triple murder; the latter received twenty-two hundred years for rape, kidnapping, and robbery. A judge, on an appeal by Mr. Anderson, added nine thousand years to his sentence (a second appeal knocked off five hundred years). Mr. Andersonâs release is set for the year 12744. Clearly, this is absurd.
If you think that âgetting tough on crimeâ works, that if only we added enough years and made incarceration bad enough, then nobody would risk committing crimes, please meet Sheriff Joe Arpaio of Maricopa County, Arizona. Sheriff Joe, who likes to be known as âAmericaâs Toughest Sheriff,â is proud of the harsh conditions in his jail: striped uniforms, pink underwear, chain gangs, sleeping in tents, no coffee, and cheap food. Arpaio proudly says his feedings cost just twenty-two cents per person per meal, twice a day. But itâs not just about frugality. Arpaio says prisoners deserve to be
punished: âI donât want criminals to be happy and comfortable in my jail. If you donât want to be there, donât commit the crime.â Fair enoughâuntil we consider that 70 percent of his inmates are technically innocent âpretrial detainees.â When jail is used for pretrial detention, it is supposed to hold, not punish. But perhaps more important than Arpaioâs inability to understand legal nuances is that his much-touted âget toughâ policies donât work, at least not in any way that deters crime or prevents recidivism.
A few years back Arpaio commissioned a study to examine and highlight his successes. Two recruited professors looked at people sentenced and released from his jail before and after Sheriff Joe was elected. But their findings donât support Arpaio. They found no difference in the recidivism between offenders released before Sheriff Joe took over and those released a few years later, after he âgot toughâ and introduced his unique brand of hospitality. Nor has Arpaio deterred other people from getting into trouble. Since he took over, the jailâs population has more than doubled, to ten thousand prisoners.
Honestly, though, the recidivism rate probably means little to Arpaio and his numerous fans
(Arpaio has won by a wide margin every election since 1993). For these people the issue is less about facts and figures than a deep-rooted desire to punish criminals. But it would be nice if those who advocated get-tough approaches would at least be honest and say their policies are more about vengeance than preventing crime. In an era when ignoring data and being contradicted by so-called âlibsâ is a rite of passage for conservative politicians, Sheriff Joe and his supporters simply discount any opponents as politically biased.
In the study of Arpaioâs effectiveness, the Arizona professors started with the premise that for get-tough policies to deter, inmates must actually dislike the policies. And although Arpaioâs gimmicks may garner contempt from liberals and applause from conservatives, in truth they may matter very little. The professors interviewed hundreds of inmates about their attitudes toward Arpaioâs jail. Inmates disliked being incarcerated, but beyond that, Arpaioâs policies garnered little hatred.
Regardless of anything happening in jail, a third of the inmates believed theyâd be back no matter what. The real-life conditions that led them to crime in the first placeâmentioned most were alcohol,
drugs, inability to pay child support, and not having a driverâs license needed to get to workâwerenât going to change upon their release. Among other inmates with more long-term plans to stay out of jail, the most complained-about aspects of incarceration were hardly unique to Maricopa County: lack of recreation, cold food, group quarters, and cigarette bans. It doesnât matter what color the underwear isâjail is jail. The âtoughnessâ Arpaio has tried to