CRIME RATE DECLINES AS TACK TURNS TOUGH

TALLAHASSEE - Florida's international image in the 1980s flashed from
"sun and fun" to "gun and run."

It was a decade of tourist slayings, Liberty City riots, drug
smuggling, drive-by shootings and crack cocaine turf wars. The "Miami
Vice" image threatened not only the state's tourism industry, but its
growth potential.

"I'd meet people and tell them I was from Miami," said Rep.
Frederica Wilson, D-Miami, "They'd say, 'And you're still alive?'
"

Political polls showed Florida voters ranked crime as their top
concern. Republicans and Democrats alike took the message to heart and
their tough-on-crime election campaigns catapulted them into the
Legislature.

The state quickly moved to mandate prisoners serve 85 percent of their
sentences and toughened penalties for crimes committed with a firearm.
Since 1995, the state has built 21 prisons, enough to hold 11,000 more
inmates, bringing the total to 72,000.

The state crime rate declined, and stands today at a level not seen
since 1970.

To some, it demonstrates that state government can effectively deal
with a big crisis by spending money and pursuing a clearly defined
course.

But it remains to be seen whether the newest public safety crisis,
terrorism, can similarly be resolved.

Lock 'Em Up

"The old vision was, when they murdered the tourists at the rest
area, we let them have it by putting a sign up [at the rest area] that
said, 'No security,' " said Rep. Randy Ball, R- Mims, with a chuckle.
"We might as well have put up a sign at the border saying, 'Abandon
all hope, ye who enter here.'

"Well, God bless the Republicans and conservative Democrats. We came
in in '95 and started saying, 'We're going to throw your butts in
prison.' And that's when the crime rate started to go down."

Criminal justice experts cite other reasons: a booming economy, better
police work and a demographic drop in the number of teens most likely
to commit crimes.

But Florida Department of Corrections Secretary Michael Moore said the
main reason is locking up offenders. He worked in Texas in the 1980s,
where, as in Florida, offenders were set loose not long after they
arrived in prison.

"In the mid-1980s, a [prisoner with a] 20-year sentence did one
year," he said. "Now, most offenders do about 85 percent of their
sentence. Government can claim the credit for that."

Florida's prison-building course seemed the right answer to each new
crime wave and public outcry.

"Six years ago, it was crack cocaine. Five years ago, it was violent
crime. Four years ago, it was sexually violent offenders," said Sen.
Victor Crist, R- Tampa, a primary sponsor of "tough on crime"
legislation during the 1990s.

"This is a process where we constantly have to go back and measure
what we need to be doing," he said. "But putting the criminals away,
that was the most important part."

New Crisis: Terrorism

With prison building leveling off and crime curtailed, the state is
shifting its focus to a new public safety concern: terrorism.

The Legislature's first efforts after the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks
came fast and furious.

Port security was beefed up. Millions of dollars were spent to assure
tourists that Florida was safe to visit. The Florida Senate changed
the open-records law, allowing its members to meet in secret to
discuss antiterrorism activities.

In the legislative session that begins Tuesday, instead of crime-
fighting bills, lawmakers will consider antiterrorism legislation
overseeing coastal security, crop-dusters and flight training schools.

"We still have a lot of pervasive ignorance on terrorism. To sit on
our hands and say states can't get involved is absurd," said Thomas
Blomberg, associate dean of the School of Criminology at Florida State
University.

In addition to education and increased vigilance, states are
mobilizing National Guard troops to check security at airports and
other points of entry - a move that might wear thin.

Carnegie Mellon University Professor Alfred Blumstein predicts the
public will tire of "largely inefficient efforts to stop airplane
hijacking," such as long lines at airport security.

"We've got to get the international network working rather than
having these enormous sledgehammer [efforts] pounding on normal
people," he said.

"We tire of a movement if we don't get a [positive] reinforcement,"
Blumstein said. "We're going to slowly slip back into a more
comfortable mode."

Consequences Come Home

There also are consequences to face in the state's ongoing efforts in
the crime war.

Blumstein said lawmakers are shortsighted and don't fully understand
that the tough-on-crime spending spree has social costs yet to be addressed.

"Government operates like a one-move chess player," he said.
"Without thinking of the consequences of what might happen if they
take a pawn, they lose their bishop."

Pinellas-Pasco Public Defender Bob Dillinger points by way of example
to the Florida Department of Corrections' decision last week to
suspend drug treatment for first-time, nonviolent criminals.

This week, the department said first-time offenders will have to pay a
portion of the treatment.

"The problem is, our patients are indigent. They can't pay," said
Dillinger. "This will be very expensive in the long run. For people
who need treatment, we have a very high success rate, which means they
don't commit more crimes and they go to work and they pay taxes."

Voters sent politicians to Tallahassee based on promises to lock
prisoners up. Now, lawmakers don't want to look like they're breaking
those promises by even talking about options.

"I don't think we're in a place right now culturally where a
politician can afford to say, 'Hey, let's not put so many people in
jail,' " said John Cochran, a criminology professor at the University
of South Florida. "They can do it behind closed doors in Tallahassee,
but to campaign on such a platform is political suicide."

But Dillinger and others say lawmakers can't ignore the high cost of
maintaining a prisoner, about $23,000 annually.

"I think the expenses will soon force the realization that we need to
do alternatives [to incarceration]," Dillinger said.

"Politicians today want cost-effective measures," Blomberg said.
"California is mandating treatment for drug offenders. Florida is
just now realizing that incarceration is terribly costly."

Another byproduct of the incarceration boom is a high number of drug
offenders, most of them black, put away for long periods.

Wilson points to the hullabaloo over the revelation that Britain's
Prince Harry smoked marijuana.

"There are so many black men, and black women, in prison for petty
crimes that could have been treated," she said. "White people do the
same thing and what happens? Nothing. You let a black boy do what
[Prince Harry] did and see where he goes."

More than half, 54 percent, of Florida's prisoners are black. And
nearly 18 percent of Florida's prisoners are behind bars for drug crimes.

Government has proved it can handle some large social crises when the
public demands action.

And there may be lessons in that success for lawmakers and voters, say
some experts.

"The lesson is that it takes sustained effort, over decades, of
intense governmental action," Cochran said.

When the state tackled crime with money and tough talk, it was an easy
sell to a public scared by headlines and news reports.

Not all crises receive that kind of attention.