Triggers and Vulnerabilities: Why Prisons Are Uniquely Vulnerable to COVID-19 and What To Do About It

covid-19 virus illustration
When I reviewed the causes and effects of the 2008 Financial Crisis for Cheap on Crime, I relied partly on a series of lectures given by Ben Bernanke, Director of the Federal Reserve. As he explained it, the Great Recession was a case of “triggers and vulnerabilities:”

The triggers of the crisis were the particular events or factors that touched off the events of 2007-09–the proximate causes, if you will. Developments in the market for subprime mortgages were a prominent example of a trigger of the crisis. In contrast, the vulnerabilities were the structural, and more fundamental, weaknesses in the financial system and in regulation and supervision that served to propagate and amplify the initial shocks. In the private sector, some key vulnerabilities included high levels of leverage; excessive dependence on unstable short-term funding; deficiencies in risk management in major financial firms; and the use of exotic and nontransparent financial instruments that obscured concentrations of risk. In the public sector, my list of vulnerabilities would include gaps in the regulatory structure that allowed systemically important firms and markets to escape comprehensive supervision; failures of supervisors to effectively apply some existing authorities; and insufficient attention to threats to the stability of the system as a whole (that is, the lack of a macroprudential focus in regulation and supervision).

The distinction between triggers and vulnerabilities is helpful in that it allows us to better understand why the factors that are often cited as touching off the crisis seem disproportionate to the magnitude of the financial and economic reaction.

Bernanke’s distinction between triggers and vulnerabilities is useful to the current crisis as well. Today we learned that a man behind bars in Chino is the first acknowledged COVID-19 casualty in CA prisons, and that 59 of his fellow prisoners have tested positive. As of today, we’ve also seen the first positive test in the San Francisco jail system. It’s all going to mushroom from here.
Several of my colleagues (see especially here and here) are making the important argument that the spread of COVID-19 in prisons is a very big deal, to the point that not addressing it properly could negate much of our social distancing effort outside the prison walls. But what is it about prisons that make them such an effective Petri dish for the virus to spread?
Think of COVID-19 as the trigger, and think of the disappointing–even shocking–reluctance of federal courts to do the right thing as another trigger. These triggers operate against a background of serious vulnerabilities, some of which preceded the decision in Brown v. Plata and some of which emerged from it.
First, what gets called “health care” in CA prisons really isn’t. Litigation about it took a decade and a half to yield the three-judge order to decarcerate, and until then, horrific things were happening on a daily basis. Despite ridiculous expenses, every six days, a CA inmate would die from a completely preventable, iatrogenic disease. The cases that spearheaded Plata, including the story of Plata himself, were emblematic of this (see Jonathan Simon’s retelling of these stories here.)
It is important to think again of what it was, exactly, about overcrowding that made basic healthcare impossible to provide. First, medical personnel were, and still are, difficult to hire and retain. California has gigantic prisons in remote, rural locations, and it is difficult to attract people willing to work healthcare in these locations. Housing, clothing, and feeding so many people in close proximity meant not only that violence and contagion were more likely to occur, but also that the quality of these things–diet, especially, comes to mind–was extremely low. Every time someone had to be taken to receive care, the prison would have to be in lockdown, which meant more delays and big administrative hassles. The administration and pharmacies were total chaos. People would wait for their appointments in tiny cages for hours without access to bathrooms. People’s medical complaints were regularly trivialized and disbelieved–not, usually, out of sadism, but out of fatigue and indifference in the face of so much need. Moreover, the scandalously long sentences that a fourth of our prison population serves mean that people age faster and get sick, and make the older population an expensive contingent in constant need of more healthcare and more expense.
The outcome of the case–reducing the prison population from 200% capacity to 137.5% capacity–was mixed in terms of the healthcare outcomes. But it also yielded four important side-effects. First, it exposed the inadequacy of county jails for dealing with a population in need of both acute and chronic healthcare. Second, it created big gaps in service between counties that relied more and less on incarceration. Third, because the standard was the same for the entire prison system and relied on design capacity (rather than, following the European model, on calculating minimum meterage per inmate), it yielded some prisons in which overcrowding was greatly alleviated alongside others in which the overcrowding situation was either the same as, or worse than, before Plata. And fourth, because of the way we dealt with Plata, we became habituated to resolving overcrowding with cosmetic releases of politically palatable populations (i.e. the “non-non-nons”) rather than addressing a full fourth of our prison population–people doing long sentences for violent crime and getting old and sick behind bars.
So, now we face this trigger–COVID-19–with the following vulnerabilities:
  1. We still have a bloated system, because the Court used the wrong standard to create minimal space between people for their immediate welfare.
  2. We’re now dealing with lots of small systems that answer to lots of different masters and have different priorities and ideologies.
  3. We already have a lousy healthcare system behind bars, which could not be fixed even with the release of more than 30,000 people, and that was *without* a pandemic going on.
  4. We have gotten used to doing a “health vs. public safety” equation that doesn’t make sense and biases us against people who committed violent crimes at the wrong time and for the wrong reasons. In fact, we are so married to the idea that we can’t second-guess mass incarceration, that the newest preposterous suggestion has been to protect people from COVID-19 by… introducing private prisons into the mix.
Stack these vulnerabilities against the trigger, and what you have is an enormous human rights crisis waiting to happen in the next few weeks. It’s already started.
And if you wonder whether this can be contained in prisons, well, it can’t. Guards don’t live in prison, obviously; prison staff has already been diagnosed positive in multiple prisons. Stay at home all your like, wear your home-sewn masks all you wish; we have dozens of disease incubators in the state and apparently very little political will do do anything to eliminate them.

What should we do about it? Follow the excellent roadmap that Margo Schlanger and Sonja Starr charted here, primarily point four: get over your icky political fears about public backlash and let older, sicker people out–even if they committed a violent crime twenty or forty years ago. If you are a governor or a prison warden with some authority to release people, do as Sharon Dolovich implores in this piece and use your executive power to save lives.

Hunger Strike in Calaveras County Jail

Jail
Calaveras County Jail, courtesy
The Calaveras Enterprise.
Chapter 6 of Cheap on Crime dealt with a transition with our perception of inmates–from wards of the state, who need to be clothed and fed and taken care of for the duration of their sentence, to capitalist consumers, whose every need beyond the very bare minimum (and sometimes even the bare minimum!) is monetized. The consumer label, of course, is ironic

Well, the shit finally hit the fan at Calaveras County Jail, where inmates are fed up with the endless monetization of their lives. The Calaveras Enterprise reports:

Seventeen inmates at the Calaveras County Jail have announced their plan to initiate a hunger strike in protest of “outrageous prices” for telephone calls and commissary items including soup and ramen noodles.

“Not only are we afflicted, but our families as well,” the inmates wrote in a letter to the Enterprise. “We have made attempts at every other level to have this situation resolved, to no avail. We are hoping that the public can get involved and know the real situation that is going on here.”

According to the inmates, local calls cost $2.91 for the first minute and 41 cents for each additional minute, while long-distance calls cost only 21 cents per minute. A soup from the jail’s canteen currently costs $1.23. They claim that those prices are far higher than those at other California facilities in which some of them have been detained.

Nineteen-year-old inmate Marc Holocker told the Enterprise on Monday that prices have gone up at the jail since he was incarcerated in May, and that his weekly allowance of $20 provided by his family is no longer sufficient to meet his needs. Outside of the telephone calls to his lawyer, which are free of charge, Holocker no longer calls family members, he said, opting instead to spend his money on food items.

Just recently I posted about how the prison food industry is one small, often unnoticed “piecemeal privatization” that escapes the gaze of the anti-private-prison crowd. The awfulness and meagerness of prison food (nutraloaf anyone?) feeds (no pun intended) directly into the commissary business. The phone call gauging is an ongoing scandal, in CA and elsewhere (and that’s before we even ask hard questions about the calls’ privacy). In Cheap on Crime I bitterly commented that people in prisons and jails who review their institutions on Yelp have drawn the natural conclusions about how they’re being treated, and it seems the people striking in Calaveras are taking to more direct action.

When Cheap on Crime Becomes Mainstream: Santa Clara to Divert Nonviolent Drug Offenders

Chapter 3 of Cheap on Crime opens with a 2009 headline from the San Francisco Chronicle, which reads, “Many Contra Costa Crooks Won’t Be Prosecuted.” Who are said “crooks”? D.A. Kochly explains: “[B]eginning May 4, his office will no longer prosecute felony drug cases involving smaller amounts of narcotics. That means anyone caught with less than a gram of methamphetamine or cocaine, less than 0.5 grams of heroin and fewer than five pills of ecstasy, OxyContin or Vicodin won’t be charged.”
This was viewed with suspicion and scorn at the time; Kochly lamented the lack of funds and said, “We had to make very, very difficult choices, and we had to try to prioritize things. There are no good choices to be made here. . . It’s trying to choose the lesser of certain evils in deciding what we can and cannot do.”

Compare that to today’s headline: The Mercury News informs us that “Santa Clara County DA will stop filing charges in most minor drug cases.” The policy is basically the same as the one from Contra Costa ten years ago: “the aim of the change is to keep one- and two-time offenders out of the court system, diverting them instead to drug treatment programs and reserving bandwidth for more serious addiction cases that cross over to become community nuisances or public-safety concerns.” Again, costs are cited, in the grand humonetarian fashion: “the policy shift also cuts out an exponentially larger number of corresponding court dates, potential bench warrants and jail stays and thousands of work hours for judges, attorneys and police officers. All of those efforts go to address offenders that everyone agrees might have addiction issues but do not pose a threat to public safety.”

Same news, different spin. What used to be regarded with scorn at the very beginning of the Cheap on Crime era has now gone mainstream. Note how easy and acceptable (and non-radical!) it is for a prosecutor (!) to cite cost expenses (!) as a justification for diverting nonviolent offenders into a public health treatment silo.

In many ways, this is the coda to Cheap on Crime: the ultimate success of the cost-centered rhetoric in normalizing the decarceration of nonviolent offenders. Years after recovering from the recession, the thinking patterns formed during the recession are here: marijuana should be legalized for revenue and so that our resources can be spent on the “real” offenders; treatment and prevention are cheaper than punishment; crime rates are low, and therefore there is no risk to public safety. It’s nice to see this trend continue to play out on the state level, at the heart of the consensus, while War on Drugs dinosaurs rage in the White House.

Cruelty to Migrant Kids Is Not “Cheap on Crime”

The Washington Post reports this absolutely heartbreaking piece of news:

The Trump administration is canceling English classes, recreational programs and legal aid for unaccompanied minors staying in federal migrant shelters nationwide, saying the immigration influx at the southern border has created critical budget pressures. 

The Office of Refugee Resettlement has begun discontinuing the funding stream for activities — including soccer — that have been deemed “not directly necessary for the protection of life and safety, including education services, legal services, and recreation,” said U.S. Health and Human Services spokesman Mark Weber.

Since these days things that used to solidly reside in the “needless to say” category need to be explicitly said, I’ll open with this: This is monstrous, gratuitous cruelty. And what is the justification?

Federal officials have warned Congress that they are facing “a dramatic spike” in unaccompanied minors at the southern border and have asked Congress for $2.9 billion in emergency funding to expand shelters and care. The program could run out of money in late June, and the agency is legally obligated to direct funding to essential services, Weber said.

Last week I spoke on a mini-plenary about dignity and austerity. The other presenters addressed issues such as takings, welfare cuts, neoliberal banking, and the like, in which “savings” are synonymous with, essentially, letting go of caring for the world’s (or the country’s) weakest population. Because in criminal justice things don’t operate quite that way, I’ve had to explain that investing money in people in the context of criminal justice is not necessarily to their benefit, and often works to their detriment. The big exception to this statement, though, is rehabilitative programming: the dark side of the developments I discussed in Cheap on Crime (and on the plenary) is the continued trend to deeply cut rehabilitation programs.

Doing so, especially in the context of juvenile populations, is not a wise, “justice reinvestment move”. Beyond being cruel, it is penny wise and pound foolish. Educated, physically active, nurtured children are far more likely to have a “stake in conformity”, to use Hirschi’s term. Are migrant kids deprived of the opportunity to learn the language most prominently spoken in their new country and, for heaven’s sake, to play soccer, more or less likely to desire to be law-abiding, proud residents?

Contrast this horror with another piece of news: San Francisco sets out to eliminate its Juvenile Hall. Readers of Nell Bernstein’s Burning Down the House, as well as anyone even minimally informed with the realities of juvenile confinement in California, will surely welcome this beneficial development, and look forward to a public health model of handling juvenile transgressions.

Ending Lifetime Registration of Sex Offenders–A Courageous and Sensible Idea

Yesterday’s L.A. Times reports:

“SB 384 proposes thoughtful and balanced reforms that allow prosecutors and law enforcement to focus their resources on tracking sex offenders who pose a real risk to public safety, rather than burying officers in paperwork that has little public benefit,” said Ali Bay, a spokeswoman for the governor.

Los Angeles County Dist. Atty. Jackie Lacey sought the change because the current registry has grown to a difficult-to-manage 105,000 people, which reduces its value to law enforcement trying to solve sex crimes by checking those on the list.

Because the registry is public, it also punishes people who have not committed new crimes for decades, including some who engaged in consensual sex, bill supporters argued.

This is an excellent idea. Before you get all riled up, read the actual text:

This bill would, commencing January 1, 2021, instead establish 3 tiers of registration based on specified criteria, for periods of at least 10 years, at least 20 years, and life, respectively, for a conviction of specified sex offenses, and 5 years and 10 years for tiers one and two, respectively, for an adjudication as a ward of the juvenile court for specified sex offenses, as specified. The bill would allow the Department of Justice to place a person in a tier-to-be-determined category for a maximum period of 24 months if his or her appropriate tier designation cannot be immediately ascertained. The bill would, commencing July 1, 2021, establish procedures for termination from the sex offender registry for a registered sex offender who is a tier one or tier two offender and who completes his or her mandated minimum registration period under specified conditions. The bill would require the offender to file a petition at the expiration of his or her minimum registration period and would authorize the district attorney to request a hearing on the petition if the petitioner has not fulfilled the requirement of successful tier completion, as specified. The bill would establish procedures for a person required to register as a tier three offender based solely on his or her risk level to petition the court for termination from the registry after 20 years from release of custody, if certain criteria are met. The bill would also, commencing January 1, 2022, revise the criteria for exclusion from the Internet Web site.

In her book Sex Fiends, Perverts, and Pedophiles, Chrysanthi Leon of the University of Delaware discusses the changes in our approach toward sex offenders. As she lucidly explains, we used to be able to differentiate between different types of sex offenders and find compassion and pragmatism in our approach toward their punishment and rehabilitation. But with the sex panics of the 1980s, we started blurring lines and seeing all sex offenders as just one category, identifying all of them with the perpetrators of the most heinous crimes. This was a big mistake. Sex offenders, as Tamara Lave reminds us, have a remarkably low rate of recidivism, and the effort to warn the public from them would be better spent on narrow categories of sex criminals that actually recidivate. This bill is a step forward toward more careful classification.

But there’s something else here that is important.

The impetus for the new bill is that the sex offender list has grown so long that it has become difficult to manage. Local authorities spend a lot of time processing paperwork, and time means money. Again, as I discuss in Cheap on Crime, the practicalities of punishment become so cumbersome that we’re taking a step in the right direction. Indeed, any deterrent effect the list has becomes diluted once everyone is on the list for everything, as J.J. Prescott and Jonah Rockoff remind us here.

In sight of the federal disaster that is the Trump/Sessions gratuitous, senseless cruelty enforcement mechanism, it’s nice to see California once again making a reasonable decision.

This Election, Say No to Old-Skool Crime Panic: Part 1

Last Monday’s presidential debate was interesting for a variety of reasons. To me, a particularly interesting point was the reemergence of old-skool crime risk narratives. As I explain in Cheap on Crime, the recession years were characterized by a rethinking of our ideas about crime, crime prevention, and crime control, and by a bipartisan understanding that, regardless of one’s stance on the morality of mass incarceration, it is simply not economically sustainable to punish so many people so harshly and for such long periods. This means that, in the last few years, we were exposed to new and surprising declarations from long-time conservatives arguing for more civil rights protections, a truce in the war on drugs, and sentencing reform. This is not just about money, though; new advances in neuroscience and developmental psychology have led to a rediscovery of childhood, which in turn has led to several developments in legislation and in caselaw reforming juvenile justice.

And yet, it seems like some things never change. One such thing was Donald Trump’s argument last Monday that murder rates are up. Anyone who lived through the Nixon campaign must have felt, as Yogi Berra would say, déjà vu all over again. The logic behind this old-skool crime panic argument is: crime rates are rising; the only way to stop them is by cracking down on street offenders; the best way to do it is aggressive policing in the streets. The problem is that none of these things is fairly presented or even true.

First, as my colleague John Pfaff explains in The Nation, it is statistically misleading to focus on a rise in one type of crime in the course of one year:

Despite the increases cited in yesterday’s FBI report—the rise in murders in 2015 was the largest in both absolute and percentage terms since crime started dropping in the early 1990s—the United States remains an historically safe place to live. The murder rate in 2015 is still lower than it was in 2009, and before 2009 the last time the murder rate was as low as it was last year was in 1964. Overall, 2015 had the third-lowest violent crime rate since at least 1970, and probably even before that, since our older crime stats likely understate crime much more than they do today.
Yes, crime went up in 2015. But crime remained at near historic lows in 2015, too. Both of these statements can be, and are true. Despite the rise in violent crime, we remain safer today than we have been in decades.

What happened in 2015 happened in the course of one year, against an opposite trend, and one year cannot be regarded a trend:

Because we have so much less violent crime today than in 1990, any given increase will be a bigger percent jump today than 25 years ago. If we have 100 units of something, five more is just 5 percent, but that same five-unit increase is a 10 percent jump from 50. So while the number of murders rose by 11 percent in 2015, compared to 9 percent in 1990, the total increase in murders in 2015 was about 400 less than in 1990. The percent change looks worse because we are doing so much better.

Second, there are no grounds to fear sensible nonpunitive measures. Remember the vast number of articles in California newspapers quoting cops claiming that criminals have been running rampant in the streets since the early releases of Prop. 47? The proposition passed in November 2014. It is now October 2016 and the numbers are in: there is no correlation, on a county-by-county analysis, between releases under Prop. 47 and crime rates. None. Long prison sentences, serious felony charges, and refraining from paroling people do not make us safer. At all.

Third, cracking down on suspected street offenders via aggressive stop and frisk policies is never a good idea. The odds of actually catching contraband on someone during a brief stop and patdown are very low. In New York City, where the NCLU conducted a multi-year inquiry, they found that nine out of ten people who were stopped and frisked were found to be totally innocent. The benefits of finding contraband on a small percentage of the citizenry are far outweighed by the costs of humiliation, degradation, and the loss of trust between police departments and the communities they serve. Even more importantly, as Jill Leovy’s book Ghettoside demonstrates and as David Simon repeatedly explains in his public appearances, the problem is not just overenforcement: it’s overenforcement of showy, aggressive police power that comes directly at the expenses of enforcement that requires brainy, creative police work. The time and manpower spent on stop and frisk is time not spent solving murders and robberies, which are presumably the serious crimes that Trump wants us to be afraid of.

This election, Californians have an opportunity to say no to old-skool crime panic by voting on sensible criminal justice reforms that will save us money and help us treat our neighbors and fellow residents more humanely. Vote Yes on 57 to eliminate prosecutorial monopoly on trying juveniles as adults and to give nonviolent adult offenders a chance on parole. Vote Yes on 62 to eliminate the costly and failed death penalty. Vote Yes on 64 to save money on marijuana prohibition and to bring in much-needed tax revenue. Vote No on 66 to refuse a costly and dangerous death penalty “tweak” that will provide (and pay) undertrained attorneys and risk wrongful executions. Say no to unfounded crime panics. We’ve been there before and we know it doesn’t help. And say yes to sensible reforms.


 

November 2016 Ballot: Yes on 64

My colleagues and I at UC Hastings made a series of nonpartisan, informational videos on the California propositions on the November 2016 ballot. Here’s a video made by my colleague Marsha Cohen, an expert on food and drug law, about Prop. 64, the legalization of marijuana:

On this blog I make endorsements as well, and my recommendation would be to vote Yes on 64.

In 2010, there was a legalization proposition on the ballot which I supported, Prop 19, and it failed by a fairly narrow margin. I supported that one even though I found it problematic and vague: Prop 19 legalized personal use and limited cultivation of marijuana, but left the business end unregulated and up to the counties. As a result, it was unclear how much we would gain in tax revenue.

Prop 64 offers a much clearer legalization regime. Flowing from the recommendations of the Blue Ribbon Commission and relying on the experience of Colorado, Washington, Oregon, Alaska, and DC, it has set realistic price points and tax rates on sales, thoroughly regulated cultivation, possession, and sales, and provided safeguards for sales to minors.

Let’s talk about the money first. The Legislative Analyst’s Office anticipates gains of many hundreds of millions of dollars, up to a billion, in tax revenue. These gains are based on assumptions about patterns of use and commerce that we see in other countries and states. For substances, there is typically a group of hard-core users (See Philip Cook’s analysis of alcohol: 60% of American’s either don’t drink at all or drink very, very little, and only 10% of Americans constitute the vast majority of drinking in the market, with an average of ten drinks a day.) Those folks will use (and pay for it) no matter what, and making sure that they buy (and pay taxes) lawfully is pretty essential. Which is why setting the price point and the taxes properly is important. It seems that this is a key consideration in the states that already have recreational marijuana: you don’t want to tax too much, because that’ll keep the market alive. But even though those states are considering lowering the tax, they still got revenue that far exceeded expectations, and the hope is that the same will happen here. Prop 64 sets excise tax at 15% for retail and 2.75-9.25 percent for cultivation. Sales tax for nonmedical will hover around 8%.

The proposition sets up a licensing program. Selling without a license will be an offense. Selling to minors would be an offense. Setting up shop near a school will be an offense. And, driving under the influence would be an offense.

The most convincing argument against the measure is a recent Washington state study showing a rise in THC-positive drivers involved in accidents. Here’s the full study. But that someone is THC-positive does not mean that marijuana was a factor in the accident. THC is detectable in the blood up to three weeks from the time of use, and a positive finding does not mean that the person was under the influence of marijuana when the accident happened. The study took into account differences in levels of THC, but those are imprecise. Also, keep in mind that drivers were not tested for THC presence before the legalization of marijuana in Washington, so we don’t have great comparative data (who knows how many people were THC-positive before legalization?) Moreover, the findings on THC alone are dwarfed by the findings on alcohol, or on alcohol and THC combined (in which case the causality issue is murkier.) The National Institute on Drug Abuse website claims that marijuana impairs driving ability, but cites a National Highway Traffic Safety Administration study that found that carefully controlled studies relying on measurements find no appreciable difference in driving. NORML, who is far from an unbiased group but who does cite unbiased research, cites far less convincing evidence of impairment under marijuana than under alcohol.

As for arguments for legalization, the existing prohibition regime has been far from successful in curbing drug use and has led to huge monetary and personal costs for people charged, convicted and incarcerated for growing and selling. We wouldn’t be the pioneers of a different path, but it’s a thoughtful effort and definitely worth a try. I’m going with a Yes on 64.

November 2016 Ballot: Yes on 62 and No on 66

In anticipation of the November ballot, my colleagues and I at UC Hastings made a series of nonpartisan informational videos explaining the 2016 propositions. Here’s the video I made on Prop 62:

On this blog I also make endorsements. It’s an unequivocal YES, YES, YES on 62.

It’s not a particularly well-kept secret that I vehemently oppose the death penalty for all the obvious reasons: it’s inhumane, there’s no good evidence that it deters murderers, there are grave concerns about the fairness of its application, and with social psychologists estimating that 5% of all convictions are wrongful, there is also the grave risk of mistake. Add to that the important factor I discuss in Cheap on Crime–the expenditure involved in capital punishment–and repeal should be an obvious choice.

But I’d like to address this post not to the folks who are convinced, for moral reasons, that repeal is the right choice. I’d like to talk to decent, reasonable people who are on the fence about the death penalty, because they feel that some people–serial murderers, people who kill and assault little children, etc.–should have an especially harsh sentence reserved for them. Even if you are such a person, you should vote yes on 62. Here’s why.

In November we’ll be voting not about the philosophical merits of the death penalty, but on whether to keep it as it is practiced here in California. Here are some facts, not opinions: we currently have 751 people on death row. Since the reinstatement of the death penalty in 1978 we executed a grand total of 13 people. Meanwhile, 90 people died of natural causes. They spend decades on death row, during which they are held in expensive conditions in a dilapidated facility, and they also litigate. Their confinement, and especially their litigation, is costing us $150 million a year, which would be saved if all these people were to be transferred tomorrow to general population. And most of these death row inmates are not the “worst of the worst” for whom you’d like to reserve the death penalty.

I get that you think that in principle there should be something special for really heinous crimes. But we don’t live in a principle. We live in California. And in California, this is expensive and it doesn’t work.

“So the death penalty is broken,” you say. “Why not fix it? Why not make it cost-effective, and then I can continue to support it?”

There is a proposition on the ballot that argues just that–Prop 66. Its proponents, mostly county district attorneys, argue that adding lawyers and shortening procedures would save money and allow California to retain the death penalty. Here’s the informational video I made of Prop 66:

The two reforms proposed by 66 are unrealistic, expensive, and very risky. They would not solve the problem. I strongly oppose it and urge you to vote No on 66. 

Currently, each death row inmate receives two attorneys at the state’s expense to litigate his/her case. “Quelle luxe!” I hear you say. Well, not so much. The Habeas Corpus Resource Center has a whooping grand total of 34 attorneys, who get assigned the hundreds of cases on death row. According to the Legislative Analyst’s Office, as of September 2015, 57 individuals were awaiting appointment of counsel in direct appeals and 358 individuals were awaiting appointment of counsel in habeas corpus proceedings. Those are hundreds of people whose lives depend on a determination of their legal claims, who have to wait an average of 16 years to get an attorney. That’s why it takes so long to execute people in California.

Hiring and training more attorneys to take on capital cases would cost tens of millions of dollars a year–on top of the $150 million we’re already paying by having capital punishment. While I’d love for there to be more jobs for my students, this is an unnecessary expenditure we can ill-afford.

What’s worse, Prop 66 supporters propose to shorten the times for appellate and habeas proceedings. But there’s a reason why these procedures take time. It’s because they have the potential of diminishing the risk of horrible mistakes. When someone does life without parole and is found to be innocent, their life has been detailed, but amends can be made. When an innocent person has been executed, there are no amends. The risk of a mistake is graver than we can tolerate: remember, a conservative estimate puts wrongful convictions at 5% of all convictions.

There is no fix here that saves money and prevents injustice. And even if you think you’re willing to compromise, ask yourself–how much is it really worth to you to keep 751 people on death row? Is it really conscionable to pay $150 million annually to keep this going?

Yes on 62. No on 66.

BREAKING NEWS: Brown’s Proposed Sentencing Reform Pulls Us Back to the Future

Just two days after the Supreme Court’s encouraging decision in Montgomery v. Louisiana and President Obama’s announcement of a solitary confinement overhaul in the federal system, comes this astounding piece of news from Governor Brown:

Forty years after signing strict, fixed-term sentencing standards into law – and more than a decade after panning them as an “abysmal failure” – Gov. Jerry Brown on Wednesday proposed a ballot measure to make it easier for nonviolent offenders to gain parole.
In a rebuke of criminal enhancements that can dramatically extend prison terms, the measure would let felons convicted of nonviolent offenses seek parole after serving only their base sentences. It would also restructure what Brown called a “crazy quilt” of credits for good behavior, benefiting prisoners who demonstrate evidence of rehabilitation. 

The initiative language would also undo provisions of Proposition 21, the measure approved by voters in 2000 that allows prosecutors rather than judges to decide when teenagers are tried as adults. Brown will need valid signatures from 585,407 registered voters to qualify the measure for the November ballot. 

Brown, announcing the measure in a conference call with reporters, said the “determinate sentencing” law he signed when he was governor before “had unintended consequences.” 

“Unintended consequences” is right. The original pioneering California move in the late 1970s to determinate sentencing was a bipartisan collaboration between conservatives, who were concerned that light sentences amounted to coddling offenders, and progressives, who were concerned about the arbitrariness of parole powers and about its disparate impact on poor people and minorities. The last forty years in California, if seven years’ worth of posts on this blog haven’t made it clear, have been a very, very bad idea.

“And one of the key unintended consequences was the removal of incentives for inmates to improve themselves,” he said, “because they had a certain date and there was nothing in their control that would give them a reward for turning their lives around.”
Though his measure would not change sentencing standards, Brown said “it does recognize the virtue of having a certain measure of indeterminacy in the prison system.”
“The driver of individual incentive, recognizing that there are credits to be earned and there’s parole to be attained, is quite a driver,” he said. 

The announcement of the initiative was the first specific sign of how Brown plans to involve himself in the November ballot measure campaigns. The fourth-term governor holds a campaign war chest of about $24 million.

Asked if he would finance the initiative, Brown said he will do “whatever it takes to get this done.” 

Brown will enjoy a relatively favorable electorate, with high turnout for a presidential election typically benefiting Democratic politicians and their causes. 

California voters in recent years have demonstrated a willingness to move away from tough-on-crime policies. In 2014, voters approved Proposition 47, which reduced penalties for some drug and property crimes. Two years earlier, voters passed Proposition 36, revising “three strikes” to require that the third strike be a violent or serious felony. 

The initiative is likely to face opposition from some conservatives. State Sen. Jim Nielsen, R-Gerber, said in a prepared statement that “weakening the criminal justice system will only increase the victimization of California citizens.” 

Brown said the ballot measure’s proposal followed “intense conversation” with law enforcement groups, representatives of which joined him on his conference call.
Brown said he considered including violent offenders in the initiative but that it “met with, I would say, near-universal disinterest” from law enforcement. 

“It became a nonstarter,” he said. 

Brown, who helped create the state’s “determinate sentencing” system when he was governor before, has said for years that it should be revisited. In a speech to judges in Sacramento in November, Brown said he didn’t foresee the dramatic impact determinate sentencing would have on the growth of California’s prison population. The policy scaled back judicial discretion in prison sentences.

I haven’t seen the full text yet [UPDATE: I just read it–here it is–and am posting a follow-up], and will of course comment in depth when I do, but I think some preliminary remarks are in order:

  1. In many ways, the last forty years made us smarter than we were in 1977. We know that Martinson’s somber prediction that “nothing works” in rehabilitation was not true, and that doing rehabilitation properly can reduce recidivism. And we also know that determinate sentencing, and that treating kids as adults, achieves little in the way of equality and streamlining and plenty in the way of packing prisons.
  2. Another way in which we’re smarter now is that we understand that discretion doesn’t go away–it merely moves around. What we did in 1977 was shift it from the hands of judges and parole boars to the hands of prosecutors and legislatures–to the point that some commentators, like John Pfaff and the always fabulous Grits for Breakfast, attribute mass incarceration primarily to prosecutorial charging decisions gone amok.
  3. But let’s not throw the baby with the bathwater. One of the reasons California moved away from determinate sentencing in the first place was concern about unfettered discretion by judges and parole boards. Even now, when parole hearings are relegated to lifers, the board enjoys a lot of discretion and very little transparency. My research for my book in progress about the parole hearings of the Manson family members, Yesterday’s Monsters, shows the very limited responsiveness of the parole board to the California Supreme Court’s supervision, and if we want to get the good stuff (incentives to rehabilitate, shorter sentences) without the bad stuff (discrimination and arbitrariness) we need to design parole in a smarter way. With great power, Spiderman’s uncle reminds us, comes great responsibility, and there are no guarantees that parole boards are much better than prosecutors in the discretion department.
  4. Note the humonetarianism theme throughout the proposal. Just like in the initiative on juvenile justice, the language relies heavily on the issue of cost.
  5. So, what happens to the California Penal Code if this passes? Do we rewrite felony sentencing to eliminate the “triad” and affix broad ranges to allow judges discretion? This is going to be a massive redrafting job, but quite an interesting one, and how successful it is depends on how  controlled it might be by partisan politics.
  6. Finally, the article talks about the possible broad support by California voters–the same ones that voted, by large majority, to make lots of punitive changes that we regret to this day. And it may well be that, beyond cost, one of the major reasons that the Republican lawmaker’s it’s-a-scary-world retort falls flat is that crime rates are low. Very low compared to what our predecessors in 1977 were facing. It may be the case that it’s time to put aside the hubris and conclude that crime rates, like the weather, happen for a variety of causes, of which sentencing reform is only one, and that our decisionmaking process should not sway to and fro every time the pendulum swings.

No New Jail in San Francisco… Now What?

The long-standing debate about the construction of an alternative to San Francisco’s Jail no. 4 at 850 Bryant ended yesterday with a victory for the jail opponents. The supervisors declined to allocate funding to the new building. The advocates who fought against the new jail tooth and nail took to social media to proclaim their victory.

Unfortunately, the alternative–keeping the situation as it is–does not strike me as something to feel particularly victorious about. As I told the Chronicle the day before the vote, the outcome is dismal either way.

The anti-jail advocates are right in saying that we have been housing people that should not have been incarcerated in the first place, and that the high percentage of people with mental illness in the jail suggests that what we need is a mental institution, not a correctional one. They are also right in fearing the construction of a building with more capacity, because our collective experience with incarceration is that new beds tend to fill with new inmates.

I’m sympathetic to these arguments, but they are also somewhat short-sighted. An increase in incarceration is not the only evil under the sun. Unsound, unhealthy incarceration conditions are very problematic as well. Since the existing jail is seismically unsound and dilapidated, the result of the anti-jail victory is basically a temporary return to the status quo, which is dangerous and undesirable. And in the long run, if Jail no. 4 ceases to be operative and there’s no alternative, the concern is that other jails will become overcrowded and unhealthy.

This is not the first adverse incentive of the move to close down prisons. When prison budgets are cut without an equivalent reduction in prison populations, what you get is less prisons and more overcrowding in existing, inadequate facilities. 

So, what’s to be done? The only way out of this maze of bad alternatives is to do the hard work of an empirical survey. Let’s analyze the San Francisco jail population. How many people are there because of a sick money bail system who could otherwise be out on O.R.? How many people should be receiving medical treatment that they can better get in a medical facility? How many people are doing long, realignment-type time in an institution unsuited for a lengthy stay? A budget cut on its own does not lead to a cut in incarceration. It’s time, indeed, to move to another system of rationing punishment: return on investment.

Fueling the mental health system and reforming the money bail system (hopefully by legislating the bail bonds industry out of existence) costs money. Possibly a lot of it. But it has to be properly budgeted and invested. Just saying “no” without providing, and budgeting for, a viable alternative, may be touted as a victory, but it leaves San Francisco jail inmates in the lurch.