prison

For years after her sister Polly Klaas was murdered and the killer incarcerated on death row at San Quentin, Annie Nichol viewed the prison with dread, a place that contained the living embodiment of her unimaginable pain and fear.

“Every time I drove by San Quentin, I would kind of get a chill,” Nichol told me Sunday. “It felt scary.”

Last week, Nichol found herself not just inside that prison, but inside the death row unit where Polly’s killer once lived, inside a cell that had not long ago housed other murderers — sitting with her sister Jess Nichol and Gov. Gavin Newsom during an impromptu meeting that the women had never imagined would happen there.

Despite the unease of the setting, the conversation would lead Newsom to last week’s controversial decision to grant clemency to the 548 Californians sentenced to capital punishment, changing their terms instead to life without parole (the state Supreme Court still needs to weigh in on the majority of cases).

For all the public discussions about Newsom’s move, the roughly 25 private minutes he spent with the Nichol sisters was the final piece of a moral puzzle he’s been working on since he was 10, he told me — an unlikely journey that involves a mafia hit, a member of Polly’s family who opposes his decision, and warm socks.

Yes, socks.

But first, the cell.

In 2019, Newsom put a moratorium on the death penalty and began remaking San Quentin following a European model of incarceration that stresses rehabilitation. Death row, a cavernous hull of a building with multiple stories of concrete cells reaching up toward a ceiling so decrepit that birds roosted inside, was transformed.

Annie and Jess found themselves sitting inside a space that was once two cells, and now has a chess board and giant green plastic chairs. Fluorescent lights seeped everything in a cold blue glow.

“It did not feel good in there,” Annie said. “It still felt like dark and dank and creepy.”

The sisters had never met Newsom, and Newsom didn’t know anything about their opposition to the death penalty, he said. He did know Polly’s father, Marc Klaas, however. Klaas does not like Newsom.

Before Newsom announced his moratorium, he met with Klaas and a group of crime survivors. Klaas said then that he felt blindsided and outraged, and became “viscerally angry” during the meeting.

Monday, Klaas told me he’s angry all over again and can’t sleep.

“I don’t appreciate my daughter being regurgitated any time somebody wants to make a new unilateral change to the California Penal Code,” he said.

Newsom has spoken about his meeting with Klaas in the intervening years. Monday, he called it an “indelible conversation” that has held him back from taking further action on the death penalty.

“His pain is real,” Newsom said. “I have an abundance of respect for his point of view.”

And then he met Jess and Annie Nichol. The sisters had listened to a podcast that Newsom did with civil rights lawyer and anti-death-penalty advocate Bryan Stevenson months earlier and reached out to his office to ask if they could meet. They didn’t hear back until last week, when all three were planning to be in town for the San Quentin Film Festival.

The decision to gather in a cell was made on the fly, they said. But once inside, they found the governor to be “surprisingly emotionally available and curious and interested,” Jess said. “It felt like he wasn’t wearing his governor’s mask. Actually, it felt like a real moment of humanity.”

Newsom asked if they had always been against the death penalty, and Jess told him that in the beginning, after Polly’s death in 1993, they wanted the killer executed. “We thought that was justice,” she said. “Because f— that guy. And that’s what I said, for real.”

Newsom’s reponse? “Yeah, f— that guy,” she recalls him saying.

“It felt important that he understand that we haven’t forgiven the man who killed Polly,” Jess said. “We still feel anger and grief, but we just believe that those feelings, however understandable, shouldn’t determine public policy.”

But as the meeting wound down, the sisters realized they had forgotten the most important part — the ask.

“I said, OK, governor, I want to be direct here,” recalled Jess. “We are explicitly asking you to commute all death sentences in California.”

Newsom said that request, hearing it from Polly’s sisters, along with the plea that he give it equal weight to anything else that had been said by other crime survivors, was an intense moment for him — providing an unexpected emancipation from the emotions he had been carrying from his interaction with Marc Klaas.

“If there was any residual doubt left in terms of doing this, it was eliminated in that moment,” Newsom said.

Jess said it was clear to her that Newsom has been “wrestling with this for a long time, even since his childhood.”

When Newsom was about 10, he told me, he remembers sitting inside North Beach Restaurant in San Francisco. It’s an old-school, white tablecloth joint his father — a judge and a lion in Newsom’s memories — frequented. This day, Newsom recalls being joined by Pete Pianezzi, a former bank robber wrongly convicted of a 1937 Los Angeles double homicide.

Newsom’s grandfather, William Newsom II, and later his father, William Newsom III, were convinced of Pianezzi’s innocence and fought for years to help him gain a pardon and an exoneration (which he eventually did, from Gov. Pat Brown and then Gov. Jerry Brown, respectively). The Newsoms were right — a gangster-turned-informant confirmed Pianezzi had been framed by the mob.

Newsom said Pianezzi’s tale is what started him thinking about the death penalty — Pianezzi had escaped a capital sentence because a single juror refused it on moral grounds.

Pianezzi’s story was turned into a book, “The Bum Rap Kid,” and Newsom keeps a copy of it, along with the executive order pausing the death penalty, in the top drawer of his desk — “a reminder of why I’m here,” he said.

He sees the issue of the death penalty as part of a “deeper narrative” about criminal justice that has been central to his time in office.

Which brings us to the socks.

On the same day Newsom met the Nichol sisters, he spoke with an inmate who lives a few cells away from where they met. The guy had washed his clothes that day and called his father to tell him how it felt to have on fresh, warm socks for the first time in almost 20 years — the laundry facilities are new, part of that remodel of space and ideas that Newsom has championed. That conversation stuck with Newsom, too.

Newsom has been remaking our prison system to acknowledge the reality that the vast majority of people in prison are getting out one day. They will be in your communities, maybe even be your neighbors. Ask yourself this — what makes you safer? A rage-filled neighbor with no job or social skills, or an employed guy who knows how to take care of himself?

Appreciating warm socks is a little dose of civilization. Teaching people how to be civilized, one sock at a time, makes us all safer.

For the Nichol sisters, that vision of public safety — one that invests in survivors over punishment, and one that prioritizes changing outcomes for those inside and outside of prison — is ultimately what their opposition to the death penalty is about.

Knowing that their conversation with Newsom was so pivotal in his decision was shocking, they both said, and the entire event seems “surreal,” Jess said. But the result is what they see as a new legacy for Polly.

Her death became the impetus for California’s harsh three-strikes laws, which led to the over-incarceration of Black and brown people, often for minor crimes. The clemency, the Nichol sisters said, changes that.

“Annie and I will never forget that meeting for the rest of our lives,” Jess said.

For Newsom, the commutations seem, to me anyway, like the final act of his criminal justice reform, an overlooked and misunderstood legacy whose effectiveness won’t be known for years to come. But one he’s willing to take a risk on.

Newsom told me one of the worst moments of his political career — when he got caught during the COVID-19 pandemic at a fancy Napa Valley restaurant — was actually “the best thing that ever happened” to him because it reminded him of the responsibility he has to his power, and how fleeting that power is.

That’s the lesson he learned in North Beach, at a table with a felon and his father. And when it comes to how he feels about the fallout from this decision, whatever it may be, a text from his sister summed up what he’ll carry as its legacy: “Dad would be proud.”

Elizabeth Holmes was once celebrated as the world’s youngest self-made female billionaire, with an estimated fortune of $4.5 billion. Today, the disgraced Theranos founder is serving a federal prison sentence for defrauding investors and owes hundreds of millions of dollars in restitution.

Suffice it to say, she has a complicated relationship with money.

That tension runs through “You Can See Everything,” Nathan Fielder and Lance Oppenheim’s hit documentary about Holmes and her longtime partner, Billy Evans, an heir to a wealthy San Diego hotel family.

In the nearly three-hour, wildly unpredictable film, a reenactment staged by Fielder depicts Evans pushing for a share of the documentary’s profits, sparking a dispute with the filmmakers over whether paying their subjects would compromise the project’s integrity. Holmes, meanwhile, maintains that money has never been her primary motivation. As Fielder probes the couple’s finances, he struggles to determine how much Holmes knows about Evans’ dealings — and where their financial interests begin and end.

Here’s what “You Can See Everything” reveals about Holmes and Evans’ finances, and what it leaves unanswered. Warning: Major spoilers ahead.

Did Holmes and Evans get paid to participate in the documentary?

No. But for a time, compensation was on the table.

The film was financed by A24, which gave Fielder and Oppenheim unusual freedom to pursue the project without any deadline or obligation to turn what they captured into a finished film. As Fielder recalled during a Q&A following the film’s secret premiere at the Telluride Film Festival in September, the studio told them that if nothing came of it, “you can just throw everything away.”

In one of the film’s pivotal sequences, Fielder stages a reenactment, based on his recollections, of a meeting with Evans, Holmes, Oppenheim and two A24 executives. Amanda Seyfried, who won an Emmy for portraying Holmes in Hulu’s “The Dropout,” plays her again, while Christopher Abbott takes on the role of Evans. After Holmes leaves to check on the couple’s children, Evans raises the question of compensation.

“I do know that there is potential for this movie to also make a lot of money,” Evans says. “And I feel strongly that if this movie were to make money, that we should be entitled to some of it.”

Fielder objects, arguing that payment could cast doubt on the couple’s motives and suggest they had influence over the finished film. Evans insists that compensation is nonnegotiable.

According to Fielder, A24 ultimately agreed to a profit-sharing arrangement, though the documentary doesn’t disclose its terms.

Holmes works on a laptop at the rented beachfront home in Del Mar, Calif., where she lived with her partner, Billy Evans, and their two children before entering prison, in a scene from “You Can See Everything.”

(A24)

But shortly before entering prison, Holmes tells Fielder on camera, “Obviously I’m not making any money or having any economic interest in this whatsoever.” Fielder is left wondering whether she’s genuinely unaware of the deal Evans negotiated or merely pretending not to know.

The real Evans later acknowledges withholding some details from Holmes, explaining that she had enough on her mind.

In the end, a title card reveals that Evans decided to forgo compensation.

Is it unusual for documentary subjects to get paid?

Generally, yes — at least in documentaries that follow traditional journalistic standards.

Paying subjects can create conflicts of interest, raising questions about their motives and credibility. Those concerns are particularly acute with someone like Holmes, who was convicted of defrauding investors through an elaborate web of deception.

“The optics are terrible,” Fielder warns Evans.

Evans counters that documentary subjects have been paid before, citing reports of a lucrative Netflix deal involving Prince Harry and Meghan Markle. Oppenheim dismisses the comparison, saying their series isn’t a conventional documentary.

The distinction isn’t always clear-cut. In 2019, competing documentaries about the disastrous Fyre Festival took different approaches to paying its disgraced organizer, Billy McFarland. The filmmakers behind Hulu’s “Fyre Fraud” acknowledged paying him for footage and other rights. But Chris Smith, director of Netflix’s “Fyre,” refused McFarland’s demand for payment, arguing that it would be unethical for him to profit after defrauding so many people.

Fielder says he considered abandoning the project rather than accepting Evans’ demands. Instead, he decided the negotiations might reveal something about how Holmes and Evans operate.

As Fielder later confides to Seyfried, “Either this is fully sincere and she actually has no clue about the deal Billy made, or she honestly might be the most manipulative person that’s ever lived.”

How much money does Holmes owe?

A lot.

In 2023, a federal judge ordered Holmes and former Theranos President Ramesh “Sunny” Balwani to pay more than $452 million in restitution to investors and companies defrauded by Theranos. The two are jointly responsible for the judgment, meaning the same losses cannot be collected twice. A federal appeals court upheld the order in 2025.

Holmes speaks at the Fortune Global Forum in 2015, when her blood-testing startup Theranos was valued at billions of dollars and she was celebrated as one of Silicon Valley’s most successful entrepreneurs.

(Jeff Chiu / Associated Press)

Holmes has maintained that she has little money left. In a court appearance shown in the documentary, she insists, “I don’t have any money,” explaining she is deeply in debt from legal fees associated with her criminal case.

During Fielder’s prison visit, as reenacted in the film, she tells him, “I don’t have the option to care about money. I owe hundreds of millions of dollars of restitution. Every dollar I make, they take from me.”

Would any profits from the documentary have gone toward Holmes’ restitution?

Not necessarily.

Although Holmes and Evans have two children together and refer to each other as husband and wife, Holmes told People in 2025 that they were not legally married. Evans isn’t personally responsible for her restitution debt simply because they’re a couple.

The government can seek payment from assets belonging to Holmes, but the documentary doesn’t disclose who would have received money under the proposed profit-sharing deal or whether Holmes would have had any financial interest in it. So it’s unclear whether any proceeds could have gone toward her restitution.

The proposed profit-sharing arrangement could have been lucrative. “You Can See Everything” grossed $15.6 million in its opening weekend and more than $20 million in its first five days. Those figures represent ticket sales, not profits, but illustrate the potential value of such an arrangement. And with the film still expanding into more theaters and generating strong buzz, its box-office haul is poised to grow further.

How are Holmes and Evans supporting themselves?

The documentary doesn’t fully answer that question either.

Before Holmes entered prison, the couple lived with their two children — son William, now 5, and daughter Invicta, 3 — in a luxurious rented home near the beach in Del Mar, north of San Diego. Evans comes from a wealthy family whose hotel business includes the Bahia Resort Hotel, the Catamaran Resort Hotel and Spa and the Lodge at Torrey Pines. But in an Oct. 1 statement, Evans Hotels said he is neither an employee nor a shareholder in the company.

In the film, Fielder asks Evans whether Holmes might have been attracted to his family’s money. Evans grows visibly uncomfortable and shuts down the conversation when Fielder presses him about the extent of the family’s wealth.

Evans also has a biotech start-up, Haemanthus, which is developing laser-based technology to analyze biological samples, an undertaking with echoes of Holmes’ failed blood-testing company. According to Wired, the company has reported raising as much as $20 million in funding but has yet to release a product.

How much Evans personally earns from the venture — or whether his family helps support the couple — remains unclear.

In a later scene, Seyfried asks Evans who’s bringing in money while Holmes is in prison. He says she earns 30 cents an hour at the federal prison in Texas where she’s serving her sentence.

And what about his own income?

“I’ve got my own business,” he replies.

Ahmed Abed (a pseudonym due to ongoing threats of arrest) still feels like a prisoner despite being released from an Israeli jail to the occupied West Bank nearly two years ago.

Despite being technically “free”, Abed, 43, is still often rearrested by Israeli forces or summoned by intelligence for interrogation.

Hundreds of other Palestinians in the occupied West Bank face similar ordeals after being released from Israeli prisons. Their homes are sometimes raided twice a week; they can be detained, assaulted and interrogated on the spot before being released.

Every day, organisations dedicated to prisoners’ affairs document the arrests of dozens of Palestinians across the West Bank as part of large-scale operations that frequently target former detainees. Most of those detained are released after hours of interrogation, in what appears to be a campaign of intimidation by Israel against former Palestinian prisoners.

Frequent detentions

Abed was released as part of a prisoner exchange deal between Hamas and Israel in January 2025, having served 22 years of a life sentence. Since his release, he has faced persistent harassment by the Israeli military.

Just days after Abed’s release, he was summoned by Israeli intelligence for questioning. They informed him that they were unhappy with the political decision to carry out the exchange deal and warned they would rearrest him if he made the “slightest mistake”.

Since his release, he has been arrested six times and summoned for interrogation five times. Each time, his home has been raided and his family terrorised by Israeli soldiers. His father was once arrested simply because Abed happened to be outside his house at night.

“Whenever there are reports of Israeli military activity in the city, my family goes into a state of high alert; no one sleeps all night,” he told Al Jazeera. “Some neighbours even leave their homes, fearing they might be raided as part of the collective intimidation campaign imposed because of me.”

When Abed is arrested, he is often forced to walk for several kilometres handcuffed and blindfolded, accompanied by soldiers. He is then placed in a detention centre under dire conditions, deprived of food and water, subjected to beatings and verbal abuse, and then the threats begin.

“Every time, they threaten to send me back to prison to the point where I feel as though two-thirds of my body are still in captivity, with only one-third outside,” he said. “The threats vary, but the underlying message is always the same: I am not permitted to do anything ordinary or live a normal life like everyone else.”

Abed avoids family gatherings, fearing his presence may bring them harm, and so limits his interactions to his immediate family. An Israeli officer warned him that if he were to go to the mosque to pray, he would be arrested.

“The Israeli officer told me, ‘We have zero patience for you. Any behaviour we deem inappropriate, or any movement we find suspicious, we will rearrest you immediately,’” Abed added.

Although he managed to earn both a bachelor’s degree and a doctorate during his time in prison, he has been unable to secure a job. When employers learn about his repeated arrests, they refuse to hire him. Instead, he has to rely on day-labour work to cover his basic costs.

Loss of livelihood

A former prisoner from Qalqilya says he is arrested on average twice a week during the frequent Israeli military sweeps of the city, where former detainees are targeted. He was recently warned during one interrogation that if he ever set foot on a football pitch, he would be arrested. This puts his job as a referee in jeopardy.

Abdullah, another former prisoner from the city who also requested not to use his real name, told Al Jazeera that he has been arrested so many times since his release in 2000 that he has lost count. But he says he has spent a total of 17 years in custody since his “release”.

He was recently held under “administrative detention”, lasting from November 2023 to February 2025, during which he was subject to physical and psychological torture. By the time he was released, he had lost 60kg (132 pounds).

Abdullah, who supports a family of seven, is repeatedly arrested and released after a few hours, but only after his children have been terrorised and his home ransacked.

His employer grew frustrated with his repeated detentions and found a replacement for him.

“After losing my job, I began working on a piece of land I inherited from my father. However, due to arrests and threats, I can never find the right time to tend to it,” he said. “I often fall behind in irrigating, applying pesticides, or tilling the soil, all of which have taken a toll on my seasonal yields, leaving me with more losses than profits.”

‘Normalising fear’

Since the outbreak of the war on the Gaza Strip in October 2023, the occupied West Bank has witnessed a wave of Israeli arrest campaigns and pogroms. Israeli troops now make regular incursions into towns, refugee camps, and homes, as well as arrests at military checkpoints to detain former prisoners.

Palestinian prisoner advocacy organisations have documented approximately 26,000 arrests in the occupied West Bank, including East Jerusalem, between October 2023, when the genocidal war on Gaza began, and early October 2026. This figure includes more than 800 women and nearly 2,000 minors. The total encompasses individuals who were subsequently released, not just those who remain in custody.

Amani Sarahneh, a spokesperson for the Palestinian Prisoner’s Society, told Al Jazeera that Israeli operations in the West Bank have evolved into a continuous, round-the-clock wave of detentions. On average, between 10 and 15 Palestinians are arrested and remain in Israeli custody every day.

These arrests not only take place at night, as they did before, but also during daylight hours, at military checkpoints, and through field interrogations.

“The persistence of these campaigns has led to a ‘normalisation of fear’ among the citizens, which has significantly impacted social relations, particularly in villages where residents live in a state of constant anxiety, fearing that occupation forces might storm their towns or public spaces and arrest groups of people at any moment,” she told Al Jazeera.

These arrests are frequently accompanied by physical assaults and abuse, with detainees held for long hours while handcuffed and blindfolded. The victims’ family homes are frequently ransacked and possessions taken away during the Israeli raids.

“These policies also include using family members of those targeted, such as wives and sisters, as hostages to exert pressure,” Sarahneh said.

“The impact of these campaigns has extended beyond the detainees and their families, deepening a sense of fear and apprehension among the general public, who now worry that the arrests could reach a much wider segment of the population,” Sarahneh said.

Gov. Gavin Newsom told the California Supreme Court Thursday that he will commute the death sentences of all 548 state prisoners awaiting execution, reducing their punishments to life in prison without parole.

Newsom can commute about 40% of the death sentences with the stroke of a pen, but the rest will require the high court’s approval in order to be finalized.

The mass commutation would apply to inmates convicted of some of the most heinous acts in the state’s history. Newsom and other opponents of capital punishment have long argued that the process is costly, cruel and discriminatory, with death sentences disproportionately handed down to defendants of color.

“I take this action because I firmly believe that state-sanctioned killing is incompatible with California’s values, undermines the foundation of our legal system, and diminishes each of us,” Newsom wrote in a letter to Californians explaining his decision. “I know we cannot execute people in our imperfect legal system and remain true to our core values, first among them justice and human decency.”

The move comes in Newsom’s final months as governor and as he considers a run for president. Reducing the death sentences could help him in a primary with a Democratic base of like-minded liberal voters, but potentially hurt him in a general election with a national electorate that supports capital punishment.

The decision to officially spare the condemned inmates is largely symbolic in a state that has not executed a prisoner since 2006, though experts say it could save millions of dollars in court costs every year. Only 13 inmates have been killed since voters reinstated the death penalty in 1978. The state’s electorate reaffirmed its support a decade ago, voting down a ballot initiative that would have abolished capital punishment. Polls show its popularity has waned in the years since.

Despite his outspoken opposition to state-sanctioned executions, the governor has declined to use his political influence with voters to pursue a ballot measure that would amend the state Constitution to align with his position and officially end the death penalty. Without changing state law, criminals can continue to be sentenced to death in California.

“California voters have voted to keep the death penalty on the books and I respect that,” Newsom wrote in the letter to Californians. “But the constitution also gave every governor clemency authority, and that power exists for moments when law as applied cannot be squared with justice. For me, this is that moment.”

Newsom made national headlines two months after his inauguration in 2019 when he issued a temporary moratorium on executions and vowed to dismantle the death chamber at San Quentin State Prison, now called San Quentin Rehabilitation Center.

Calling the death penalty system a “failure,” Newsom said the punishment is also often reserved for poor people who cannot afford expensive legal representation, fails to deter crime and wastes taxpayer money.

Careful to avoid elevating a death penalty debate in the midterm elections, Newsom intentionally waited until after the general election on Tuesday to go a step further and launch the process of commuting all California death penalty sentences.

The decision is another bold signature Newsom move that sits well with his base of support in California and wealthy, white and college-educated national voters who would be crucial to his success in a Democratic presidential primary, said Mike Madrid, a Republican political consultant.

However, his liberal stance on government executions could also create a vulnerability for him if he advances in the 2028 presidential election as the party’s nominee.

“Gavin’s exactly right with that base Democratic voter on that position,” Madrid said. “One hundred percent. It makes him a champion.”

But more moderate blue-collar voters who helped the party flip Congress in the midterms, Madrid added, are “not in line with him on this.”

A poll conducted in August by the Pew Research Center found that about two-thirds of voters nationally favor the death penalty for people convicted or murder.

Those numbers could shift following the botched lethal injection of Christa Pike in Tennessee in September and Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth’s now-scuttled plan to livestream the execution of Ft. Hood shooter Nidal Hasan by firing squad.

“Those events have really ripped the veneer off the death penalty in this country,” said attorney Natasha Minsker of the California Anti-Death Penalty Coalition. “The death penalty is an act of violence. It’s taking another life. I think that’s become clear to the entire country.”

The state spends more than $200 million a year to adjudicate automatic death penalty appeals and habeas corpus petitions for inmates who, in all likelihood, will never be executed, according to a 2025 report by the Habeas Corpus Resource Center.

The case of Clarence Ray Allen, the last inmate killed by lethal injection in California 20 years ago, is emblematic of how the law has failed, death penalty opponents say.

Allen was 76, making him the second-oldest person ever executed in the United States. He had been on death row for 23 years and his appeals cost the state more than $750,000. Many current condemned inmates are even older — some in their 80s and 90s — and their appeals even more drawn out and expensive.

“It’s just a broken system,” said Michael Hersek, former executive director of Habeas Corpus Resource Center and an ex-state public defender.

Taxpayers foot the bill for both the defense and the prosecution in post-conviction capital cases, as well as the administrative judicial costs associated with years of complicated appeals in state and federal court.

The existing appeal requirements were instituted to counter long-standing racial bias in capital sentencing. Attempts to reform and expedite the appeals process over the years have further gummed up the system.

“There is no indication that the situation has improved, and … [there are] data indicating that it has worsened,” Justice Leondra R. Kruger wrote for the California Supreme Court in 2024.

It’s estimated that death penalty appeals alone constitute about a quarter of the work of the California Supreme Court.

“It’s ludicrous, the amount of time, resources and energy put into these cases,” Hersek said.

Some victims’ families agree.

“The death penalty is this promise to people who are angry and broken that you’re somehow going to make them feel better by executing this person,” said Bethany Webb, whose sister Laura was among eight people killed in a mass shooting in Seal Beach in 2011.

Their mother was also shot and badly injured in the attack.

“It is brutalizing to family members, the whole system,” Webb said.

Others say Newsom’s latest move is a betrayal of the justice they were promised.

“It’s total disrespect for the victims. It’s a slap in the face,” said Sandy Friend, whose 8-year-old son Michael Lyons was abducted, raped and murdered in 1996.

She and other relatives stressed the unique brutality of many capital crimes, saying Newsom did not consider victims’ suffering when commuting their killers’ sentences.

The commutations would go to inmates such as Charles Ng, who was convicted of killing six men, three women and two infant boys in Northern California in 1984 and 1985. Also in line to benefit is Richard Allen Davis, who abducted and murdered 12-year-old Polly Klaas of Petaluma in 1993, sparking a months-long search that gripped the nation. Another condemned inmate, Christopher Cheary, was convicted of murdering, raping and torturing his girlfriend’s 3-year-old daughter, Sophia Acosta, in Tulare County.

Gov.-elect Xavier Becerra also opposes the death penalty. If state leaders wanted to resume executions, experts say it would take the better part of a decade and millions of dollars in new spending for the state to design and approve a workable protocol for lethal injections, rebuild a death chamber and secure the gray-market drugs necessary to perform executions.

Legal experts believe the end of the death penalty is likely inevitable in California, with or without Newsom’s involvement.

In 2024, the Office of the State Public Defender sued California Atty. Gen. Rob Bonta’s office, arguing “persistent and pervasive racial disparities infect California’s death penalty system.”

This spring, the California Supreme Court ordered Bonta’s California Department of Justice to show cause why it should not declare the death penalty unconstitutional — a move widely read as signaling the justices’ ultimate intent to end it.

“The statistical findings in the studies invoked by petitioners are extraordinarily disturbing,” Bonta wrote in his reply to the order in August. “Evidence of pervasive racial disparities in the administration of the death penalty could show that California’s capital punishment system gives rise to a constitutionally intolerable risk of arbitrariness.”

Around 60% of the inmates in line for commutations would require review and approval by the California Supreme Court before Newsom’s term ends in January. Those cases involve prisoners who had a felony conviction on their record prior to receiving a death sentence, or racked up additional crimes while awaiting execution.

The high court previously rejected 10 clemency cases without much clarification when Gov. Jerry Brown submitted them in 2018 months before he left office.

If approved by the California Supreme Court, the immediate effect could be relatively muted. The death chamber was taken down and all but a handful of the remaining condemned inmates were relocated from segregated housing in San Quentin to other facilities across the state after Newsom’s 2019 moratorium.

The decision to formally pause executions drew support from the late Pope Francis during Newsom’s 2024 trip to the Vatican, according to the governor’s retelling of a brief conversation between the two men.

In a subsequent interview, the governor said his Catholic background and the inequities in the criminal justice system influenced his refusal to sign off on executions. His father, the late William Newsom, also opposed the death penalty.

His father and grandfather were involved in the case of Pete Pianezzi, a friend who was wrongfully convicted of first-degree murder in the shooting and killing of a gambler and busboy in Los Angeles in 1937.

Pianezzi escaped the death penalty by a single vote and served 13 years in prison. He was later exonerated.

Even if it were possible to limit inequity and wrongful convictions in the criminal justice system, Newsom has said he would still be against the death penalty.

“The decision is among the most difficult in my career, not because I doubt its necessity for our state but because I know its announcement may surface excruciating memories for victims’ families,” Newsom wrote in the letter to Californians. “Today I am acting on my long and deeply held conviction that individually and collectively we are stronger as a society when we reject state-sanctioned killing.”

Wong, in prison since 2020, was found guilty of colluding with foreign entities in violation of the city’s national security law.

Hong Kong pro-democracy activist Joshua Wong, who has been in prison since 2020, has been jailed for an additional 10 years.

Hong Kong’s High Court found Wong guilty of colluding with foreign entities in violation of the city’s national security law on Thursday.

The sentence comes just two months before he was expected to be released in January 2027.

“The punishment must fit the gravity of ⁠the crime,” High Court Judge William Tam told a packed courtroom while delivering the sentence.

“It is also necessary for the court to express the community’s abhorrence of the defendant’s scheme and acts with others to collude with foreign forces or external elements to endanger national security.”

Wong, now 30, was accused of conspiring with self-exiled activist Nathan Law and others to ask foreign countries, bodies or individuals outside China to impose sanctions or blockades, or engage in other hostile activities against the government.

He pleaded guilty to the charge in September. Tam said he considered a 13-year prison sentence as a starting point but reduced it to 10 because of Wong’s guilty plea and mitigation.

Wong was once the face of Hong Kong’s pro-democracy movement and has been in jail since 2020. He was imprisoned over his role in protests held a year earlier.

The demonstrations were prompted by plans to allow extradition to mainland China but soon evolved into a wider pro-democracy movement. Wong became a prominent representative of the movement, regularly appearing on news channels. He later pleaded guilty to inciting and organising an unauthorised antigovernment assembly.

‘Endless political persecution’

Governments and rights groups criticised the court’s decision on Thursday.

The United States consulate in Hong Kong said that it “strongly condemns” the additional sentence handed to Wong, and called for his “immediate release”.

“Wong has been unjustly imprisoned since December 2020, demonstrating that Beijing will go to extraordinary lengths to silence those who advocate for fundamental freedoms in Hong Kong,” a consulate spokesperson said in a statement to the AFP news agency.

After his sentencing, Taiwan also criticised the “endless political persecution” of Hong Kong pro-democracy activists.

Beijing and the Hong Kong government use “authoritarian tools” to “fabricate charges … engage in endless political persecution, and suppress the people’s legitimate rights to pursue freedom, democracy, and human rights,” Taiwan’s top China policy body said.

Human Rights Watch denounced the latest charge against Wong. “The harsh sentence on baseless charges against Joshua Wong is cruel and unjust. Young people promoting social change are an asset for any vibrant society, but the Hong Kong government puts them behind bars,” said Elaine Pearson, the group’s Asia director.

Amnesty International also criticised Wong’s additional sentence, saying it was “another grim reminder of how Hong Kong’s National Security Law has become a tool to punish dissent”.

Weeks after Sean “Diddy” Combs was hospitalized for a head injury suffered while serving time in federal prison, his release date has moved up.

The disgraced music and alcohol mogul is now set to be released on Feb. 6, 2028, nearly a month sooner than his projected release date last month, according to the Federal Bureau of Prisons inmate database. Combs was sentenced in October 2025 to more than four years in prison following his July conviction for transporting prostitutes across state lines for drug-fueled sex parties known as “freak-offs.”

The release date for Combs has changed multiple times since his conviction, and although he was initially projected to be freed in June 2028, the embattled producer’s release date has been moved forward and back, as dates frequently change due to a variety of factors.

Combs, 56, was reportedly placed in solitary confinement in late September following an NBC News report that he allegedly obtained a contraband cellphone, had access to a tablet that had been “jailbroken” to remove various restrictions and was stashing booze, often called pruno or toilet wine. The report also detailed ways in which Combs was allegedly living it up on the inside and receiving massages and special meals.

In October, after his head injury, the circumstances of which are unclear, he was transferred out of Fort Dix, a low-security federal prison in New Jersey, to another low-security prison, FCI Allenwood in Pennsylvania, where he is now an inmate in the general population.

“The continued scrutiny of every mundane detail of Sean Combs’s life in prison has reached the point where the media characterizes ordinary prison life as news,” a spokesperson for Combs said in a statement to NBC News. “The only real news is that Sean continues to serve his sentence while awaiting the court’s decision on his appeal.”

Times staff writers Alexandra Del Rosario and Andrea Flores contributed to this report.

Improving prison conditions for Abdullah Ocalan has been a key Kurdish demand in push to end PKK-Turkiye conflict.

Turkiye has moved the jailed founder of the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), Abdullah Ocalan, to a newly-built section of the island prison where he has been held for 27 years, pro-Kurdish legislators said as they urged Ankara to speed up the stalled peace process.

Mithat Sancar, a member of the Peoples’ Equality and Democracy Party (DEM) delegation that regularly visits Ocalan, confirmed the transfer on Saturday in an interview with the Kurdish television channel Medya Haber TV.

He said the move “necessitates an acceleration of the (peace) process”, which he said had been paused for two months. “The process cannot proceed with unilateral expectations and demands,” he said.

Fellow DEM politician Pervin Buldan said on Sunday that Ocalan himself had announced the transfer, but played down its significance.

“This new facility is part of the prison; it is not somewhere outside the prison,” she said, according to the AFP news agency. “The question of status cannot be defined solely by Mr Ocalan having moved to this location.”

Erbil-based broadcaster Kurdistan24 described the facility as a new house built for Ocalan on Imrali island. It said the move was seen as part of preparations to give him a more active role in the peace process. Better prison conditions for Ocalan have been a key Kurdish demand.

The PKK was founded in 1978 by Ocalan and others, initially fighting for an independent Kurdish state, before shifting its demands to autonomy and greater rights for Turkiye’s Kurds, who make up an estimated 15 to 20 percent of the population. The group launched an armed campaign against the Turkish state in 1984 and is designated a “terrorist” organisation by Turkiye, the United States and the European Union.

The conflict has killed more than 40,000 people. Ocalan has been held on Imrali, in the Sea of Marmara, since his capture in 1999.

In February last year, Ocalan called on the PKK to disband and disarm and the group announced its dissolution that May. Turkiye’s parliament adopted a law offering limited amnesty for PKK fighters in August and the PKK leadership has repeatedly demanded Ocalan’s release as part of the process.

Iran has sentenced award-winning filmmaker Jafar Panahi to five years and one month in prison and ordered the seizure of of all of his assets.

The “It Was Just an Accident” director was sentenced Monday, according to the Associated Press. The charges against Panahi, who’d returned to the country in March, remain unclear, per the outlet.

One of Iran’s most politically outspoken filmmakers, Panahi has been critical of the country’s leadership and condemned violence against anti-government protesters. He has previously been convicted of “propaganda activities against the system” and has repeatedly been imprisoned, banned from traveling and put under house arrest by Iranian authorities over the years.

Panahi filmed the Palme d’Or-winning “It Was Just an Accident” clandestinely in Iran following his release from a seven-month stint in prison in 2023 after he declared a hunger strike.

“I felt a huge burden on my shoulders when I left prison that made me feel I owed something to my fellow prisoners who were left behind,” Panahi told The Envelope earlier this year.

Panahi was detained by Iranian authorities in 2022 after inquiring about the arrests of fellow filmmakers Mohammad Rasoulof and Mostafa Al-Ahmad. Authorities then reimposed a six-year prison sentence that had never been enforced stemming from a 2010 conviction related to a documentary he was making about the disputed reelection of Iran’s then-president, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, and the protests that followed.

“This arrest was more like banditry and hostage-taking than the execution of a judicial sentence,” Panahi said in a statement from Tehran’s Evin Prison at the time.

Panahi’s lawyer, Mostafa Nili, told Iranian news site Emtedad that the filmmaker was currently involved in three open legal cases but had not been notified of the hearing date for the latest one, according to a report by the Guardian. Nili also said that the court imposed a two-year travel ban and has barred Panahi from using social media for two years.

President Laura Fernandez inaugurated the $35m mega-prison built to house up to 5,100 inmates near San Jose.

A newly opened maximum-security mega-prison in Costa Rica has received its first batch of inmates. The prison was built with the help of the Salvadoran government on the outskirts of the capital, San Jose, the country’s Justice Ministry announced.

The Costa Rican Justice Ministry shared images on Tuesday of 123 inmates dressed in orange, seated with their heads shaved and bowed and their hands behind their necks.

“Costa Rica is writing a new chapter in its penitentiary history,” Justice Minister Gabriel Aguilar said in a statement.

The new prison is called the High-Containment Center Against Organized Crime (CACCO) and constitutes a symbol of a new “tough on crime” approach championed by President Laura Fernandez’s administration. It has a capacity for 5,100 inmates.

The CACCO was built with the help of the Salvadoran government on the outskirts of Costa Rica’s capital, San Jose, at a cost of $35m. Fernandez inaugurated it on October 15.

“CACCO is a monument to national security, a forceful response to organized crime, and a guarantee that the state will exercise its authority without hesitation,” the statement added.

The new facility has a capacity equivalent to 20 percent of the country’s prison population and “will also help reduce overcrowding in the prison system”, according to Aguilar.

Costa Rica, long regarded as one of the safest countries in Latin America, has in recent years experienced a sharp rise in violence linked to drug trafficking and organised crime. It witnessed a record-setting 905 homicides in 2023, followed by 876 in 2024 and 873 in 2025.

Authorities attribute most killings to disputes between criminal groups over drug trafficking routes and markets.

Right-wing leaders in other Latin American countries have also sought to replicate the mega-prison model.

MINNEAPOLIS — A man who played a major role in defrauding a federal food program in Minnesota was sentenced Wednesday to 30 years in prison, the latest punishment in a sprawling scheme to collect millions of dollars during the COVID-19 pandemic by claiming to have fed needy children.

The depth of fraud in Minnesota — dozens of people have been convicted — has repeatedly drawn the attention of President Trump, who ridiculed the Democratic governor for failing to stop it and partly cited it as grounds for an extraordinary immigration crackdown in the state’s largest cities.

Salim Said operated Safari Restaurant in Minneapolis, which specialized in dishes from Somalia. He was accused of vastly overstating the number of meals when seeking payment for providing food. The government said he was responsible for $44 million in fraud, some of which was committed by others he recruited.

Said was claiming a “ridiculous daily distribution of 6,000 meals” while FBI cameras showed 40 people a day collecting food, prosecutors said in a court filing.

“The defendant and his sites did not serve thousands of children; he served a calculated, lucrative lie,” prosecutors said in court documents.

Said, a native of Somalia, denied the allegations while testifying at trial in 2025. He described his restaurant as a go-to spot for Somali immigrants in “Little Mogadishu” and said many meals were delivered.

“If you’re making good food,” Said told the jury, “people will come to you.”

Said’s attorney didn’t immediately return a message seeking comment on the decades-long sentence ordered by U.S. District Judge Nancy Brasel. A sentencing memo filed ahead of the hearing by his lawyer, Samuel Savage, was unavailable to the public.

COVID-19 brought changes to a federal program that typically fed children through schools. Restaurants could participate, and food distribution was extended to places outside schools.

“For 21 consecutive months, Said made thousands of fraudulent reimbursement claims, day after day, month after month,” prosecutors said. “Each submission represented meals purportedly provided to underprivileged children, yet the listed children themselves were entirely fictitious.”

The government said Said hit the jackpot: He bought a $1.2-million home, commercial real estate and an $87,000 pickup truck.

Said was convicted of a raft of charges in 2025, along with Aimee Bock, the leader of a Minnesota nonprofit, Feeding Our Future. She is serving a 42-year prison sentence for devising the overall plan to recruit Said and others to join the federal food program during the pandemic.

State auditors found that the Minnesota Department of Education received numerous complaints about Feeding Our Future, but often told the group to police itself. In January, Gov. Tim Walz said he would not run for reelection after being pounded by Trump about theft in programs that rely on federal cash.

Sean “Diddy” Combs has been relocated to a new prison, following reports of lavish prison perks and a head injury that saw him hospitalized.

The 56-year-old was transferred on Friday from FCI Fort Dix in New Jersey to FCI Allenwood, a low-security prison in Pennsylvania, a Bureau of Prisons spokesperson confirmed with The Times.

Combs’ representatives welcomed the change.

“We appreciate the Bureau of Prisons taking the safety and security of Sean and everyone involved seriously,” Combs’ spokesperson said in an email to The Times on Friday. “His transfer from one low-security facility to another is an important distinction, and while we cannot speak to the BOP’s specific reasons for the move, it is consistent with a decision made with safety and security in mind. We are grateful for the attention being given to his well-being and hope he can continue serving his time without unnecessary disruption.”

Although the Bureau of Prisons is not at liberty to disclose the reasons for the transfer, it has been a hectic series of weeks for the disgraced music mogul, who was convicted in July 2025 of transporting prostitutes across state lines for drug-fueled sex performances known as “freak-offs” and sentenced to 50 months in prison in October that year.

During his time at FCI Fort Dix, Combs was reportedly living a pampered lifestyle behind bars. Combs paid inmates to clean and cook special meals for him, including curry chicken, pizza and empanadas, and that the hip-hop artist also received Chinese-style massages, four sources told NBC News. They also reported that the hip-hop and R&B music producer obtained a contraband phone, had access to a “jailbroken” tablet and had smuggled an illegal stash of alcohol.

To pay for the labor, individuals outside of the prison were allegedly paying thousands of dollars into the commissary accounts of those serving the “Bad Boy for Life” rapper, the sources claimed.

Reports of his posh prison life emerged on Sept. 29, just as news of Diddy’s shortened prison stint made headlines. His release date had moved up to Jan. 21, 2028, a September search of the Federal Bureau of Prisons inmate database showed. Following the prison perk allegations against the “I’ll Be Missing You” singer, however, an updated search on the database revealed that his release was pushed to March 2, 2028.

Combs also was reportedly placed in solitary confinement on Sept. 30 shortly following the report of his prison perks. The producer remained in the special unit as late as Oct. 8.

But extra solitary time in the slammer wasn’t the last blow for the singer: Combs was rushed to the hospital Oct. 10 with a non-life-threatening head injury. Despite reports that Combs sustained the injury in a retaliatory attack by another inmate, a Federal Bureau of Prisons representative said that the reported fight is “false and did not happen,” according to Page Six.

SEAN “Diddy” Combs has been transferred to a new prison just days after he was hospitalised following a vicious brawl with another inmate, it is reported.

The disgraced music mogul was removed from his federal lock up in New Jersey, FCI Fort Dix, this morning.

Prison officials have not given a reason for the transfer to Allenwood in Pennsylvania, first reported by TMZ.

But Combs had been hauled into solitary confinement on two separate occasions for prison violations.

The former hip hop star was written up by staff at Fort Dix for phone violations and violent behaviour, the outlet reported.

Allenwood is a low security prison with just 1,000 inmates – compared with Fort Dix’s 4,000.

PRISON ‘PUNCH-UP’

Twist in Diddy ‘head injury’ mystery after claim rapper was hurt in fight

HOSPITAL DASH

Diddy ‘rushed to hospital with head injury’ after ‘medical emergency’

Combs, who has been behind bars since October 2025, reportedly suffered a medical emergency early Saturday morning.

It was later revealed he suffered a head injury in a brawl with Jamaican drug lord Christopher Coke, known as “Dudus”.

Multiple sources inside the prison told TMZ the pair came to blows last Friday but Dudus had the upper hand.

The fight was reportedly sparked over inmates’ anger at Combs for getting exposed in a recent NBC News report about his lavish lifestyle behind bars.

The shamed rapper reportedly had access to a cellphone, alcohol and had paid other inmates for their prescription medication.

As a result of the leak, prison officials conducted two raids and confiscated cell phones from inmates – including Dudas.

The convict – serving a 23-year sentence since 2012 – is a kingpin at the prison, sources told TMZ.

Combs was said to have been conscious and speaking following the alleged incident.

He was reportedly taken back to prison grounds before sunrise the same day.

After the punch- up, both men were reportedly hauled into solitary confinement for twoweeks’s punishment.

A rep for the Grammy winner previously told Page Six: “We are aware of the reports concerning Sean Combs and are working to confirm the circumstances.”

“Sean’s health and well-being are our immediate concern,” they continued, “and we appreciate everyone who has reached out.”

The shamed rapper was sentenced to 50 months in FCI Fort Dix prison last year on two charges related to prostitution.

Combs was acquitted on more serious charges of racketeering and sex trafficking.

He was due to be let out on May 8, 2028, under his initial sentencing terms but his final day behind bars has now been moved to January 21, 2028.

President Laura Fernandez says mega-prison is part of ‘tough-on-crime model’ embraced by her government.

Costa Rica has announced the opening of a new mega-prison amid near-record homicide levels and growing organised crime, as countries across the region embrace police crackdowns that have proven popular but often weaken key civil liberties.

President Laura Fernandez opened the High-Containment Centre Against Organised Crime, or CACCO, on Wednesday. The prison will have capacity for 5,100 people, equivalent to about 20 percent of the country’s current prison population.

“The CACCO will force criminals to face a new model – a tough-on-crime model. Costa Rica will become a global benchmark for prison security,” Fernandez said during an inauguration ceremony.

Candidates across Latin America have embraced mega-prisons, seeking to replicate the policies of Nayib Bukele, the president of El Salvador, who has won widespread popularity through a campaign of mass arrests and the suspension of basic rights in the name of combating crime.

Costa Rica, long spared from high levels of violent crime compared with its neighbours, saw a record-setting 905 homicides in 2023, followed by 876 in 2024 and 873 in 2025.

Analysts say that is partly due to increased fighting between criminal groups over lucrative drug routes.

The first transfers to Costa Rica’s new mega-prison will take place at the end of October, with Justice Minister Gabriel Aguilar saying the facility will help the government reassert control over the prison system and diminish infiltration by organised crime.

Right-wing leaders in other Latin American countries have also sought to replicate the mega-prison model.

Peruvian President Keiko Fujimori, inaugurated in July, has announced plans to tour El Salvador’s Terrorism Confinement Centre (CECOT), in anticipation of creating a similar facility in her country. CECOT can hold about 40,000 people.

In Colombia, meanwhile, newly elected leader Abelardo de la Espriella campaigned for the presidency, in part, on a pledge to build 10 mega-prisons. He took office in August.

Brazil, the largest country in Latin America, is currently in the midst of its own presidential election, and right-wing Senator Flavio Bolsonaro has advanced to the final round of the vote. His platform also includes building five mega-prisons, citing the Salvadoran model.

El Salvador first imposed a “state of exception” under Bukele in 2022, expanding police and military powers.

That emergency declaration has been credited with a sharp drop in that country’s homicides, but rights groups say it has led to severe rights abuses and has been weaponised against critics of the government.

The “state of exception” has also resulted in mass arrests and mass trials, with rulings delivered against hundreds of defendants at a time. Some defendants have been detained without charge.

While the Bukele administration frequently touts its success in dismantling the gangs, the government has continuously extended the state of exception since it was first imposed.

Critics have warned that conditions inside mega-prisons are often poor, with imprisoned people facing overcrowding, due process violations and alleged torture in facilities like CECOT.

SEAN “Diddy” Combs suffered a head injury in a vicious brawl with a Jamaican drug lord, sources have claimed.

The disgraced music mogul who has been behind bars since October 2025, reportedly suffered a medical emergency early Saturday morning.

Page Six initially reported that the 56-year-old had smacked his head on a bunk bed.

But in the latest twist to the mystery hospital visit, insiders told TMZ that Combs was injured in a brawl with fellow inmate Christopher Coke, known as “Dudus”.

Multiple sources inside Fort Dix FCI told the outlet the pair came to blows last Friday but Dudus had the upper hand.

Combs suffered a severe head injury that required medical treatment.

Read More On Entertainment

DIZZY DIDDY

Cause of Diddy’s head injury revealed after rapper rushed to hospital from jail

The Grammy winner was rushed out of the federal lockup in New Jersey at 1am local time on Saturday.

The fight was reportedly sparked over inmates’ anger at Combs for getting exposed in a recent NBC News report about his lavish lifestyle behind bars.

The shamed rapper reportedly had access to a cellphone, alcohol and had paid other inmates for their prescription medication.

As a result of the leak, prison officials conducted two raids and confiscated cell phones from inmates – including Dudas.

The convict – serving a 23-year sentence since 2012 – is a kingpin at the prison, sources told the outlet.

Combs was said to have been conscious and speaking following the alleged incident.

He was reportedly taken back to prison grounds before sunrise the same day.

After the punch- up, both men were reportedly hauled into solitary confinement for two week’ s punishment.

A rep for the Grammy winner previously told Page Six: “We are aware of the reports concerning Sean Combs and are working to confirm the circumstances.”

“Sean’s health and well-being are our immediate concern,” they continued, “and we appreciate everyone who has reached out.”

The hip-hop star was sentenced to 50 months in FCI Fort Dix prison last year on two charges related to prostitution.

Combs was acquitted on more serious charges of racketeering and sex trafficking.

His recent hospital visit follows a turbulent few months for the disgraced music producer.

In July he was reportedly thrown into solitary confinement after getting into a brawl inside his federal lockup.

Combs was accused of sparking a mass fight after being insulted by a fellow inmate.

Combs had his prison time cut again in September.

He was due to be let out on May 8, 2028, under his initial sentencing terms but his final day behind bars has now been moved to January 21, 2028.

Sean “Diddy” Combs’ stay in federal prison has taken yet another turn. The disgraced music and alcohol mogul has been hospitalized after suffering a head injury, The Times has learned.

Combs, 56, is receiving treatment for the head injury, sources say. A representative for the fallen Bad Boy Records founder said in a statement to The Times, “We are aware of the reports concerning Sean Combs and are working to confirm the circumstances. Sean’s health and well-being are our immediate concern, and we appreciate everyone who has reached out.”

A spokesperson for FCI Ft. Dix, a low-security federal prison in New Jersey, did not comment. Combs, who is behind bars for two counts of a prostitution-related charge, was rushed to a hospital on Saturday for a non-life-threatening injury, TMZ reported. Combs reportedly was conscious and speaking before his hospitalization, according to the outlet.

Combs and his time in FCI Fort Dix recently made headlines when NBC News reported last month that the musician had been paying men for special services, including paying inmates to clean and cook special meals for him. Curry chicken, pizza and empanadas were reportedly among those special meals. NBC News also reported that the hip-hop and R&B music producer also receives Chinese-style massages. Combs also allegedly obtained a contraband phone, had access to a “jailbroken” tablet and had smuggled an illegal stash of alcohol.

“The continued scrutiny of every mundane detail of Sean Combs’s life in prison has reached the point where the media characterizes ordinary prison life as news,” a spokesperson for Combs said in a statement to NBC News.“The only real news is that Sean continues to serve his sentence while awaiting the court’s decision on his appeal.”

After NBC News shed light on Combs’ alleged prison privileges, the rapper was reportedly moved back to solitary confinement.

Combs was sentenced in October 2025 to 50 months in prison after he was convicted of transporting prostitutes across state lines for drug-fueled sex performances known as “freak-offs.” After some back-and-forth with his prison sentence, he is currently set to be released in March 2028.

Times staff writer Andrea Flores and Richard Winton contributed to this report.