Tennessee attempted to carry out the death sentence imposed on Christa Pike on Wednesday. The state administered its prescribed lethal-injection procedure. Pike survived. Instead of leaving the execution chamber deceased, she was transported to a medical facility.
The Tennessee Department of Correction subsequently maintained that every step of its authorized protocol had been followed and that no additional procedures were permitted.
That statement raises a question more consequential than whether an execution failed: What happens when a state follows its approved procedure and the procedure fails to accomplish its intended purpose?
Gov. Bill Lee (R-TN)’s decision to suspend the remaining execution scheduled for 2026 and order an independent investigation acknowledges the seriousness of the situation. It also creates an opportunity to distinguish several questions that should not be confused: the validity of Pike’s conviction, the constitutionality of the attempted execution, the legality of any subsequent attempt, and the separate authority of executive clemency.
The starting point must be Colleen Slemmer.
In 1995, Slemmer, a 19-year-old student, was murdered. Pike was convicted for her role in that killing and sentenced to death. The crime was horrific, and nothing about the failed execution diminishes the suffering inflicted upon Colleen or the loss endured by her family.
Her mother, May Martinez, has publicly supported carrying out the sentence after decades of proceedings. Her position is an essential part of any serious account of this case.
But recognizing the victim’s suffering does not resolve every constitutional question surrounding the administration of punishment.
The Eighth Amendment prohibits cruel and unusual punishment. Its application here requires more than observing that Pike survived a lethal injection.
In Louisiana ex rel. Francis v. Resweber (1947), the Supreme Court considered whether Louisiana could make another attempt to execute Willie Francis after an initial electrocution failed. The court permitted the subsequent attempt, but the decision did not establish that every repeated execution is automatically constitutional.
The circumstances matter.
Francis involved an unintended malfunction. Pike’s case raises additional questions about a prescribed chemical procedure that, according to Tennessee’s own account, was carried out to the limits authorized by the state.
Did the drugs function as intended? Was the administration technically sound? What did medical personnel observe? What suffering, if any, resulted? And what would Tennessee have to establish before attempting the procedure again?
These are factual and constitutional questions, not conclusions that can responsibly be announced before the investigation.
There is also an institutional dimension.
The Department of Correction’s statement presents two possibilities requiring examination: either an approved protocol was properly administered yet failed, or deficiencies occurred that the department’s initial account has not identified.
Each possibility carries different implications for administrative accountability, medical oversight, and future litigation.
This was also Tennessee’s second unsuccessful execution attempt in 2026. An independent review therefore has a broader institutional context, including the state’s previous examinations of lethal-injection procedures.
Lee’s administration has already taken the first step by ordering outside scrutiny. Its findings, the supporting records, and the standards used to evaluate compliance will be central to public understanding.
That brings us to clemency.
On Sept. 28, Lee declined Pike’s petition for commutation. Two days later, the state attempted to execute her, and she survived.
The original clemency decision and the subsequent failure are separate events. Whether the latter provides grounds for reconsideration is a distinct question from whether another execution would withstand judicial review.
Under Tennessee’s Constitution, the governor possesses the authority to grant reprieves and pardons, a power that encompasses commutation. That executive responsibility exists alongside, rather than in place of, the courts’ responsibility to decide constitutional claims.
The possibility of commutation to life imprisonment without parole was already part of Pike’s earlier petition. Any renewed consideration would also have to confront the arguments presented by her counsel concerning her age at the time of the murder, history of abuse, and other mitigating evidence, alongside the seriousness of the offense and the interests of Slemmer’s family.
None of those considerations disappears because an execution has failed. Nor does the failure, standing alone, dictate the outcome of a clemency review.
Tennessee now faces a situation substantially different from the one before Sept. 30.
It has a surviving prisoner who underwent the state’s authorized execution procedure, an independent investigation underway, unresolved questions about any further attempt, and a victim’s family that has already endured more than three decades of litigation and uncertainty.
These circumstances deserve distinct answers from the institutions responsible for providing them.
STOP EXCUSING MONSTERS — START EXECUTING THEM: NO SYMPATHY FOR THE SPOKANE SERIAL ARSONIST
The central question is no longer simply whether Tennessee has a lawful death sentence.
It is what constitutional, institutional, and executive responsibilities follow when the state has attempted to carry out that sentence and the person remains alive.
Pedro Ordein is a finance and operations professional with more than 30 years of experience in public-sector governance, large-scale project analysis, and institutional decision-making.