California faces a prison overcrowding problem of formidable proportions. Its prison system, designed to handle 100,000, is now home to 174,000. Although, unlike, say, Scooter Libby, I'm not a person with a keen general interest in prison conditions, 174% of capacity strikes me as pretty overcrowded.
When Californians adopted the three strikes law in 1994 [f.n. 1] it did not occur to anyone that the prison population would increase, and
California’s prisons were overcrowded even then. The prisons had begun to fill in the 1980’s after a series of get-tough-on-crime efforts, particularly in
Los Angeles and
San Francisco, began specifically targeting drug dealers and users.
An increase in drug-related crime throughout the 1980’s and 1990’s was also associated with an increase in gang-related activity, which
becamse the focus of its own anti-crime effort, and at the same time the state ran out of money.
Heavy industry was moving out of
California to cheaper, cleaner, less litigious places, and tax revenues plummeted.
Various governors, including the current one (story
here) have proposed building new prisons, but always encounter the same two problems.
The first is that there still
isn’t any money.
Mr.
Schwartzenegger was originally elected on a promise of fiscal responsibility but since then has balanced the books only in the most theoretical of senses.
The state is financed by a series of bond measures that will be paid off for decades to come.
Bond measures require voter approval, and nobody wants to go into debt to build prisons.
The second problem is that Californians have a very pronounced NIMBY problem that manifests itself in lots of ways.
For example, Californians have more autos per
capita than any other place in the world and burn more gas per
capita than any other state.
Neverhteless they have a pronounced aversion to oil wells off their shore, and oil companies run into stiff local opposition to even to building new wells to exploit known reserves in accessible areas.
Sure, the coast near
Santa Barbara is beautiful and fragile, but no less so than
Southeast Louisiana.
The oil that’s burned in
California comes from
somewhere,
they just don’t want it to be there.
Similarly, after the energy crisis a few years ago there was a great hue and cry about building additional power generators, and every politician with access to a microphone talked about streamlining the regulatory process and speeding up construction. [f.n. 2] When plans were announced about where the generators were to be built, which was, sensibly, close to the places where it was needed, a multilingual howl arose from all and sundry saying that their particular neighborhood was simply unacceptable.
This, of course, applies in equal measure to prisons. Despite the fact that prisons bring lots of jobs and prisoners escape extremely rarely, nobody seems to like the idea of having a prison in his or her neighborhood.
So, in keeping with the idea of getting its gasoline from Louisiana and its electricity from Washington, faced with a vastly overcrowded prison system, Mr. Schwartzenegger came up with the same idea that IBM and Dell did to combat rising labor costs: outsourcing. He proposed shifting about 5,000 prisoners from California to underutilized prisons in Arizona and Tennessee. At least it wasn’t India.
Like so many political solutions, this one ended up in the courts. The prison guards’ union challenged the measure, and why? Because it was unfair to the prisoners to move them hundreds of miles away from their families and lawyers, thus making it difficult for them to appeal, or to have visits? Because it would be unsafe for the people in all of the states between here and Tennessee to have busloads of murderers cruising through at rush hour? Because there was no practical way for the California Department of Corrections to monitor conditions in these out of state jails? Because it only addressed one-fifteenth of the problem, leaving the prisons still at 169% of capacity? No, no, no, and no. The union sued to halt implementation because nobody consulted them before deciding on the program.
Not only that, but Sacramento Superior Court Judge Gail Ohanesian agreed, and halted the prisoner transfer.
This is silly. I understand the idea behind judicial review as well as the next guy, but the political process was never designed to give every judge in every county the power to interrupt the decision-making process of the governor’s office. According to the California court system’s website, there are 1,580 authorized judgeships in California. Judges are elected by county in California, and no judge was elected by more than a tiny fraction of the population of the state. Nevertheless, any one of them has the power to stop the governor from doing any particular thing he might want to do, on no stronger grounds than the prison guards’ complaint that he needed to get their okay before shipping out one thirty-third of the state’s prisoners to Arizona and Tennessee.
The political system is out of joint. Judges have too much power. It’s not a problem of the activist judges that Tom Delay used to complain about, it’s a problem of a political system that has given the ultimate decision on all political questions to the branch of our government that is most isolated from politics. Some decisions need to be free from politics, but political decisions, by and large, do not.
I was in Judge Terry Hatter’s courtroom in the United States District Court for the Central District of California the day he issued a final decision on what came to be known as the Bus Riders’ Case. The City of Los Angeles decided in the 1980’s that it would, at great expense, and after much campaigning and arguing by elected officials, develop a subway system as an alternative to the public transit systems in place at the time, largely based on buses. All of this was debated in public forums [f.n. 3] To raise the money to build the subway system, taxes were raised, fees were assessed, aid was solicited from the state and federal governments, and other transit programs were cut. One aspect of the public transit system that was cut was the acquisition of new buses. The Bus Riders Federation sued the Rapid Transit District on the basis that the subway discriminated against minorities, reasoning that the bus-riding public included a large minority population, and the RTD’s refusal to buy new buses led to overcrowding on the buses, and since this overcrowding was felt disproportionately by minority bus passengers, the effect of the subway system was to discriminate against minorities.
Sound silly? First an arbitrator, then Judge Hatter, ordered the RTD to buy more buses. The RTD said it didn’t have the money. Judge Hatter said find it somewhere. The result was that part of the subway system was delayed and curtailed.
This should not be. The political leaders made a political decision that would involve sacrificing some public goals to achieve others. On the tenuous and slender reed of logic that building a subway discriminated against minorities, Judge Hatter ordered the political leaders to divert from what they had decided, after much public debate and resulting public approval, was the public good.
So. Like I said. This is silly. Things have gone too far. We need to rethink the extent of judicial authority.
Of course, the prisoner transfer program is silly and wrong for all sorts of other reasons, and California’s inability to build adequate prison space is short-sighted and foolish, and Mr. Schwartzenegger ought, if he had any decency, to make good on his campaign promises of fiscal restraint, but the result of the prison guards’ suit is going to be still more court intervention. Overcrowding has reached the point that the courts will soon start requiring the Department of Corrections to release some prisoners to alleviate crowding, if the courts don’t take control of the prison system completely.
Is releasing prisoners outright going to suit the prison guards better than moving them to Tennessee?
This is silly.
[1] Full disclosure: I lived there at the time and voted against it. It was presented as one of California’s ballot initiatives, a system that allows those who can get enough signatures to put a proposed new law on any state-wide ballot. It’s not a bad idea—California’s legislature goes through periods of being totally unresponsive to the electorate. The procedure is overused in the extreme, with special interest groups affixing multiple often conflicting initiatives to each ballot. Conflicting measures often pass and the courts have a terrible time figuring out what the law is. My reason for voting against the three strikes law was that it was too inflexible. I think judges should have discretion in sentencing, and they don’t under three strikes.
[2] It’s not clear to me that building new generators was ever actually necessary. Subsequent investigations revealed that the generators, notably Enron, but others as well, were manipulating the market to create artificial shortages to enhance profits. Several generators were shut down unnecessarily or scheduled for unneeded maintenance at peak power periods. There never was a crisis before, and there hasn’t been once since Enron collapsed and power purchasers began watching the generators more carefully.
[3] I know the plural should be “fora” but that just sounds silly.