Medical Parole Law in Action: The State Focuses on Expensive Inmates

SB1399, recently passed by the legislature, allows the state to grant inmates medical parole. It confirms sections already in the existing penal code, but note the cost-related rationale:

The California state prison health system has identified 21 inmates whose average annual health care and guard costs total more than $1.97 million apiece. This is approximately $41.4 million a year for the care of 21 prisoners. These inmates are located in off-site nursing facilities or hospitals which require paying guard time, even though these prisoners are severely incapacitated. Eleven other inmates are inside prison health centers, where their annual medical bills average $114,395 each. There are currently 1,300 California state inmates whose health care costs exceed $100,000 a year. Inmates released on medical parole would shift the cost of their health care from the state to the federal government as prisoners cannot enroll in Medi-Cal or Medicare, but paroles [sic] can.

CDCR news has reported granting medical parole to the 7th inmate since the passage of the law.

As I’ve said elsewhere, humonetarianism is not unlike the risk management regime that has permeated corrections in that it is busy conducting selective incapacitation and grouping people into categories. But note the shift in focus: Rather than focusing on risk as the dominant category for classification, we are now focusing on cost.  The cost-centered discourse and practice are shifting the way we look at the prison population. Rather than focusing on the high-risk inmates, we are focusing on the expensive ones as targets for reform and legislation.

Oh, and apropos costs: I’m working on a book that examines the impact of the financial crisis on the American correctional landscape, focusing particularly on California. Basically, it would be a book about humonetarianism. Your thoughts and contributions about this fascinating phenomenon, which I’ve been documenting here for the last two and a half years, are most welcome.

Isolation at SHU Reconsidered

The Pelican Bay hunger strike has created a ripple effect of attention. This morning’s piece on the San Jose Mercury News is encouraging.

State regulations say there are two ways to enter the Security Housing Unit: commit a new violation while incarcerated or be a validated member of one of six prison gangs.
It is the gang designation that has caused the most controversy.


At the Assembly hearing, several speakers said the California Department of Corrections should move from showing mere association with a gang to proving criminal activity.


“I’ve seen a great deal of variance as to how gang validation protocols are applied,” said San Francisco Bay Area attorney Charles Carbone. He attributes the “wildly different interpretation” to a lack of training, and said gang validations are “decided by personality, not by policy.”


Many relatives of SHU inmates said their loved ones had been unjustly validated. For example, one of the three pieces of evidence needed to validate an inmate could be the word of a debriefing informant or possession of a George Jackson book, such as “Soledad Brother.”


Jackson was a founder of the Black Guerilla Family, which corrections officials define as a prison gang. He was shot to death by prison guards in San Quentin Prison during an escape attempt.


In addition to those who may have been wrongfully labeled, the SHU is by gang members’ own admissions home to members and leaders of the Nuestra Familia, Aryan Brotherhood, Mexican Mafia and the Black Guerilla Family.


In fact, the Nuestra Familia’s rules state that its top leaders must reside in Pelican Bay’s Security Housing Unit. Current and former gang members have told The Monterey County Herald they thought it was a point of pride to be sent to the SHU, because all the leaders were housed there.
To earn a gang SHU term, corrections regulations state that an inmate must be more than a street gang member, such as Norteño or Sureño.


The SHU stay for a prison gang member is indeterminate, meaning the inmate cannot leave the unit until his prison sentence ends — or he leaves his gang through a process of debriefing, which carries the stigma of “snitching.”


Corrections officials have contended this is the only viable way, because transferring an active prison gang member into the general population would jeopardize inmate and officer safety.
Other states, though, offer programs based on good behavior that can lead to release from a SHU without having to inform on others.


California corrections undersecretary Scott Kernan said his department is studying SHU criteria from 28 other states and is developing new policies.


Those policies will next be reviewed by “stakeholders,” he said.

Not a week goes by that I don’t receive a letter from Pelican Bay, in which an inmate protests a wrongful classification as gang member. Reconsidering the way in which these classifications are made is long overdue.

SB9, Review of Juvenile LWOP: A Few Misperceptions Corrected

Our posts about SB9 yielded several reader comments, some of which I had to refrain from publishing because of their incendiary tone. I thought it might be worthwhile to tackle some of the misapprehensions regarding SB9. While I think SB9 is a great idea and endorse it wholeheartedly, I am not officially affiliated, politically or financially, with Senator Yee or anyone else involved. Therefore, consider this an academic’s opinion, rather than political propaganda.

This proposal sets dangerous people loose in the streets.

The proposal addresses only two hundred inmates or so, and none of them is being set loose in the street quite yet. What the bill does is allow a judge to review again the case of juveniles sentenced to LWOP after they have already served at least a fifteen-year sentence. And even then, the judge will only have the ability to modify the sentence to twenty-five to life. Overall, it’s a fairly mild proposition.

Aren’t these people dangerous?


Well, some of them might be, and some of them might not. It will be up to the judge to review their history, when petitioned to do so, and to assess whether it is risky to make them eligible for parole. There will be discretion about this. What we know about the trajectory of criminal careers tends to suggest that, for many folks who committed crime in their teens, age tends to “mellow people out” and they become less dangerous as they age.


If it’s only a few hundred people, why is this such a big deal?

In the grand scheme of things, it’s not a big deal at all. A handful of inmates will be serving a very long prison term, rather than an even longer one. But the difference to the individual, in terms of offering a ray of hope, is immense.

Doesn’t that teach juveniles that it’s okay to murder?

Not at all. Twenty-five to life is a very long time for a young person. And that’s assuming that juveniles even think about the repercussions when committing crimes, many of which are expressive crimes rather than cold, calculated ones.

We’re not really saving a lot of money by letting these people out earlier than expected, are we?

That’s impossible to answer accurately without proper data. However, it stands to reason that the older our inmate population is, the more we’ll be spending on its health care, which is already approximately one third of our correctional budget. Letting someone out when he or she is in his or her fifties, rather than letting him or her die behind bars, might spare us some of the costlier inmates and allow us to focus resources on others who need urgent care.

They committed murder and deserve never to see the light of day again.

Well, that is a legitimate opinion, but what someone “deserves” depends on your definition of just desert. Spending twenty-five to life behind bars, subject to violence, overcrowding, and prisons devoid of rehabilitative programming is very far from being a walk in the park.

What about the victims’ families?
That is very much a matter of personal feeling. Many families of murder victims feel immense amounts of rage and sadness and translate those to a wish that the perpetrator of their tragedy rot behind bars. That is understandable. But it doesn’t mean that the state has to grant these wishes to the letter. Moreover, there are plenty of families of victims who do not derive satisfaction from revenge or retribution, and would much rather the money spent on incarceration be spent on more and better homicide investigation, to prevent future tragedies. There are many people who feel this way; the media exposes you to the vocal, angry ones, and they do not necessarily represent everyone.

If the legislators think LWOP sentences should be reviewed, why not abolish LWOP for juveniles altogether?

At this point, Supreme Court case law regards LWOP for juveniles as constitutional for murder (not for other offenses.) Maybe future cases will follow the rationale of Roper v. Simmons and extend the abolition of LWOP to murder as well. But this is an opportunity to do something, now.

For a matter pertaining to so few people, this is eating up plenty of public energy and discourse. Why are we dealing with this, rather than with death penalty abolition and fighting mass incarceration?

Because this is easier to achieve, and these folks need some attention, too. But there is a bill on the CA ballot to abolish the death penalty. There’s also a bill to reform the Three Strikes Law. And it’s about time.

Crimmigration: The Dark Side

The Lawyers’ Committee for Civil Rights, with the ACLU and several other civil rights organizations, have filed a lawsuit seeking to stop the practice of shackling undocumented immigrants appearing before immigration court. The Huffington Post reports:

According to the lawsuit, the overwhelming majority of prisoners who show up in immigration courts have no violent criminal history. The lawsuit seeks to compel the Department of Homeland Security to make individual determinations about shackling rather than have a blanket policy. DHS officials declined to comment Wednesday.

This practice, and others, are an example of the false dichotomy between criminal and immigration matters. Make no mistake – these two issues are closely interrelated, as the financing of Arizona’s SB 1070 by private companies demonstrates. Shackling is a distressing practice, and we’ll be following this lawsuit closely.

Extra credit: As always, the question if one of incrementalism versus radicalism: Is the call to “stop treating undocumented immigrants as criminals” equivalent to a call that perpetuates treating criminals the way we have been treating them? Hmmmm.

Book Review: The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander

A couple of months ago I attended a dinner fundraiser by the American Friends Service Committee and had the pleasure of hearing Michelle Alexander speak about her book (full video of the speech, as well as an interview with Alexander, available here.) I immediately bought a copy of the book and was very much looking forward to reading it. It did not disappoint, and while its basic argument is not novel, the book presents it in a compelling, engaged way.

The New Jim Crow is an attempt to take the prison-slavery comparison, often made as hyperbole, seriously. In order to do so, the book begins by providing a basic and concise introduction to race relations in the United States before, during, and after slavery. Readers unfamiliar with the post-reconstruction nadir of American race relations would do well to examine the particulars of life at the time, because, as Alexander demonstrates, much of the racial discrimination we see today through the correctional system has its roots in the disenfranchisement and separation of those days. Simply put, in the aftermath of the Civil War, the seeds were planted for a thriving system of discrimination and segregation that would utilize very similar methods to create a caste system, originally based on the color of one’s skin, and now using one’s status as a felon as proxy for said color.

The following two chapters provide a basic summary of the criminal process, relying for the most part on Supreme Court cases, and demonstrating how racial biases permeate the process from policing till release from prison. Readers with legal and socio-legal backgrounds may find these chapters somewhat oversimplified and spot some inaccuracies, but for a general audience this overview clearly communicates the message: A seemingly colorblind system is loaded with opportunities for discretion that generates the overrepresentation of African American men in the criminal process, and by exposing them in vast disproportion to this horrifying experience, generates an underclass deprived of a share in American conformity.

Alexander sets out to show that the role of race in the criminal process and in mass incarceration is not accidental. This argument, in itself, is not new. In her 1999 book Making Crime Pay, Katherine Beckett provides a full analysis of the political campaigns of the late 1960s and clearly shows how Nixon, and other candidates, relied on fear of crime and rising crime rates to confront, head on, the civil rights movement of the 1960s. The Warren Court’s lenient approach to defendants, and its tendency to generate bright-line rules limiting the discretionary powers of the police and prosecution, became the enemy, and was a thinly-veiled foil for the ‘real’ enemy, race inequality. Alexander’s book, however, makes this argument more accessible to the general public. By substituting crime for race, Nixonian politics succeeded in combating their real enemy, while maintaining a façade of race-neutrality.

My favorite chapters of the book are the last ones, in which Alexander takes on the broader implications for society of a caste system driven by crime control. She discusses the impact of criminal record and inmate disenfranchisement on a complete alienation of the African-American community from the political process and from access to basic necessities and rights. And, she sounds a loud wake-up alarm to those who have basic sympathy to the idea of criminal justice reform and race equality but who may not have made the connection explicitly. The ideal audience for this book, whom Alexander mentions in her introduction, would be folks who think that the comparison between Jim Crow and mass incarceration is merely rhetorical hyperbole. Upon reading this book, they may be convinced otherwise.

The West Memphis Three are Finally Free

Incredibly good news. The West Memphis Three, who have fought since the 1990s for their exoneration, have been freed from prison.

Three men convicted of killing three 8-year-old boys in a notorious 1993 murder case were freed from jail on Friday, after a complicated legal maneuver that allowed them to maintain their innocence while acknowledging that prosecutors had enough evidence to convict them.
Related


A district court judge declared that the three men — Damien W. Echols, 36, Jason Baldwin, 34, and Jessie Misskelley Jr., 36, known as the West Memphis Three — who have been in prison since their arrest in 1993, had served the time for their crime. The judge also levied a 10-year suspended sentence on each of the men.


With his release Friday, Mr. Echols became the highest-profile death row inmate to be released in recent memory.


The agreement, known as an Alford plea, does not result in a full exoneration; some of the convictions stand, though the men did not admit guilt. The deal came five months before a scheduled hearing was to be held to determine whether the men should be granted a new trial in light of DNA evidence that surfaced in the past few years. None of their DNA has been found in tests of evidence at the scene. The Arkansas Supreme Court ordered the new hearing in November, giving new life to efforts to exonerate the three men.

SB9 Discussed in Today’s Chronicle

This morning’s Chron features a front-page discussion of Senator Leland Yee’s SB9, which would allow juveniles sentenced to life without parole to have their sentences reviewed by a judge.

This is a very tame, limited version of the proposal.

The California measure, which Yee has tried to make law several times before, is not as ambitious: It would let inmates, after 15 years behind bars, petition the court to change their sentence to 25 years to life, with the possibility of parole. That means that even if the court agreed to modify a sentence, there is no guarantee the inmate would get out: The offender would have to wait until 25 years have been served, then could appeal to the state’s parole board for release. To request a reduced sentence, the offender would have to “describe his or her remorse” and prove he or she has worked toward rehabilitation.

Interestingly, as is often the case with parole-related proposals, the possibility that someone who maintains his or her innocence might want to make use of the review mechanism is not even considered.