Community-Based Corrections

Chapter 13 includes a discussion about the cases for and against community-based corrections. You may also want to refer to the American Correctional Association (Links to an external site.)Links to an external site..

In a 2-3 page paper using APA format, identify and discuss the main benefits of community-based corrections. In doing so, discuss whether you agree with this view. If not, why? Also, identify and discuss the basic criticisms of community-based corrections.

Chapter 13 below

Reference

Souryal, S. S. (2015). Ethics in Criminal Justice, In search of the Truth (6th Ed). New York, NY: Routledge Taylor & Francis Group.

13Ethics of Probation and Parole Healing a limb is inspiring, but isn’t the healing and restoration of a shattered life a greater miracle? Manford Craig I was in prison and you came to visit me. Matthew 25:36 Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering. Hebrews 13:3 Incarceration is a life in an evil and corrupting atmosphere with hope dimmed and common decencies smothered. Karl A. Menninger What you will Learn from this Chapter You will learn about the professional orientation of probation and parole, the dilemma of the borderless community, and the ethics of community-based corrections. You will learn of the work strategies of probation/parole practitioners, the common unethical practices in probation/parole, and the four typologies of probation/parole officers. You will also learn about the historical background of community-based corrections, the arguments for and against these programs, the views of Morris and Tonry, who consider community-based corrections too lenient, and of von Hirsch, who considers them too severe. Key Terms and Definitions Ethical Imperative of Probation/Parole is the obligation of probation and parole officers to protect the community and the offenders. Community-Based Corrections is an alternative to institutional corrections. Instead of relying totally on incarceration, it places more offenders on probation, therefore enhancing their chances for rehabilitation without separating them from their communities or contributing to prison overcrowding. Intensive Probation is a method of probation that imposes more severe restraints on the probationers than those imposed by normal probation conditions. It involves stricter supervision, closer monitoring, restrictions on one’s freedom of movement, and mandatory participation in treatment programs. Overview Traditionally, probation and parole were the stepchildren of American corrections. The dominant feature—both politically and financially—has been institutional corrections. Consequently, probation and parole have always been starved for attention. Today, this picture has almost totally vanished. Probation and parole have become the most rapidly increasing forms of corrections, with probation being the most common sentence given to offenders (Walker, 1989:210). Probation is a sentence meted out by a court in lieu of a prison term, and parole is a form of pardon granted before a prison sentence is completed. From a correctional standpoint, probation and parole represent perhaps the most rational model, because under the rubric of community-based corrections, they seem more humane, cost-effective, and successful than prisons. The philosophy of probation and parole is fairly basic: Society is willing to take a chance on the offenders who are willing to help themselves; they are allowed to remain in the community, have a job, raise a family, and earn a living, as long as they abandon crime. Offenders are to be supervised in accordance with a prestructured plan crafted by the court and the probation expert. If the offender reneges or fails to keep his parole (simply meaning “promise”), his privileges are revoked and he is returned to prison. There is not much doubt that the initial purposes of probation and parole were as noble as they were motivated by goodness. Probationers and parolees were far less risky individuals than they are today; indeed, most of them were property offenders. There were not many mentally retarded, psychologically disturbed, or chemically dependent offenders, as is the case today. By the same token, probation and parole officers’ jobs were substantively challenging. They were drawn to the field because they were interested in people, took pride in their personal skills, and worked with offenders in both the office and the field (Friel, 1990). Probation and parole officers came from a background in the social sciences and believed that they had the capacity to substantively change other people. They did not use scientific methods like risk-needs assessment and instruments with complex grids and boxes, and viewed themselves as intuitively competent to perform such tasks. Probation and parole administrators came from the ranks of good probation and parole officers. They were good role models of what probation and parole stood for, and society understood what those institutions were and what the core technology was. These managers were people who rose to the top because they were devoted to the mission, upheld a high work ethic, and were able to effectively supervise the supervisors of probation and parole (Friel, 1990). The Professional Orientation of Probation and Parole Compared with police or corrections personnel, probation and parole officers reflect an exceptional knowledge orientation. Probation and parole agencies require a college degree for employment. Unless a department requires additional experience (which is becoming more common today), new practitioners are hired from college or university settings, where they probably have majored in social work, sociology, or criminal justice studies (Bartollas, Miller, & Wice, 1983:206). Hired at a relatively mature age (as opposed to many police officers and correctional officers), they bring with them an impressive social service orientation, an informed view of criminal behavior, and in most cases, a professional orientation toward the delivery of social services. Another reason for the professional orientation of probation and parole officers is the “civilian” nature of their departments. Most agencies are organized along a “corporate” structure in which they serve a professional commission, as in the case of probation, or an executive board, as in the case of parole. Unlike the semi-military structure of police and correctional institutions, in which emphasis is placed on discipline and obedience, the environment of probation and parole departments lends itself to more reasoning and greater reliance on self-control. This professional orientation is further enhanced as new officers learn the information necessary to provide probation and parole services. Focus is usually on learning the general philosophy, the goals and objectives of the profession, and the ways and means of effectively achieving such objectives. Of particular note, moreover, is the fact that most probation and parole officers tend to take professional training much more seriously than police or corrections officials and eagerly absorb the new technologies offered by qualified in-house and outside instructors. A third reason for the professional orientation of probation and parole officers is their method of operation. In the vast majority of cases, probation and parole officers face no emergencies of the kind faced by police or corrections officers, usually carry no weapons, and are relatively less concerned for their own safety. Officers are assigned a “caseload” of offenders, who become their personal “clients.” They meet them on a regular basis, evaluate their family backgrounds, and pursue a treatment plan that can fit their individual needs. Improvement in the offender’s behavior produces instant gratification for the handler. Unlike the “herdlike relationship” that exists in police and corrections, this “client relationship” entails a personal investment, allowing the practitioner an opportunity to “see the result” in a more tangible manner. A fourth reason for the professional orientation of probation and parole officers is the sense of professional worth that they develop by their proximity to the centers of justice allocation— the courts. Especially in probation, in which the officer normally serves under the intimate guidance of a judge, practitioners become more able to appreciate their impact on exacting justice. Involvement in the presentence investigation (PSI) is a perfect example. It can provide a gratifying sense of accomplishment when contrasted with the meaninglessness and powerlessness experienced by other criminal justice practitioners. Unlike issuing traffic tickets or filing mundane criminal charges, as most police officers do, or performing “turnkey” functions, as most correctional officers do, preparing a PSI report can represent involvement in the justice process, because the officers assess the past and the present, as well as the future of an offender on trial. PSI reports can be detrimental to the continued liberty of the offender, because judges consider them integral to the sentencing process, often relying on them as “the best guide to intelligent sentencing” (Murrah, 1963, as cited in Stojkovic, Klofas, & Kalinich, 1990:400). Indeed, national studies show that PSI recommendations are adopted by judges between 66% and 95% of the time (Abadinsky, 1991). Moreover, PSI reports have far-reaching implications in devising a plan for probation or parole supervision. While criticism of PSIs is abundant (Dawson, 1969; Gaylin, 1974; Kingsnorth & Rizzo, 1979; Rosecrance, 1968), the power that PSIs offer the probation officer can certainly reinforce his or her professional orientation. The Probation Mystique The probation mystique has been altogether different from that of police or institutional corrections. It began as a peaceful movement, devoid of violence, malice, deceit, or even indifference. It was based on the presumption of goodwill and giving offenders a second chance. The probation movement, at its core, glorifies the story of humanness, voluntariness, sympathy, self-denial, and mercy. John Augustus (1784-1859) was recognized as the “apostle” or “father” of probation and the hero of the story. He was a man who “voluntarily attended sessions of criminal court in the 1850s, and willingly offered to take selected offenders into his home as an alternative to incarceration” (Souryal, 1996:6). The Augustus mystique tells a very “ethical” story that should be internalized in the minds of all criminal justice students and practitioners. He was not famous, rich, or intellectually prominent, nor did he hold a public office (indeed, he was a shoe repairman). Yet Augustus was a rational man who was gifted with moral values and a unique sense of vision. He saw social wrong and tried to correct it, and saw an opportunity to do good and took advantage of it. What he offered was neither socially necessary nor economically attractive, yet he saw it as a moral imperative. “Why,” he most likely asked, “should society subject its people to the dangers of imprisonment if it were able to treat them by more ethical means?” The answer to this question constitutes the principle of social obligation—the duty of a “good society” to make every effort possible to redeem its delinquents, especially because “we are all fallible, and the demise of anyone diminishes us all.” He probably also realized that “the civility of any society can be measured by how few prisoners it keeps” (Souryal, 1996). For all practical purposes, the Augustus legacy reflects Maslow’s image of the transcendent person (the profile we first met in Chapter 1). Augustus must have been one who delighted in bringing about justice; tried to set things right; tried to clean up messy situations; and sacrificed his time and money to accomplish all that. Had Augustus lived today, he most likely would have disagreed with boot camps, wearing uniforms, and carrying a weapon, and would have approached probationers armed only with knowledge and goodwill. Idealistic as Augustus must have been, his legacy produced a viable probation system. By the end of the nineteenth century, probation in America became a widely accepted form of community service. By 1925 all 48 states had adopted probation legislation and the National Probation Act enabled federal district court judges to appoint probation officers and impose probationary terms (Schmalleger, 1995:407). Probation today is not only a well-established social institution, but also a fairly universal phenomenon as well. Its meteoric progress attests to its moral sensibility. The validity of present-day probation, however, cannot be divorced from the moral idealism of Augustus, because without the “ideals” he started, there could not have been the “realities” we now possess (Souryal, 1996). The Borderless Community Perhaps the most significant responsibility of probation and parole officers is supervising offenders. Underlying this responsibility is a utilitarian obligation to protect the community, on one hand, and a Rawlsian obligation to protect the interests of the offender, on the other. Balancing these two obligations represents the ethical imperative of probation and parole. But in order to better understand the “reality” of this imperative, we should first be familiar with the environment of community-based supervision from the standpoint of both the offender and the probation or parole officer. Offenders placed on probation or parole today may have committed almost any type of criminal offense and may range from first-time offenders to career criminals. The number of offenders placed on probation or released on parole can also vary considerably, depending on the political and fiscal climate in the jurisdiction, existing laws, levels of prison overcrowding, and the prevailing philosophy toward probation and parole. Naturally, there are bound to be substantial variations with respect to the type and extent of supervision conditions imposed by the court or the parole board. Moreover, the individuals under supervision may vary considerably in terms of the personal problems they face (for example, family difficulties, unemployment, educational needs, or alcohol or drug abuse) (Travis, Schwartz, & Clear, 1983:159). The officers, on the other hand, are expected to be “all things” to all people. They are expected to perform paradoxical functions: surveillance, much as police do, and treatment, much as correctional officers do. But unlike police or corrections, probation and parole officers are inundated with excessive caseloads, progress reports, and unnecessary paperwork. It is not unusual that community resources are unavailable or disorganized, or that those in charge are unwilling to offer the service (Travis et al., 1983:160). As a result, the professional orientation probation and parole officers bring to their jobs suffers in several aspects. As Friel describes, this ambivalent environment forces devoted officers to “trash out the definition of their profession and get hoodwinked into the shell game” (Friel, 1990:41). Some of the factors contributing to the borderless community of probation and parole are as follows. First, probation officers are seen as notoriously underpaid. If they are under county jurisdiction, as are more than two-thirds of juvenile probation officers, their pay is likely to be even less (Bartollas et al., 1983:213). This situation makes it nearly impossible for an officer with a family to survive without a second job or without the spouse working. Low pay also contributes to low self-esteem, which in turn impedes one’s sense of self-realization. Second, the unsettling attitudes of the public and other criminal justice practitioners continue to frustrate the officers’sense of professionalism. Probation and parole officers operate in a system that has been widely criticized for being ineffective (Cullen & Gilbert, 1982, 2013; Sechrest, White, & Brown, 1979). Parole agencies, in particular, have been labeled the “unwanted child” of the criminal justice system, a label that arouses the fury of both conservatives and liberals. Conservatives accuse parole agencies of turning dangerous criminals loose too soon to prey on law-abiding people, while liberals indict parole boards for making arbitrary release decisions that discriminate against or victimize minority group members. Third, the politicization of probation and parole agencies seems to continue unabated. Managers of parole agencies, in particular, are compelled to accommodate the whims of uninformed policy makers who demand that they carry out illegitimate diversionary measures as political ploys to alleviate prison overcrowding. In this regard, Friel, in “Intergovernmental Relations: Correctional Policy and the Great American Shell Game,” writes, The policymaker says, “Psst, parole guy, I don’t know what you do, but they tell me you watch guys for 50 cents a day. Here is what I want you to do. Every time we need a bed in the prison, you get a guy out. Around midnight, you slip him out and keep him out. You take this huddled mass yearning to breathe free, drug dependent, mentally retarded, illiterate with no work ethic, psychopathetic deviant, and you keep him out, right? We will tell the public we are tough on crime, and no taxes. OK?… Everybody agree?” Friel, 1990:41 Given this perplexing environment, it comes as no surprise that probation and parole officers—despite their professional orientation—resent their “borderless community”—one that is ambiguous, contradictory, and politically vulnerable. Consequently, in such an environment, job dissatisfaction, stress, and burnout are considered “very real occupational problems,” and disillusionment with the noble cause of community corrections becomes common. In Burnout in Probation and Corrections, Whitehead points out that in most organizations, employment is seen as an early-career position that most people eventually leave. Few people, Whitehead adds, “stay in community corrections work for their entire professional careers. Turnover is often high, burnout is epidemic, and work cynicism pervades the office” (Whitehead, 1989:3). The Yellow Wind In Israeli mythology a “yellow wind” is a nasty east wind that comes once every few decades. It brings with it high temperatures, deafening noise, and mountains of dust. It aggravates the “shepherds and the sheep, but neither the lizards nor the locust.” After a short while, the yellow wind suddenly stops, accomplishing nothing. The wise man sets his back to the yellow wind, and turns not around until it blows over. By the late 1960s and early 1970s, a yellow wind blasted the institutions of probation and parole. As a product of increased violence, attributable to the baby boom generation hitting puberty, the civil rights movement, and the antiwar movement, people began to see an America that was nasty and violent. Subsequently, as Friel chronicles in “Intergovernmental Relations: Correctional Policy and the Great American Shell Game”: “Society declared war on everything—we had a war in Vietnam, a war on illiteracy, and a war on crime” (Friel, 1990:38). The rhetoric of war is particularly pleasing because it galvanizes society. The rhetoric presupposes that there are “good guys” and “bad guys,” that there are strategies and tactics, and that there is an ultimate victory—all of which, Friel believes, is a myth when it comes to crime, the unending plague common since Cain. As a result, Friel asserts, society demanded action and government acted with severe countertrends. Among the first victims of the yellow wind were the legacies of prisons. They were envisioned as a defunct concept—expensive and ineffective. Consequently, a moratorium on prison construction was put into effect, giving rise to a scramble for alternative methods of corrections. Community-based corrections—as a “new and improved” version of traditional probation and parole—emerged, capturing the imagination of a perplexed correctional community. Many states were attracted to the concept because they did not have to spend money on prisons (which do not bring any votes anyway), satisfying society’s outcry for “getting tough on crime” and avoiding raising taxes. In 1996, for instance, the number of adults on probation and parole in the United States reached a record high. State and federal agencies reported that 2,343,220 were on probation, 555,183 on parole, and 155,327 under mixed supervision—at an annual budget of $3,166,286,652. (Criminal Justice Institute, 1996). Tellingly, by 2012, an estimated 4,781,300 adults were under community supervision (Maruschak & Bonczar, 2013). Probation and parole practitioners felt the brunt of the yellow wind more than anyone else in criminal justice. With large numbers of offenders came the need for modernization, which brought about bureaucratization, which in turn led to occupational stress and premature burnout. Many of the practitioners became disenchanted with their jobs, many succumbed to the bureaucratic trance, and many sought employment elsewhere. In order to accommodate the sudden change, scientific methods were introduced, including electronic monitoring and surveil-lance techniques, in effect destroying the original philosophy of personal attention and compassion. Instead of a benign work environment, an officious environment analogous to a prison environment emerged—one that such agencies were originally designed to replace. Because probation and parole agencies have so much in common, and practitioners of both agencies face similar role conflicts and frustrations, in the following discussion, no distinction will be made between them. To avoid undue complexity, both functions will be discussed as one and the same. Romancing the Stone or Stoning the Romance: Ethics of Community-Based Corrections In a well-known Hollywood action film, a couple of adventurers went to the Amazon jungle in search of a precious stone, but after dangerous encounters with native tribesmen, professional thieves, and, of course, encounters with exploding trucks and man-eating crocodiles, they almost lost what they had fought for—the stone itself. In a sense, this illustrates how society today handles the jewel we call community-based corrections. In a less romantic scene, Americans can be seen as experts in building walls when the bricks are straight; if the bricks are not straight and the wall is warped, they pass it off to the next generation to fix. The nation has repeatedly done so with regard to the national debt, national health care, and education, and we may be doing the same today with corrections. While the goals of community-based corrections represent the admirable virtues of human dignity, self-realization, and a utilitarian concern for the welfare of society—all under the canopy of social justice— the means of conducting probation and parole duties indicate a “comedy of errors” similar to that in policing and prisons. Once more, society fails to stand up to the ends-means dilemma: the seduction of accomplishing glorious things the wrong way. Community-based corrections is, in essence, a value-neutral concept; it is neither inherently good nor does it threaten unexpected harm. As such, the practice produces goodness when it is applied ethically, and produces evil the rest of the time. However, the concept of community-based corrections seems to have degenerated in a miasma of indifference wrapped in political propaganda. What some may view as the most moral reform package ever invented, others may consider a social copout—either disproportionate to the gravity of crime, or unduly intrusive on human dignity or the privacy of third parties (von Hirsch, 1990). Proponents of community-based corrections justify its goodness on the basis of its apparent effectiveness and record of success—the lower rate of return to crime. Critics, on the other hand, argue that the system may only appear successful in a “corporate sense,” yet it is qualitatively deficient—it falls short of delivering the benefits it is billed to deliver. It is noteworthy, however, that, while supporters of community-based corrections focus invariably on its contribution to humanity (as opposed to harsh treatment in prisons), detractors, while equally critical of prisons, raise a broader, rather contradictory range of ethical issues. These include leniency of punishment, on one hand (the Morris and Tonry thesis), and undue severity (the von Hirsch thesis), on the other. The Case for Community-Based Corrections Advocates of community-based corrections argue that the practice is ethically superior to institutional corrections because it offers several distinct benefits: freedom from incarceration at the humanistic level; cost-effectiveness at the utilitarian level; and maintaining family relationships at the socio-organic level. Nothing else is considered to be of greater moral significance. In sum, the case for community-based corrections seems to be artificially constructed as a convenient scheme to alleviate the adverse image and high cost of incarceration. A brief summary of the principal benefits of community-based corrections, from the prescriptive of its advocates, follows. Freedom from incarceration. Even with the considerable advances in penological practices in the twenty-first century, the perception of prisons as doing more harm than good lingers. Community-based corrections, on the other hand, maintains some semblance of the social qualities of free life. Community-based programs are not considered “total institutions,” and the penalties involved are not perceived as “real punishments.” After all, they do not involve high walls, cell blocks, window bars, curfew requirements, and other degrading trappings of imprisonment. Furthermore, community-based programs make every effort to spare offenders the psychological damage of living under a totalitarian community created and administered to reinforce inferiority and debasement. Critics, as we will see, question this benefit, asserting that probation, despite any benevolent label given to it, is still punishment and, at times, can be as cruel as imprisonment. Cost-effectiveness. It has become increasingly apparent that the cost associated with more incarceration and prison construction is astronomical (Latessa & Smith, 2011). Because an offender usually maintains employment while under community supervision, the offender usually contributes to his or her upkeep through taxes, social security, family support, and in some cases, restitution to victims. Thus, the general perception is that, while prisons are financial liabilities, community-based corrections programs are assets. Critics refute this benefit by suggesting that the idea of immediate savings as a result of substituting a prison sentence with probation is a false assumption. True savings, they assert, cannot accrue unless substantial numbers are taken out of prison so that a prison or a wing of the prison may be closed. That, critics add, does not seem an immediate likelihood in most American jurisdictions (Morris & Tonry, 1990:18). Family relationships. As Newman and Anderson (1989) state, community-based corrections help avoid “social surgery”; that is, the severing of a person’s family and community relationships. In contrast to prison, community-based corrections provide a local base from which the offender continues to receive support from family members, friends, church members, and other sources. Furthermore, depending on the offender’s needs, agencies such as Alcoholics Anonymous, drug treatment centers, and marital and vocational counseling, as well as religious organizations, can all be utilized toward the person’s self-realization. Such services tend to satisfy the offender’s psychological needs, reinforce his or her self-esteem, and perhaps help purify his or her sinful soul. Critics, as we will also see, question this benefit, asserting that the punitiveness of probation may very well disturb family relations and further complicate one’s self-esteem (von Hirsch, 1990:163). From an ethical standpoint, the case for community-based corrections must be considered a worthy step on the road toward instilling humanity in the conduct of criminal justice. In contrast to the degradation of prison, this method of corrections signifies a moral concern for the individual, one that is consistent with the natural law ethics of “dignity of man,” the constitutional ethics of individualized treatment, and perhaps the religious ethics of redemption. The offender in community-based corrections is treated as a responsible person, capable of upholding moral obligations toward self, family, and community, as well as making restitution for the offense committed. More important, however, is the common perception of community-based programs as a huge economic saving, regardless of whether they advance the objective of rehabilitation—the principal purpose behind its theory. The Case Against Community-Based Corrections Critics of community-based corrections do not question the movement’s tendency to humanize the correctional process. Harsh as imprisonment is, its deprivations are manifest, and so is the need to limit its use. Critics nevertheless argue that this real—or contrived—focus on humanity may obscure more serious moral issues related to justice and equity and the rights of offenders. Two notable critics have examined the state of community-based corrections in considerable detail and forwarded adequate reasoning for criticism. Morris and Tonry, in Between Prison and Probation (1990), argue that the practice of probation is essentially too lenient and should be integrated into a more effective system of intermediate sanctions. In contrast, in “The Ethics of Community-Based Corrections” (1990), von Hirsch argues that community-based corrections may be too severe and may violate significant ethical principles that must be addressed before the practice is considered an appropriate means for noncustodial penalties. The Leniency View of Morris and Tonry In their thesis, Morris and Tonry point out that the correctional system in America is, in general, both too lenient and too severe; too lenient, as there are many on probation who should be subject to tighter controls in the community; and too severe, because many of those in prison and jail would present no serious threat to community safety if they were under control in the community (Morris & Tonry, 1990:3). In reference to the current theory of corrections, the authors state most directly that convicted criminals should not be spared punitive responses to their crimes; there is no point in imposing needless suffering, but effective sentencing will normally involve the curtailment of freedom, either behind walls or in the community, large measures of coercion, and enforced diminutions of freedom; this is entirely properly regarded as punishment. The language of treatment, reform, and rehabilitation has been corrupted by unenforced and uncritically evaluated good intentions. We fool ourselves—or worse, pretend—if we fail to acknowledge that the intrusions into people’s lives that result from criminal punishment are unpleasant and painful. Morris & Tonry, 1990:5 Having explained their view of what punishment ought to be and justifying the need to restore “real punishment” to the correctional process, Morris and Tonry characterize the state of contemporary probation by stating, [Probation] in many cities has degenerated into ineffectiveness under the pressure of excessive caseloads and inadequate resources. For certain categories of offenders now on probation, some though not all could be better subjected to more intensive controls than probation now provides. Morris & Tonry, 1990:6-10 In their quest to propagate a system of intermediate punishments as a rational (and, presumably, more just) sentencing system, the authors proposed a hierarchy of sanctions, starting with capital punishment and ending with electronic monitoring. Intermediate levels include prison, fines, house arrest, probation, intermittent imprisonment, forfeiture, and restitution. Details of these punishments will not be discussed, because they are fairly complex and are of lesser relevance to the discussion of ethics of probation. At the probation level, however, the authors particularly noted the propriety of intensive probation. The authors underscore intensive probation as “a mechanism by which reality can be brought to all intermediate punishments” (Morris & Tonry, 1990:11). They further assert that “intensive probation has the specific capacity of both controlling offenders in the community and facilitating their growth to crime-free lives” (Morris & Tonry, 1990:11). In the next segment we will discuss intensive probation, because of its significance to effective probation, and electronic monitoring, two of the most attractive—yet perhaps ethically questionable—intermediate sentences. Intensive Probation Morris and Tonry characterize this method of probation as a more intensive withdrawal of autonomy than ordinary probation. While conditions of intensive probation may vary from state to state, the central feature is that more control is exerted over the offender than with standard conditions of probation. These extra control mechanisms invariably involve restrictions on liberty of movement, coercion into treatment programs, employment obligations, or all three. The intensive probation program in Georgia has been highly acclaimed as a model for other jurisdictions. The program is a judicially imposed package (as opposed to Massachusetts, where the decision is made administratively by the probation department), the characteristics of which are (1) small caseloads for team supervision, each team consisting of two officers (a probation officer and a surveillance officer); (2) each team supervises about 25 offenders; (3) each team is authorized to enforce a variety of conditions, including curfews, employment, community service, and drug and alcohol monitoring; (4) at least five face-to-face contacts each week; and (5) offenders pay fees for service ranging from $10 to $50 per month, the amount being set by the sentencing judge. From an ethical perspective, however, Morris and Tonry do not address the moral implications of intensive probation; namely, the direction of intensification in terms of any added capacity to promote rehabilitation. Little mention, if any, is made regarding visionary means by which the probationers’ behavior can be modified or their relationships with society improved; for example, intensified psychological or spiritual counseling, intensified academic or vocational schooling, or intensified means for locating gainful employment. If these directions are not the impetus for intensification, then what is being described as “intensive” is simply an intensified effort at individual deterrence—not to commit crime during the duration of probation. But in the philosophy of probation, this goal must be considered secondary at best. All offenders would eventually be released from probation, whether intensive or standard, and unless a redeeming change away from crime could be started “within” the person, no real merit can be claimed by intensive programs over standard programs, except perhaps the negative merit of wasted cost. Furthermore, it is rather peculiar reasoning to argue that a probationer who has been compelled to meet with his or her probation officer five times per week (as opposed to once or twice) and was forced to endure greater punitive restrictions would turn out to be a better citizen than someone who was not, for that reason only. Another ethical consideration can be raised pertaining to the requirement of paying service fees. Although most offenders will probably not object to such a condition because it is their exit tax out of prison, in principle the requirement is ethically questionable on at least four counts: (1) As the sovereign entity, the state has an obligatory interest to reform all of its “delinquent children” as a means of protecting society, and because the state governs the correctional system, it is then obliged by social arrangement (remember Rawls), by legal tradition, or for that matter, by the absence of alternative means, to accommodate its “offenders,” free of charge, for as long as it takes. If that is not the case, prison inmates should be required to pay for their cell space, meals, showers, medical services, and custodial costs. And because placing offenders on probation is a “greater interest” to society than keeping them in prison (where they remain idle, cost more, and pay nothing), requiring probation fees must be unreasonable and inequitable. While some may argue that the probationer has an option to accept or refuse probation, given the “boogey man of prison,” such an option does not amount to a fair choice. The requirement to pay service fees can, of course, be even more unjust if the individual cannot afford to pay or would be seriously harmed by diverting badly needed earnings to pay for probation purposes. While there are certainly legal safeguards against revoking the probation of indigents, such provisions, in themselves do not make the original issue of paying fees any more ethical. (2) To impose a probation sentence, but make it contingent upon paying service fees can be equally unjust, because it could lead to the imprisonment of low-risk criminals who cannot afford to pay and the release on probation of more dangerous offenders who can. (3) Because one of the prominent claims of probation is to create the opportunity for offenders to be gainfully employed so as to be able to pay their taxes, requiring a service fee—without which one’s opportunity to become gainfully employed may be seriously impaired— amounts to the imposition of a poll tax, a policy prohibited in all civilized laws. (4) If, hypothetically, all probationers decided not to pay service fees, the only alternative left for the state is to imprison them at a much greater cost to society than keeping them on probation at no cost. Would that be a rational or desirable choice by the state, especially given the astronomical rise in prison costs today? Electronic Monitoring Electronic monitoring in itself is an enforcement mechanism for the practice of house arrest, a form of intermediate punishment. As a result, an industry has developed to market monitoring devices. Obviously, none of the systems in use is foolproof; each has its share of failures, false alarms, and hidden costs. The presumption, however, is that these problems will be solved and the system will become reliable and affordable (Morris & Tonry, 1990:215). At present, there are three main systems of electronic monitoring: active, passive, and tracking. Active telecommunication systems consist of a small transmitter, strapped to the ankle or wrist of the offender, which emits a signal to a receiver-dialer unit connected by the offender’s telephone to a centrally located computer. Provided that the offender remains within a designated radius of the receiver-dialer, no interruption in the signal occurs. If there is an interruption, the receiver-dialer conveys this fact to the central computer. Such a signal is also transmitted if there is interference with the strap that attaches the transmitter to the offender. This system provides constant monitoring. Passive systems are slightly different, but are still based on the technology of connecting a telephone and a centrally located computer. Tracking systems are considerably different because they are built on radio technology that has been used to track wild and domestic animals. A transmitter worn by the offender emits a constant radio signal to a portable receiver in the monitoring officer’s car when he or she is sufficiently close to pick up the signal (at present, about a city block). The probation or parole officer can, at any time, locate the offender (Morris & Tonry, 1990:215). Several ethical concerns have been raised regarding electronic monitoring. They revolve around the issues of class bias and ability to pay for the service. The latter issue is similar to the requirement to pay probation fees, which has been discussed. The difficulty of paying service fees can, of course, be more severe in the case of electronic monitoring. Given the higher amortized cost for installing and maintaining such sophisticated equipment, not many offenders are in a position to meet such fees. This leaves us with the other major issue—class bias. The issue of class bias stems from the fact that for offenders to qualify for electronic monitoring, they must first have a home and a telephone; however, not every offender has both. This requirement unavoidably creates a tendency to apply house arrest and electronic monitoring to the more privileged and to deny it to the indigent. For example, all offenders, regardless of offense, who are homeless or staying at public shelters or cheap motels are prima facie ineligible. This is a striking violation of the basic principle of equality under the premises of social justice theory; “inequalities can only be accepted if in such a manner that offers the greatest benefit to the least advantaged” (Borchert & Stewart, 1986:303). Class bias is particularly worrisome because most electronic monitoring legislations do not define “a home.” Without a clear definition, electronic monitoring programs may raise serious constitutional concerns related to the provision of equal protection under the law. The Kentucky house arrest program is one that has defined what a “home” is for the purposes of electronic monitoring. The Kentucky legislation defines a “home” to include hospitals, hospices, nursing centers, halfway houses, group homes, and residential treatment centers. However, the enabling act does not include a single property in which more than one family, other than the offender’s, reside (Morris & Tonry, 1990:2). While this omission may not sound alarming, the question, in principle, may lead to a wider variety of inequities that may not be easy to explain or justify. Evidence of class bias has been apparent in the increased use of electronic monitoring for those convicted of driving under the influence of alcohol, a tendency resented by victim groups, such as Mothers Against Drunk Driving, who see it as both an insufficiently severe sanction and as a class-biased sanction (Morris & Tonry, 1990:218). Consider, for example, the 1988 case of John Zaccaro Jr., the son of former vice presidential candidate Geraldine Ferraro. He was sentenced to four months of house arrest for selling cocaine. He spent his sentence in his $1500-a month luxury apartment in Vermont, with maid service, cable TV, and other expensive amenities. Zaccaro’s prosecutor has reportedly observed, “This guy is a drug felon and he’s living in conditions that 99.9 percent of the people of Vermont couldn’t afford” (Schmalleger, 1995:394). The Severity View of von Hirsch This view is based on the assumption that community-based corrections—and probation in particular—may not be a benign, friendly, or ethical intermediate sentence, as is popularly thought. The punitive character of probation and parole is often less visible to those who espouse them. Because these sanctions are often packaged as more humane alternatives to the harsh sanction of imprisonment, the deviations they themselves cause are often overlooked. Von Hirsch comments, “Because the offender no longer has to suffer the pains of confinement, why cavil at the pains the new program makes him or her suffer in the community?” (von Hirsch, 1990:163). Von Hirsch raises three specific issues pertaining to the severity of community-based sentences: (1) proportionality or desert, (2) restrictions against humiliation and degradation, and (3) concerns for the intrusive nature of punishment upon the privacy of third persons. In the enthusiasm for community-based sanctions, von Hirsch argues that such issues have been easily overlooked. The following is a brief discussion of von Hirsch’s views. Proportionality and Desert According to von Hirsch, the proportionality of punishment (its level of severity or leniency) has been sacrificed in community-based corrections because such programs have principally been evaluated in terms of their effectiveness rather than fairness. If a program (for example, an intensive supervision scheme) seems to “work” in the sense that its participants have a low rate of recidivism, then it is said to be a “good” program (von Hirsch, 1990:163). Part of the attraction of these programs has been that their more punitive character gives them greater public credibility. Yet noncustodial measures, especially those pertaining to intensive supervision, home detention, and day fines, are also punishments that involve substantial deprivations, according to von Hirsch: Intensive supervision and home detention curtail an offender’s freedom of movement; a community-service program exacts enforced labor; and a day fine may inflict substantial economic losses. Advocates of community-based corrections seem to overlook the fact that many offenses committed by those under supervision are not serious enough to make the sanctions proportional in response. In a sense, von Hirsch seems to imply a hypocritical streak—if not an outright deception—on the part of community-based enthusiasts. He states, “Intensive supervision programs tend to be applied to offenders convicted of the least serious felonies because program organizers feel that such persons would be more likely to cooperate” (1990:164). Some sanctions, remarks von Hirsch, are nevertheless quite severe, given the low level of seriousness of the crime committed. Restrictions Against Humiliation and Degradation In his examination of what constitutes “dignified treatment” of offenders, von Hirsch reiterates several of the previously mentioned themes in this chapter. (1) Punishment is unjust if it is of such a nature as to be degrading or dehumanizing in terms of its intrusion on the individual under supervision. (2) Intrusion depends not on technology, but on the extent to which the practice affects the dignity and privacy of those intruded upon. For instance, frequent unannounced home visits may be much more disturbing than an electronic telephone monitor that verifies the offender’s presence. (3) Legal intrusion (in accordance with constitutional provisions) may not meet the minimum obligations of community-based personnel to treat offenders with dignity. Convicted felons, adds von Hirsch, are still members of the moral community and should be treated as such. (4) Enforcement sanctions that are grossly humiliating should be ruled out, because justifying indignity on the basis of creating (or reinforcing) a non-custodial sanction with a “punitive bite” is ethically unjustifiable. Implications Concerning the Privacy of Third Parties Because community-based corrections places the offender into settings in which others live, the offender’s punishment spills over into the lives of others. Von Hirsch suggests that concern for the privacy of others has been grossly overlooked. He points out, for example, that home visits may be potentially shaming to the offender, in part because of the presence of unconvicted third-party witnesses. Such visits could affect those witnesses, diminishing their own sense of privacy. Von Hirsch proposes that community-based corrections personnel should be sensitive to these dangers and earnestly attempt to reduce their adverse impact. Toward that end, he suggests that because the impact on third persons can be so critical, probation officers—in choosing among noncustodial penalties—should be extremely cognizant of the need to ameliorate such embarrassments (1990:171). The very notions raised by von Hirsch bring us back to the imperative of ethics in the treatment of offenders, whether in prison or in the community. This imperative should be universally accepted because (1) regardless of how we view offenders, human beings should be treated with dignity—it is the law of nature that preceded the human existence; (2) regardless of how we view offenders, inequitable treatment is inconsistent with constitutional law and the spirit of justice; (3) regardless of how we view offenders, it is in the interest of a civilized society to treat people with decency, especially in light of the doctrine of “we are all doing time”; (4) regardless of how we view offenders, carrying out the ethical imperative can purify our souls and realize our yearning for a more peaceful society; and (5) regardless of how we view offenders, extending goodness to others can also bring us more into God’s grace. Work Strategies of Probation and Parole Practitioners Given their professional orientation, the complexity of their work environment, and their career challenges, probation and parole officers engage in and pursue numerous work strategies. Abadinsky (1991) cites a variety of such strategies. The following are among the more significant strategies: Detection. This strategy involves identifying when a client is at risk or when the community is at risk. It serves three basic objectives: (1) identifying the individuals who are experiencing difficulty or who are in danger of becoming a risk to the community; (2) identifying conditions in the community that may contribute to the client’s personal problems (for example, lack of jobs, lack of training, availability of drugs); and (3) determining whether the community is at risk from the probationer or parolee and taking steps to protect the community. Brokering. This strategy seeks to steer clients to existing services that can be beneficial to them. The essential benefit of this strategy is the physical hookup of the client with the source of help. Examples include locating a job or a training facility where a client can be educated or retrained. Advocating. This strategy attempts to fight for the rights and dignity of clients who need help. The key assumption in this strategy is that there will be instances in which practices, regulations, and general conditions prevent clients from receiving services or obtaining assistance. Advocacy aims at removing the obstacles that prevent clients from exercising their rights and receiving available resources. Examples include advocacy on the part of the Parole Officers’ Association in New York to change restrictions on parolees who need to operate a motor vehicle in order to pursue legitimate employment needs. Mediating. This strategy seeks to mediate between clients and resource systems. The key assumption is that problems exist neither within people nor within resource systems, but rather in the interaction between people and resource systems. As opposed to the advocate role, the mediator’s stance is one of neutrality. Enabling. This strategy seeks to provide support and facilitate change in the client’s behavior patterns, habits, and perceptions. The key assumption is that problems may be alleviated and crises prevented by modifying, adding, or extinguishing discrete bits of behavior by increasing insights or by changing the client’s values and attitudes. Educating. This strategy involves conveying and imparting information and knowledge as well as developing various skills. A great deal of what has been called “social casework” or “therapy” is simple instruction. Community planning. This strategy entails participating in and assisting neighborhood planning groups, agencies, community agents, or governments in the development of community programs to assure that client needs are represented and met to the greatest extent feasible. Enforcing. This strategy requires the officer to use the authority of his or her office to revoke the probationer/parolee’s standing due to changes in status quo, which involves heightened community or client risk outside the control of the officer. Common Unethical Practices in Probation/Parole The following is a listing of unethical practices common to probation and parole agencies. The term common does not mean that the practice happens every day in any given department; it simply means that it is identifiable within probation and parole agencies. Officers may never violate such practices, yet they are familiar with them once they are mentioned. Adjusting numbers on assessment instruments that would reduce a probation or parole officer’s workload. Officers, especially those who have exceptionally high caseloads, may finagle to reduce the frequency of contacts they have with the probationers or parolees assigned to them. They may justify such reduction by indicating that the supervisee has “cleaned up his/her act,” has become “less of a risk to society,” or has been “making progress” while indeed he or she has not. If such a recommendation is made on the basis of knowledge and good faith, it would be considered ethical. If, on the other hand, it is made for the selfish purpose of working less, it should be considered unethical. Not making field visits and claiming that they were made. This practice is one of the more infamous ones. It institutionalizes the practice of lying and deception; it encourages the supervisee to violate his or her supervision contract; it increases the supervisee’s risk to society; and it sets an unethical example to junior officers who may be watching their seniors’ “modus operandi.” Claiming mileage on personal vehicles that are not driven for business purposes. This practice compounds the previous one by adding theft to the other unethical actions. Taking care of private business during work hours under the pretense of making field contacts with probationers or parolees. In this case, officers may use agency time for getting a haircut, shopping or returning merchandise, getting their car fixed, or simply playing golf. This practice adds another vice—service betrayal. Having a relationship with a probationer or a parolee, or with someone related to them. In this case, the officer may have a sexual relationship with a supervisee or one of his or her relatives or friends, or a business relationship by which the supervisee (or one of his or her relatives) may be asked to paint the officer’s house, build furniture, or fix the plumbing. In the first case, the officer could be accused of sexual harassment or sexual assault; in the latter cases, the officer could be accused of theft of services, in addition to violating the principles of the agency’s code of ethics. Discriminating against supervisees on the basis of gender, color, race, or age. In this case, the officer not only violates the ethical principles of fairness, equality, and decency, but he or she may also violate the Fourteenth Amendment, as well as the civil rights of the supervisee. Revealing confidential information regarding the history or status of offenders. This may be one of the more common violations, and is usually caused by egoism and abusing one’s authority. Officers violate the rules of confidentiality to appear important, in return for other information, or to intentionally make the supervisee “look bad.” Regardless of the reason, this behavior may not only violate the ethical principles of fidelity and obligation, but also the state penal code. Ethical Choices in Probation/Parole Based on the work strategies and unethical situations mentioned previously, some questions must be raised: “What are professional probation and parole officers expected to do? How can they maximize goodness and minimize social harm?” In answering these questions, four typologies of probation and parole officers may be explored, each emphasizing an ethical view or a cluster of views (Abadinsky, 1991:305). These typologies cannot be taken in an absolute manner. Probation and parole officers may fit one type or another. Furthermore, practitioners within a given type may not always practice uniformly; some of them may be more knowledgeable (Platonian), more compassionate (Epicurean), more duty-bound (Kantian), more religious (Augustinian), more democratic (Jeffersonian), or simply more gentlemanly (Aristotelian). Nevertheless, these typologies have been widely recognized for their consistency. The Punitive/Law Enforcement Practitioner Practitioners of this type see the summum bonum of community corrections as serving the interests of the community. Any other interest can, and must, be sacrificed. This model underscores a dogmatic utilitarian view that seeks to maximize “goodness” through serving the largest number of benefactors—the community. Toward achieving this goal, anything goes, including the welfare of the probationer, her family, her career, and her destiny. In this model, control of the supervisee is viewed as the main purpose, and the strategy of enforcement is the chief tool. All rules and regulations are enforced to the letter, including surveillance, checks for drug use, intimidation, and a detective-like enforcement style. The practitioner of this type is generally characterized by depersonalization and extreme detachment. Contacts with the individual are frequent, formal, short, and abrupt. Concerns for the family welfare of the supervisee are unimportant, and whether the supervisee “makes it” or returns to prison is irrelevant. A hedonistic streak may also appear in this type—an overemphasis on efficiency as a tool for securing a promotion or career advancement. In this model, recognition of the “true” purpose of supervision, of the obligation to assist a fellow human being in distress, or of fidelity to the ethics of treatment are all but ignored. An excellent example of this type of ethics is the case of Captain Balian, noted in Chapter 2. The Welfare/Therapeutic Practitioner Practitioners of this type see the summum bonum of community corrections as rehabilitating the individual supervisee. Of primary concern is the welfare of the individual, even if it violates the conditions of supervision or the popular interests of the community. For this practitioner, emphasis is placed on advocating, brokering, educating, enabling, and mediating. The practitioner recognizes the relationship with the individual as a “clientship,” rehabilitation as a therapeutic treatment, and the client’s needs as preeminent. Of paramount concern is providing the client with adequate employment, housing, and psychological assistance, among other support services. Clients are treated with dignity, fairness, openness, and personal sympathy. A streak of religiosity may also pervade this type of practitioner, making his or her role rather missionary in nature. They may invite the individual into their homes or volunteer to pay for the cost of schooling his or her children. While this model may be hailed for its ethical overtones, it can be criticized for its lack of moderation—extreme affection for the client combined with neglect of the broader interests of society. Another criticism of this type may be the practitioner’s limited knowledge of behavior modification methods, leading overzealous practitioners to cause more psychological harm to the client than originally intended (Abadinsky, 1991:307). Finally, there is also the danger of becoming too personally involved with the client, a situation that may lead to considerable disappointment on the part of the officer if he or she fails in rehabilitating the supervisee. The Passive/Time-Server Practitioner Practitioners of this type see the summum bonum of community corrections as inactivity and avoidance. They have minimal concern for either the welfare of the community or that of the client. They adhere to the serviceable model of management and practice double bookkeeping each time it is necessary. They see their work as meaningless and requiring no ethical attention. Many such practitioners are political opportunists who fail to see the truth of the community-service ideal, are burned-out employees who await retirement, or are simply amoral creatures. The Combined Model Practitioner Practitioners of this type see the summum bonum of community corrections as moderation between the welfare of the supervisee and protection of the community. Focus in this model is placed on the provision of social and therapeutic services to the client, while attending to the control functions. The practitioners in this category integrate their community protection role with the enforcement role, while maintaining the flexibility to use one more than the other in an individualized response to each case. They adapt work strategies that are useful while sacrificing others, sometimes cynically, on the altar of reality (Abadinsky, 1991:306). Practitioners of this type are loyal to the humanitarian model of community corrections. Their decisions are usually based on balancing the interests of “community” and those of “corrections.” For that reason, they are considered experts in a vast range of human problems far beyond the possibilities of ordinary competence. Their role is often seen as “Solo-monian” (after Solomon, the prophet of the Old Testament who threatened to cut a baby in half to determine who the child’s mother was). These practitioners are also “Aristotelian,” in terms of being rational and consistent, yet practical. When endowed with goodness and morality, an appreciation for social justice, and inspired by good faith, these practitioners may be the most ethical practitioners (remember Maslow’s profile of the ethical person). Most probation and parole agencies fall somewhere between the combined and therapeutic models, with parole departments leaning more toward the combined model and probation departments leaning more toward the therapeutic model (Abadinsky, 1991:306). Ethical probation and parole managers cannot overlook the damage that unethical practitioners can inflict upon their agency. Intensive yet sincere efforts are therefore essential for reclaiming these practitioners, and motivation and education— or otherwise termination—should be considered viable options. Termination, however, should be a matter of last resort. Cumbersome and undesirable as it may be, it might, in the long range, be the most ethical way to better serve the interests of the community as well as those of the clients. Review Questions Compare the professional orientation of probation officers to that of police officers. Why are probation officers considered to have a higher level of professionalism? Define the “borderless community” of probation and parole officers. Why is it considered “borderless?” Discuss the politicization of parole agencies as described by Friel. What are the main reasons for that state as opposed to other agencies of criminal justice? What is the “yellow wind?” What was its effect on the state of parole agencies in recent years? Identify and discuss the main benefits of community-based corrections. Do you agree that these are benefits? If not, why? Identify and discuss the basic views that oppose community-based corrections. Explain the theory and practice of intensive probation. In what sense is it different from standard probation? What is electronic monitoring? How many kinds are presently in use, and how do they differ? Explain the argument that electronic monitoring involves an inherent class bias. How could this bias be ameliorated? Identify and explain five of the work strategies common in probation and parole practice. References Abadinsky, H. 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O., & Brown, E. D. (Eds.) (1979). The rehabilitation of criminal offenders: Problems and prospects. Washington, DC: National Academy of Sciences. Souryal, S. S. (1996). Probation as good faith. Federal Probation, 60(4), 5. Stojkovic, S., Klofas, J., & Kalinich, D. (1990). The administration and management of criminal justice organizations. Prospect Heights, IL: Waveland Press, Inc. Travis, L. F., III, Schwartz, M. D., & Clear, T. R. (1983). Corrections: An issues approach (2nd ed.). Cincinnati: Anderson Publishing Co. von Hirsch, A. (1990). The ethics of community-based sanctions. Crime & Delinquency, 36(1), 162–173. Walker, S. (1989). Sense and nonsense about crime: A policy guide (2nd ed.). Pacific Grove, CA: Brooks/Cole Publishing. Whitehead, J. T. (1989). Burnout in probation and corrections. 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