SYSTEM CONTINUES TO DEFY LOGIC

I had the good fortune this past week to be invited on a panel,
alongside Chief Justice Hugh Stansfield, to discuss issues around the
sentencing of property offenders. The event was organized by the CBC
and held at the Abbotsford campus of the University College of the
Fraser Valley.

As is often the case in these types of events, it was the audience,
not the panelists, which provided the real insight. People told
stories of having their houses and cars broken into time and time
again. They sensed the justice system really had no intention of
taking their victimization seriously. And in those cases where the
perpetrator was caught, the courts sent him back to the streets in a
heartbeat to continue racking up victims.

Their stories were no different than those you read about in every
community newspaper and hear about everyday. People forfeiting a good
night's sleep so they could be on watch to defend their home and
property in the wee hours. People left traumatized by repeat
victimization only to watch a crowd of criminal justice professionals
and experts huddle about to discuss what they can do for the poor
offender. The frustration and sense of betrayal is deafening.

But of all the blatant failures in our current justice system, none
seem to be more illogical than the manner in which we deal with
prolific, chronic offenders. The conventional wisdom is that the
severity of an offender's sentence increases in proportion to the
number of times someone has been convicted. That would make sense--the
more crime, the more time.

But it doesn't work that way. In fact, the evidence shows that
penalties tend to become lighter as one racks up convictions. The
explanation is that sending this person to jail didn't work because
they're still committing crimes, so let's try something different this
time.

No doubt judges and others are sincere in trying to find solutions
that may be more effective in the long run than incarceration. But
this defies everything we know about basic human psychology. It sends
a message that after a while we will accept an offender's repeated
criminality and won't respond with anything that would inconvenience
him.

And it's this normalization and tolerance for repeat offenders that is
most troubling. In every jurisdiction there is a small number of
offenders, usually addicts, who commit hundreds and even thousands of
offences. Of course we must expand drug treatment facilities to deal
with the problem. But by taking these people out of circulation, which
isn't difficult because the police and prosecutors know exactly who
they are, crime would drop dramatically overnight. Law-abiding
citizens are entitled to this.

Mercifully, this is starting to happen in a few jurisdictions. Police
are working with the courts to identify the chronic, incorrigible
offender and hand down some serious sentences that deny them the
opportunity to continue offending. But many judges are reluctant to
embrace this concept. They see it as an intrusion on their discretion
to do what they believe is appropriate in each case.

This is why we need more legislation that imposes mandatory minimum
penalties for selected offenders and offences. A law that demands
someone with a half dozen convictions for theft spends a minimum of
one year in jail would take that person off the street for 12 months.
It's conceivable that would result in hundreds of fewer victims over
the year.

On the positive side, this is already underway. The current crime bill
that is stalled in the Senate would begin ushering in mandatory
minimum sentences for some drug- and gun-related crimes. Judges and
lawyers are furious with the prospect that in some cases minimum
sentences may be carved in stone.

And that's usually as good a reason as any to demand it happen.