What I find most galling about the commuted sentence is that it really wasn't a commutation in any meaningful sense. Typically a sentence is commuted after some portion, often the bulk, of it has been served, the idea being that poor so-and-so has suffered long enough in prison and the additional pain that completing the sentence would bring in no way serves justice. In Scooter Libby's case, of course, he hasn't served a day in prison and now never will. The DOJ's "Standards for Consideration of Clemency Petitions" (via TPM), states that "Requests for commutation generally are not accepted unless and until a person has begun serving that sentence. Nor are commutation requests generally accepted from persons who are presently challenging their convictions or sentences through appeal or other court proceeding." Libby's case fails both these tests. What he received is a pardon in sheep's clothing, one that cheapens the term "commutation," with its expectation of a just punishment ultimately curtailed. President Bush emphasized his opinion--shared even by many who thought Libby should do hard time--that 30 months behind bars was "excessive." The probation office, as he noted, had recommended 15 to 21 months. But of course, Bush doesn't merely find 30 months excessive, he finds 15 to 21 months excessive, too. Or six months, or one month, or a single day behind bars. Bush could have commuted the sentence to any of these shorter durations if he truly felt the sentence was too long; instead he willed it away altogether. Yes, yes, there's the $250,000 fine, but given that Libby supporters have reportedly raised $5 million for his legal defense fund, he may not be the one who winds up paying it. (I don't know how much of that sum Libby has already spent on the case, or will spend on appeals, but it seems conceivable that he will ultimately run a profit on his crime.) And yes, there is the two years of probation, though this is hardly onerous unless Libby was contemplating committing other crimes during that span. Libby's defenders also, of course, cite the irrevocable damage that's been done to his name, though given that they generally do so in the context of lauding him as one of the most decent, admirable, upstanding public servants in the history of the Republic, it seems that his reputation will be fine, at least among the people who matter most to him. There is even a case to be made that, far from being the pardon-minus it's been billed as, commutation serves as a pardon-plus for Libby. He can (and will) continue with his appeals, which if they succeed, will restore him to innocence more persuasively than any presidential pardon. And, of course, if they fail, Bush can always pardon him down the road. There's even some speculation that the commutation increases Libby's legal leverage: While the appeals proceed, Libby can invoke his Fifth Amendment rights against self-incrimination should, say, Congress wish to have a discussion with him; had he been pardoned, he would have considerably less latitude. All in all, a good day for Scooter Libby, and a bad day for believers in equal justice before the law. --Christopher Orr Update: Over at the Spine, Marty claims that I know nothing of the cost of legal work if I "can even suggest for a moment that Scooter Libby will reap a profit from the $5 million collected by the Libby Defense Fund for his lawyers' fees." It's a true enough charge that I have no idea how much Libby's defense has (and will) cost; the Washington Post reported today that two of the principals involved with his legal defense fund "believe Libby's legal fees amount to more than the money in hand," which seems to treat the answer as at least somewhat less obvious than Marty states. But I'm happy to withdraw the suggestion (which, in my defense, I only described, parenthetically, as "conceivable") that Libby could wind up running a profit on his conviction. As for Marty's contention that I am "one of those who cannot bear the thought that this president has used his clear and not at all questionable constitutional power to commute the sentence of, or pardon anyone sentenced by a federal court," I can only reply that my feelings are more particular: It's not that I'd be bothered if Bush pardoned or commuted anyone sentenced by a federal court; I'm bothered by Bush commuting the sentence of someone in his own administration who lied under oath quite probably in an effort to protect his superiors, including Bush and the vice president.