Saturday, August 19, 2017

The secret, dangerous world of private prisons



The private prison industry is booming, and Trump will keep it that way. In one of his first acts on the job, Attorney General Jeff Sessions immediately rescinded an Obama administration order to phase-out the use of private prisons altogether.

Not surprisingly, the stock prices of for-profit prison corporations have soared since the order was revoked. One company (The GEO Group, which operates 64 prisons across the country) has already scored $774 million worth of federal contracts this year.

The Obama administration wanted to close private prisons for a reason. The Justice Department's inspector general found that privately-run facilities are far less safe than those operated by the federal Bureau of Prisons. For example, private prisons have higher rates of violence and limited access to health care.

In reversing Obama's decision, the Trump administration has once again embraced the idea that private prisons are more efficient.

Rubbish. The so-called “market” for private prisons is an utter fallacy. Prisoners aren't consumers who can switch facilities when the service is lousy. Nor do taxpayers have enough information on how inmates are treated to affect outcomes. Private prisons only create incentives to put more people behind bars.

Sessions is proving he’s every bit as awful as we had expected, once again dragging the country backwards. We must close these facilities and end mass incarceration.

For example, “Louisiana is the world's prison capital. The state imprisons more of its people, per head, than any of its U.S. counterparts. First among Americans means first in the world. Louisiana's incarceration rate is nearly five times Iran's, 13 times China's and 20 times Germany's.

The hidden engine behind the state's well-oiled prison machine is cold, hard cash. A majority of Louisiana inmates are housed in for-profit facilities, which must be supplied with a constant influx of human beings or a $182 million industry will go bankrupt.

Several homegrown private prison companies command a slice of the market. But in a uniquely Louisiana twist, most prison entrepreneurs are rural sheriffs, who hold tremendous sway in remote parishes like Madison, Avoyelles, East Carroll and Concordia. A good portion of Louisiana law enforcement is financed with dollars legally skimmed off the top of prison operations.

If the inmate count dips, sheriffs bleed money. Their constituents lose jobs. The prison lobby ensures this does not happen by thwarting nearly every reform that could result in fewer people behind bars.

Meanwhile, inmates subsist in bare-bones conditions with few programs to give them a better shot at becoming productive citizens. Each inmate is worth $24.39 a day in state money, and sheriffs trade them like horses, unloading a few extras on a colleague who has openings. A prison system that leased its convicts as plantation labor in the 1800s has come full circle and is again a nexus for profit, according to Nola.


By David Gambacorta