TIME MAY BE RIGHT FOR PRIVATE PRISONS

State's public prison system under scrutiny

Bans on private prison stall

FLORENCE, Ariz. -- Just as Highway 79 greets this prison town sweltering in
the desert, the barbed wire and drab concrete walls of the Central Arizona
Detention Center emerge from a seemingly endless stretch of cactus and rock.

On the outside, the sprawling compound looks like any new prison, with one
notable exception: There's a corporate insignia stamped on every flag,
plaque and badge in sight. Here in the scorched wilderness, the Corrections
Corporation of America is mixing profits and punishment -- a growing trend
that's sweeping a nation wondering where to put all its inmates.

For California, this emblem of the private prison industry is no mirage. In
fact, the Arizona lockup may turn out to offer a glimpse into what the
future holds for the state's already overburdened prison system.

California, with 158,000 inmates in three dozen state prisons, will need
space for nearly 50,000 more prisoners by 2003, according to the state
Department of Corrections.

``There is a prison crisis in this state,'' said David Myers, a former
Texas prison warden who heads the CCA's effort to expand into California
from a small office suite in Sacramento. ``And California has been late
coming to the private sector.''

Like it or not, private prisons may be on their way to California, which
has not approved funding for new public prison construction in eight years.
With an eye toward an obviously lucrative market, the CCA is already
constructing three prisons in California. Two of them are expected to be
used for federal inmates. But the other, now rising in the Mojave Desert,
is a suitor for state corrections officials.

Nashville-based CCA, founded in 1983 and the nation's largest private
prison operator, is spending $94 million on that prison in California City,
a town 68 miles southeast of Bakersfield, without any promises from the
state. In what is clearly a ``build it and they will come'' strategy, the
company is hoping its most ambitious prison project will turn out to be
California's first private prison for state inmates.

The company's gamble is being closely watched, from the powerful California
prison guards' union, which is waging major resistance to the private
prison industry, to town officials around the state eyeing private prisons
as economic salvation.

Timing stokes debate

The timing of CCA's foray into California is stoking the debate.

State corrections officials are already warning that failure to address the
projected shortfall in prison space could lead to an even more overcrowded
system and court orders to release inmates early. At the same time, some of
the state's most notorious public prisons are under more scrutiny than
ever, with Corcoran and Pelican Bay state prisons the subject of federal
investigations into allegations of brutality and civil rights violations.

To experts on crime and punishment, the question for California is whether
private prisons are an alluring fix for the anticipated space crunch and
problem-plagued state-run facilities or a bad trade-off that could lead to
even worse problems.

``We think there are serious problems with privatization,'' said Dale
Sechrest, a criminal justice professor at California State University-San
Bernardino. ``The thing that is disturbing about it is that they will say
they are doing a better job for less money when in fact they won't and they
can't.''

Foes of private prisons say it's bad policy to abdicate responsibility for
housing convicted criminals to the private sector, pointing to uprisings
and mismanagement at private prisons across the country, especially among
smaller operators.

Recently, Louisiana officials wrested control of a privately run juvenile
prison because of alleged abuses. Larger operations -- including CCA and
its 77 facilities -- are not immune. There have been 13 inmate stabbings,
including two deaths, at CCA's Youngstown, Ohio, prison. Six dangerous
inmates escaped from its prized Florence prison in 1996.

The U.S. Supreme Court in 1997 also stripped away efforts by the private
prison industry to insulate itself against prisoner lawsuits, ruling that
private prison guards can be sued for abuses. The ruling came in a case
alleging inmate mistreatment at a private prison in Tennessee.

Such problems have created unusual alliances against private prisons. The
California Correctional Peace Officers Association and the American Civil
Liberties Union, often fierce opponents in prison lawsuits, agree that
private prisons are not the answer to California's shortage of prison space.

``There is no question we are hearing more and more problems,'' said Jenni
Gainsborough, a private prison expert with the ACLU's National Prison
Project in Washington, D.C. ``I hope that will give (California) some
legislative pause.''

Private prisons, which began to appear in the early and mid-1980s, have
been a source of national debate for years.

Both sides offer up a host of studies and statistics that provide a
conflicting picture of whether private prisons really are cheaper. After
public hearings last year, the Little Hoover Commission, a state watchdog
panel, issued a report saying California needs to take a serious look at
privatizing some of its prison system. But two years ago, the U.S. General
Accounting Office issued a report questioning whether private prisons
actually save money.

Along with states from Florida to Arizona, the federal Bureau of Prisons
has relied heavily on the industry. The federal government last year turned
over operation of its Taft prison in a 10-year deal with Florida-based
Wackenhut Corrections Corp., CCA's main competitor.

The case for privatization

Private prison operators say they are simply more cost-efficient than their
public counterparts, able to handle the same task for less money. During a
recent tour of CCA's two prisons in Arizona -- one in Florence, 53 miles
southeast of Phoenix, and another largely devoted to federal immigration
inmates in Eloy, about 56 miles northwest of Tucson -- wardens and other
officials boasted of their ability to build a better prison.

At Florence, which houses about 2,000 state and federal inmates from around
the country, warden Michael Samberg points out the window to a $21 million
expansion under way on the prison grounds.

The company approved the expansion in March and it's expected to be done by
January -- a turnaround Samberg, a former Virginia corrections official,
said would take years in the public sector.

``Whatever I need, I get,'' he said. ``Do we pay attention to the stock? I
do. My company takes good care of me, including stock options. But if I
need to purchase a fence alarm, I'll purchase the best one. If I need a
Cadillac, I buy a Cadillac. If I need a Chevy, I buy a Chevy.''

To the inmates filling prisons like Samberg's, many of whom have spent time
in public lockups, the differences for the most part are subtle. Darren
Taylor, an inmate shipped to Florence from Alaska's state system, was
painting a mural on the wall of one of the prison corridors when asked
about his time in a private operation.

``It's all doing time,'' Taylor told a reporter during a July visit. ``If
you're doing time, it doesn't matter where it is.''

But attention to the bottom line is more noticeable in a private prison. As
he explained his company's philosophies in a recent interview, Eloy warden
John Gluch was handed the day's company stock price, a detail he admits
wasn't part of his job when he ran various Texas prisons.

The Florence facility demonstrates how a large operator like CCA can
thrive. The prison contracts with several states to house prisoners,
including a deal to handle more than 600 inmates from Alaska. As a result,
the company is usually certain it will not build unneeded prisons -- the
demand for prison space nationwide is insatiable.

California would be the mother lode for the private sector. ``California
takes them into the stratosphere,'' said Steve Martin, a Texas-based
corrections expert.

What remains unclear is whether the private prison industry can get a
toehold in California given the political battle picking up steam in the
Capitol. Legislators have lined up on both sides of the issue, with the
guards' union at the forefront of the fight to keep out private prisons.

Union officials insist that private prisons are not equipped to handle even
medium security inmates. They say companies employ low-paid, poorly trained
guards and care more about profits than public safety. The Department of
Corrections has expressed reservations about contracting with private
prisons, arguing more funding for public prisons is the better alternative.

``I don't think public safety should be contracted out to the lowest
bidder,'' argued Jeff Thompson, chief lobbyist for the guards' association.
``This would be a cut-rate, quick and cheap way to hand off a problem. (The
Legislature) ought to take a good look under the hood before they buy this
car.''

CCA counters that the union is trying to protect its turf by attacking the
private prison industry. CCA officials say with all the troubles
surrounding Corcoran, mixing privately run prisons into California can only
improve the system.

Precedent has been set

Despite the political opposition, there is precedent for the state to use
private prison operators. The state already contracts with about a dozen
minimum security private operators for inmates in pretrial services and
halfway-house settings. But that is a far cry from filling a prison like
the one going up in California City with serious felons sentenced to long
prison terms.

The California City prison, which is designed for 2,300 beds -- a
modest-sized facility compared with the state's larger prisons -- is
expected to be completed by the middle of next year. A new state-funded
prison tends to cost more than $200 million and takes years to build -- a
comparison backers of private prisons cite as reason to give the company a
chance to prove itself.

``We're running out of space,'' said state Senate Majority Leader Richard
Polanco, a Los Angeles Democrat who supports privatization. ``It's time for
the private sector to be given an opportunity to become part of the mix. If
we don't bring them on line, we'll see early releases (of inmates). Then it
will be shame on those that were shortsighted.''

In such places as California City and Mendota, a Central Valley town known
for its cantaloupes, the private prison industry can't arrive fast enough.
Mendota city officials are waiting with open arms for the $60 million
prison CCA is now constructing that's expected to be used for federal
immigration inmates.

``At this point, the pluses outweigh the minuses,'' said Alan Bengyel,
Mendota's city manager. ``I think cities like Mendota are just glad to have
a stable business that is not affected by the weather conditions. We need
prisons and they have to go somewhere.''

Checked-by: Mike Gogulski