LANSING -- The temptation to ease Michigan's budget crisis by
releasing prison inmates is rising, and state policymakers must decide
whether that can be done without compromising public safety.
The potential savings are compelling. About one-third of all state
prison inmates, or 16,000 to 17,000, are parole-eligible but still
locked up at a cost of about $29,000 each per year.
At present, roughly half of those inmates aren't considered good
parole risks by prison officials because of the nature of their crimes
or their behavior in prison.
In other states suffering budget deficits, prison reform is
increasingly being given a serious look.
While hard-liners argue the savings would come at the expense of safe
streets, advocates of more liberalized parole policies are making the
case that releasing just a fraction of the parole-eligible prisoners
could cut tens of millions of dollars from prison spending.
Michigan's tough-on-crime years under John Engler resulted in a
strict parole board that kept most inmates behind bars for months and
years beyond their minimum sentences.
During those years, the state's prison budget grew into one of the
largest single categories of spending, and now looms as one of the few
not to have suffered severe cutbacks to resolve the state's $900 million
budget deficit.
But change already is in the wind. The prison population's growth
slowed this year for the first time in more than a decade.
That's partly because the rate of violent crime has gone down, but
also because the state decided to detour most low-level nonviolent
offenders to county jails and probation programs.
And Gov. Jennifer Granholm has a chance to cut the inmate population
with appointments that could make the parole board more receptive to
releasing prisoners who have served minimum sentences.
"The more you release, the more you save," said Barbara Levine,
executive director of a Lansing organization called Citizens Alliance on
Prisons and Public Spending. "And it doesn't require commutations or
changes in the law. All of these people are in the parole board's
jurisdiction."
Her Lansing group this week will release a report analyzing the
inmate population and advocating a departure from harsh policies that
filled cells and continued Michigan's prison build-up during the 1990s.
Anti-crime efforts included a 1992 reorganization of the state parole
board into one with a reputation as being among the nation's toughest.
"The prison population was ratcheted-up administratively (while
Engler was governor) and it can be ratcheted back down
administratively," Levine said.
There's a pool of relatively low-risk offenders who safely could be
released to save money as Michigan and states across the nation deal
with the biggest budget shortfall in 50 years, she and others maintain.
Prison spending rises
Here and elsewhere, health, education and welfare programs are being
axed while spending on prisons is expected to rise 1.1 percent and
consume 14 cents out of every dollar spent out of state general funds in
the current budget year, according to the National Council of State
Legislatures.
Facing that reality, governors and lawmakers are rethinking
sentencing and parole policies in most states. Corrections directors in
Michigan and some other states already have decided not to continue
sending back to prison most parolees who fail to follow rules but
haven't committed any new crimes.
In addition, Oklahoma's outgoing governor last year commuted more
than 1,000 sentences for nonviolent crimes, saving $1.5 million in
prison costs.
Texas cut its prison population by more than 7,600 -- following years
of spiraling growth -- just 15 months after instituting parole reforms
in September 2000.
Ohio revised sentencing and parole guidelines in a way that reduced
the prison population by 3,400 since 1998, saving an estimated $40
million.
But corrections department spokesman Russ Marlan said the savings
might not be that great from changed parole policies in Michigan,
considering which of the parole-eligible prisoners have a realistic
chance of getting out.
The parole rate for sex offenders, as an example, dropped from around
40 percent a little over a decade ago to 10 percent now, Marlan said,
because of a public outcry and the feeling "they're a dangerous group of
offenders with a high recidivism rate."
Marlan said about half of the prisoners detained beyond their minimum
sentences aren't good candidates for parole because they're sex
offenders, committed violent crimes or have caused problems during
incarceration that prompted prison officials to house them in
higher-security cells. Another quarter of the list is prisoners sent
back for parole violations, he added.
Early parole rebuked
Republican state Rep. William Van Regenmorter, chief author of
Michigan's 1998 Truth-in-Sentencing law requiring every prisoner to
serve at least his or her minimum sentence, doubts it would be a good
idea to save money by relaxing stringent parole practices.
"Reviewing these kinds of things is OK, but we should remember that a
key part of the parole process is determining if the release of a
prisoner would compromise public safety," said Van Regenmorter,
R-Hudsonville.
He said lawmakers passed the Truth-in-Sentencing law and developed a
comprehensive set of new sentencing guidelines five years ago in order
to reserve state cells for the most serious criminals -- and keep those
committing lesser crimes out of prison.
"It's very fair to say the prison population represents more violent
crime than it once did," he said. "I think the public, in possession of
all the facts, would be very supportive of what the parole board is
doing."
The parole board, since being reorganized and expanded by Engler, has
reduced the parole rate dramatically. About two-thirds of all state
prisoners used to be released as soon as they became eligible for
parole. Now that's true for fewer than half of them.
New members' influence
Granholm and her appointee as state corrections director, Patricia
Caruso, could change that equation with their appointees to the
10-member parole board, whose members serve four-year terms expiring at
staggered intervals.
They follow broad guidelines but have substantial personal discretion
over who gets paroled and who doesn't.
Caruso last month named her first three new appointees: Benton Harbor
clergyman James Atterberry, Upper Peninsula prison camp supervisor James
Quinlan and Wayne County family and children's services director Barbara
Sampson.
Atterberry, a 49-year-old father of three who serves on the Berrien
County Commission, said it's his impression the governor is looking for
new parole board members with a more balanced view.
"I'm an advocate of being tough on crime, especially for people who
commit violent crimes, but I also believe we've got a lot of cases where
people are in prison who are not violent, not a threat to society and
have served ample time," he said.
Spokeswoman Liz Boyd said the Granholm administration isn't planning
dramatic changes from the Engler-imposed parole policies but wants to
improve all practices and procedures involving paroles and the release
of prisoners.
Overhaul in the works
The state, with help from the National Governors Association and
National Institute of Corrections, is beginning a four-year effort to
develop a program to better prepare prisoners for their eventual return
to society.
That would include help with education, parenting and job skills and
health care coverage.
Of the 10,682 prisoners paroled in 2002, about 3,300 came back to
prison on parole violations, prison officials say. Reducing such numbers
in the future would decrease the need for prison beds.
The payoff from that effort, however, will be years away while a
change in parole policies could provide both immediate and longer-term
savings.
The list of those who conceivably could be paroled, besides the 3,300
inmates sent back on parole violations, contains just under 1,000 who've
been granted parole but on specified dates four months or more in the
future and more than 11,000 who were denied parole when they first
became eligible.
Some could be freed
Advocate Levine argues the state could safely release many of the
more than 800 prisoners who've now served an average of 22 years each on
"parolable" life sentences.
Unlike first-degree murderers given life terms without parole, they
are sentenced to life "or any other term" for such crimes as armed
robbery, second-degree murder or rape.
Her organization cites as an example Kenneth White, a Detroiter who's
been imprisoned since 1985 after pleading guilty to second-degree murder
in a plea bargain on which he expected to serve 15 years.
In 1984, then-17-year-old White and another boy were involved in the
shooting death of a third youth after a fight near Kettering High
School.
Now 36 and at Ryan Correctional Facility in Detroit, White has earned
a high school diploma, has a clean prison record and is described by
defense lawyer Paul Louisell as nonthreatening. "He's a slightly-built
man, very soft-spoken," Louisell said.
Not a violent person
Among those also hoping for a more sympathetic parole board are
Detroiters William and Minnie Tate, whose son Bertron Pearce is back
behind bars after his parole was revoked last year.
Pearce, 40, was sentenced in 1991 to serve one to 15 years on an
unarmed robbery charge in 1991 and in 1993 to serve the same term for
two counts of uttering and publishing false documents.
William Tate said his stepson, out about a year, was sent back to
prison after he stopped reporting to his parole officer, moved out of
state and got into a scrape involving a woman with whom he had a
relationship.
The parents, who are caring for Pearce's five children while he's in
prison, said he's not a violent person. He graduated from high school at
age 16, attended Wayne State University for a while, was a church member
and once coached youth football teams, they said.
The state could save money, William Tate argues, by putting
nonviolent prisoners like Pearce in supervised community programs where
they'd have the direct, emotional support of their families.
"He took computer classes, drug abuse classes and he's trying to
learn to be a good father," Tate said. "Why would they want to lock up
someone who's only guilty of a parole violation?
You can reach Gary Heinlein at (517) 371-3660 or gheinlein@detnews.com