditary, spreading through generations and society like a disease. Their proposed solution: Permanently isolate “habitual criminals” during their reproductive years, effectively sterilizing them through incarceration. New York, tragically, was a pioneer in translating these harmful theories into practice.
The foundations of three-strikes laws trace back to Cesare Lombroso, a 19th-century Italian physician whose dubious studies claimed criminals could be identified by physical traits. Lombroso’s theory — that 40% of criminals inherited their behavior genetically and would inevitably pass it to their descendants — became alarmingly influential. American intellectuals and policymakers swiftly embraced this pseudoscience. Francis Wayland, then dean of Yale Law School, likened criminality to smallpox and advocated forced segregation to halt its spread.
These dangerous ideas didn’t merely circulate among academics; they shaped judicial reasoning at the highest levels. Justice Benjamin Cardozo, a future Supreme Court justice, articulated this viewpoint clearly in 1929, comparing releasing criminals to allowing diphtheria carriers back into communities. These remarks, which were made in a lecture to medical professionals in Manhattan, underscore how deeply eugenic ideology penetrated mainstream thought.
New York’s legislative response was swift and severe. Influential eugenic advocates, including Richard Dugdale and Charlton Lewis, promoted incarceration as the primary means of curbing the supposed hereditary threat. Dugdale’s now-discredited study, “The Jukes,” claimed to trace generations of criminal behavior within one family, concluding that “perpetual imprisonment” was the only viable solution. Lewis, president of the Prison Association of New York, openly supported a eugenic approach to criminal justice, explicitly calling for “the extinction of the criminal class.”
Their efforts culminated in New York-s 1907 three-strikes law, mandating life sentences for individuals with three prior convictions. The law’s proponents, including the New York State Board of Charities, celebrated it openly as a method of “permanent segregation” of individuals deemed “defective” or “incorrigible.” The intent was not rehabilitation or public safety alone, but explicitly to prevent the reproduction of those labeled genetically criminal.
New York further tightened this punitive approach in 1926 with the Baumes Law, championed by State Senator Caleb Baumes, to remove parole eligibility and judicial discretion entirely. Baumes justified the law by labeling individuals with multiple convictions as “incurable” and “non-reformable” — concepts borrowed from Lombroso’s eugenics theory. The message was clear: Lifelong incarceration was necessary to protect society not just from crime, but from genetic contamination of criminality.
Alarmingly, the Baumes Law inspired similar legislation nationwide and was ultimately reflected in Nazi Germany’s horrific policies. In 1933, shortly after rising to power, the Nazis enacted their own “Law Against Dangerous Habitual Criminals,” mirroring New York’s three-strikes approach. Although Germany repealed this law after the fall of the Nazi regime, New York’s version remains in force today, quietly continuing a legacy of eugenics-inspired state policy.
Today, New Yorkers face uncomfortable questions. By maintaining its current three-strikes law, does New York State tacitly endorse policies explicitly designed by eugenicists? Are we inadvertently fulfilling their goals, especially considering the law’s racially disproportionate enforcement, which results in people of color being disproportionately stripped of reproductive autonomy? Legislators must reckon honestly with this dark chapter, recognizing how deeply eugenics have shaped the state’s three-strikes law.
The Marvin Mayfield Act offers more than just judicial discretion; it represents a break from an unjust past. By reclaiming humanity in sentencing, the state can explicitly reject eugenics and its imprint on current sentencing laws.
New York owes its citizens — particularly those unjustly affected by generations of oppressive policies — an acknowledgment of this troubling history. Justice demands that laws built on eugenics and pseudoscience be not merely amended, but actively dismantled. The legislature’s decision this spring is not just about sentencing reform; it’s an opportunity to confront a past rooted in eugenics and decisively reject such policies. The Marvin Mayfield Act represents a necessary step toward a more equitable future, one that definitively leaves eugenics where it belongs: in the pages of history, not the statutes of New York.
Daniel Loehr is an associate professor at the CUNY School of Law, where he teaches constitutional law and criminal procedure.