JUSTICE DEAN SEES COST OF CRIME-FIGHTING

Albany -- New UAlbany department head Dennis Rosenbaum wary of
measures that may erode civil liberties

For one who doesn't want to be known as "the nothing works guy,''
Dennis Rosenbaum spends a lot of time criticizing.

The new dean of the University at Albany's top-ranking School of
Criminal Justice is an outspoken critic of the nation's "war on
drugs,'' DNA testing and cop shows like "America's Most Wanted.''

In 1998, he authored a study declaring that the D.A.R.E. program
doesn't keep kids off drugs, and may actually increase drug use among
those who participate in the program. More recently, he warned that
the widespread installation of video cameras in schools will erode
civil liberties.

He likes McGruff the Crime Dog.

That's because prevention methods like "Take a Bite out of Crime,''
featuring the trench coat-wearing canine, rely on the community,
unlike top-down approaches that expand the powers of the police.

"Most people in society are so focused on the threat to our public
safety and the need to fight crime by any means necessary that they
are blind to the long-term effects of these programs,'' Rosenbaum said
in an interview. "It's all driven by a myopic fear of crime.''

But it's a fear, he found, that drives much "feel-good'' public
policy.

Rosenbaum learned that first-hand last year when he examined one of
law enforcement's sacred cows: the Drug Abuse Resistance Education
program.

This is the same program touted on bumper stickers and KFC buckets,
praised by presidents Bush and Clinton, and one that brings $700
million a year into the nation's schools.

D.A.R.E. is a 17-week course that puts uniformed police into
classrooms to urge kids to resist smoking pot, drinking and using
other drugs. Unlike some critics who were dismissed as D.A.R.E.
bashers, when Rosenbaum made his study he had credentials as a
D.A.R.E. supporter: the study was funded by the Illinois State Police,
which supervised the program.

The seven-year study of 1,090 Illinois schoolchildren shocked
lawmakers with its conclusion that the program had no impact on
preventing youths from using drugs when they reached high school. In
the suburbs, the study found that students exposed to D.A.R.E. used
drugs at a "significantly higher rate'' than urban or rural students.

Rosenbaum is highly critical of the nation's war on drugs, which he
views as an effort that has expanded the powers of police at the
expense of civil liberties and is incorrectly focused on supply rather
than demand.

Though not an advocate of legalization, Rosenbaum said the merits of
decriminalizing drugs have been "grossly distorted'' by critics.

"By far, the bigger health and safety risk is alcohol, but we're not
putting alcohol distributors in jail,'' he said.

Rosenbaum, 47, comes to Albany from Chicago, where he headed the
criminal justice program at the University of Illinois. With an annual
salary of $135,000, he inherits a school that was recently ranked
number 3 in the U.S. News & World Report rankings of graduate criminal
justice programs, and number one in other surveys.

Interestingly, Rosenbaum will be working closely with a shaper of much
of the policy he opposes -- former Drug Enforcement Administration
chief Thomas Constantine. Constantine will serve as a guest lecturer
in the school and set up a training program for police executives.

The former DEA chief said he was unaware of Rosenbaum's opposition to
national drug policy, but added, "I'm a believer that everyone is
entitled to their opinion.''

In his office at Draper Hall, where boxes are still unpacked and the
nameplate on the door bears the name of the former dean, Rosenbaum
sometimes appears uncomfortable with his own outspokenness. It's
understandable: Nelson Rockefeller's name appears simultaneously on
the stationery of the college and the state's draconian drug laws.

"I'm being a bit radical here,'' Rosenbaum said once during a
discussion of drug policy, adding offhandedly: "I'm trying to bring
state support into this school.''

But those who know him predicted Rosenbaum will have little trouble
melding his strong opinions with New York's often unforgiving
political climate.

"Dennis was very good in Chicago, which is about as political as it
gets,'' said Paul Lavrakas, director of the Center for Survey Research
at Ohio State University and a frequent collaborator. "He did forceful
scholarship, but at the same time maintained great working
relationships with chiefs of police on down.''

Rosenbaum grew up in a small Oregon town, and credits his interest in
law enforcement to a course called "The Criminal Mind'' taken during
his senior year at Claremont McKenna College in California. The course
got him asking questions: What caused people to commit crimes? And why
were some crimes punished differently than others?

Rosenbaum's research evolved into an exploration of crime prevention.
In the mid-1980s, he performed a study for the U.S. Department of
Justice on Crime Stoppers and other programs that offered cash awards,
like "Americas's Most Wanted.'' Despite the programs' successes,
Rosenbaum determined the combination of large cash awards and
anonymity encouraged lying.

More recently, Rosenbaum has become worried that advances in
technology produced to prevent crime will lead people to give up their
freedoms. DNA testing protects the innocent, sure; but it might also
one day prevent a person with a genetic illness from getting health
insurance. Soon, Rosenbaum said, airports will have the capacity to
install electronic fingerprint detection devices, also with unforeseen
implications.

"Do we want to have a society where there is a video camera on every
street corner, in every bank and every classroom, or DNA profiling
where the data is available to not only law enforcement officials, but
marketers and insurance companies?'' he asked.

"The argument is that this will help us be effective in preventing
crime,'' he said. "Well, Nazi Germany was also effective in preventing
crime.''