Progress. While the word itself, with no other context, tends to conjure up notions about positive things—medical breakthroughs, technological innovations, human rights advances, things generally getting better—it isn’t always so. Cancer progresses. There is nothing positive about that.But for better or worse, most things do change. That’s progress.
The criminal justice system is one area that has experienced tremendous progress over the centuries. Most of that progress has been in a positive direction.
Most of it.
I recently became aware of a situation within the justice system that left me wondering if that progress was always an advancement or improvement. Is new always improved? I think it’s worth exploring.
Back in the old days, if you can believe what you see in the black and white movies, prisoners were often forced to work outside the confines of prison walls as part of their sentences. Those convicted of dastardly deeds were punished with sentences such as 20 years of hard labor. Most of those hard-labor jobs were at a location other than the prison itself. Inmates would need to be transported to the work site, such as a stone quarry, and to prevent escapes, they usually wore some form of physical restraints.
Countless innovations through the centuries have resulted in an amazing variety of devices and procedures, all with a single purpose: restraining our fellow man.
Perhaps among the first methods of human restraint was simply binding wrists with reeds, vines or leather. Then came twine or rope. Centuries passed, and when metals became available, stronger and more elaborate devices were invented. Chains were invented over two millennia ago, and early versions of the now-familiar handcuffs have been around since the mid-19th century.
In the 21st century we seem to be reverting to a high-tech version of the original vines, in the form of nylon zip-ties. Progress.
Hand restraints are great, but it’s nearly impossible to work with one’s hands bound together. And if the prisoner is not attached to something that is stationary, they don’t prevent escapes. Another method was needed to allow prisoners to use their hands to work, but still prevent them from escaping.
To solve the problem, at least two methods of restraint became common in the last couple centuries. The infamous chain gang was one solution. In a chain gang, several workers would be chained together by their legs to make movement cumbersome. Imagine a sack race with ten people instead of the normal two. An escape attempt would probably be hilarious.Another method used a heavy iron ball at the end of a short chain that was attached to one or both legs of a prisoner. The aptly-named ball and chain dates back at least to the 17th century. Forced laborers fitted with these could still move about relatively freely to do their jobs, constrained only by the length of the chain and their ability or motivation to drag the heavy ball. But again, any attempts to escape would be slow and clumsy. The ball and chain was very effective.
In both examples, the workers’ hands were free so they could work. And of course, their supervisors were armed, just in case.
Those innovations were necessary because, in those glorious days-gone-by, dangerous criminals were forced to do hard manual labor. They could stand fairly stationary at the quarry, sledge-hammering big rocks into smaller rocks. Those bad guys are no longer allowed out of prison and forced to work.
Also, making gravel has been automated. It had to be because hard manual labor was outlawed. Apparently, it’s cruel to make a murderer work for a living. Isn’t rehabilitation supposed to be part of the deal? Progress.
Now we are well into the 21st century. In my state, and probably most others, there is a program in the justice system where people who are found guilty of low-level offenses can be sentenced to several hours of community service as part of their rehabilitation and restitution.
In this system, a shoplifter has to work, while an armed robber gets to sit and watch TV. There is a built-in incentive to aspire to higher crimes.
Among the service options available to the courts for these scofflaws is an assignment to a highway litter cleanup crew.
You’ll see the men and women in these litter crews along roads and highways, all wearing their bright orange and yellow vests, displaying very little enthusiasm or motivation. Their presence is normally announced by a portable sign placed along the roadside proclaiming, “Litter Patrol Ahead.” You are warned of their presence because, in their pursuit of rare scraps of litter, they may aimlessly wander onto the road.
Although you have the right-of-way, it is best to take heed, because orange-vested roadkill is never fashionable. But the worst part is, if you mow one down this week, you’ll be taking his place next week. Workers live, and workers die. Litter is forever.
I came across just such a litter collection crew the other day on my way to work. There were about a dozen of them, totally unrestrained, and slowly moving around in a rather tight little group. They all had big bags to carry the trash they gathered. Those bags appeared empty; perhaps they had just started.
Each of them also carried a pair of tongs that were long enough that they didn’t need to bend over to pick up trash. We wouldn’t want them to work too hard. Manual labor. Outlawed.
In that small area, there was nowhere near enough trash to keep 12 workers busy collecting, even if they kept moving along the road at a steady pace. They were just milling around on the side of the road, already bored at 7:30 in the morning.
About 20 feet down the road from that group of bored, hardened criminals was another guy, wearing the same orange and yellow vest. He was leaning up against the van that was apparently used to transport the work detail. He was yawning, and with his tattered felt hat and long, gray beard he looked for all the world like a grizzled old gold prospector from the 1850s. This was the van’s driver. He was also the one responsible for guarding this group of rehabilitees.
That old guy was more of an attendant than a guard. He seemed even less motivated than the crew, apparently just killing time until lunch.
I can understand why the attendant wanted to keep these desperados in such a tight group: he needed to keep an eye on all of them. You wouldn’t want one of those guys wandering from view and slipping away! The attendant seemed too lethargic to even raise his voice at the crew, let alone chase one down. He might just as well have dropped the crew off at the work site and returned at 4:30 to pick them up, at least the ones who hadn’t escaped by then.
Or better yet, he could just retire and give the keys to work crew.
Since the workers were not restrained, a tight little group makes them easier to watch, but it also has disadvantages. The obvious problem is that they are doing very little work, collecting very little, if any, litter. A bored criminal mentality is a dangerous thing. With all that time doing nothing, and being so close together, those 12 thugs could easily conspire to overpower the attendant, steal the van and escape. By the next morning they could all be in Mexico sipping margaritas.
It wouldn’t be hard for them to escape. The attendant is not carrying a shotgun. His hands are in his pockets, and he is barely awake. With no physical restraints, all they have to do is walk away.
The situation I witnessed is certainly not the best way to manage that crew. I don’t know if it is managed similarly in all jurisdictions, but where I live, the operation is terribly inefficient. If community service was the intent, it failed. If making the crew work was the intent, it also failed. From the time that van left the shop, until the time it returned, no one was served. It is not at all productive. At best it was busywork, and the workers were not busy.
If I had been running that program, I would have made some changes. First, in areas of light litter, I would use smaller crews. They would be easier to manage, and the workers might do some real work. There is no point having such a large work force when there is only enough work for three or four people. The supervisor of this crew was being paid handsomely to babysit.
There are a few roads in the region that are commonly more heavily littered, and they could possibly warrant a larger crew. In those areas, I would use more workers, but I would have them spread out. They are not going to conspire against me if they are separated and can’t talk to each other. They are also going to be busy, as there is plenty of trash that needs to be collected.
I may not be able to keep a constant eye on everyone at once, but what is the worst that could happen?
One prisoner slips away into a blackberry thicket. Remember, these guys aren’t violent offenders, they are scofflaws. The escapee would soon be back to his regular job at an intersection, trying to relieve motorists of their spare change.
Another prisoner drifts off and blends in with a highway construction crew that happened to be ‘working’ in the same area. With all those orange vests, you couldn’t tell them apart. He simply stood there with them, arms folded, just looking at the job. There had been five construction workers. Now there are six.
There was enough work for only one of them anyway, and they were apparently deciding which one of them would do the work while the others supervised. My prisoner may have stumbled into a new career! That can’t be bad. In fact, I’d call that rehabilitation.
Two of my charges got away, so I got back to the shop with 10 of the 12. That’s well over an 80% return rate. Many government workers don’t perform anywhere near that well. And my group picked up more trash than the old prospector’s crew.
One of my escapees went right back to his regular job, and the other got a better job and was fully rehabilitated that same day! I think I did pretty well, considering it was my first day.
That is just one alternate scenario. There are likely many ways to handle this situation that are better than what I witnessed. The program needs improvement, and with a large enough government grant, I could do a study and come up with several viable alternatives.
Yes, I could spend the grant money. I could do the study. But we don’t need another time-consuming, expensive study. We solved this problem centuries ago. Whatever happened to the old ball and chain?
In the good old days, there was no yawning attendant. There would have been a real guard. That guard would have been armed with a shotgun to quell any insurgence and discourage escape attempts. And to hinder the inevitable escape conspiracies, no talking was permitted among the workers.
Why was that old tried-and-true method abandoned? Was it too harsh? Did it make the worker feel like he was being punished? He was being punished!
It’s quite possible that the Civil Liberties Union has simply gotten too much bite.
If it’s worth the risk to commit a crime, then the penalty is probably not severe enough. If after serving the prescribed sentence the offender repeats the crime, the initial sentence was not harsh enough. A proper punishment should prevent repeat offenders, and strongly discourage others from committing the crime.
As litter crews typically consist of low-level, non-violent offenders, armed guards are probably not appropriate or necessary. But the scofflaws are being punished for breaking the law, and whether community service is intended to be punishment, or just help them repay society, they should be required to work, and work hard at something that is productive. The crew I witnessed was not productive. There was no punishment. There was no restitution.
If the best we can do is busywork, we might as well just keep them in jail.
Or better yet, put them in stocks in the middle of the village square, accompanied by a sign detailing their transgressions. A little public humiliation is a much better deterrent than being forced to join a lazy litter crew.
That would be progress.
Scott Wright ©2017