Virginia is Paying the Price for Prison Boom
March, 2000
By Bill Sizemore
The Virginian-Pilot
Six years ago, an underdog ex-congressman named George Allen was
elected governor of Virginia in a landslide after riding a campaign that
portrayed the state in the grip of a violent crime wave.
One of his TV ads depicted the sound of gunfire and scenes of gunshot
victims and wailing ambulances. The spot accused Allen's opponent, a former
attorney general, of presiding over ``the largest increase in violent crime
in history.''
Overlooked in the rhetorical barrage was a salient fact: Crime in
Virginia in 1993, already low by national standards, was on the decline.
On taking office, Allen championed a program to ``halt the reign
of terror by violent career criminals and make Virginia safe again.''
Republicans and Democrats in the General Assembly obliged, passing
sweeping laws that lengthened many criminal sentences, abolished parole
and launched Virginia on a $400 million wave of prison construction.
Today Virginia -- a historically low-crime state -- has a criminal
justice system that stands out as one of the most punitive in the United
States and the world.
It keeps a higher percentage of its residents locked up than 31 other
U.S. states, many of which have significantly higher crime rates. Its incarceration
rate of 640 per 100,000 residents is twice that of South Africa and not
far behind Russia.
It executes more people than any other state except Texas.
And the state keeps a third of its criminals in prison for 20 years
to life, more than 40 other states.
This get-tough policy has diverted hundreds of millions in state
funds to build prisons, constricting the state's ability to reduce traffic
gridlock and move its schoolchildren from trailers to classrooms. Prison
spending is growing twice as fast as spending for colleges and universities.
It costs Virginia taxpayers nearly $22,000 to imprison one inmate for a
year -- more than twice the cost of tuition, room and board at a state
university.
It costs up to three times that much to keep the growing number of
older prisoners locked up, further escalating the state's prison bill,
which soon will reach $1 billion a year.
Prisons have become a growth industry in Virginia.
Over the past five years, the state has built six new prisons containing
8,000 cells. It now incarcerates 31,000 Virginians in more than 50 prisons,
detention centers and other lockups from Chesapeake to Big Stone Gap. The
Department of Corrections and related agencies employ nearly 17,000 people
-- 15 percent of the state government's work force -- which puts it on
a par with Newport News Shipbuilding, Virginia's largest manufacturer.
Despite Virginia's high incarceration rates, the building boom has
far exceeded the number of state inmates. As a result, the state now imports
out-of-state criminals to fill 4,000 empty prison beds.
And while violent criminals were said to be the target of the state's
get-tough policy, the swelling of Virginia's prison population has come
primarily from locking up drug offenders, not violent criminals.
Advocates of the policy claim success from the drop in the state's
crime rate, but fail to note that violent crime has dropped even more nationwide.
Virginia's tough law-and-order stance shows no signs of abating.
Gov. Jim Gilmore fully supports the Allen initiatives and believes that
Virginia still isn't tough enough on drug offenders. Last fall, with the
support of Lt. Gov. John Hager, Attorney General Mark Earley and key General
Assembly leaders, he proposed a $41.5 million anti-drug program that would
include hiring 210 new state troopers to help catch offenders.
Then-Gov. George Allen tries out a bed in a new work camp at James
River Correctional Center in 1995. Allen's anti-crime initiatives accelerated
a punitive trend that was already under way. AP file photo.
Fear, Not Facts, Fueled Get-Tough Policy:
Fighting crime was a popular political theme in the 1980s and 1990s.
Allen capitalized on that sentiment, and his anti-crime initiatives accelerated
a punitive trend that was already under way in Virginia. Counting out-of-state
inmates, the state's prison population has nearly quadrupled since 1981,
placing Virginia in the forefront of a national movement to put more and
more people behind bars.
``We were coming out of a period of social turbulence -- Vietnam,
racial tension, riots in the streets, drugs,'' said Charles Thomas, a criminologist
at the University of Florida. ``Once they detected that there was this
broad fear of criminal victimization, even though the actual statistical
risk of criminal victimization was declining, the politicians on both sides
of the aisle really began working it. There was competition between Democrats
and Republicans, each claiming to be tougher on crime than the other.''
Crime in Virginia, which already was well below the national average,
has declined 25 percent since 1981.
The rate spiked upward for a few years in the late 1980s, but it
never again reached the 1981 level. It peaked in 1991 and was already on
its way back down when Allen, a Republican, proposed his get-tough policies
and the Assembly enacted them with the support of Democratic majorities
in the House and Senate.
Violent crime in Virginia -- the primary focus of the anti-crime
campaign -- stood at about half the national average in 1993, the year
Allen was elected.
Larry Sabato, a government professor at the University of Virginia,
said the overwhelming legislative support for Allen's get-tough program
was a matter of political survival.
``It was the main plank in the campaign, and he was elected in one
of the largest landslides in modern Virginia history,'' Sabato said. ``The
Democrats, who already had been reduced to a small majority, were in no
position to oppose him. . . . To vote against that was potentially political
suicide.
``Even delegates and senators who privately opposed this change voted
for it,'' Sabato said. ``They would tell me off the record they had no
choice. And they were right.''
When Allen was elected, Sen. J. Randy Forbes of Chesapeake served
in the House of Delegates, where he led the governor's drive for parole
reform. Forbes, who is now state Republican chairman, said there was more
than politics behind the initiative.
Prisons were so overcrowded when Allen took office that state inmates
were backlogged in local jails. Seven sheriffs sued to force removal of
the state prisoners.
``If you look at where we were in the late '80s when the prisons
were overcrowded, I think what we did was a very rational approach,'' Forbes
said.
Forbes said legislators feared the overcrowding might prompt a federal
court takeover of the state prison system, as had happened in many other
states.
``Most of the increase in cost would have been occasioned anyway,
even without the abolition of parole,'' Allen said.
Forbes said the empty beds in Virginia's prisons are only temporary.
The get-tough program is still relatively new. As it takes hold, those
cells will be filled by Virginia lawbreakers, Forbes said.
The problem of backlogged state inmates has been alleviated, said
Maj. William T. Mann, commanding officer of correctional operations in
Virginia Beach, one of the cities that sued the state.
State law requires that state inmates be moved out of local jails
within 60 days of sentencing. At the height of the overcrowding, Virginia
Beach had as many as 200 state inmates in custody past that deadline, Mann
said. Now there is only a handful.
``The state has been very responsive to our needs,'' Mann said.
Prevention Takes a Back Seat:
Beyond practical concerns about relieving prison overcrowding, the
Allen initiatives were driven by a philosophical conviction that efforts
at crime prevention and rehabilitation are futile -- that the only way
to deal with violent criminals is to lock them away in prison and keep
them there.
In many ways, the Allen program repudiated a report produced in 1989
by a blue-ribbon commission that studied prison and jail overcrowding in
Virginia. That was the last year of the term of Gov. Gerald Baliles, a
Democrat.
That report contrasted Virginia's low crime rate with its incarceration
policies, which even then were among the toughest in the nation, and warned
of the resulting strain on the state budget. ``One thing is clear,'' the
commission declared: ``To lower the risk to the community through incarceration
alone, the community will continue to pay higher and higher costs.''
Saying the state needed to address the root causes of crime, the
commission recommended an array of non-punitive measures such as drug treatment,
education, vocational training and expanded use of probation and parole.
A new, Allen-appointed commission revisited the subject in 1994 and
found ``no unequivocal evidence that prevention programs had a crime-reduction
effect,'' said Richard P. Kern, director of the Virginia Criminal Sentencing
Commission.
The Allen initiatives took the state farther down the punitive road
that the 1989 commission warned about, said the Rev. Joseph N. Green Jr.,
a former Norfolk vice mayor who served on that panel.
``They went for the overkill,'' Green said.
The state's punitive stance extends beyond incarceration to the ultimate
sanction. Since the U.S. Supreme Court reinstituted the death penalty in
1976, Virginia has put 75 prisoners to death by electrocution or lethal
injection -- second only to Texas.
The pace of executions quickened dramatically in the 1990s. Last
year there were 14, a modern-day record.
The state's restrictions on death-row appeals are the toughest in
the nation. New evidence of innocence becomes inadmissible in the trial
court three weeks after a death sentence is imposed. A legislative effort
to ease that rule is pending in a Senate committee.
Backers: Virginia is a National Model:
Allen, who is preparing a run for the U.S. Senate, staunchly defends
his program. ``It has actually worked very, very well and as we predicted,''
Allen said.
As a result of his initiatives, Allen said, ``Virginia is much safer
for people to live or to work or to raise their families.''
Many Allen supporters in the legislature echo that view.
``Virginia is the model for the nation when it comes to criminal
justice reform now,'' said Sen. Kenneth W. Stolle, R-Virginia Beach, chairman
of the Virginia State Crime Commission.
Stolle, Forbes and others say Allen and the legislature succeeded
in their primary goal: to change the focus of Virginia's incarceration
policies from nonviolent to violent offenders.
``Many of us are absolutely convinced that the policies we put in
are right,'' Forbes said.
Sentences for violent crimes in Virginia today are probably the toughest
in the country, Kern said, and sentences for drug offenses are among the
toughest.
The tougher sentences sprang from Allen's 1994 ``truth in sentencing''
initiative, which lengthened sentences for some offenses up to six times
what they were before.
Despite the falling crime rate, the number of Virginians in prison
increased 5.9 percent from 1998 to 1999, reflecting the lengthened sentences
and the virtual disappearance of parole.
The Allen program abolished parole for all new sentencings after
Jan. 1, 1995. Prisoners now must serve at least 85 percent of the sentence
imposed; the average is more than 90 percent. Since parole was abolished,
75,000 felons have been sentenced. Of these, 15,000 got ``dramatically
longer'' sentences than they otherwise would have, Kern said.
In addition, the percentage of prisoners paroled has plummeted from
41 percent a decade ago to 6.5 percent today.
That was by design, Allen said. Since parole couldn't be abolished
retroactively, he said, ``I appointed people to the parole board who shared
our philosophy.'' The result: The board cracked down on the earlier offenders.
Critics: Prison Focus Hurts Other Institutions:
Critics say Virginia's anti-crime policies have been off target,
unnecessary and a colossal waste of money. Funding that could have gone
toward improving Virginia schools and roads has been poured into unneeded
prisons, they say.
Virginia Forward, a group that includes some of Virginia's most
prominent business leaders, issued a report in December predicting that
state and local revenues will fall at least $3 billion short of needs every
year for the next decade. The options facing the state are all painful,
the study concluded: Raise taxes, cut services or let schools and roads
deteriorate.
Among those throwing darts at the state's incarceration practices
has been Lucien X. Lombardo, a professor of sociology and criminal justice
at Old Dominion University. His concern has been as much economic as social.
``In my opinion, building the prison infrastructure that Gov. Allen
proposes will pour billions of dollars down a black hole never to be seen
again,'' Lombardo told a General Assembly committee in September 1994.
``Other, more productive uses for tax dollars and opportunities for improving
the quality of life of Virginians will of necessity be ignored.''
That is exactly what happened, Lombardo said in a recent interview.
``It's the politics of fear,'' he said. ``You can't get elected by
being `soft on crime.' ''
One area of state spending that has suffered is higher education.
Spending for state colleges and universities already was reeling from severe
cuts in state aid during the recession of the early 1990s. Virginia had
plummeted to 43rd in the nation in per-student funding by 1994. In-state
tuition for Virginia students consequently spiked to among the highest
in the nation.
``The major budget drivers of the early 1990s were Medicaid and prisons,''
said Donald Finley, who was Baliles' secretary of education in the late
1980s and now directs the Virginia Business Higher Education Council, a
nonprofit business coalition that promotes public investment in higher
education.
``Unfortunately, a major casualty of that, which we're still trying
to recoup from, was funding for higher education,'' Finley said. ``State
funding went down and tuitions went up. There just wasn't any money left
to invest in higher education.''
In recent General Assembly sessions, lawmakers have raised the state's
per-student funding to 33rd in the nation -- $5,645, which is $200 below
the national average.
Transportation also has fallen behind. Recent national studies have
found that gridlock in Northern Virginia is second only to Los Angeles.
Recently there has been talk of imposing tolls or a regional gas tax to
ease growing congestion in Hampton Roads.
By several estimates, the state is falling at least $1 billion a
year behind on meeting its transportation needs. Gov. Gilmore, a Republican,
has proposed $2.5 billion in new spending over the next six years, which
works out to just over $400 million a year -- less than half of what's
needed.
Harsher Sentences Don't Mean Fewer Crimes:
Allen and his supporters say there is a cause-and-effect relationship
between his initiatives and the decline in crime since 1994.
But there is little hard evidence to back up the argument that locking
up more people longer results in fewer crimes.
Allen and others point to a recent analysis by the Heritage Foundation,
a conservative think tank, which found that violent crime is 2.4 times
more prevalent in Montgomery County, Md., than in its demographically similar
neighbor, Fairfax County, Va. The best explanation for the disparity, the
authors suggested, is Virginia's toughened sentencing policies.
``While Virginia's crime rate may have been better than the national
average, that's good, but it was still unacceptably high to me,'' Allen
said. ``. . . If Virginia had continued the lenient early-release system,
the crime rate clearly, in my view, would be worse.
``It's just logic. You have these people in prison; they're not out
committing crimes. It's just common sense.''
But crime has dropped across the country -- in states that kept parole
as well as those that didn't. In fact, the decline in violent crime from
1994 to 1998 was steeper nationwide (21 percent) than in Virginia (13 percent).
Kern, the Sentencing Commission director, said there are positive
indicators that Virginia's get-tough policies are having the desired effect,
but stopped short of claiming a cause-and-effect link to falling crime.
``I can't say A caused B,'' he said.
There is ample research suggesting that a strong economy and low
unemployment rate may do more to cut crime than denying parole or sending
increasing numbers of people to jail.
``The issue of whether the drop in crime rates is largely attributable
to the sentencing reforms or some other combination of events and/or initiatives
is complex,'' the Sentencing Commission acknowledged in 1999, noting that
Virginia's booming economy and record-low unemployment rates are important
factors.
The National Criminal Justice Commission, a group that advocates
alternatives to incarceration, declared in 1996: ``Overall, high rates
of incarceration have little or no correlation to rates of crime. . . .
The best that can be said is that the enormous increase in law enforcement
caused a marginal decrease in crime. The worst that can be said is that
the expansion did nothing for crime but caused terrible collateral harm
on society by draining money and ruining lives.''
A National Academy of Sciences report in 1993 posed the issue this
way: ``What effect has increasing the prison population had on levels of
violent crime? Apparently very little.''
One study by criminologists John Irwin and James Austin found that
states that were slowest to increase their prison populations in the 1980s
were more likely to see a decrease in crime than the states that increased
imprisonment the most.
Even a scholar cited by Allen's supporters as providing philosophical
backing for Virginia's get-tough program is having second thoughts.
Princeton professor John J. DiIulio Jr., who argued for years that
increasing incarceration cuts crime, wrote last spring in The Wall Street
Journal that ``the nation has `maxed out' on the public-safety value of
incarceration.''
``Until recently, increased incarceration has improved public safety,''
he wrote. ``But as America's incarcerated population approaches 2 million,
the value of imprisonment is a portrait in the law of rapidly diminishing
returns.''
Redefining Violent Offenders:
For the get-tough program to work, Allen and his supporters say the
state had to shift its priority from nonviolent to violent lawbreakers.
And they say they are well down the road to success.
But fewer than three in 10 people locked up in Virginia prisons from
July 1997 through June 1998, the last year for which there are Department
of Corrections records, were incarcerated for violent crimes. The proportion
was exactly the same as in 1993, five years before.
Nearly one in four was imprisoned for using or selling drugs, the
1998 records showed.
``Nonviolent drug offenders are driving the increase in the prison
population,'' said Monica Pratt, a spokeswoman for Families Against Mandatory
Minimums, a Washington-based drug-law reform group.
The most recent statistical snapshot of the state prison population
from the Department of Corrections shows that the proportion serving time
for violent crimes has changed little in 15 years. It has remained at about
half the state's inmates.
``When you see a state with a high incarceration rate, what that
tells me is that that state has a greater tendency than states with lower
incarceration rates to put property and drug offenders in prison,'' said
Kern, the Sentencing Commission director.
``In our case, it's the policy for the low-level drug guy, the guy
with the small amount of crack cocaine -- that's what's going to drive
our incarceration rate.''
To some extent, Allen and his backers reframed the debate over violent
crime and criminals by redefining its terms.
The 1994 ``truth in sentencing'' law defines a long list of crimes
as ``violent,'' including such acts as murder, rape and robbery. But it
also includes offenses not traditionally considered violent, like burglary,
child pornography and computer crime.
And any prior conviction of an offense on that list, either as an
adult or as a juvenile, gets an offender classified as ``violent'' under
the 1994 law and therefore potentially subject to more prison time.
Using that definition, two-thirds of Virginians who went to prison
in fiscal year 1998 were violent, Kern said.
Defenders of the Allen program say that this statistic is more meaningful
than the Department of Corrections records.
By basing sentences on the totality of an offender's record, they
argue, the Allen program has succeeded in targeting violent criminals and
preventing them from committing more crimes.
Skeptics' Vindication is Bittersweet:
Skeptics of Allen's lock-'em-up initiatives were few. Republicans
and Democrats alike supported his program. Some did, however, protest.
In September 1994, Del. Jay W. DeBoer, D-Petersburg, one of a tiny
minority of state lawmakers who voted against Allen's parole abolition
plan, warned his colleagues on the House floor: ``This bill won't make
Virginia one bit safer. It's futile and expensive. . . . It's going to
cost taxpayers a lot of money, and I predict that, 10 years from now, the
legislature will look back and say it was a big mistake.''
In a recent interview, DeBoer said his warnings have been borne out
by the facts.
The Allen strategy, DeBoer said, was to ``create a crisis and then
solve it.''
``The crisis that George Allen had us all believe we had to solve
was a crime wave and liberal parole laws, neither of which Virginia was
necessarily known for,'' he said. ``Virginia by all statistics was and
is a low-crime state with tough laws.''
Some who supported Allen's plan, like Del. Clifton Woodrum, D-Roanoke,
are troubled by misgivings five years later. The funding of prisons and
law enforcement was a public policy choice, a spending priority that wound
up siphoning public money from other areas.
Woodrum said he voted for the Allen plan on the assurance that prison-building
would be accompanied by crime prevention programs, but he has been disappointed.
``The prevention programs, in my estimation, have not been sufficient,''
he said in an interview. ``We may end up paying a very terrible price at
some point when we do start releasing these people that we put away without
any attempt to modify or change their behavior,'' Woodrum said.
``It's ironic,'' Woodrum said. ``We're now in the position where
we have an excess of prison cells but a deficit of classroom space. We
have people being educated in trailers. I think somehow we've had our priorities
get out of whack.''
Reach Bill Sizemore at 757-446-2276 or size@pilotonline.com |