Restorative Justice: How We Can Use Prison to Improve the Country

With about 2.3 million languishing in prison, the US makes up about a quarter of the world’s prison population. It isn’t as if we can claim that it makes us safer to imprison so many, either. We suffer from a worse homicide rate than Sudan; every other rich country has but a tiny fraction of our homicide rates. Lengthening average sentences has sent our population skyrocketing from 100,000 in the 70s to more than 20 times that now. Meanwhile, the abhorrent conditions inside prisons have done terrible damage to institutional trust and lead to a recidivism rate of nearly 40% within 2 years. A broad overhaul could improve the lives of both criminals and everyone else while saving us money.

Lengthy prison sentences are, after all, expensive. Tough on crime rhetoric has been followed by lengthening average sentences for all manner of crimes. Just as an example, the US sentences those convicted of robbery to prison 2.5 times as long as the UK, a country similar in culture, and 4 times as long for assault. We also rely on incarceration much more heavily than other countries; 70% of crimes result in imprisonment here while only 33% do in Canada and in other OECD countries fines are used a majority of the time. All of this costs enormous amounts of money and causes years of lost productivity for millions of Americans. For many, it closes the door on any chance for becoming a contributing member of society.

The arguments in favor of longer prison sentences are that they prevent people from committing crimes in the first place, they prevent people from committing new crimes when they finally get out, and they keep dangerous people off the streets. Long sentences as a method of crime prevention have so clearly not been borne out in the data as to not be worthy of a deeper discussion; there is absolutely no evidence that they are effective deterrents and there are heaps of it showing it to be useless. Additionally, above-average recidivism rates in the US proves conclusively that the method is worthless at preventing new crimes from those convicted of prior crimes. Keeping dangerous people from returning to society as long as possible is a bit more complicated; the odds that someone getting out of prison will be a good neighbor drop as the sentence length increases, but it does remove the possibility of them committing any crimes.

Addressing that specific point, we can take Norway as an example. Two-year recidivism rates are lower there than anywhere else in the world, but they were not always that way. In the 1980s, their recidivism rates were similar to those of the US, but over time they have been able to reduce that rate to 20% over 2 years and 25% over 5 years. The concept is simple: by treating people well and helping them become better versions of themselves, Norway turns criminals into good neighbors. They provide educational and wellness programs for prisoners and they allow them some freedom of choice. Even the high-security prisons are more open buildings that are meant to feel less oppressive. By improving the emotional states of prisoners, they are able to reduce violent incidents between the prisoners and incidents that require intervention by the guards. The cost, unsurprisingly, is significantly higher than that of American prisons (or those of most other countries, for that matter). Norway spends more than twice as much prisoner per year, but the cost of those prisons is proportionally much lower because of lower rates of incarceration, shorter sentences, and, tellingly, much lower rates of recidivism.

I am not suggesting an immediate conversion of all prisons to the exact same programs as Norway, but there is space between our model and theirs to experiment. If investing a little bit more money into our prisoners can radically reduce the recidivism rates, we can save money while improving trust in the system and the lives of millions of our citizens. Humaneness is not the only reason to do this. We face shortages of skilled workers, particularly those in trades. If, after we have convinced a prisoner to buy in, we educate them in a trade or allow them to train under an employer, they will provide vital services when they get out. The obvious statement is that employed people commit crimes at a fraction of the rates of those who are not. A recent Norwegian study found that prisoners who found jobs within 2 years of being released had recidivism rates of less than a quarter of those that did not.

Skills-building does not have to be prohibitively expensive. Online coursework has become increasingly common and we can enroll prisoners in those owned by public universities. The cost of such a program will be minimal while the benefits will include a safer and more prosperous society. The most expensive part will likely be that of mental health professionals, but there will be savings in reduced violent incidents in prisons. Increasing freedom of choice worked for Norway as a method for increasing responsibility, so perhaps we could also experiment with increasing openness in prisons as capital projects.

Meanwhile, modest changes to the incentive structure of our private prisons could potentially provide for massive benefits. Long-time readers will recall that when Great Britain was shipping prisoners to Australia, changing the payment structure so that transport companies were paid based on healthy arrivals rather than departing prisoners, the survival rate went from approximately 50% to over 90%. By the same token, we could pay private prison companies a bonus if a released prisoner does not commit a crime after 1 year, 2 years, and more. The profit motive will surely induce human ingenuity to work at a solution. Instead of overcrowding and horrid conditions, we might see the companies provide for the personal growth of their charges.

As an added benefit, we are creating trust in our institutions among a group that has close to none. For some communities, law enforcement is the only exposure they have to American institutions. If we want them to work within the system to improve their lives and, by extension, our society, the first step is going to be building up trust. If they see that, even if they make a mistake, we are going to help them lift themselves up, they will be much more willing to believe that the institutions we rely on are there for everyone’s benefit. If poverty-stricken people do better, we all do better, because we have to live together whether they are prosperous or destitute.

Criminals and people who live outside of our mainstream society are often cynical or broken in some way. If we can heal the damage or implant more optimism in them, we can restore them to our system. They can become contributing taxpayers instead of marginalized or violent outsiders. I would certainly prefer a neighbor who was rehabilitated than one who has had to survive the horror show that is our current prison system. Wouldn’t you?