Outbreaks of coronavirus in jails and prisons are turning lethal for the accused and sheriff’s deputies alike. The situation is another fatality of mass incarceration, a system of injustice that led us to cram thousands of non-violent offenders into cages.
For better or worse, this dynamic will define the arc of criminal justice reform. But how did we get here? For decades police and prosecutors pledging to be “tough on crime” locked up the mentally ill, the addicted and the homeless, somehow expecting a jail cell to cure society’s most vexing social and public health dilemmas.
But 95 percent of people prosecutors send to prison return to our communities, dooming the tough-on-crime approach to fail: the mentally ill, the addicted and the homeless not only return to our communities, they do so with the scarlet letter of a conviction, trapping them in a paper prison that keeps them unemployable and largely ineligible for housing.
With thousands returning to our streets every year with felony convictions for crimes associated with poverty or addiction, is it a surprise that Los Angeles — the largest incarcerator in America — has become ground zero for homelessness?
Incidentally, L.A.’s Homeless Services Authority director recently told The New York Times, “There is probably no more single significant factor than incarceration in terms of elevating somebody’s prospects of homelessness.”
Tough on crime makes for great headlines, but it hasn’t made us safer. Just ask the Los Angeles County district attorney, who sends more people to prison per capita than 70 percent of California’s prosecutors, while presiding over an increase in violent crime of nearly 30 percent in the county, and 55 percent in the city of Los Angeles.
Mass incarceration has diminishing returns for public safety, meaning we can reduce crime and incarceration. I know this because I’ve done it: As San Francisco’s district attorney, I sent a quarter the number of people per capita that L.A.’s district attorney sends to prison, and by contrast, during my two terms in office violent crime went down.
The pandemic, and L.A.’s response, illustrates this dynamic and the side-effects of over-incarceration. In response to the threat posed by the coronavirus in jails and prisons — fertile grounds for the spread of the disease — over 5,000 people were released from L.A. jails on offenses deemed non-serious and non-violent.
Crime continues to be down in spite of the releases, and a Los Angeles Times analysis found individuals released and rearrested are just 5 percent of all misdemeanor and felony arrests, and only 1 percent above the release and re-arrest rates previously experienced under the tough on crime policies of mass incarceration.
I remain optimistic that crime will continue to drop if we make adequate investments in re-entry services, but the release of nearly a third of L.A.’s jail population begs the question: What calculus led so many to be incarcerated on low-level offenses to begin with? There’s no calculus, as there’s no reliance on data or science underpinning the incarceration of this many low-level offenders.
For too long, police and prosecutors relied on the false premise that punishment somehow deters mental illness, homelessness or addiction, and social and health conditions present among a disproportionate number of those incarcerated and recently released. You can’t cure cancer with a hammer, just like you can’t treat mental illness or addiction with a concrete box, but a jail cell can make these conditions worse by furthering a vicious cycle of unemployment and homelessness.
Sitting District Attorney Jackie Lacey calls herself “a reasonable reformer,” but there’s staggering evidence that she prioritizes punishment over results, such as her longtime opposition to a highly successful misdemeanor-diversion program for low-level offenders. That program successfully diverted 5,600 people with a success rate over 95 percent, and it demonstrated lower rates of re-offense.
It cost taxpayers nothing, and reduced the burden on the courts and the D.A.’s Office, with misdemeanor trials plummeting 72 percent annually, from 3,193 to 869, which enables prosecutors to devote more resources to prosecuting violent crime. Efforts are underway by the state Legislature to take this program statewide.
Lacey opposed the program in 2013, 2014 and again in 2018. This program, and many others opposed by this D.A., aren’t just reasonable, they’re effective, as they enable low-level offenders to avoid lifelong collateral consequences associated with a criminal conviction. That, in turn, increases the likelihood that they’ll become productive members of our community and won’t end up homeless.
Jail and prison commitments are appropriate for those who pose a threat to the rest of us. For those that do not, the jury is in; the tough-on-crime approach did not make us safer, but it did make us the world’s largest incarcerator while contributing to epidemic levels of homelessness.
I returned to my home in Los Angeles to be with my family, but I entered this race because I refuse to end my 40-year career in law enforcement in ignorance of the severity of the situation in my hometown. I want to help drive the changes that will simultaneously enhance our safety, quality of life and equity, and I’ve done it before.
Over the next six months I look forward to sharing my vision and my plans to implement a modern system of justice, one that leans on data and science to enhance safety, equality and the livability of Los Angeles.
George Gascón is the former district attorney for the city and county of San Francisco, a former assistant chief of the Los Angeles Police Department and is a candidate for Los Angeles district attorney.
