THROW THE BOOK AT DELINQUENTS

With youth crime statistics dropping, Vic Toews' idea to lock up
10-year-olds doesn't make any sense.

When the Conservatives were elected in January, the moderate-minded
soul sent them off with an unspoken wish: go gently HMCS Harper, and
may you not all be flaming, right-wing wackos.

It hasn't been so bad, really, but the odd time the crazed genie
slips out of the bottle. To wit, the ruminations of Vic Toews,
Canada's justice minister. In remarks to the Canadian Bar Association
last week, he raised the possibility of lowering the age of criminal
responsibility from 12 years to 10.

According to the Citizen story, Mr. Toews did not reject outright the
option of incarceration for those 10 and 11. He suggested judges be
given the power to "assist" youngsters 10 and 11 who run afoul of the law.

I must have missed the news about the national crime wave being
perpetrated by kids in Grade 5, little Bonnie and Clydes rampaging
about on scooters, high on Skittles, waging war and sin with loaded Game Boys.

What parent hasn't felt the urgent desire to leave their rascals in a
dungeon overnight? But, speaking from experience, it would never work.

Try, for a moment, to imagine a jail cell suitable for a 10-year-old.

Couple of bunk beds. This part they'd be cool with. A television,
since they'd die without one -- and actually killing 10-year-olds is
not yet part of the Conservative platform -- digital cable and a DVD player.

Movies? Well, all the Harry Potters, The Lion, the Witch and the
Wardrobe, Home Alone, The Incredibles, Iron

Giant, anything with Will Ferrell.

Reading material? The HP oeuvre, the works of Lemony Snicket, Owl
magazine and NG Kids, the Captain Underpants collection, a smattering
of Magic Tree House, a couple of Tintins.

Clothes? They don't much care, so black-striped pajamas from the Gap,
with serial numbers on the back would be just fine. Laundry? Just
like at home: somebody else's problem.

Food? This one is so easy. Ten-year-olds, in my experience, eat five
things: hotdogs, pizza, french fries, chicken nuggets and anything
with peanut butter. And everybody gets their own tray!

Recreation? Xbox, Gamecube, PlayStation, Monopoly, Cranium Cadoo. The
hour of daily exercise would be optional, between episodes of Arthur
and George Shrinks. Roughhousing would be permitted, wouldn't it?
It's jail, after all. Temporary tattoos would be encouraged. Clean
your cell? Never. What, like company's coming?

Nightly tuck in? Find a happy-faced prison guard, dress him up as
Spartacat and everybody gets a high-five and a sucker before lights out.

See, this is easy. Any parent could be the warden tomorrow.

All this to say, it's a totally goofball idea. How many 10-year-olds
in this country actually commit crimes, anyway? Does anybody know?
Why is the justice minister even floating this one?

The Canadian Centre for Justice Statistics put together an
interesting report on the level of youth crime in 2003-04 for those
aged 12 to 17.

It found that 30 per cent of the cases involved 17-year-olds, 26 per
cent were 16-year-olds, while 15-year-olds accounted for another 20 per cent.

And 12-year-olds? Three per cent, or a total of roughly 2,114 "cases"
for the entire country. Presumably, the number of 10-year-old
criminals would be that much lower.

Youth crime, according to the report, is actually down, though there
is some jiggery-pokery with numbers due to changed attitudes in the
justice system about laying charges in the first place.

In the year in question, there were 70,465 cases in Canadian youth
courts, a 17-per-cent drop from the year before and 33 per cent lower
than in 1991/92.

Probation was the most common sentence (62.9 per cent), while 22.6
per cent of convictions resulted in custodial terms. The mean
sentence length was 67 days, while probation generally lasted about a year.

To be fair to Mr. Toews, he is not seriously talking about jailing 10
and 11-year-olds. In fact, he says he wants to help keep them out of
jail later by allowing a judge to intervene and order treatment that
would straighten delinquent kids out.

He said as much in a letter to newspapers later in the week.

The matter was sloppily handled, in any case. A prudent minister,
speaking to a group of lawyers, should be delivering exactly the
message he has in mind; not issuing clarifications later.

I mean, really. How did he think it would come out in the next day's
newspapers?

He forgot something important, too. Ten-month sentences served
intermittently, weekend passes, two fresh-air breaks a day, cold food
for lunch, a smattering of community service: ring a bell?

It's called public education. Dear Minister, we done got that already.