If We Want Safer Communities Tomorrow, We Must Pay Attention to What Happens in Prison Today

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Before we can change laws, we must first change minds.

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When most of us think about prisons, we think about places separated from society.

Walls. Fences. Guard towers. Locked doors.

Someone commits a serious crime, is convicted, and is removed from the community.

For a period of time, that person is somewhere else.

But there is a problem with thinking about prisons this way.

Most incarcerated people eventually come home.

They return to neighborhoods.

They return to families.

They apply for jobs. They shop in our stores. They attend churches. They become our coworkers and our neighbors.

And whatever happened to them during the years they were incarcerated does not magically disappear when the prison gate opens.

It comes home with them.

That simple reality should fundamentally change the way we think about corrections.

If incarceration produces greater stability, discipline, responsibility, education, and self-control, those qualities return to our communities.

But if incarceration produces greater anger, resentment, deterioration, idleness, untreated addiction, and hopelessness, those things can return as well.

The correctional environment is not neutral.

It shapes people.

Rehabilitation Is a Public-Safety Strategy

Sometimes rehabilitation is portrayed as being soft on crime.

It is not.

Rehabilitation is strategy.

Holding someone accountable for wrongdoing and preparing that person to live responsibly are not opposing goals.

We can do both.

In fact, if an incarcerated person will eventually be released, failing to prepare that individual for release makes very little sense from the standpoint of public safety.

Consider what happens when someone leaves prison without marketable skills, emotional regulation, substance-abuse recovery, mental-health support, family stability, or a realistic reentry plan.

Where does that person go?

How do they earn a living?

How do they respond to frustration?

How do they deal with the same temptations, addictions, relationships, and circumstances that may have contributed to their previous behavior?

Simply serving time does not answer those questions.

Time served is not the same thing as transformation.

 

The Real Cost of Recidivism

We often discuss recidivism as a percentage.

But recidivism is much more than a statistic.

When someone commits another crime, there may be:

Another victim.

Another police investigation.

Another prosecution.

Another court proceeding.

Another sentence.

Another incarceration.

Another family disrupted.

And another enormous financial cost to society.

Reducing repeat crime should therefore be one of the central measurements of whether a correctional system is succeeding.

The purpose of reform is not to excuse the original wrongdoing.

The purpose is to reduce the likelihood that it happens again.

What Should Happen Inside?

If we know that most incarcerated people will eventually return to society, then incarceration should include opportunities for measurable change.

That means addressing the problems that contribute to criminal behavior.

Mental-health treatment where needed.

Substance-abuse recovery.

Emotional-regulation and decision-making skills.

Education.

Vocational training and certification.

Personal responsibility.

Family reconciliation where appropriate.

And structured planning for employment, housing, and successful reentry.

None of this removes accountability.

It strengthens accountability by requiring something more meaningful than simply surviving a certain number of years behind a wall.

A successful correctional system should be able to ask:

Is this person better prepared to live responsibly today than when they entered?

If the answer is no, we should ask why.

Prisons Are Part of Our Communities

Prisons do not exist apart from society.

They are part of society’s system of justice.

What happens behind prison walls eventually affects what happens outside those walls.

That means prison reform is not simply about improving conditions for incarcerated people.

It is about protecting future victims.

It is about strengthening families.

It is about reducing crime.

It is about spending public resources more effectively.

And ultimately, it is about creating safer communities.

We should hold people accountable for the harm they cause.

We should separate dangerous people from society when necessary.

But when people can change—and when they will eventually return to our communities—we have every reason to help make that change possible.

Because the person who enters prison today may someday become our neighbor.

The question is:

Who do we want coming home?

Someone more stable than when they entered?

Or someone more damaged?

That choice affects all of us.

If we want safer neighborhoods tomorrow, we must build correctional systems today that produce stability rather than deterioration.

What happens in prison does not stay in prison.

It comes home.

Before we can change laws, we must first change minds.

ONE NATION ONE JUSTICE 

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Episode: Justice Should Not Depend on Geography

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Before we can change laws, we must first change minds.

Every American has heard the expression:

Justice is blind.

We understand what that is supposed to mean.

Justice should not care whether you are rich or poor.
It should not care who your family is.
It should not care about your social position or political influence.

The law should look at the facts, apply a fair standard, and treat people equally.

But there is another factor that can dramatically affect justice in America—one that we don’t talk about nearly enough.

Geography.

Where an offense takes place can have a tremendous effect on what happens afterward.

Two people can commit very similar crimes under very similar circumstances, yet because they live in different states—or sometimes even different counties—the consequences can be dramatically different.

One may face a relatively short sentence.

The other may face decades.

One may enter a correctional system offering education, treatment, vocational training, and meaningful opportunities for rehabilitation.

The other may enter a system offering very little beyond confinement.

Investigative procedures can differ.

Charging practices can differ.

Sentencing ranges can differ.

Conditions of confinement can differ.

And eventually we have to ask a very simple question:

If we are one nation, why should justice change so dramatically when we cross a state line?

Now, equal justice does not mean identical outcomes.

Every case is different.

The facts are different. The circumstances are different. The people involved are different.

Judges need discretion because human beings and human circumstances cannot be reduced to a mathematical formula.

But discretion and inconsistency are not the same thing.

There must be boundaries.

There must be standards.

There must be a point at which we can say that wherever an American lives, certain fundamental principles of justice will remain the same.

Think about what happens when those standards vary too widely.

If sentencing varies dramatically, people begin questioning whether punishment is based upon the offense or upon geography.

If investigative standards vary, people begin questioning whether guilt is being established with the same degree of care everywhere.

If rehabilitation is available in one state but virtually nonexistent in another, we have to ask whether we are really operating under the same philosophy of corrections.

And if conditions of confinement vary enormously, then the actual consequences of an identical sentence can become very different.

A ten-year sentence is not necessarily the same ten-year sentence everywhere.

That matters.

And it matters not only to the person convicted of a crime.

It matters to all of us.

Because eventually, hundreds of thousands of incarcerated men and women return to our communities.

The question is not simply:

How did we punish them?

The more important question is:

Who are we sending home?

Are we returning someone who has been given an opportunity to change?

Someone who has received education?

Someone who has developed job skills?

Someone who has learned responsibility and self-discipline?

Someone better prepared to become a productive neighbor?

Or are we simply returning someone who spent years surviving incarceration?

That is not merely a prison question.

That is a public-safety question.

And this brings us to one of the central arguments of One Nation One Justice.

America needs national baseline standards for justice.

That does not mean Washington must make every decision in every courtroom.

It does not mean eliminating judges.

It does not mean every person convicted of the same offense automatically receives the exact same sentence.

And it certainly does not mean becoming soft on crime.

It means establishing a common foundation.

National standards for fair investigations.

National boundaries for proportional sentencing.

National expectations for humane conditions of confinement.

National standards for education, treatment, rehabilitation, and preparation for release.

States can still administer justice.

Courts can still examine individual circumstances.

Judges can still exercise reasonable discretion.

But the foundation should not disappear when someone crosses a state line.

Consider this another way.

The Constitution protects Americans regardless of where they live.

Our fundamental rights do not stop at the Oklahoma border, the Texas border, the California border, or the New York border.

So why should the basic standards surrounding the loss of liberty vary so dramatically?

If government has the authority to take away a person’s liberty, that authority carries an enormous responsibility.

We must know that the investigation was honest.

We must know that evidence was handled properly.

We must know that guilt was established fairly.

We must know that the consequence is proportional to the offense.

And when incarceration is necessary, we must know that confinement protects society while providing every reasonable opportunity for change.

That isn’t weakness.

That is responsible justice.

There are people who must be separated from society.

There are violent and dangerous individuals from whom society must be protected.

Justice must never abandon that responsibility.

But protecting society and restoring people who can be restored are not opposing ideas.

They are two parts of the same responsibility.

And neither should depend upon geography.

This isn’t an argument for lighter justice.

It isn’t an argument for harsher justice.

It is an argument for consistent justice.

Justice that is measurable.

Justice that is proportional.

Justice that is transparent.

Justice that Americans can understand and trust.

Because when similar conduct produces wildly different consequences simply because it happened somewhere else, confidence in the entire system begins to weaken.

And once people stop believing that the system is fair, the authority of that system suffers as well.

We can do better.

We can protect society.

We can hold people accountable.

We can recognize that some individuals must remain incarcerated.

We can restore those who can be restored.

And we can establish standards that apply to Americans everywhere.

Consistency is not leniency.

Consistency is not severity.

Consistency is credibility.

We call ourselves the United States of America.

Fifty states.

One nation.

And when it comes to something as fundamental as justice, perhaps it is time we begin acting like one.

Justice should not depend on geography.

Justice should depend on law.

This is One Nation One Justice.

Before we can change laws, we must first change minds.