Archive: Jan 2006

sometimes when I give a talk these days, people offer me an honorarium. i guess this marks movement beyond the who is chris uggen? career stage, into the short-lived but delightful overrated stage. In academic life, an honorarium is simply payment to visit, lecture, review books for publishers, and do those other scholarly things we do. more formally, an honorarium is payment to any professional for services that do not legally or traditionally require a fee.

aside from travel reimbursements, i never request money to visit or talk. such visits are too much fun — people treat you very well, the audiences are friendly and laugh at your jokes, and the intellectual exchange is great. the only downside is reentry shock when returning home to piles of laundry and dishes, students who are somewhat less excited about your lectures, and buying your own drinks. i try to give colloquia or talks whenever the schedule permits, though i try to limit guest-lecturing in actual classes to the minnversity unless i’m also doing a department talk.

no matter the amount, my benefactors always characterize it as a “small honorarium” or a “token.” sometimes said amount approximates my weekly take-home pay; other times it is smaller but never trivial. that is, if they are only going to give you ten dollars, they don’t call it an “honorarium.” instead, they call it “lunch.” one kind and generous host, who clearly had never seen my car, said that he hoped that their small honorarium ($500!) would not insult me. we use such language, i suppose, because actual famous people who get honoraria are either too rich or too pure to be be tainted by $500. so, we talk as though such amounts are trivial because donald trump (or bill cosby or bill clinton or nelson mandela) might really be insulted by a speaker’s fee of $500. when inviting speakers to my department, i learned that a few famous sociologists — often those the grad students would most like to see — charge five-figure speaking fees. i guess they might be insulted by $500 too.

i’m never insulted, but I often feel guilty taking money to talk (i feel much less guilty taking money to review books because, well, i’m not the most voracious reader in the discipline). when a department chair hands me a check after a visit, however, it feels a little like bringing dirty cash into the pure house of love (just leave the money on the nightstand, honey). of course, i report my outside earnings to the government and the minnversity on a report of professional activities form. i also try to think of productive ways to spend it to assuage the guilt:

1. direct honoraria to charities. i sometimes try to redirect the honoraria to some group or charity i find worthy or interesting. last year i tried to divert an honorarium to a musician’s hurricane relief fund. unfortunately, that created a hassle for the accountants. so, they still ended up cutting me a personal check.

2. formally redistribute honoraria to research assistants. sometimes i’ve involved grad students in public criminology work that does not pay or pays very little. so, i’ve cashed my check and then written them a personal check. because i’m still liable for the taxes on the income — and i’m taxed at a much higher rate than the students — my accountant thought this was about the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “ha ha! that’s a good one – you’re a real smart professor, all right. how long did you go to school? and you’re teaching my kids?”

3. informally redistribute honoraria. this is a little sketchier. instead of cutting an actual check, i just try to buy meals and libations at conferences and such for grad students and friends. these are expenses i feel a little guilty about when the mastercard bill comes, but i assuage the “taking money off the family table to live it up in san francisco” guilt if i’ve got a little “honoraria” money offsetting it.

4. shovel it into the family furnace. sometimes i just put it into the checking account, where it burns away immediately, leaving not a trace of evidence that it ever actually existed.

none of these seem satisfactory. i’d really like to find some way to use the honoraria more meaningfully and productively. so, i’ve got a new idea, inspired by joseph ‘jazz’ hayden, a formerly incarcerated person. a few years ago, mr. hayden quieted a large group of lefty academics, activists, and policy types by raising a simple question. i don’t remember his exact words, but it was something like, “i’m so happy and proud to see all you fine professors and experts here this morning to talk about prisoners. all your writing and talks and concern and activity is so very important. but can you just just give me one example and tell me one little thing that any of you have done to help the brothers in the penitentiary?”

ouch. his question really got to me. i’ve been making good money for the past decade talking and writing about crime and reintegration, but what have i really done to help somebody who is trying to rebuild their life after prison? not much. i’ve given tiny amounts to research organizations such as the sentencing project and the council on crime and Justice, but nothing to former prisoners themselves. i hope my research and teaching counts for something, of course, but it seems stupid to worry about how to get rid of money when there are so many in need. so, i’m going to try another approach.

5. start a felon fund. henceforth, i’m going to redirect the honoraria into a little felon fund. my goal is to build a scholarship or fellowship for somebody returning from the system and giving it their best shot.

i’m not sure whether to direct the felon fund toward expungement or education or some other aspect of reentry, but the important thing is to get started. i figure that if i blog about it, i’ll have to get off my butt and do it. what kind of sleazeball would write about setting up such a fund and then not actually follow through? given my, ahem, slowness in accomplishing any non-academic task, i’ll try to enlist some help in setting this up (sorry, kim. we’ll get the cards out too, i promise). i’ll hereby guarantee to kick in at least half of any 2006 honoraria, with a greater percentage coming once i figure out the tax thing. for me, finding a personal answer to jazz hayden’s question will be a marathon and not a sprint. the felon fund won’t amount to much for some time, but it feels like a small step in the right direction.

sometimes when I give a talk these days, people offer me an honorarium. i guess this marks movement beyond the who is chris uggen? career stage, into the short-lived but delightful overrated stage. In academic life, an honorarium is simply payment to visit, lecture, review books for publishers, and do those other scholarly things we do. more formally, an honorarium is payment to any professional for services that do not legally or traditionally require a fee.

aside from travel reimbursements, i never request money to visit or talk. such visits are too much fun — people treat you very well, the audiences are friendly and laugh at your jokes, and the intellectual exchange is great. the only downside is reentry shock when returning home to piles of laundry and dishes, students who are somewhat less excited about your lectures, and buying your own drinks. i try to give colloquia or talks whenever the schedule permits, though i try to limit guest-lecturing in actual classes to the minnversity unless i’m also doing a department talk.

no matter the amount, my benefactors always characterize it as a “small honorarium” or a “token.” sometimes said amount approximates my weekly take-home pay; other times it is smaller but never trivial. that is, if they are only going to give you ten dollars, they don’t call it an “honorarium.” instead, they call it “lunch.” one kind and generous host, who clearly had never seen my car, said that he hoped that their small honorarium ($500!) would not insult me. we use such language, i suppose, because actual famous people who get honoraria are either too rich or too pure to be be tainted by $500. so, we talk as though such amounts are trivial because donald trump (or bill cosby or bill clinton or nelson mandela) might really be insulted by a speaker’s fee of $500. when inviting speakers to my department, i learned that a few famous sociologists — often those the grad students would most like to see — charge five-figure speaking fees. i guess they might be insulted by $500 too.

i’m never insulted, but I often feel guilty taking money to talk (i feel much less guilty taking money to review books because, well, i’m not the most voracious reader in the discipline). when a department chair hands me a check after a visit, however, it feels a little like bringing dirty cash into the pure house of love (just leave the money on the nightstand, honey). of course, i report my outside earnings to the government and the minnversity on a report of professional activities form. i also try to think of productive ways to spend it to assuage the guilt:

1. direct honoraria to charities. i sometimes try to redirect the honoraria to some group or charity i find worthy or interesting. last year i tried to divert an honorarium to a musician’s hurricane relief fund. unfortunately, that created a hassle for the accountants. so, they still ended up cutting me a personal check.

2. formally redistribute honoraria to research assistants. sometimes i’ve involved grad students in public criminology work that does not pay or pays very little. so, i’ve cashed my check and then written them a personal check. because i’m still liable for the taxes on the income — and i’m taxed at a much higher rate than the students — my accountant thought this was about the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “ha ha! that’s a good one – you’re a real smart professor, all right. how long did you go to school? and you’re teaching my kids?”

3. informally redistribute honoraria. this is a little sketchier. instead of cutting an actual check, i just try to buy meals and libations at conferences and such for grad students and friends. these are expenses i feel a little guilty about when the mastercard bill comes, but i assuage the “taking money off the family table to live it up in san francisco” guilt if i’ve got a little “honoraria” money offsetting it.

4. shovel it into the family furnace. sometimes i just put it into the checking account, where it burns away immediately, leaving not a trace of evidence that it ever actually existed.

none of these seem satisfactory. i’d really like to find some way to use the honoraria more meaningfully and productively. so, i’ve got a new idea, inspired by joseph ‘jazz’ hayden, a formerly incarcerated person. a few years ago, mr. hayden quieted a large group of lefty academics, activists, and policy types by raising a simple question. i don’t remember his exact words, but it was something like, “i’m so happy and proud to see all you fine professors and experts here this morning to talk about prisoners. all your writing and talks and concern and activity is so very important. but can you just just give me one example and tell me one little thing that any of you have done to help the brothers in the penitentiary?”

ouch. his question really got to me. i’ve been making good money for the past decade talking and writing about crime and reintegration, but what have i really done to help somebody who is trying to rebuild their life after prison? not much. i’ve given tiny amounts to research organizations such as the sentencing project and the council on crime and Justice, but nothing to former prisoners themselves. i hope my research and teaching counts for something, of course, but it seems stupid to worry about how to get rid of money when there are so many in need. so, i’m going to try another approach.

5. start a felon fund. henceforth, i’m going to redirect the honoraria into a little felon fund. my goal is to build a scholarship or fellowship for somebody returning from the system and giving it their best shot.

i’m not sure whether to direct the felon fund toward expungement or education or some other aspect of reentry, but the important thing is to get started. i figure that if i blog about it, i’ll have to get off my butt and do it. what kind of sleazeball would write about setting up such a fund and then not actually follow through? given my, ahem, slowness in accomplishing any non-academic task, i’ll try to enlist some help in setting this up (sorry, kim. we’ll get the cards out too, i promise). i’ll hereby guarantee to kick in at least half of any 2006 honoraria, with a greater percentage coming once i figure out the tax thing. for me, finding a personal answer to jazz hayden’s question will be a marathon and not a sprint. the felon fund won’t amount to much for some time, but it feels like a small step in the right direction.

i did a conference call yesterday, tied to the release of on your own without a net: the transition to adulthood for vulnerable populations. the book has chapters on homelessness, mental health, juvenile Justice, foster care, disabilities, mental disorders, and other issues. my piece with sara wakefield discussed difficulties facing young adults coming home from the criminal Justice system. i think that conducting and disseminating research in interaction with affected communities is an important public sociology and policy sociology task. so, i’m usually happy to participate in such calls when i feel qualified.

here’s how it worked. connect for kids publicized the date, time, and call-in number to its mailing list. some of these folks called in at the time to listen, email questions, or ask questions directly of the panelists. we had 5 presenters, each with about 10 minutes to talk before taking questions. we were asked to start with a brief review of the data in the chapter (e.g., trends), but then focus our remarks on policy solutions (e.g., what do we do about it?). approximately 130 people were listening, with a mix of policy folks, advocates, and on-the-ground practitioners and program coordinators.

the other presenters were real experts on their topics (e.g., john hagan on homeless adolescents, mark courtney on foster care) who did a terrific job speaking to the policy and practitioner audience. i too tried my best to give a responsible overview of the field without getting bogged down in statistics or jargon. everybody seemed to make 3 or 4 take-home points that were reasonable and constructive. relative to the call-in talk radio i’ve done, this audience seemed well-informed and quite expert in their fields.

that said, i was struck by the real-world concreteness of the questions relative to our 20,000-foot aerial view answers. for example, one woman with a teenage son in the mental health system asked for some guidance or suggestions on transitioning out of care, but we pretty much replied in abstractions and generalities. i would have been similarly stumped if a caller had asked whether her felony conviction prevented her from getting, say, a fireworks license in albuquerque, new mexico. even though i’d call myself an expert on felon exclusions, i’d likely do what any non-expert would: start googling. lacking much on-the-ground experience ourselves(or a staff to chase things down), individual academics have trouble bridging this gap. i learn a great deal from the journalists, practitioners, and felons who ask me questions (e.g., ohio? no I didn’t know that. who is pushing the legislation? does it look like it will pass?), so i now make it a point to interrogate my interrogators whenever possible.

during yesterday’s call-in questioning i had the distinct sense that the audience probably had more useful answers than the panelists — and that they could help frame more interesting questions for the next round of research. for me, such conference calls illustrate burawoy’s distinction between simply disseminating our work to affected publics versus doing work in dialogue with those publics. dissemination is a good and worthy endeavor, of course, and more of us should probably do more of it. engaging in dialogue with affected publics throughout the research process, however, might help produce rich scholarship of even greater utility.

i did a conference call yesterday, tied to the release of on your own without a net: the transition to adulthood for vulnerable populations. the book has chapters on homelessness, mental health, juvenile Justice, foster care, disabilities, mental disorders, and other issues. my piece with sara wakefield discussed difficulties facing young adults coming home from the criminal Justice system. i think that conducting and disseminating research in interaction with affected communities is an important public sociology and policy sociology task. so, i’m usually happy to participate in such calls when i feel qualified.

here’s how it worked. connect for kids publicized the date, time, and call-in number to its mailing list. some of these folks called in at the time to listen, email questions, or ask questions directly of the panelists. we had 5 presenters, each with about 10 minutes to talk before taking questions. we were asked to start with a brief review of the data in the chapter (e.g., trends), but then focus our remarks on policy solutions (e.g., what do we do about it?). approximately 130 people were listening, with a mix of policy folks, advocates, and on-the-ground practitioners and program coordinators.

the other presenters were real experts on their topics (e.g., john hagan on homeless adolescents, mark courtney on foster care) who did a terrific job speaking to the policy and practitioner audience. i too tried my best to give a responsible overview of the field without getting bogged down in statistics or jargon. everybody seemed to make 3 or 4 take-home points that were reasonable and constructive. relative to the call-in talk radio i’ve done, this audience seemed well-informed and quite expert in their fields.

that said, i was struck by the real-world concreteness of the questions relative to our 20,000-foot aerial view answers. for example, one woman with a teenage son in the mental health system asked for some guidance or suggestions on transitioning out of care, but we pretty much replied in abstractions and generalities. i would have been similarly stumped if a caller had asked whether her felony conviction prevented her from getting, say, a fireworks license in albuquerque, new mexico. even though i’d call myself an expert on felon exclusions, i’d likely do what any non-expert would: start googling. lacking much on-the-ground experience ourselves(or a staff to chase things down), individual academics have trouble bridging this gap. i learn a great deal from the journalists, practitioners, and felons who ask me questions (e.g., ohio? no I didn’t know that. who is pushing the legislation? does it look like it will pass?), so i now make it a point to interrogate my interrogators whenever possible.

during yesterday’s call-in questioning i had the distinct sense that the audience probably had more useful answers than the panelists — and that they could help frame more interesting questions for the next round of research. for me, such conference calls illustrate burawoy’s distinction between simply disseminating our work to affected publics versus doing work in dialogue with those publics. dissemination is a good and worthy endeavor, of course, and more of us should probably do more of it. engaging in dialogue with affected publics throughout the research process, however, might help produce rich scholarship of even greater utility.

former south dakota governor bill janklow was convicted of felony second-degree manslaughter and misdemeanors for reckless driving, speeding, and running a stop sign in january 2004. “wild bill” had long boasted about his speeding and had amassed numerous citations, but this time he sped through a stop sign and his cadillac struck and killed motorcyclist randy scott.

in addition to paying a fine, janklow served 100 days in jail and resigned his seat in the u.s. house. i’m writing about him now because the south dakota supreme court decided this month to reinstate his law license. judge glen severson, writing for the high court:

“While there are public concerns regarding Janklow’s driving, there was no evidence presented to suggest that the public needs protection from Janklow’s conduct as an attorney.”

that’s the funny thing about occupational sanctions that apply broadly to all felons — they often have very little to do with public safety. in california, felons are barred from some 261 job titles. in new york, ineligible occupations include barber shop owner, boxer/wrestler, commercial feed distributor, and emergency medical technician. in florida, the list includes acupuncturist, speech-language pathologist, and cosmetologist. most convicted cosmetologists, of course, lack the means to mount an appeal to the state supreme court. one st. paul pioneer press reader reacted to janklow’s story this way:

Different standard for Janklow?
I read with interest the Jan. 6 story about former South Dakota lawmaker Bill Janklow’s triumph over adversity (“Janklow can resume his law practice”). We should all remember that this comes after being convicted for offenses resulting in a motorcyclist’s death. By contrast, an acquaintance was fired from his job as a car mechanic and was told that he couldn’t pick up a wrench for five years, provided his record remained clean. His sin? Driving while drunk. There is no defense for this behavior from anyone. I will point out, however, that Janklow has been allowed to restart his practice although he hasn’t completed his probation — all before my friend can change your oil. How many standards do we have?
PATRICK QUINN

the felons that i interviewed argued for more narrowly-tailored collateral sanctions — in housing, receipt of public assistance, student aid, voting rights, parental rights, and firearms rights in addition to occupational restrictions. for example, some would ask “what did my assault conviction have to do with voting? i could see losing my vote if i tried to rig an election or something.” janklow’s lawyers made the same argument — what did his manslaughter conviction have to do with lawyering? the standard answer, made by supporters such as george will, is that felons have shown themselves to be “untrustworthy” citizens and therefore blanket restrictions are merited. yet this logic is pushed to absurdity by the dizzying array of lifetime bans imposed on felons.

if i could reinvent the parole and prisoner reentry process, i’d like to see all collateral sanctions imposed on a case-by-case basis in a reentry court. if someone has been convicted of molesting children, then it makes good sense to restrict them from occupations (such as school bus driver) in which they have access to children. i would similarly restrict mr. janklow from driving a school bus, but would likely be sympathetic to his desire to practice law or to pick up a wrench as a mechanic once he has served his sentence. under the current system, only those felons with the information, time, and resources to mount a clemency drive will ever see their rights restored.

former south dakota governor bill janklow was convicted of felony second-degree manslaughter and misdemeanors for reckless driving, speeding, and running a stop sign in january 2004. “wild bill” had long boasted about his speeding and had amassed numerous citations, but this time he sped through a stop sign and his cadillac struck and killed motorcyclist randy scott.

in addition to paying a fine, janklow served 100 days in jail and resigned his seat in the u.s. house. i’m writing about him now because the south dakota supreme court decided this month to reinstate his law license. judge glen severson, writing for the high court:

“While there are public concerns regarding Janklow’s driving, there was no evidence presented to suggest that the public needs protection from Janklow’s conduct as an attorney.”

that’s the funny thing about occupational sanctions that apply broadly to all felons — they often have very little to do with public safety. in california, felons are barred from some 261 job titles. in new york, ineligible occupations include barber shop owner, boxer/wrestler, commercial feed distributor, and emergency medical technician. in florida, the list includes acupuncturist, speech-language pathologist, and cosmetologist. most convicted cosmetologists, of course, lack the means to mount an appeal to the state supreme court. one st. paul pioneer press reader reacted to janklow’s story this way:

Different standard for Janklow?
I read with interest the Jan. 6 story about former South Dakota lawmaker Bill Janklow’s triumph over adversity (“Janklow can resume his law practice”). We should all remember that this comes after being convicted for offenses resulting in a motorcyclist’s death. By contrast, an acquaintance was fired from his job as a car mechanic and was told that he couldn’t pick up a wrench for five years, provided his record remained clean. His sin? Driving while drunk. There is no defense for this behavior from anyone. I will point out, however, that Janklow has been allowed to restart his practice although he hasn’t completed his probation — all before my friend can change your oil. How many standards do we have?
PATRICK QUINN

the felons that i interviewed argued for more narrowly-tailored collateral sanctions — in housing, receipt of public assistance, student aid, voting rights, parental rights, and firearms rights in addition to occupational restrictions. for example, some would ask “what did my assault conviction have to do with voting? i could see losing my vote if i tried to rig an election or something.” janklow’s lawyers made the same argument — what did his manslaughter conviction have to do with lawyering? the standard answer, made by supporters such as george will, is that felons have shown themselves to be “untrustworthy” citizens and therefore blanket restrictions are merited. yet this logic is pushed to absurdity by the dizzying array of lifetime bans imposed on felons.

if i could reinvent the parole and prisoner reentry process, i’d like to see all collateral sanctions imposed on a case-by-case basis in a reentry court. if someone has been convicted of molesting children, then it makes good sense to restrict them from occupations (such as school bus driver) in which they have access to children. i would similarly restrict mr. janklow from driving a school bus, but would likely be sympathetic to his desire to practice law or to pick up a wrench as a mechanic once he has served his sentence. under the current system, only those felons with the information, time, and resources to mount a clemency drive will ever see their rights restored.

i posted recently about my preference for indeterminate sentences (warts n’ all) over mandatory minimums. frankly, one can find egregious miscarriages of Justice under every sentencing scheme. nevertheless, the federal drug laws take the cake. here’s the latest from law.com.

david powell, a 32-year-old with an IQ of 72, was sentenced to life-without-parole for distributing crack. he had two “nickel and dime” drug possession convictions at 16 and 17, which required judge david hurd of new york to lock him up forever on his third drug conviction. as appears to be the case for mr. powell, the full weight of such mandatories often falls upon the “mules” rather than the “kingpins.” the only way powell could have avoided a life sentence would have been to provide “substantial assistance” to the prosecution. as a small-timer, however, he couldn’t offer anything (or, more precisely, anybody) of prosecutorial value. here’s how judge hurd sees it:

“The increment of harm in this case bears no rational relationship to the increment of punishment that I must impose,” Hurd said at a sentencing proceeding last week in Utica, N.Y. “This is what occurs when Congress sets [a] mandatory minimum sentence which distorts the entire judicial process… . As a result, I am obligated to and will now impose this unfair and, more important, unjust sentence.”

aside from inJustice, such policies are expensive. although old dudes are generally much less dangerous than young dudes, it costs a lot more to lock them up. in particular, generations of californians will pay sizable medical costs for the aging prison population delivered by that state’s two- and three-strike sentencing policies. here are some conservative* back-of-the-envelope calculations from the sentencing project:

Assuming that a typical lifer is sentenced at the age of 30 and will live until 70, we can estimate conservatively that incarceration costs of $20,000 a year from age 30 to age 60 will total $600,000. From age 60 to 70, costs are conservatively at least $40,000 a year, yielding a total lifetime cost of $1 million.

whatever you think of mr. powell’s crimes, do we really need to spend a million dollars on him? and these costs don’t even consider his lost productivity over the next forty years — when he could be paying social security and income taxes. there’s a nice RAND cost effectiveness analysis by jonathon caulkins and colleagues that attempts to account for some of these complexities. here is the authors’ bottom line:

a million dollars spent extending sentences to mandatory minimum lengths would reduce cocaine consumption less than would a million dollars spent on the pre-mandatory-minimum mix of arrests, prosecution, and sentencing. Neither would reduce cocaine consumption or cocaine-related crime as much as spending a million dollars treating heavy users.

*i characterize these estimates as conservative because $20k and $40k are lower than anything else i’ve seen. it varies by jurisdiction, but i’d guess that $25k and $65k would be closer to the mark in the federal system.

i posted recently about my preference for indeterminate sentences (warts n’ all) over mandatory minimums. frankly, one can find egregious miscarriages of Justice under every sentencing scheme. nevertheless, the federal drug laws take the cake. here’s the latest from law.com.

david powell, a 32-year-old with an IQ of 72, was sentenced to life-without-parole for distributing crack. he had two “nickel and dime” drug possession convictions at 16 and 17, which required judge david hurd of new york to lock him up forever on his third drug conviction. as appears to be the case for mr. powell, the full weight of such mandatories often falls upon the “mules” rather than the “kingpins.” the only way powell could have avoided a life sentence would have been to provide “substantial assistance” to the prosecution. as a small-timer, however, he couldn’t offer anything (or, more precisely, anybody) of prosecutorial value. here’s how judge hurd sees it:

“The increment of harm in this case bears no rational relationship to the increment of punishment that I must impose,” Hurd said at a sentencing proceeding last week in Utica, N.Y. “This is what occurs when Congress sets [a] mandatory minimum sentence which distorts the entire judicial process… . As a result, I am obligated to and will now impose this unfair and, more important, unjust sentence.”

aside from inJustice, such policies are expensive. although old dudes are generally much less dangerous than young dudes, it costs a lot more to lock them up. in particular, generations of californians will pay sizable medical costs for the aging prison population delivered by that state’s two- and three-strike sentencing policies. here are some conservative* back-of-the-envelope calculations from the sentencing project:

Assuming that a typical lifer is sentenced at the age of 30 and will live until 70, we can estimate conservatively that incarceration costs of $20,000 a year from age 30 to age 60 will total $600,000. From age 60 to 70, costs are conservatively at least $40,000 a year, yielding a total lifetime cost of $1 million.

whatever you think of mr. powell’s crimes, do we really need to spend a million dollars on him? and these costs don’t even consider his lost productivity over the next forty years — when he could be paying social security and income taxes. there’s a nice RAND cost effectiveness analysis by jonathon caulkins and colleagues that attempts to account for some of these complexities. here is the authors’ bottom line:

a million dollars spent extending sentences to mandatory minimum lengths would reduce cocaine consumption less than would a million dollars spent on the pre-mandatory-minimum mix of arrests, prosecution, and sentencing. Neither would reduce cocaine consumption or cocaine-related crime as much as spending a million dollars treating heavy users.

*i characterize these estimates as conservative because $20k and $40k are lower than anything else i’ve seen. it varies by jurisdiction, but i’d guess that $25k and $65k would be closer to the mark in the federal system.

one could devote several blogs to the moral panic surrounding people convicted of sex crimes. the stories are depressing, frustrating, and creepy on many levels, so i don’t often follow up on them. but this story, sent by the blog muse last week, and this one from the weekend really caught my eye. i’ve italicized for emphasis in both excerpts.

GOV PUSHES NEW PRISON FOR PERVS by KENNETH LOVETT New York Post January 11, 2006

ALBANY – The state will build a “pervert prison” , a special maximum-security facility for the most dangerous sex offenders, it was announced yesterday. Gov. Pataki yesterday said the facility is needed to confine 500 convicted sex predators considered too likely to strike again to let back on the streets after their prison terms are over…

Frustrated that the Democrat-controlled Assembly repeatedly blocked civil-confinement legislation, Pataki late last year ordered his administration to “push the envelope” in keeping sex offenders deemed dangerous locked up by using existing law pertaining to the involuntary commitment the mentally ill.

Creating a new facility, which would open in 2009, would allow the mental-health system to keep dangerous sex offenders whose prison terms expire away from nonviolent mentally ill patients, Pataki said.

Donna Lieberman, executive director of the New York Civil Liberties Union, said the governor is “putting the cart before the horse” since the state does not yet have a civil-confinement law on the books. “It’s interesting he’s prepared to spend money to build yet another prison, but not engage in the kind of evaluation, monitoring, supervision and treatment of high-risk offenders that all the experts agree can significantly reduce the risk or incidents of reoffense,” Lieberman said.

Meanwhile, lawyers for the sex offenders now in mental facilities were grilled yesterday by the panel of Manhattan appellate-division judges who are deciding on the constitutionality of the civil commitments. The inmates’ lawyers argue that Pataki is doing an end run around the corrections commitment procedures by having the inmates’ dangerousness evaluated by state doctors – essentially the governor’s own shills. [emphasis added].

okay, i know the story comes from the post, but here’s what catches my eye as a sociologist and criminologist:

1. dehumanizing language – isn’t the term “sex offender” stigmatizing enough? does the post really need to refer to individuals convicted of sexual crimes as “pervs” or perverts? the term is gratuitous and really imprecise to boot.

2. “after their prison terms are over” – the proposed prison is not for people serving prison sentences, but for those who have already done their time. this sort of do-over for the state has generally withstood constitutional scrutiny for sex offenders, but i’m skeptical that it would for anyone else. as the nyclu points out, states could provide evaluation, treatment, and supervision of sex offenders while they are under criminal sentences.

3. “allow the mental health system” – mental health treatment does not appear to be the primary (or secondary or tertiary) motivation here. sex offenders are deemed mentally ill because they are perceived as dangerous and the mental health system offers another avenue for incapacitating them. i would prefer to see long prison sentences of indeterminate duration, rather than a transfer of authority to the mental health system at the conclusion of a shorter sentence.

4. “push the envelope” – governor pataki must be hearkening back to his days as a top gun fighter pilot here. in this case, it sounds as though the “envelope” is the constitutional protections typically afforded criminal defendants. [what else could he mean here?]

5. “evaluated by state doctors” – however well-intentioned, one could easily imagine abuse potential in a system with no independent evaluation of dangerousness.

perhaps this is me just being paranoid — too much huxley and orwell in middle school or something. are my fears of abuse exaggerated? if so, it is tough to explain a case reported by the minneapolis strib yesterday. in recent years, minnesota has dramatically expanded its use of civil commitment proceedings for “sexually dangerous persons.” today the net has widened to the point that it captures people who were never even charged with sex crimes.

Dwayne Peterson, 25, of Mankato, Minn., has never been convicted of a sex offense or even charged with one. But after completing a prison term for kidnapping a 78-year-old man at gunpoint in 2001, he now sits in the Security Hospital in St. Peter pending civil court proceedings to commit him indefinitely to the Minnesota Sex Offender Program as a sexually dangerous person. Peterson wouldn’t be the first of the nearly 300 men confined under the program — from which no one has ever been permanently released — to be committed without a prior sex-crime conviction. [emphasis added]

at age 25, mr. peterson has completed his court-imposed sentence. it is no exaggeration to say that he may now spend the rest of his life behind bars for a crime that was never even brought to trial. if the allegations (of sexual activity with boys) had been brought to trial, he would almost certainly be acquitted. according to his attorney, there are “no corroborating victim-witnesses for Peterson’s accounts.”

in minnesota, as in new york, i remain convinced that the goals of such commitment proceedings are incapacitation and retribution rather than rehabilitation or treatment. the fact that none of the 300 men confined under the program has ever been released suggests as much, though i should point out that i am no expert on the inner workings of this system and have never even visited these facilities. nevertheless, i have to ask whether it is good public policy to transfer authority from the criminal Justice system to the mental health system in such cases.

just to be clear, i am not suggesting lighter sentences for sex offenders. i’m just as creeped out by the lurid description of sex crimes reported in these stories as everyone else. but i’m also creeped out by the hopeless constitutional no-man’s land in which we place individuals convicted of these acts — or simply suspected of these acts, in the case of mr. peterson. personally, i’m a believer in old-school discretionary parole and indeterminate sentences within the criminal Justice system. some will turn out much longer and some will turn out much shorter than the current mandatories. this system was also subject to abuse, of course, but it seems subject to greater reform and oversight than the far slipperier civil commitment procedures we employ today.

one could devote several blogs to the moral panic surrounding people convicted of sex crimes. the stories are depressing, frustrating, and creepy on many levels, so i don’t often follow up on them. but this story, sent by the blog muse last week, and this one from the weekend really caught my eye. i’ve italicized for emphasis in both excerpts.

GOV PUSHES NEW PRISON FOR PERVS by KENNETH LOVETT New York Post January 11, 2006

ALBANY – The state will build a “pervert prison” , a special maximum-security facility for the most dangerous sex offenders, it was announced yesterday. Gov. Pataki yesterday said the facility is needed to confine 500 convicted sex predators considered too likely to strike again to let back on the streets after their prison terms are over…

Frustrated that the Democrat-controlled Assembly repeatedly blocked civil-confinement legislation, Pataki late last year ordered his administration to “push the envelope” in keeping sex offenders deemed dangerous locked up by using existing law pertaining to the involuntary commitment the mentally ill.

Creating a new facility, which would open in 2009, would allow the mental-health system to keep dangerous sex offenders whose prison terms expire away from nonviolent mentally ill patients, Pataki said.

Donna Lieberman, executive director of the New York Civil Liberties Union, said the governor is “putting the cart before the horse” since the state does not yet have a civil-confinement law on the books. “It’s interesting he’s prepared to spend money to build yet another prison, but not engage in the kind of evaluation, monitoring, supervision and treatment of high-risk offenders that all the experts agree can significantly reduce the risk or incidents of reoffense,” Lieberman said.

Meanwhile, lawyers for the sex offenders now in mental facilities were grilled yesterday by the panel of Manhattan appellate-division judges who are deciding on the constitutionality of the civil commitments. The inmates’ lawyers argue that Pataki is doing an end run around the corrections commitment procedures by having the inmates’ dangerousness evaluated by state doctors – essentially the governor’s own shills. [emphasis added].

okay, i know the story comes from the post, but here’s what catches my eye as a sociologist and criminologist:

1. dehumanizing language – isn’t the term “sex offender” stigmatizing enough? does the post really need to refer to individuals convicted of sexual crimes as “pervs” or perverts? the term is gratuitous and really imprecise to boot.

2. “after their prison terms are over” – the proposed prison is not for people serving prison sentences, but for those who have already done their time. this sort of do-over for the state has generally withstood constitutional scrutiny for sex offenders, but i’m skeptical that it would for anyone else. as the nyclu points out, states could provide evaluation, treatment, and supervision of sex offenders while they are under criminal sentences.

3. “allow the mental health system” – mental health treatment does not appear to be the primary (or secondary or tertiary) motivation here. sex offenders are deemed mentally ill because they are perceived as dangerous and the mental health system offers another avenue for incapacitating them. i would prefer to see long prison sentences of indeterminate duration, rather than a transfer of authority to the mental health system at the conclusion of a shorter sentence.

4. “push the envelope” – governor pataki must be hearkening back to his days as a top gun fighter pilot here. in this case, it sounds as though the “envelope” is the constitutional protections typically afforded criminal defendants. [what else could he mean here?]

5. “evaluated by state doctors” – however well-intentioned, one could easily imagine abuse potential in a system with no independent evaluation of dangerousness.

perhaps this is me just being paranoid — too much huxley and orwell in middle school or something. are my fears of abuse exaggerated? if so, it is tough to explain a case reported by the minneapolis strib yesterday. in recent years, minnesota has dramatically expanded its use of civil commitment proceedings for “sexually dangerous persons.” today the net has widened to the point that it captures people who were never even charged with sex crimes.

Dwayne Peterson, 25, of Mankato, Minn., has never been convicted of a sex offense or even charged with one. But after completing a prison term for kidnapping a 78-year-old man at gunpoint in 2001, he now sits in the Security Hospital in St. Peter pending civil court proceedings to commit him indefinitely to the Minnesota Sex Offender Program as a sexually dangerous person. Peterson wouldn’t be the first of the nearly 300 men confined under the program — from which no one has ever been permanently released — to be committed without a prior sex-crime conviction. [emphasis added]

at age 25, mr. peterson has completed his court-imposed sentence. it is no exaggeration to say that he may now spend the rest of his life behind bars for a crime that was never even brought to trial. if the allegations (of sexual activity with boys) had been brought to trial, he would almost certainly be acquitted. according to his attorney, there are “no corroborating victim-witnesses for Peterson’s accounts.”

in minnesota, as in new york, i remain convinced that the goals of such commitment proceedings are incapacitation and retribution rather than rehabilitation or treatment. the fact that none of the 300 men confined under the program has ever been released suggests as much, though i should point out that i am no expert on the inner workings of this system and have never even visited these facilities. nevertheless, i have to ask whether it is good public policy to transfer authority from the criminal Justice system to the mental health system in such cases.

just to be clear, i am not suggesting lighter sentences for sex offenders. i’m just as creeped out by the lurid description of sex crimes reported in these stories as everyone else. but i’m also creeped out by the hopeless constitutional no-man’s land in which we place individuals convicted of these acts — or simply suspected of these acts, in the case of mr. peterson. personally, i’m a believer in old-school discretionary parole and indeterminate sentences within the criminal Justice system. some will turn out much longer and some will turn out much shorter than the current mandatories. this system was also subject to abuse, of course, but it seems subject to greater reform and oversight than the far slipperier civil commitment procedures we employ today.