An op-ed in the local San Gabriel Valley tribune is a strong testament to the changing sentiments of victims’ families, a growing number of whom are not adequately represented by punitive organizations such as Crime Victims United of California and the like. Judy Kerr’s op-ed eloquently provides a humonetarian critique of the death penalty from the perspective of the family of a murder victim.
In California, in the last ten years, 46 percent of murders went unsolved. This means over 25,000 murders remain unsolved, and 25,000 other families are waiting, like mine, to know who killed their loved ones. And it means as many as 25,000 killers roam freely on our streets. In the midst of this crisis of unsolved murders, we are also facing the biggest budget crisis in our state’s history. While people literally get away with murder, the public safety network in California has unraveled. Police officers in every county in the state are being laid off. And, in every county, we are cutting back on homicide investigations and eliminating victims’ services.
As thousands of family members wait for justice only to be told there is not enough money to fund an investigation, we watch as hundreds of millions of dollars are spent on the death penalty each year. Death penalty appeals, special housing for death row inmates, additional corrections officers to monitor them, a double-trial system which separates guilt and penalty phases – the costs associated with the death penalty are endless.
Many hear this and ask: Can’t we just speed up the execution process? Reports from respected judges and criminal justice experts, both for and against the death penalty, have shown that the only way to make the system move faster while still preventing the execution of an innocent person is to spend even more money.
This local op-ed is notable for various reasons – its invocation of a humonetarian discourse, its disavowal of the traditional victim sentiments – but it is particularly important because a legislative proposal to abolish the death penalty in California is on the agenda, advanced and advertised for humonetarian reasons.
The court’s first benchmark orders the corrections department to lower it prisoner population to 167 percent of capacity by Dec. 27. The department says it expects to reach that benchmark by Jan. 27, 2012.
Corrections department spokesman Oscar Hidalgo said the delay is necessary to allow the department to get a better estimate of the state’s prisoner population.
In a declaration in support of Wednesday’s filing, Jay Atkinson, the department’s acting deputy director of the Office of Research, said:
“CDCR forecasts population levels by using a simulation model, which employs data trends and projected new admissions, to determine how long the new admissions will stay, the number of offenders who will be returned to prison, and how long they and the current inmates will stay. …This simulation is repeated for each individual inmate until the total population is projected. After the Fall 2011 projection is completed, staff in the Office of Research will project the impact on CDCR’s population that Assembly Bill 109, the realignment legislation, will have.”
The decrowding process is being executed pursuant to the Realignment law. Stay tuned in the next months for a blow-by-blow followup on the decrowding process.
He refused to eat anything that he did not know was animal-free, and as a result, his weight plummeted nearly 50 pounds to 155.
“I don’t want animal corpses on my plate,” said Mr. McDonald, who is now free on bail. “My belief in not hurting animals is more powerful than any religious belief.”
Had Mr. McDonald said he was a vegetarian for religious reasons, or because of a medical condition, the county would have been legally required to comply. But Marin County officials said that simply believing in the sanctity of animal life was not enough.
This story, dealing perhaps with whom some might see as an atypical inmate, may bring to middle class’s consciousness the deeply rooted problems in an incarceration system based on selective incapacitation and a refusal to see its charges as individuals. We’ve discussed diets here before, when reporting on the addition of a Halal food option as one of the “five faiths” recognized by CDCR and on a study finding a decline in inmate violence when prison diet improves. But today’s story highlights another important aspect of prison nutrition.
Food plays a fundamental role not only in human survival, but also in self expression. The Internet is populated by abundant food blogs and articles. Food is a source of pleasure for many of us, but for many it is also an opportunity to live our beliefs and values through out palate. Recent online battles in the wars of vegetarianism and veganism brought home just how much people care about these food choices. Michael Pollan has proclaimed a set of rules for omnivores: “Eat food. Not too much. Mostly Plants.” Author Jonathan Safran Foer has written Eating Animals in defense of vegetarianism. Eric Schlosser’s Fast Food Nation, and the movies Food, Inc and Super Size Me, highlighted the many harms of an agribusinesss-managed food economy. Nina Planck’s critique of vegan diets for children was strongly criticized for its portrayal of vegans. A well-known vegan food blogger recently moved away from her vegan diet for health reasons and received harsh critique and death threats from the vegan community. And then there’s Lierre Keith‘s recent book The Vegetarian Myth, in which she speaks against industrialized, monopolized agriculture, saying vegetarianism and veganism still participate in a system that is fundamentally unjust – opinions for which she has been assaulted in public appearances. While it’s best to leave the discussion of the nutritional and political merits of vegetarianism and veganism to blogs that focus on such matters, clearly these folks’ food choices – on both sides of the debate – are inexorably tied to their identities, to the point that they are willing to endure harm to themselves or threat harm to others in the name of these choices.
The point is not to admire or criticize vegetarian, vegan, locavore, organic, paleo, low carb, low fat, or any other diet choice. The point is to remind all of us that people in custody are denied these choices. And for many people, the choice not to consume flesh or use animal product is as important and as deeply held as someone else’s sincere belief in one of the “five faiths.”Apparently, in California, vegetarian and vegan options are offered in state prisons as a courtesy; vegan meals started being provided after mass arrests of PETA members, prior to which they were only offered on a religious basis. As we see in today’s paper, in local jails the situation can be more precarious. As to other ideological choices, individualization is problematic. The implications of dietary choices touch on fundamental issues of prison management. Will the meal be served buffet style, so inmates have some choice in what is put on their plates? In supermax institutions and SHU units, does one have a say in what is pushed into one’s cell? Understandably, a system providing food to 160,000 people cannot make concessions for people’s tastes and whims, and I imagine the political outcry that would result if it did. But as it stands, the official stance on food choices, tying them inexorably to religion and offering few concessions beyond that, is discriminatory and illogical. Moreover, cheap as it may seem to feed many people uniformly (and badly), the price is paid in the form of violent behavior and health costs.
I’m also wondering what prison and jail policies are with respect to people whose diets are shaped not by their ideological preferences, but by their allergies and intolerances. If you’ll allow me a personal comment, it is difficult enough to be wheat intolerant in the accepting world of the Bay Area, where abundant choices exist. Bread is a basic food stable; it is cheap and mass produced, and as such, is the cornerstone of any attempt to feed people on a large scale in an industrial complex. The prison industrial complex is no different. So, is an inmate diagnosed with celiac, for example, offered an energy source in lieu of bread, like rice and potatoes? How can a system of mass incarceration ensure no contamination, when consuming even a small amount of wheat can be extremely debilitating and, in the longer term, lethal? And what about inmates who have anaphylactic reactions to certain kinds of food? True, exquisite shellfish are not on the menu in most prisons, but what about folks extremely sensitive to albumin, a component of egg? And what about the many people who have suffered digestive, respiratory, and musclo-skeletal debilitating conditions all their lives because they do not have the resources to be diagnosed with an allergy? In California’s broken correctional medical system, what are the odds that someone like that will be flagged as suffering from a real condition, let alone diagnosed with a specific allergy? Managing allergies is difficult enough for us average folks on the outside. I can’t even imagine what the protocols for such a situation are on the inside, nor can I imagine any concessions made to the general diet to accommodate them. If any of our readers is better informed about this, please share your information in the comments.
Addendum: Of course, all this discussion underscores the use of food refusal, in the form of a hunger strike, as a political tool. We remember Pelican Bay inmates and other inmates and their hunger strike. Stay strong.
California has often been proclaimed ungovernable, its politics described either as too dense to fathom or, in an oversimplified fashion, as a mess generated by unfettered direct democracy and shortsighted financial policies. But some astute political actors have accrued the knowledge and skills to navigate these complex political seas, and the California Correctional Peace Officers’ Association (CCPOA) is one of them. Joshua Page’s new book The Toughest Beat clearly and intelligently transcends theoretical abstractions and simplistic clichés to provide a sobering, thorough analysis of the CCPOA’s role in shaping California’s penal policies, and in doing so, provides an excellent primer to the entire landscape of California politics and decisionmaking.
The book begins with a detailed, fascinating history of the rise of the CCPOA from an “old boys’ club” providing social opportunities and camaraderie for its members to a powerful player in state legislation and policy. Using a myriad of sources, in the tradition of “old-school,” well-done ethnographies, the book cleverly tells this story oscillating between the macro world of the state and national contexts and the microcosm of specific personalities. Don Novey‘s role as the architect of the CCPOA’s lobbying and influence strategy is particularly highlighted. Emphasis is placed on the CCPOA’s bipartisan alliances with Democracts (with respect to union concerns) and Republicans (with respect to punitiveness concerns).
This account is followed by two somber chapters, which illuminate the role played by CCPOA in shaping penal policies. The first reveals the complex interdependency between the CCPOA and a few victim organizations, such as the Crime Victims United of California; the latter organizations, representing the interest of specific demographics and a particularly punitive and vengeful victim perspective, were effectively created, managed, and puppeteered by CCPOA. Rather than flinging radical accusations and conspiracy theories, Page’s careful analysis of this web of interdependency and coalitions is understated and backed with hard evidence, including a personnel and finances analysis and ethnographic data. The CCPOA’s wisdom in fostering such mutually beneficial coalitions with victim organizations, district attorneys, sheriffs, and wealthy private citizens, is grimly shown to prove itself in the following chapter, which analyzes, blow-by-blow, the passage of the Three Strikes Law, California’s pioneering piece of punitive legislation. While the story behind California’s return to determinate sentencing, and the subsequent story of its romance with an ultrapunitive sentencing regime, are a larger story than that of the CCPOA, the union played a pivotal role in selected phases, and was a dominant factor in swinging the punitive pendulum. This account is an indictment not only against CCPOA, but against a system in which the idea of direct democracy is marred by a reality of unregulated funding, misleading advertisements and abundant disinformation and ignorance.
But Page’s book cannot be reduced to a good guy/bad guy formula. His masterful account of the CCPOA’s epic fight against prison privatization shows the different strategies employed by CCPOA and the private prison corporations, and relies on a deep, intuitive understanding of how the state works to explain how, despite resorting to nefarious techniques such as building a prison on speculation, the private companies did not prevail.
The book reads like a fascinating political thriller. It does not resort to extremism or unfounded proclamations, is concisely written, and is refreshingly free of jargon. Page’s reliance on Pierre Bordieu’s field analysis as his theoretical framework is light-handed and nimble; the theory facilitates, rather than obscures, the book’s clear narrative. It is a book that professionals and laypeople alike would appreciate and enjoy.
I take issue with two minor aspects of Page’s analysis. Firstly, in presenting the punitive background for the rise of the CCPOA, Page paints the “era of rehabilitation” and indeterminate sentencing in nostalgic, overly rosy colors. While the rhetoric and logic of rehabilitation and positivism governed the penal field in California, studies of actual incarceration practice and conditions reveal a grim picture of cruelty, hard labor in the guise of correction at the time, not to mention the arbitrary sentencing practices which dramatically disfavored minority and poor inmates. Determinate sentencing led to a great many evils in California’s correctional system, but it was preceded by a great many evils in its prior regime, which many activists and legal professionals fought to eradicate for all the right reasons.
Second, Page portrays the CCPOA in two somewhat contradictory ways: As an astute political player, who will choose alliances according to what suits its members’ narrow interests, and as an ideologically-committed “law and order” player. I am curious as to which of these frameworks he finds to be a better descriptor. When presenting the CCPOA’s involvement in the creation of Three Strikes, Page refers to it as an “exception” to the “nonintervention rule” regarding sentencing matters, adopted by the union, but his analysis of the involvement and ideological choices made could also regard Three Strikes as a pivotal moment in CCPOA policy, in which it morphed into an ideological player. As Page grimly reminds us at the end of the book, despite CCPOA’s support of sentencing commissions and seemingly more reasonable positions, its powerful, debilitating shadow still looms large over any attempt to reform the correctional system, and its interests in hindering such reforms go beyond its union objectives.
Notwithstanding these minor critiques, The Toughest Beat is a terrific read, and I highly recommend it not only to readers interested in penal policies, but to anyone interested in the inner workings of the political system in the Golden State.
A 30-prisoner standoff broke out in the Wilkinson Road jail Thursday night after prisoners decided an inmate had been denied hospitalization and proper medication.
The inmate has liver cancer and hepatitis C, said Camille Davis, whose boyfriend, Samuel McGrath, is in the same unit as the sick prisoner.
Around 9 p.m., 30 inmates refused to be locked up because they said the issue wasn’t being addressed, said Dean Purdy, a corrections officer supervisor and chairman of the Corrections and Sheriffs Service for the B.C. Government and Service Employees’ Union. The B.C. Corrections Branch could not be reached for comment.
The result was a 25-minute standoff by the 30 inmates, who wanted the ailing prisoner to be sent to hospital, said Davis.
After the standoff, the sick prisoner was taken to hospital.
It would be rather simplistic to ascribe the differences between this coverage of this incident to the CA newspaper coverage of the Pelican Bay hunger strike, but nonetheless, I can’t resist noticing four peculiar things:
1) Page 4? This Victoria Jail is, apparently, not invisible to the public.
2) Coverage is decidedly sympathetic to the inmates and reports of their success. Note – this is a protest, not a “riot”, and the beginning of the story expands on the inmate’s medical condition and the urgent need to hospitalize him.
3) The first interviewee is the girlfriend of one of the inmates. I don’t recall seeing any CA newspaper being the least bit attentive to inmate families.
And, 4) – the big shocker – here’s what the correctional authority had to say about the protest:
“We’re severely overcrowded and it only stands to reason that when prisoners are incarcerated under these conditions, stress and agitation levels of inmates are going to be very high.”
Wilkinson and eight other provincial jails are operating at 180 per cent of capacity, said Purdy.
He said the overcrowding increases the risk of violent behaviour, escape and deteriorating working conditions for correctional officers.
Overcrowding promotes a “mob-like mentality,” he said. “It’s a recipe for disaster.”
Does anyone recall a current holder of a correctional position in the US offering such mild commentary about an inmate protest?
A New York Times editorial this week picked up the story about the Pelican Bay hunger strike, offering support for the strikers.
With their health deteriorating, those inmates continuing to fast resumed eating after state prison officials met a few modest demands. Inmates in Pelican Bay’s isolation unit will get wool caps for cold weather, wall calendars to mark the passing time and some educational programming. Prison officials said current isolation and gang management policies are under review. But the protest has raised awareness about the national shame of extended solitary confinement at Pelican Bay and at high-security, “supermax” prisons all around the country.
Once used occasionally as a short-term punishment for violating prison rules, solitary confinement’s prevalent use as a long-term prison management strategy is a fairly recent development, Colin Dayan, a professor at Vanderbilt University, said in a recent Op-Ed article in The Times. Nationally, more than 20,000 inmates are confined in “supermax” facilities in horrid conditions.
Prison officials claim the treatment is necessary for combating gang activity and other threats to prison order. It is possible to maintain physical separation of prisoners without ultraharsh levels of deprivation and isolation. Mississippi, which once set the low bar for terrible prison practices, saw a steep reduction of prison violence and ample monetary savings when it dramatically cut back on long-term solitary several years ago.
And there’s a humonetarian angle, too:
Holding prisoners in solitary also is very expensive, and several other states have begun to make reductions. In any case, decency requires limits. Resorting to a dehumanizing form of punishment well known to induce suffering and drive people into mental illness is beyond them.
San Francisco District Attorney Candidates Debate – Civil Rights and Criminal Justice Reform With candidates Sharmin Bock, David Onek, George Gascon and Vu Trinh
Doors open at 6:30pm 762 Fulton Street
Sponsored by Lawyers’ Committee for Civil Rights, ACLU-Northern California, African American Art & Culture Complex, Asian Law Caucus, Chinese for Affirmative Action, Citizen Hope, Equal Justice Society, Equal Rights Advocates, and Hastings Race and Poverty Law Journal
This event will be the first opportunity for all three of the major candidates for San Francisco District Attorney to engage in a dialogue with each other, leading civil rights advocacy organizations, and the community about critical issues in criminal justice and public safety policy.
Candidates will be asked to discuss topics such as the disproportionate impact of the criminal justice system on communities of color, alternatives to incarceration, immigration, police misconduct, criminal justice realignment under AB 109, and policies to promote reentry and reduce recidivism.
The leadership of the San Francisco District Attorney is essential in ensuring that the city’s criminal justice system is fair and equitable and fully respects civil rights. The San Francisco DA has also often played a critical leadership role in advocating for progressive and smart criminal justice policies statewide and nationwide.
With the recent Supreme Court case ordering a reduction of nearly 40,000 prisoners from California’s prison system and major changes at the state level re-aligning responsibilities for implementing public safety, the need for bold and innovative leadership on criminal justice policy is especially urgent.
We look forward to seeing you there. If you have questions for the candidates, please post them as a comment below.
Click here for the event flyer : http://www.lccr.com/SFDA_Debate_8.3.11.pdf
Two strikes have large impact on prison population
California’s “three strikes” law is best known for locking up career criminals for life, but the vast majority of offenders serving prison time under the sentencing mandate were actually charged under the less-noticed second-strike provision.
These 32,390 inmates are serving sentences that were doubled as a strike-two penalty, and they account for nearly 20 percent of the state’s prison population. Yet most efforts to reform the law have focused exclusively on the third-strike provision, which carries with it a mandatory 25 years-to-life sentence.
As prison costs in California continue to grow, and the state faces a Supreme Court order to reduce its inmate population by more than 30,000 over the next two years, the tens of thousands of second-strikers appear to pose a bigger challenge to state officials attempting to rein in prison costs than the 8,700 people serving time for a third strike.
“We’re missing the significance of the second strike,” said UC Berkeley’s Barry Krisberg, director of research and policy at the school’s Institute on Law and Social Policy. “It is having an enormous impact on our prison population, and many second-strikers are serving more time than third-strikers, but when people talk about the policy of reforming three strikes, nobody wants to touch the second strike.”
‘Arbitrary’ sentencing
Under the three strikes law, approved by the Legislature and voters in 1994, anyone who was convicted of a serious or violent felony in the past can be charged with a strike if they commit a new felony. Someone charged with a second strike under the law will face double the prison time, regardless of whether the new offense is serious or violent; those charged with a third strike automatically are eligible for a 25 years-to-life sentence.
San Francisco Public Defender Jeff Adachi said the law means that someone convicted of petty theft or burglary who had a prior felony could face four to six years in prison instead of two to three years; and someone convicted of armed robbery would spend at least a decade behind bars instead of five years – or perhaps longer if prosecutors added on sentencing enhancements for using a gun.
“The problem with strike sentences is that it’s not based on an individual determination of protecting the public and ensuring that the personal characteristics of the accused are taken into consideration,” he said. “The rationale for second-strike cases really is arbitrary because you’re not making a determination as to whether this person needs to be locked up. It’s a mathematical equation that you’re up against.”
Most past reform efforts have focused on limiting when someone can be convicted of a third strike. Krisberg, however, said the tens of thousands of inmates serving sentences for second strikes demonstrate that piecemeal reform of three strikes will not solve the state’s larger prison problem: “stiff, determinate sentencing.”
“The fact that second-strikers make up such a huge part of the prison population should tell people that that’s where we should focus our energy,” he said.
Reasons behind costs
Critics of the law, seen as the harshest in the nation, often focus their complaints on the most egregious cases, such as people serving life sentences for shoplifting, drug possession and other nonviolent offenses. But the costs of the second strike are significant as well.
For one, offenders sentenced in the future under three strikes won’t be eligible to be diverted to local jails – even if their most recent crime is nonviolent – under Gov. Jerry Brown’s realignment plan, which calls for keeping more low-level inmates in the community. Those sentenced under the law also stay in prison longer, because they are only eligible to earn a fraction of the “good-time” credits that other inmates may accrue.
“That’s (one) big difference with strike cases – even if it’s a nonserious felony, they have to do 85 percent of their sentence,” Adachi said.
Additionally, anyone sentenced under “three strikes” is likely more expensive to house, because under state prison policies, their long sentence automatically classifies them as a higher-security inmate, even if their latest offense was not violent.
Jeanne Woodford, a former Corrections Department chief who spent most of her career as a correctional officer, then warden at San Quentin Prison, said the “three strikes” law has unquestionably helped drive the state’s prison crowding and spending problems, in part because higher-security inmates must be housed in cells, rather than dormitory-style situations. She said those sentenced under the second strike provision are a bigger issue for state officials than those in prison for a third strike.
“Some of these guys are literally serving 60, 70 years – more time than three-strikers,” she said. “The bottom line is that we really do need to look at our sentences. They are just so all over the place that people could commit a very serious crime and get less time than a second-striker who did something far less serious. To be a deterrent, the sentencing system has to be consistent.”
Krisberg agreed, pointing to a report he authored in 2008, which concluded that the biggest driver of California’s growing prison population isn’t the number of criminals behind bars, but the amount of time they spend there. He calls “three strikes” the coup de grace of the determinate sentencing movement, which began in the 1970s and grew over the years to include not just tougher penalties but also fewer opportunities for early release if inmates behave well.
How much is enough?
Longer sentences are especially troublesome when it comes to second-strikers, he said, because they are often eligible for sentencing enhancements on top of an automatically doubled sentence.
“If you get enhancements then a double penalty, you could end up serving 40 years, and it’s not subject to (appeal) – they have to serve all their time,” he said. “It comes back to the issue: What’s enough time? Sometime along the way we’ve changed the assumption about what’s proportionate, what’s fair, what people deserve.”
Second-strikers also have the potential to drive up prison costs in future years because they tend to come to prison in their 30s and 40s and often have decades-long sentences – setting the stage for growing medical costs as they age. A 2010 report by state auditor Elaine Howle concluded that on average, people sentenced under the law receive a sentence nine years longer than they would have without three strikes, at a cost of $19.2 billion to taxpayers. Nearly half of that additional cost, $7.5 billion, is spent on people whose most recent strike is for a nonviolent felony.
The report also found that a small, severely ill portion of the prison population accounts for 25 percent of the approximately $2 billion the state spends on inmate health care every year.
Aging inmates tend to cost more, said Nancy Kincaid, a spokeswoman for the federal receiver in charge of medical care in state prisons. And, she said, those who are severely ill often have to be treated at hospitals outside prison walls – at an even higher cost to taxpayers.
“Our largest driver of costs is outside contract medical care, at $390 million a year,” she said. “Those inmates are the ones that are … here long-term and are going to age and likely die in prison. The majority of medical costs come after age 60.”
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