despite strict sentencing guidelines that limit their discretion, federal judges still exert some control over punishment severity. principally, they can adjust offense levels based on the facts of the case and depart from the guidelines altogether based on the fit between law and facts.

the chicago tribune reports a new article by max schanzenbach and emerson tiller on the political orientation of judges and sentencing outcomes. the analysis suggests that Republican appointees to federal district courts punish drug trafficking, theft, and violent offenses more harshly than Democratic appointees. conversely, there is some evidence that Democratic appointees raise punishments for white collar offenses by adjusting offense levels upward.

max is a phd economist as well as a jd, exemplifying the trend toward law profs with disciplinary phds and advanced methods skills (he was also my gracious host during an informal lunch talk at northwestern law). this project would seem to present some tricky level-of-analysis ecological issues and nonlinearities. nevertheless, after a very quick read of the full paper, i think the model is generally well-specified, at least within the limits of the data. the substantive story is reasonable and the authors seem both sensitive to and authoritative about the underlying mechanisms linking the putative cause (partisanship) and effect (outcomes).

for a couple reasons, i think the estimated effects of partisanship might be conservative (too low rather than too high). first, the federal courts do not see a lot of “street” crime. relative to state courts, violent offenses in the federal system tend to be acts such as bank robbery rather than, say, strongarm robbery; drug offenses tend to be moderate-to-large-scale trafficking rather than small-time dealing or possession. so, detecting any difference between street versus suite crime would be difficult within the federal system.

second, these effects were observed from 1992 to 2001, a period in which partisan effects may have been muted rather than exaggerated. it would be laughable to characterize Democrats of the era as “soft on crime.” rather than soft versus hard, it might be more apt to characterize the contrast as harsh versus draconian.

since i haven’t done any sentencing research, however, i’ll need a sentencing expert such as celesta albonetti or rod engen to break the full implications down for me. provisionally, however, i’ve reached the following conclusions: (1) if (when?) i’m hauled into federal court for illegally trading oil stocks, i’ll angle for a bush appointee; and, (2) if (when?) i’m hauled in for possessing my 500-count bottle of generic sudafed, i’ll shop for a clinton appointee.

despite strict sentencing guidelines that limit their discretion, federal judges still exert some control over punishment severity. principally, they can adjust offense levels based on the facts of the case and depart from the guidelines altogether based on the fit between law and facts.

the chicago tribune reports a new article by max schanzenbach and emerson tiller on the political orientation of judges and sentencing outcomes. the analysis suggests that Republican appointees to federal district courts punish drug trafficking, theft, and violent offenses more harshly than Democratic appointees. conversely, there is some evidence that Democratic appointees raise punishments for white collar offenses by adjusting offense levels upward.

max is a phd economist as well as a jd, exemplifying the trend toward law profs with disciplinary phds and advanced methods skills (he was also my gracious host during an informal lunch talk at northwestern law). this project would seem to present some tricky level-of-analysis ecological issues and nonlinearities. nevertheless, after a very quick read of the full paper, i think the model is generally well-specified, at least within the limits of the data. the substantive story is reasonable and the authors seem both sensitive to and authoritative about the underlying mechanisms linking the putative cause (partisanship) and effect (outcomes).

for a couple reasons, i think the estimated effects of partisanship might be conservative (too low rather than too high). first, the federal courts do not see a lot of “street” crime. relative to state courts, violent offenses in the federal system tend to be acts such as bank robbery rather than, say, strongarm robbery; drug offenses tend to be moderate-to-large-scale trafficking rather than small-time dealing or possession. so, detecting any difference between street versus suite crime would be difficult within the federal system.

second, these effects were observed from 1992 to 2001, a period in which partisan effects may have been muted rather than exaggerated. it would be laughable to characterize Democrats of the era as “soft on crime.” rather than soft versus hard, it might be more apt to characterize the contrast as harsh versus draconian.

since i haven’t done any sentencing research, however, i’ll need a sentencing expert such as celesta albonetti or rod engen to break the full implications down for me. provisionally, however, i’ve reached the following conclusions: (1) if (when?) i’m hauled into federal court for illegally trading oil stocks, i’ll angle for a bush appointee; and, (2) if (when?) i’m hauled in for possessing my 500-count bottle of generic sudafed, i’ll shop for a clinton appointee.

as anticipated, i learned much at the minnversity’s silenced voices conference on felon disenfranchisement last saturday. in particular, i got a little insight into processes of legal change — in the courts, the legislature, and executives’ offices.

in the courts, catherine weiss of the brennan center and art eisenberg of the nyclu gave tight presentations of the constitutional issues involved in felon disenfranchisement — mainly 14th/15th amendment and voting rights act stuff. ms. weiss gave a thoughtful reply to a question about the supreme court’s refusal to hear johnson v. bush. she speculated that this florida case would have (a) reopened fresh wounds surrounding bush v. gore; and, (b) dumped the court into some turbulent civil liberties waters in these uncertain times.

in the legislature, we heard from minnesota representative keith ellison, who introduced legislation to reenfranchise probationers and parolees. ellison discussed his patriotism as rooted in the slow but inexorable extension of the franchise beyond the propertied white male framers. he also noted that a Republican briefing sheet portrayed his bill as “good policy, but bad politics,” pointing to its likely partisan impact.

the executive branch story came from gary dickey, counsel and advisor to iowa governor tom vilsack. mr. dickey related an all-american/after-school-special story of legal change. a high school class in cedar rapids iowa sunk their teeth into felon voting rights as a class project. they bombarded mr. dickey and state legislators with daily emails — sometimes, i’ll immodestly add, citing my research with jeff manza — and phone calls lobbying for personal meetings and legal change. though not much happened in the legislature, mr. dickey and the governor began thinking about an executive order issuing a blanket pardon and voting rights restoration. at least a portion of this plan was hatched in a pickup basketball game with various staffpersons. so that’s how it works…

somebody’s gotta make a movie about this. dickey named his dogs liberty and Justice, yet even he was astounded by the kids’ commitment to full democratic participation. the conference also featured characteristically clear and authoritative overviews from marc mauer and carl warren, who organized the conference with minnversity law students. nevertheless, i’m still thinking about cedar rapids, iowa and those high school true believers. as mr. jefferson smith himself once speechified,

Just get up off the ground, that’s all I ask. Get up there with that lady that’s up on top of this Capitol dome, that lady that stands for liberty. Take a look at this country through her eyes if you really want to see something. And you won’t just see scenery; you’ll see the whole parade of what man’s carved out for himself, after centuries of fighting. Fighting for something better than just jungle law, fighting so’s he can stand on his own two feet, free and decent, like he was created, no matter what his race, color, or creed. That’s what you’d see. There’s no place out there for graft, or greed, or lies, or compromise with human liberties. And, uh, if that’s what the grownups have done with this world that was given to them, then we’d better get those boys’ camps started fast and see what the kids can do. And it’s not too late, because this country is bigger than the Taylors, or you, or me, or anything else. Great principles don’t get lost once they come to light. They’re right here; you just have to see them again!

i understand that a webcast is planned for the entire conference, including longer presentations by me, marc mauer, and catherine weiss. locals in minnesota can see video replays at the law school on february 10, february 24, and march 31.

as anticipated, i learned much at the minnversity’s silenced voices conference on felon disenfranchisement last saturday. in particular, i got a little insight into processes of legal change — in the courts, the legislature, and executives’ offices.

in the courts, catherine weiss of the brennan center and art eisenberg of the nyclu gave tight presentations of the constitutional issues involved in felon disenfranchisement — mainly 14th/15th amendment and voting rights act stuff. ms. weiss gave a thoughtful reply to a question about the supreme court’s refusal to hear johnson v. bush. she speculated that this florida case would have (a) reopened fresh wounds surrounding bush v. gore; and, (b) dumped the court into some turbulent civil liberties waters in these uncertain times.

in the legislature, we heard from minnesota representative keith ellison, who introduced legislation to reenfranchise probationers and parolees. ellison discussed his patriotism as rooted in the slow but inexorable extension of the franchise beyond the propertied white male framers. he also noted that a Republican briefing sheet portrayed his bill as “good policy, but bad politics,” pointing to its likely partisan impact.

the executive branch story came from gary dickey, counsel and advisor to iowa governor tom vilsack. mr. dickey related an all-american/after-school-special story of legal change. a high school class in cedar rapids iowa sunk their teeth into felon voting rights as a class project. they bombarded mr. dickey and state legislators with daily emails — sometimes, i’ll immodestly add, citing my research with jeff manza — and phone calls lobbying for personal meetings and legal change. though not much happened in the legislature, mr. dickey and the governor began thinking about an executive order issuing a blanket pardon and voting rights restoration. at least a portion of this plan was hatched in a pickup basketball game with various staffpersons. so that’s how it works…

somebody’s gotta make a movie about this. dickey named his dogs liberty and Justice, yet even he was astounded by the kids’ commitment to full democratic participation. the conference also featured characteristically clear and authoritative overviews from marc mauer and carl warren, who organized the conference with minnversity law students. nevertheless, i’m still thinking about cedar rapids, iowa and those high school true believers. as mr. jefferson smith himself once speechified,

Just get up off the ground, that’s all I ask. Get up there with that lady that’s up on top of this Capitol dome, that lady that stands for liberty. Take a look at this country through her eyes if you really want to see something. And you won’t just see scenery; you’ll see the whole parade of what man’s carved out for himself, after centuries of fighting. Fighting for something better than just jungle law, fighting so’s he can stand on his own two feet, free and decent, like he was created, no matter what his race, color, or creed. That’s what you’d see. There’s no place out there for graft, or greed, or lies, or compromise with human liberties. And, uh, if that’s what the grownups have done with this world that was given to them, then we’d better get those boys’ camps started fast and see what the kids can do. And it’s not too late, because this country is bigger than the Taylors, or you, or me, or anything else. Great principles don’t get lost once they come to light. They’re right here; you just have to see them again!

i understand that a webcast is planned for the entire conference, including longer presentations by me, marc mauer, and catherine weiss. locals in minnesota can see video replays at the law school on february 10, february 24, and march 31.

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.