STATE PRISONS SPIN OUT OF CONTROL

THE eight Corcoran State Prison guards indicted last week on federal
cruelty charges must, of course, be held personally responsible for their
own actions, whatever they were.

But the semi-official line from the state Department of Corrections and
Gov. Pete Wilson's administration -- that if there was wrongdoing, it was
solely the misdeeds of rogue guards -- is not acceptable. There's something
more fundamentally amiss with the department.

As any business executive knows, one of the most perilous circumstances is
unbridled, unmanaged growth, and the Department of Corrections has been, by
a wide margin, the state government's fastest-growing segment. It has
added dozens of new facilities, hired some 35,000 new employees, expanded
its spending 10-fold and absorbed more than 130,000 new inmates since 1980.

Californians and their political representatives demanded that expansion,
decreeing that those who commit felonies would be treated more harshly than
in the past. The state's crime rates have fallen since the prison-expansion
program began and its advocates and defenders credit it with that drop.
Whether that credit is warranted, or not, it's clear that the rapid
expansion of California's penal system has had several interlocking effects
on the system itself, to wit:

As tens of thousands of young men were sucked into the inmate population by
tougher laws and harsher judicial and parole policies, many brought with
them gang-centered, violence-prone conduct;

Despite construction of new prisons, the system was packed well beyond its
designed capacity, becoming a human warehousing network rather than a
correctional program;

Drug treatment, education, job counseling and other programs that might
have reduced recidivism were reduced to near-nothing by a lack of money, a
lack of space and a lack of political will;

Tens of thousands of new guards were hired, shoved into the cell blocks and
guard towers with minimal training and acculturation but imbued with
god-like powers over inmates;

Expansion and retirements meant rapid promotion into management of people
who were only scantily prepared, thus creating what one former Corrections
official calls ``a loss of institutional leadership;''

The prisons tended to operate as independent units, rather than components
of a centralized department accountable through politicians to the public,
with wardens viewing themselves as captains of warships on the high seas;

An unholy alliance developed between those who were supposed to be managing
Corrections, including the governor, and the California Correctional Peace
Officers Association, which became the state's most powerful labor union;

Prison officials have restricted the ability of the media and legislators
to find out what's been happening behind prison walls. Wilson and the
department also have resisted proposals to establish an independent
watchdog such as an inspector general -- even though the governor says he
wants such an independent inspector for public schools.

Given those conditions, it's a minor miracle that California's prison
system hasn't experienced more misconduct and mismanagement. But the
conditions that bred what happened in Corcoran remain unaddressed. Indeed,
the indicted guards contend that they were only following departmental
orders when they put rival gang members together.

Taxpayers and voters should insist that those we elect get control of an
institution that appears to be out of control.