Beyond Bars

The "tough on crime" era is coming to an end, leaving bloated prisons and blighted neighborhoods in its wake. But what's next?

The man's only complaint is a briskly bleeding laceration on his anterior left forearm, which he's clamping with a wadded red bandana in his other hand. His skin is a little tachy, he doesn't remember the incident, he doesn't know where he is, and he's worried somebody is going to steal two handguns from the cab of his truck. (Like there's a crowd, right?) He won't tolerate c-spine, he won't lie down, he doesn't want oxygen, he doesn't want to hear about any hospital, and he wants you to get out of his face. He's belligerent about that, he's rambling, and he's angrily insisting that you procure his guns for him.In the 1992 presidential campaign, Bill Clinton took that lesson to heart. The then-governor of Arkansas left the campaign trail to make a show of signing the death warrant for Ricky Ray Rector, a 40-year-old black man who had killed a white police officer. (Rector had suffered a bullet wound to the head, and his lawyers argued he wasn't mentally competent to stand trial, let alone be executed.) Clinton sent the message to crucial middleof-the-road white voters that he was no Dukakis. It would be a mistake, though, to characterize Clinton's behavior as mere political posturing. Later, as president, he supported the "three strikes" law that helped swell the prison population.The last time Haines violated his parole (by fading to report to his parole officer), instead of running and waiting to get caught, he simply turned himself in and ended up with an ankle bracelet that monitors whether he is home when he's supposed to be. On the street, Haines says, a culture of superstition has built up around the bracelet. People believe it contains a GPS, which it doesn't. People also believe it records conversations, which it doesn't. What it does do is track whether the bracelet is in the vicinity of a base transmitter placed in Haines' house to ensure he's there when he's required to be. His parole officer will remove the ankle bracelet only if he finds a full-time job or enrolls in school- if he makes a substantial effort to leave the streets behind.The ankle bracelet might be more commonly associated with law-breaking celebrities like Martha Stewart or Paris Hilton, but some experts believe it could be the future of criminal justice- a way to supervise offenders in the community without incurring the social, financial, and community costs of incarceration. Instead of sending Haines back to prison for a lengthy sentence that will cost the state a great deal of money, New Jersey turned him into a kind of outpatient inmate whose ability to cause suffering to himself and others is greatly diminished. He also has a chance at building a new life- something he wouldn't have if he were incarcerated.In the meantime, he showers with it on, sleeps with it on, and while it's starting to drive him crazy, Haines admits that it has probably saved his life. As a result of both the constant supervision and the suspicion the bracelet draws, he has been isolated and unable to figure out who killed his friends and potentially retaliate. In his pajama pants, white socks, and flip-flops, Haines hardly cuts the intimidating figure he hints at in conversation. He now rarely leaves his father's house, preferring to stay at home and take care of his little sisters.You weren't born yesterday, so you ask the deputy for help, and he imposes a legal mental health hold empowering you to restrain the old man, treat him and get him to a hospital. A week later, your chief calls you. There's a smokin' complaint, so long and so detailed its writing probably spanned the whole interval.Witnesses said Mitchall Wilkey, 24, was listening to an iPod while walking toward the TRAX platform from the parking lot about 5 p.m. when the northbound train hit him, sending him flying into a nearby chain-link fence."This is the great breakthrough of the last decade."Haines might be out there with them if it weren't for the black box that's been strapped to his ankle since he violated the conditions of his parole several weeks ago. Haines, 27, has only caught two non-drug charges - one for trespassing, one for weapons possession- but he has been under supervision for the past nine years because he's made parole violations something of a habit. (Haines' name has been changed for his safety.)"We have the emergence of a very pragmatic, non-ideological crime-policy conversation that is allowing us to set aside philosophical differences to reduce crime and prisons," says Jeremy Travis, president of the John Jay College of Criminal Justice."It looked very bad," he said.America is slowly inching away from decades of a draconian approach to criminal justice - one that has resulted in the "land of the free" imprisoning more of its citizens than any another country in the world. In Congress, bills to repeal the sentencing disparity between crack and powder cocaine are gathering momentum. The new head of the Office ofNational Drug Control Policy, Gil Kerlikowske, has abandoned the "drug war" rhetoric. Religious conservatives commiserate with bleeding-heart liberals over what to do about recidivism. In states like New Jersey, officials are thinking of creative ways to curb offending behavior without relying solely on incarceration. Although ideas like graduated sanctions have been around for years, they are now being implemented in earnest as states seek new strategies for deterring crime rather than simply punishing it.A. Restraint calls generate more complaints than any other kind, especially when the patient is placed under a hold. If your chief is the least bit reasonable, he'll treat this call a lot differently than a typical service complaint. Especially if the guy's letter seems illogical or unreasonable.

In the 1992 presidential campaign, Bill Clinton took that lesson to heart. The then-governor of Arkansas left the campaign trail to make a show of signing the death warrant for Ricky Ray Rector, a 40-year-old black man who had killed a white police officer. (Rector had suffered a bullet wound to the head, and his lawyers argued he wasn't mentally competent to stand trial, let alone be executed.) Clinton sent the message to crucial middleof-the-road white voters that he was no Dukakis. It would be a mistake, though, to characterize Clinton's behavior as mere political posturing. Later, as president, he supported the "three strikes" law that helped swell the prison population.

Author: Serwer, Adam