PICKING UP THE BILL THIS TIME

A Plan To Bring Drug Courts Here Has Real Teeth

For several years, state Representative Senfronia Thompson tried to
persuade Harris County officials to create special drug courts to oversee
intensive supervision of those convicted of using illicit substances or
abusing alcohol. Each time she tried, the Houston legislator's efforts were
rebuffed. Now, as a bill authored by the longtime Democrat sails through
the legislature, Thompson finally has the county's attention by threatening
a hefty portion of its law enforcement funding.

Last month the Texas House of Representatives passed Thompson's House Bill
1287, which would force Harris, Bexar, El Paso, Hidalgo and Tarrant
counties to create the special drug courts. The measure is now in the
Senate Criminal Justice Committee.

"It was very popular in committee," reports Patrick Johnson, Thompson's
staff counsel. He expects the measure to be approved and signed into law
without a problem. "Most of the Harris County delegation wants a drug
court, and they want to get started on it."

It is not, however, extremely popular with Harris County District Attorney
Chuck Rosenthal. Although Rosenthal is not opposed to drug courts per se,
he is opposed to the sanctions that are included in the bill for the
counties that fail to establish those special courts.

If the county does not create a drug court by September 2002, it stands to
lose a significant amount of state grants earmarked for crime-fighting. An
example of the threatened funding can be seen with the Harris County
Organized Crime and Narcotics Task Force. In the fiscal year ending May
1999, the force alone received more than $3.1 million in Department of
Justice grant money that is funneled through the governor's office. Grants
to fight juvenile crime and spousal abuse are also in potential jeopardy if
the county fails to establish drug courts.

"I'm not against them," Rosenthal says. "I'm just not sure that it's going
to make the difference that Senfronia Thompson and some other people would
like to see."

But Thompson and other supporters of the bill think drug courts do indeed
make a difference.

"It has a greater success rate and lower recidivism rate than any other
program that exists -- more than deferred adjudication, parole or
probation," says Johnson.

Unlike traditional interaction in courtrooms, drug court judges have
one-on-one relationships with every offender for the duration of the
offender's participation in the program, usually about 12 months. During
that time, the participants -- nonviolent first offenders -- are required
to be employed or in job training, and to attend a daily 12-step meeting
such as Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous.

They are also subject to almost daily drug-testing, especially in the
initial phase of their program. However, unlike programs such as deferred
adjudication, where one bad urinalysis can send a probationer to prison for
his full term, drug courts are generally more tolerant of relapses. They
are designed to eliminate the adversarial relationship between the court
and the offender.

The concept began in Miami in 1989, in an effort to reduce soaring drug
case dockets and to break the addictions of offenders.

According to the National Drug Court Institute, 550 drug courts are now in
operation across the country. In addition to producing a lower recidivism
rate, the NDCI claims that drug courts also produce a $10 savings for every
$1 spent on the court. The savings, says the NDCI, are in reduced prison costs.

Rosenthal is not convinced by the numbers touted by the drug court advocates.

"We've looked at some of these drug programs around the country, and we
really don't see a whole lot of difference between the results of these
programs and just putting offenders on deferred adjudication," says the
district attorney. "The success rates are virtually imperceptible."
Rosenthal says his people have reviewed the drug court operation in
Oakland, California. "They count it as a success if someone went through
the program and then wasn't arrested for a felony within six months," he
says. "By my standards, that's not really a success."

Thompson's bill does not provide funding for the new court. So the job of
establishing one here -- the Legislative Budget Board estimates it will
cost at least $300,000 a year -- would fall to Harris County Commissioners
Court. Precinct 3 Commissioner Steve Radack calls the idea of tying law
enforcement grant money to the creation of a drug court "legislative
blackmail."

"It sounds like a perfect bill for Governor Perry to veto," says Radack.
"It's ludicrous to think that you are going to be compelled to do something
that you don't need. And I yield to the district attorney when it comes to
deciding whether we need courts or not. Why punish the county and the
taxpayers for not creating something they don't need? Is there somebody
running around town that needs to be a judge, or what?"

Somewhat surprisingly, the president of the Texas Civil Liberties Union
tends to agree with Radack. Greg Gladden, a defense attorney who
specializes in drug cases, notes that if the court is created, it likely
will be presided over by visiting or retired judges. He adds that the idea
is similar to the so-called project courts that existed here for a few
years in the mid-1990s.

"The problem is they don't have any accountability to the electorate or
anybody, except to the judges who pay them," Gladden says. "The money they
bring in ... goes directly into the fund that funds the court. So it's just
a real bad idea."

Radack couldn't agree more.

"If [Thompson] really wants to do something," says the commissioner, "why
doesn't she bring home the bacon and get our fair share of money for things
like mental health and mental retardation? We get screwed to the wall on
that. Why penalize us?"

The bill anticipates that the counties will seek federal money to operate
the courts. "Which is kind of iffy given the sanctions that you have
against the counties if we don't come up with the funding for the program,"
Rosenthal says.

Rosenthal also points out that the court he is most familiar with, the one
in Dallas County, is basically the pet project of Judge John Creuzot, who,
in the D.A.'s opinion, is "almost evangelistic" about the concept.

"But I don't know anyone from Harris County who has come forward and
indicated the same vitality," Rosenthal says. "I think it really has to do
with the vigor of the judge to set the vigor of the program. But I'm not
averse to trying anything."

But just not with a legislative gun to his head.