PRISON COSTS SHACKLING OREGON

The Benefits of Tough Sentencing Laws Diminish As the Prison System
Expands, Researchers Say

Oregon is on the verge of a milestone: In the next two years, the
state will spend tens of millions more tax money to lock up prison
inmates than it does to educate students at community colleges and
state universities.

The trend results from more than a decade of explosive prison growth
largely fueled by Measure 11, the 1994 ballot initiative that
mandated lengthy sentences for violent crimes. Since then, the number
of inmates has nearly doubled and spending on prisons has nearly tripled.

As legislators and the governor debate how much money to spend on
schools and higher education, there is little discussion in Salem on
spiraling prison costs.

Oregon taxpayers now spend roughly the same money to incarcerate
13,401 inmates as they do to educate 438,000 university and community
college students. But spending on prisons is growing at a faster rate
than education and other state services.

The Department of Corrections and Oregon Youth Authority budget is
projected to grow 19 percent in the next two years, to $1.66 billion,
under Gov. Ted Kulongoski's budget -- $174 million more than what
Kulongoski proposes to spend on universities and colleges.

University of Oregon President Dave Frohnmayer has warned lawmakers
of a "growing crisis in Oregon and nationally at the intersection of
corrections systems and other public priorities."

That's because the state budget essentially is a zero-sum game.
Education, human services and public safety, including the Department
of Corrections, account for 93 percent of state spending. Without tax
increases, money that goes to one of those isn't available for the others.

Why do prison costs soar beyond population growth? Since June 1995
after Measure 11 took effect, the prison population has grown from
7,539 to 13,401 inmates, including 5,387 Measure 11 offenders.

To keep them locked up, the state has built three prisons and
expanded five others the past decade. Another new prison -- Oregon's
14th -- opens this fall. A 15th prison, probably in Medford, would
open in 2012.

Oregon is not alone -- a prison boom has reshaped the national
landscape. The federal and state prison population has grown from
fewer than 190,000 in 1970 to 1.5 million by 2005, due in large part
to tough-on-crime laws that imposed longer sentences for violent and
habitual offenders.

According to the U.S. Department of Justice, Oregon's annual per
inmate cost of $24,665 made it the nation's 24th most expensive
prison system to operate in 2005.

Decline in Crime Levels Off

With so many criminals locked up, both Oregon and the nation have
seen a steady decline in violent crime rates. In Oregon, there were
about five violent crimes -- homicide, rape, robbery and aggravated
assault -- per 1,000 population in the 1980s compared with 2.8 crimes in 2005.

But the decline has leveled off in recent years. A growing consensus
among researchers concludes that the benefits of longer sentences
diminish as a state prison system grows. Their studies show that each
new cell added to a prison system has less impact on crime than
earlier additions because so many career criminals already are locked up.

After reviewing numerous studies of the link between incarceration
and crime rates, the Vera Institute of Justice in New York said in a
recent report: "Analysts are nearly unanimous in their conclusion
that continued growth in incarceration will prevent considerably
fewer, if any, crimes -- and at substantially greater cost to taxpayers."

Such findings have spurred states such as Washington to study
alternatives to building more prisons. In a report last year
commissioned by the Legislature, the Washington State Institute for
Public Policy concluded that expansion of proven treatment and
prevention programs would reduce the need for new prison beds. Steve
Aos, associate director of the institute, estimates such programs
would save taxpayers as much as $2.6 billion in prison construction
and operations between now and 2030.

Diminishing Returns

Experts suggest that Measure 11 has reached the point of diminishing returns.

A recent study by the Oregon Criminal Justice Commission, a state
agency, concluded that the number of crimes prevented each year by
adding one inmate to the Oregon prison system has declined from
nearly 30 per new inmate in 1994 to slightly more than 10 crimes in 2005.

The cost-benefit ratio of prison expansion has also diminished. In
1994, each additional $1 spent on incarceration yielded $3.31 in
reduced crime costs, the study said. By 2005, the benefit per $1
spent was $1.03, barely above the break-even point.

Michael Wilson, an economist at the criminal justice commission and
co-author of the study, said the calculation was based on an estimate
of the costs of various types of crimes, including the costs to
victims, to determine the dollar benefit of each crime that is
prevented through incarceration. Because the number of crimes
prevented per each new inmate declines as a prison system grows
larger, the ratio of that benefit to the costs of incarceration also declines.

Craig Prins, executive director of the justice commission and the
study's other co-author, says their findings suggest that the
Legislature should explore alternatives for fighting crime.

"That's what we gave up to build the prisons, and I see this session
as a time to take advantage of that, to try to treat their addictions
and change their thinking. I think there's evidence it's a good investment."

The Legislature has cut programs for offenders such as alcohol and
drug abuse treatment and education programs, particularly after the
recession forced deep cuts across state government in 2003.

It was during this time, according to the study, that the cost of
paying off the debt accumulated during the building boom exceeded the
cost of the treatment programs inside the prisons. Debt service to
finance prison construction soared from $20 million in 1995-97 to
$134 million in the next biennium.

Kulongoski's 2007-09 budget proposes to restore treatment programs.
His budget calls for increasing mental health services from $17.7
million to $28.9 million, increasing drug and alcohol abuse treatment
from $2.1 million to $8.1 million and increasing education programs
from $15.4 million to $16.8 million.

"This is the first time in probably the last 10 years that we've been
able to invest and make a commitment to treatment issues in the
corrections system and the juvenile justice system," said Joseph
O'Leary, Kulongoski's senior adviser on public safety.

O'Leary estimates 75 percent to 80 percent of Oregon inmates need
alcohol and drug treatment.

"We have to ask ourselves, if 98 percent of these people in prison
are eventually going to get out, isn't it smart to be doing something
with them while they're in custody to try to increase the odds
they're not going to reoffend and create new victims?" O'Leary said.

Others would go beyond expanding treatment programs. David Rogers,
executive director of the Partnership for Safety and Justice, an
advocacy group, recommends that lawmakers increase the amount of time
inmates can earn off their sentences beyond the existing 20 percent
cap and extend a modest "earned time" benefit to Measure 11 inmates,
who now aren't eligible for that benefit.

Oregon Department of Corrections Director Max Williams knows that
running a prison system is expensive. "We are a cost center not a
profit center," he likes to say.

But Williams argues that cost comparisons between his department and
higher education can be misleading because universities and colleges
have tuition and other sources of funding while prisons have only taxpayers.

He's impressed by the research of Aos in Washington and Prins and
Wilson in Oregon on the diminishing returns of building more prisons.
But Williams, a former Republican legislator, said decisions about
public safety require more than economic calculations.

When Oregon voters approved Measure 11 in 1994 and reaffirmed that
decision in 2000, Williams said, they made a choice about how they
want the state to deal with certain crimes and the people who commit them.

"It is about the concept of . . . appropriate punishment, and that's
written into our constitution. It's about personal responsibility and
accountability."

Sequel to Measure 11

The chief sponsor of Measure 11 is Kevin Mannix, a former legislator
and Republican candidate for governor. Mannix, a Salem lawyer, is
gathering signatures for another ballot initiative that would expand
mandatory minimum sentences from 14 months to 36 months for eight
types of drug and property crimes, from selling methamphetamine to burglary.

The state reports that about 3,700 offenders a year were convicted of
crimes listed in the Mannix initiative in recent years, and more them
half of them were placed on probation. But it's difficult to
accurately predict the impact on state prisons. Officials originally
forecast that Measure 11 would add far more prisoners to the system
than it actually did because analysts didn't foresee that prosecutors
would use the leverage of Measure 11 sentences to obtain guilty pleas
for lesser crimes carrying shorter sentences.

If it qualifies for the November 2008 ballot, Mannix's initiative
will spark renewed debate over the effectiveness of incarceration in
fighting crime.

Mannix argues that Measure 11 reduced violent crime, and his new
version will do the same for property crime.

"Measure 11 cost money, but it didn't blow the budget," Mannix says.
"When it comes to property crimes, my assertion is that the cost of
not incarcerating offenders will be more than the cost of
incarceration. . . . We all pay it through hidden costs and
insurance, and the poor pay the most."

Critics of an incarceration strategy contend that the decline in
violent crime cannot so easily be linked to Measure 11. In a 2004
study, Judith A. Greene, an analyst at Justice Strategies in New
York, compared what happened in Oregon and New York from 1995 to 2002.

Both states experienced a sharp reduction in violent crime. But New
York, unlike Oregon, also cut its incarceration rate. More effective
policing tactics instituted under then-New York City Mayor Rudy
Giuliani are widely credited with the crime reduction.

The drop in Oregon's violent crime rate during the 1990s cannot be
attributed primarily to Measure 11, Greene said in the report. The
effect of the longer sentences would not be felt until years later,
after inmates remained in prison beyond their likely release date
under the old sentencing system.

"Measure 11 has cost Oregon an enormous amount of money," Greene said
in an interview. "Here in New York, we're getting equal or better
results, and we're saving money. If it were true that incarceration
was the cause in Oregon and better policing was the cause in New
York, you'd certainly choose better policing. You would choose the
one that costs less."

William Spelman, a professor at the LBJ School of Public Affairs at
the University of Texas, did some of the pioneering research on how
states reap diminishing rewards as they build more prisons. He says
the effectiveness of an incarceration strategy "depends mostly on who
you're putting in that prison bed."

"If you are putting away drug offenders or burglars, it's almost
certainly a waste of taxpayer money," Spelman says. "If they're armed
robbers, maybe it does make sense."

[sidebar]

THE LAW DIDN'T DETER, BUT DID SIDELINE

Two Men's Urge for Meth Overpowered Fears of a Long Measure 11 Sentence

SALEM -- There is no way to know how many crimes, if any, have been
prevented during the combined 17 years that Roger Rosling and Timothy
Willard have been behind bars.

But preventing men such as Rosling and Willard from committing more
crimes by locking them up for a long time was certainly the goal of
Oregon voters when they approved Measure 11 in 1994.

Rosling, 48, and Willard, 41, are Measure 11 inmates at the Oregon
State Correctional Institution. They are two of more than 5,000
Measure 11 inmates in Oregon prisons.

Both men accepted plea agreements on charges of robbery that sent
Rosling to prison for 11 years and eight months in 1997 and Willard
for 15 years in 1999. Rosling is scheduled to be released in November
2008 and Willard in February 2014.

Rosling's criminal history illustrates why voters approved Measure 11.

In 1986, he was sentenced to "up to 30 years" for robbery. But he
didn't serve nearly that much time, because in 1997 he was back in
court on two counts of robbery. Rosling said he robbed a tavern on
Portland's east side near Interstate 205. He said he was armed with a
pellet gun but didn't use it.

By then, Rosling had three prior convictions for "person crimes."
According to an analysis by the Oregon Criminal Justice Commission,
his sentence under pre-Measure 11 guidelines would have been almost
exactly the 140 months he accepted under Measure 11.

But he also could have earned up to 28 months off his sentence. So
without Measure 11, he might be free today.

Willard also had numerous prior convictions but for less serious
property crimes. Armed with a handgun, he went on a 16-day spree,
committing robberies in Washington, Clackamas and Marion counties.

In his plea agreement, he was sentenced to 180 months. Without
Measure 11, his sentence would have been about 110 months.

In both cases, Measure 11 failed on one level. It did not serve as a
deterrent. Both men said they were aware of the 1994 ballot measure
and had given some thought to staying out of its clutches.

"I didn't want to do anything that would get me Measured 11, as we
called it," Rosling said.

But both said their robberies were driven by a bigger motivation:
feeding their methamphetamine habits.

"When you start playing around with drugs, you don't think about
that," Willard said. "You don't think like a normal person, because
if you did, you wouldn't be doing that in the first place."

Prison officials said Rosling and Willard have good records inside
the institution and are productive workers in the print shop. The men
said they believe they have conquered their meth habits and can stay
out of trouble on the outside.

"I've just decided now I'm way too old for that stuff," said Rosling,
who has spent about 20 of the past 24 years in Oregon prisons.
"There's a pull there, still, even though I know it would be
life-ending for me. I can't do another prison term."