Yesterday’s afternoon saw a story by Andrew Cohen of The Atlantic about recent scandals of inmate abuse and neglect in four states.
First, on May 22, the Civil Rights Division of the Justice Department released a report highlighting the unconstitutional conditions of a county prison in Florida. Then, on May 30th, the American Civil Liberties Union filed a federal lawsuit alleging atrocious conditions at a state prison in Mississippi. One day later, the feds again sounded out on behalf of inmates, this time against profound abuse and neglect at a Pennsylvania prison. Finally, last week, a federal judge issued an order describing the unconstitutional “brutality” of the prison in Orleans Parish, Louisiana. There were many common themes in the reports. In each instance, the mistreatment of mentally ill inmates was highlighted. Prison officials have failed to provide a constitutional level of care in virtually every respect, from providing medication and treatment to protecting the men from committing suicide. In the Louisiana court order, one prison expert is quoted by the judge as describing an “extraordinary and horrific” situation with the prison there. In the Florida investigation, federal investigators noted that local prison officials “have elected to ignore obvious and serious systemic deficiencies” in the jail’s mental health services.
Cohen asks why federal authorities are not investigating similar abuses occurring in federal institutions. I think it may be easier for the feds to investigate and regulate state institutions than their own. And yet, lawsuits regarding abuse in federal institutions are constantly filed, such as here and here. This USA Today story, written from the perspective of white collar criminals, suggests that, while federal institutions are safer, some state institutions offer benefits such as visits. The differences in conditions may have much to do with the population in both institutions, which differs according to type of offense, as seen from the BJS pie charts above.
The bottom line is that it is very difficult to make generalizations on the differences between systems when there are so many institutions. The variation in conditions within each system may be greater than the difference between the systems. And, therefore, Cohen’s point that the abuses in some of them closely resemble those in state institutions is well taken.
——- Props to Heather Kelly and to Ben Fleury-Steiner for the link.
A decision came out yesterday from the three-judge-panel that issued the original Plata v. Schwarzenegger decision: The state must comply with the original order. Moreover, should it not do so, it will be held in contempt. The L.A. Times reports: In a blistering 71-page ruling, the jurists rejected Brown’s bid to end restrictions they imposed on crowding in the lockups. The state cannot maintain inmate numbers that violate orders intended to eliminate dangerous conditions behind bars, they said. Brown and other officials “will not be allowed to continue to violate the requirements of the Constitution of the United States,” the judges wrote. “At no point over the past several months have defendants indicated any willingness to comply, or made any attempt to comply, with the orders of this court,” they said. “In fact, they have blatantly defied them.” The judges gave the state 21 days to submit a plan for meeting the population target by the end of the year. Administration officials said they would appeal the decision to the U.S. Supreme Court.
The piece pretty much speaks for itself, but I do want to say something about this to readers wondering why the state hasn’t been held in contempt so far, which is a question I get asked a lot when I talk about this. I think it’s important to understand that, while federal courts–rather than state administrators–have pretty much been the go-to place for inmate rights suits, courts are not natural policy designers. The judicial system is built on the premise of case-by-case arbitration, with an outcome that “takes sides” in a dispute between two parties (Martin Shapiro calls this “the logic of the triad“). Their ability to generalize and supervise is limited. The ways they perceive the world, discursively, are limited to assessing whether state agencies behaved in a way that violated constitutional standards – yes or no. Orders, supervision, revisiting issues–courts do all of those, but they do them because they have to. The hard work has to be done primarily by the state. Which is why, whenever possible, having a consent decree is a priority, and if that is impossible, it is at least useful to get some cooperation from the state and refrain from steps that will escalate the animosity between the state and the courts.
The escalation here–actually threatening the Governor with contempt–is understandable if one considers what Jerry has done in the last few weeks. He has attacked the special masters and receiver, and even griped about attorney’s fees for the inmates’ advocates. When seen in the context of this public relations crusade to besmirch the other side and the court-ordered mechanism, a threat of contempt is a logical response. And of course, the state retaliates by threatening an appeal to the Supreme Court. This is a collision course that will not end well, and it would behoove the Governor, and the state representatives, to consider growing up and collaborating with the courts. As things stand now, everyone has plenty to lose.
We’ve been remiss in reporting the major development in the Coleman case – the counterpart to Plata that addressed the deficiencies in the mental health system. To Governor Brown’s dismay, Judge Lawrence Karlton has decided that the mental health system has not improved nearly enough to end the special master supervision. The L.A. Times reports:
Karlton found that “ongoing constitutional violations remain,” including failure to act on suicide-prevention methods recommended by the court’s special master and one of the state’s own experts. What gains California has made in reducing waiting lists for seriously ill inmates to receive psychiatric care “are new, and work remains,” he said. The judge found climbing suicide rates, shortages of mental health crisis beds and mental health workers, in addition to inadequate treatment space, despite years of planning, amounting to what he termed “deliberate indifference.” Court records show that Brown’s surprise Jan. 7 motion to end federal oversight had been in the works since at least late 2011. The motion triggered a 90-day deadline for a ruling, leaving inmate lawyers roughly 10 weeks to hire experts, tour prisons and build their opposing case and giving Karlton a matter of days to weigh thousands of pages of contradictory depositions.
We saw some of the images captured by the parties during Michael Bien’s talk at our recent conference. The use of cages for everything, including group therapy, and the horrific condition of cells for people on suicide watch, stood out for me.
Breaking news from the Prison Law Office: Three inmates at the Riverside jail have just served a federal action suit over their conditions, particularly the appalling health care. The press release provides two poignant examples:
Angela Patterson, a plaintiff in the case, suffered nearly a year of delays, cancellations, and inadequate medical care for severe injuries she sustained in a car accident prior to entering the jail. As a result, a temporary filter implanted near her heart cannot be removed, and she will suffer a lifetime of anticoagulation medications and frequent laboratory monitoring, with significant risk of fatal bleeds and other complications. Quinton Gray, another plaintiff, was given potent psychotropic medication without appropriate evaluation or follow-up, placing him at risk for life-threatening consequences. As a result of the medication mismanagement and treatment failures, he lives with agonizing side effects: twitching, tongue-biting, increased seizures and tongue swelling, racing thoughts, disorientation, depression, and chronic sleep loss.
The inmates complain that the slashing of medical care budgets in Riverside have yielded unacceptable practices. They are represented by the Prison Law Office and by Akin Gump Strauss Hauer & Feld, LLP.
Before Realignment, one of the arguments in favor of shifting inmates from prisons to jails was that surely the counties would do a better job than the overcrowded state institutions. This is not the case in several jails, and we might see an increasing number of lawsuits focused on unacceptable jail conditions.
For the most part, this blog covers criminal and correctional matters. But this New York Times story makes me think that the distinction between criminal and civil law isn’t all that clear-cut.
As it turns out, the economic downturn has worsened a situation in which poor people don’t have access to lawyers and have to represent themselves in matters such as home foreclosures, child custody, job loss and spousal abuse. Without the knowledge and connections that an attorney can provide, and unshielded from the power of the law, the quality of justice poor people receive is reduced. The article reports:
The Legal Services Corporation, the Congressionally financed organization that provides lawyers to the poor in civil matters, says there are more than 60 million Americans — 35 percent more than in 2005 — who qualify for its services. But it calculates that 80 percent of the legal needs of the poor go unmet. In state after state, according to a survey of trial judges, more people are now representing themselves in court and they are failing to present necessary evidence, committing procedural errors and poorly examining witnesses, all while new lawyers remain unemployed. . . .
According to the World Justice Project, a nonprofit group promoting the rule of law that got its start through the American Bar Association, the United States ranks 66th out of 98 countries in access to and affordability of civil legal services.
In April, thanks to a city ordinance championed by civil rights lawyer Robert Rubin and big firm partners James Donato and James Brosnahan, San Francisco became the first city to offer a “civil Gideon” pilot program, guaranteeing representation to the indigent in civil matters as well. A 2009 California law funneling funds to legal aid groups to provide representation was bitterly contested, as was the San Francisco ordinance.
Why does all this matter? Because formerly incarcerated people rebuilding their lives on the outside may find that their brushes with the law happen outside the criminal realm, as well. Having to deal with the side effects of poverty and discrimination against felons (jobs and housing) and with the disintegration of family so commonly associated with incarceration, one might find oneself in dire need of an attorney, finding that outside of criminal matters, representation is difficult. “Civil Gideon” projects are, therefore, as important to reentering folks as criminal representation – perhaps more so.
But high caseloads, both civil and criminal, mean that even laws guaranteeing representation may find it difficult to offer quality representation. This is what I’ve referred to elsewhere as “the dark side of Gideon.”More funding means better representation, and this is one area in which humonetarianism will not be of much help.
Finally, apropos Gideon, this flick has just been released and should be worth seeing when it comes to California. Here’s a Democracy Now segment devoted to the film:
————– Robert Rubin, whose main area of litigation in the last ten years is voting rights, will be speaking at our conference on Friday about felon disenfranchisement and barriers to reentry.
A three-judge panel of the Ninth Circuit has acknowledged, apriori, that Pagan inmates complaining about the lack of a paid chaplain might have two valid legal claims, and remanded the case to a lower court for consideration of such claims.
Some background: CDCR employs a five-faith policy, which acknowledges, for purposes of religious accommodation, Catholicism, Protestant Christianity, Judaism, Islam, and Native American spirituality. For years, volunteer Wiccan prison chaplain Patrick McCollum waged a legal struggle to obtain ackowledgment, and lost due to lack of standing: The right to a chaplain belongs to the inmates, not the chaplain.
A recent survey of religion in prison has revealed that Paganism, or Earth-based spirituality, is one of the fastest growing faiths in correctional institutions, and according to McCollum, the survey is tainted by underreporting on the part of inmates that were concerned about the repercussions.
In Hartmann and Hill v. CDCR, decided a few days ago, inmates argued that the lack of an official chaplain position also leads to other forms of religious discrimination and lack of accommodations. Their main contention is that the “five-faith policy” is not based on any neutral considerations, and that in Chowchilla, where the plaintiffs are incarcerated, there are more Pagan inmates than members of some of the approved five faiths.
In reversing the district court’s dismissal for failure to state a claim, the Ninth Circuit court was careful to state that the First Amendment does not require CDCR to provide all faiths with a chaplain. Nor did the Court find an equal protection violation. However, the court did find that the inmates’ claim that CDCR violated the Establishment Clause is valid; that is, that the existing arrangement potentially unreasonably burdens the practice of religion on the basis of preferential treatment. The plaintiffs also have a valid claim based on the California Constitution. In remanding the case to the lower court, the Ninth Circuit court instructed to view the Establishment Clause argument through the lens of facts – conditions of employment for chaplains, number of inmates in need of religious services, etc.
It strikes me that yesterday’s post about Governor Brown’s gripe against the Prison Law Office and Rosen, Bien, Galvan and Grunfeld requires more blogging attention, because it hits at the heart of the problem: We shouldn’t begrudge people who work for human rights for getting paid to do their work. We should be grateful that they are willing, and able, to do it effectively.
I invite you, gentle reader, to revisit the figures offered by the Washington Post regarding the expenses on Plata/Coleman. The Prison Law office is reported to have received $8.3 million in attorney’s fees; Rosen, Bien, Galvan and Grunfeld have received $19 million. But, while it might be convenient for Brown to focus on these expenses, there were other lofty expenditures on this case, including the salaries for Brown’s own attorneys and for the people appointed by the court to mix his mess of a correctional health care system, which he conveniently ignores. The expenses related to the federal receiver were $7 million, and the expenses related to the special master in charge of the mental health system were $48.4 million. And of course, state attorneys, and private attorneys hired by the state, also need to be paid for their services. The Justice Department salaries amount to more than $4 million, and the private attorneys hired by the state were paid $15 million.
The conclusion from the numbers is that Governor brown is misled at best, and misleading at worst. Yes, the lawyers for the inmates won attorneys’ fees – as they well deserve for their important service. It would be naïve to expect so many people, on both sides of the litigation, to commit so many hours to these cases as volunteer work. As Governor Brown no doubt knows, this is how civil rights cases are litigated in this country: Relentlessly, and by taking a financial gamble that the court will eventually see the serious civil and human rights violations for what they are, the inmates will win, and their attorneys will recoup their costs as well as make a well-deserved living.
But the remark is also infuriating in principle. Nonprofits that help those to whom the state turns its back are important watchdogs in the struggle to humanely treat the weakest links in our social chain. And solid, prosperous law firms who devote a substantial amount of their human and material resources to civil rights litigation, rather than pay lip service to the idea of pro bono, should be commended and encouraged.
As a coda, it would behoove Governor Brown and his number crunchers to get a broader perspective. In 2012—the year at the end of which the state began realigning its non-serious offenders to county jails—the total budget for the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR) was $10 billion dollars. Out of this amount, $2 billion was spent on correctional health services, to mixed results. These expenditures dwarf the dwindling funds spent on inmate vocational and educational programming. They also dwarf the expenses of the lawsuit itself. Governor Brown is to be commended for advocating fiscal responsibility, but perhaps some of CDCR’s expenses could be lowered if Californians had abolished our costly and broken death penalty years ago, or if anyone had considered the possibility that some the many people we are now diverting to county jails need not be incarcerated in the first place. Perhaps retooling parole as an instrument of hope, rather than a revolving door of recidivism, could have lowered the price tab. Perhaps our nineteen-year affair with the Three Strikes Law brought into prison thousands of people, many of them for nonviolent offenses, for disproportionately lengthy sentences that encumbered us with their health care expenses. And perhaps providing people with skilled, prompt and humane health care could prevent the many iatrogenic health problems that plague our systems and jails and save a few nickels and dimes as well.
As to the accusation of prolonging litigation in this matter, perhaps the fault for that lies with the state’s stalling techniques in what could amount, under a less forgiving judicial system, to contempt of court. Complying with the court mandate, which left the state ample leeway in choosing its course of action, would also be a way to save money.
The California health care cases shone a bright light on one of our state’s most invisible populations and its plight. We would not have known that our tax money was being wasted on abysmal medical treatment to a population doing time (sometimes excessive and sometimes unnecessary) under overcrowded, unsanitary conditions, sleeping in triple bunks in converted gyms, and receiving medical attention in cages. Like Governor Brown, I am pleased that serious steps have been taken to cure this disease. But when someone draws our attention to human rights violations, we don’t shoot the messenger, nor do we complain about his salary. We thank them for opening our eyes.
The California Court of Appeal has just issued a decision in re Jose Morales. The decision prohibits Pelican Bay Prison’s practice of race-based segregation and denial of privileges. From the decision:
Pelican Bay racially segregates prisoners and, during extended periods of perceived threatened violence, denies family visits, work assignments, yard exercise, religious services and other privileges to prisoners of one race while granting those same privileges to prisoners of other races. This habeas proceeding was brought by a Hispanic prisoner alleging that the prison’s policy of disparate treatment based on race and ethnicity denies him equal protection of the laws.
This particular proceeding was tied to a 2008 incident between Hispanic inmates, which led to a segregation of all Hispanic inmates’ access to programs, which apparently remained in effect for almost three years. The result of the effective lockdown on Hispanic inmates was that only inmates classified racially as “other”, meaning, mostly Asian inmates, had to work double shifts in prison. Other inmates were denied visitation, exercise, religious services, and other privileges. In short, no one won.
The decision relies on a Supreme Court case, Johnson v. California, which held that government officials are not permitted “to use race as a proxy for gang membership and violence without demonstrating a compelling government interest and proving that their means are narrowly tailored” to advance that interest.
The decision in Morales extends that logic to race-based punishment, giving prison authorities narrow leeway to separate inmates based on ethnicity only if prison security requires it, so long as it is done “[o]n a short-term emergency basis” and not “preferentially”.
One of the notable things about the decision is the judges’ sensitivity to the chicken-and-egg nature of race-based classification. While some administrative policies are a result of gang-related racial hostilities, the classification in itself threatens not only “to stigmatize individuals by reason of their membership in a racial group” but also, importantly, “to incite racial hostility.”
Another notable thing is the court’s attentiveness to nuance. While many inmates are affiliated with a gang based on their race, not all inmates are affiliated with a gang, and to assume otherwise is to discriminate.
One hopes that the combination of this decision, and the agreement to end racial hostilities in Pelican Bay, will transform carceral practices so that racial strife, whether stemming from gang animosities or institutional unfairness, will diminish if not end.
And in California, mixed results on criminal justice matters. Prop 36 passed by a landslide and elicited gratitude from non-violent Third Strikers who are to be resentenced now. As we said before the election, this revision of Three Strikes is fairly modest; it does not change the possibility of simultaneous strikes or the punishment for Second Strikers. The original ambition to repeal this extreme punitive measure was significantly scaled back, though what we have is a good start and offers hope to thousands of people whose hopelessly disproportionate sentences will be shortened.
Much to my disappointment, Prop 34 fell 500,000 voters short from passing. The landmark achievement of a significant decrease in Californians’ traditional support for the death penalty notwithstanding, the death penalty remains, despite the serious arguments for its dysfunction.
And Prop 35, a traditional hodge-podge of punitive measures disguised as a victims’ rights measure, passed as well. As I expected, part of the proposition, which involved unenforceable and overbroad registration requirements for sex offenders, is already raising constitutional questions.
All of this has made me think about broader patterns in California compared to other states. Think of the passage of Prop 8 in 2008 and compare it to the passage of same-sex marriage amendments in various other states in 2012. Think of our failure to pass Prop 19 in 2010 and compare it to the legalization of marijuana in Washington and Colorado in 2012. And think of our failure to pass Prop 34 and compare it to the abolition of the death penalty in numerous states over the course of the last few years. What is wrong in California? Why do the wheels of progress turn so slowly here?
Vanessa Barker’s The Politics of Imprisonment provides a good guideline. Barker argues that crime, and criminal justice, are ultimately experienced on the local level, and that the local political climate of a state has much to do with its administration of criminal justice and imprisonment. In the book, she compares California, Washington, and New York, demonstrating how punishment has taken different forms in the three states that correspond to their traditions and practices of government. Barker sees California as a neopopulist, deeply polarized state, yielding simplistic, black-and-white divisions on punishment because of the voter initiative system. The post Prop-13 political realities of California make it incredibly difficult to move through budgetary changes. Voter initiatives, which are the only way to get through the legislative deadlock, have to present complicated issues as yay/nay questions, impeding serious, impassioned discussions of fact, rather than values, stereotypes and beliefs. And in a climate such as this, even rational facts and figures about costs, which by all right should be nonpartisan matters, become secondary to fear, hate and alienation. It is one of the deepest contradictions of this beautiful state: Hailed as a blue bastion of progress, but cursed with an overburdened, cruel correctional system akin to that of Southern states.
Maybe, like with same-sex marriage and marijuana legalization, we have to wait until more states abolish the death penalty, and the next state to do so by voter initiative may not be California. But with a Democrat supermajority in the legislature, we may be able to get over the traditional deadlock and get some things done. My hope that the cost argument would transverse the political divide is not entirely lost, but it is deeply shaken. I still think that the economic argument is incredibly powerful, and attribute the recent successes in marijuana legalization to scarce resources and cost-benefit analysis, among other things. But one cannot ignore the important variable of local government style and tradition in assessing the ability to change the correctional landscape in important ways.
On a more personal note: Many blog readers that have met me in the course of this campaign know how much of my time and persuasive energy I put into the Yes on 34 campaign. I still think that abolition is not impossible and that I will live to see the day in which the United States will join the civilized world in ridding itself of this barbaric punishment method. I still think that, in my lifetime, there will be a time in which we start questioning not only the death penalty, but also life without parole, solitary confinement, racialized segregation practices, and our approach toward juvenile justice. I plan to continue being here and fighting for this important reforms. Because I desperately want the dawn to come.
“But when the dawn will come, of our emancipation, from the fear of bondage and the bondage of fear, why, that is a secret.” –Alan Paton, Cry, the Beloved Country
—- Many thanks to Chad Goerzen, Francisco Hulse, Jamie Rowen, Aatish Salvi, and Bill Ward, for the conversations that inspired this post.
An interesting bill lies on Governor Brown’s desk, awaiting his signature: AB 1270 would allow, and set procedures for, media interviews with prisoners.
The bill, sponsored by Assemblymember Tom Ammiano, would dramatically change the parameters of free speech in prison.
Under the new bill, CDCR would be required to allow interviews with inmates on a pre-arranged and on a random basis, unless the warden determines that the interview “poses an immediate threat to public safety or the security of the institution.” The interview request should be presented within a reasonable time, and the interview itself requires the inmate’s consent, as well as a notification to the victim or his/her family ahead of time. The inmate is not to receive any form of remuneration for participating in the interview, and CDCR is not to change an inmate’s status or punish him or her for giving an interview.
Currently, media interviews in CDCR prisons with specific inmates are not allowed (visiting prison and speaking to inmates at random is allowed under certain conditions.). The Supreme Court’s decision in Pell v. Procunier (1974) upheld this regime, arguing that the existing provisions for media contact meant that there was no First Amendment violation.
Let’s think about a few potential applications of this. One of the concern folks might have is about sensational interviews providing wanton publicity for perpetrators of heinous crimes. Notifying the victim’s family is not, of course, procuring the victim’s family’s consent. And yes, it would mean more air time for tasteless, heinous and sensationalist media coverage. But how would that be different from the tasteless, heinous, sensational television we already watch?
Think about how much good it could do an innocent inmate if reporters would pick up the cause and pursue it, and how helpful it would be if, in addition to other footage, they could speak to the inmate him/herself. It’s enough to be reminded of the stunning impact that Paradise Lost, Paradise Lost 2: Revelations, and Paradise Lost 3: Purgatory have had on the West Memphis Three case (here’s a great interview with the filmmakers).
And think of how much more attention the Pelican Bay hunger strike would have received if the public got its news not just from CDCR officials, and some crumbs from what families got through letters. But under the new proposition, it’s likely that CDCR would still have the prerogative to decline the interviews based on institutional safety reasons.
