This is a very surprising article. Not a bad read at all...
Cliffs notes. A Republican and Democrat in the Texas Legislature have been working together to reduce the cost of our prison system. They have reduced the prison population to the point that Texas has CLOSED three prisons in the last few years.
It doesn't read like they are going soft on crime but instead working on actually reforming the prisoner. Most have drug issues so they are trying to actually treat the drug addiction that is the core issue of the prisoners problems. They have successfully reduced recidivism. They have also done it for a fraction of what it would cost to build new prisons...
The article takes it jabs at Rick Perry too. Perry jumped on the Prison Reform bandwagon at CPAC. The article makes him look like an opportunist. Which, let's be realistic, all politicians are that..
Cliffs notes. A Republican and Democrat in the Texas Legislature have been working together to reduce the cost of our prison system. They have reduced the prison population to the point that Texas has CLOSED three prisons in the last few years.
It doesn't read like they are going soft on crime but instead working on actually reforming the prisoner. Most have drug issues so they are trying to actually treat the drug addiction that is the core issue of the prisoners problems. They have successfully reduced recidivism. They have also done it for a fraction of what it would cost to build new prisons...
The article takes it jabs at Rick Perry too. Perry jumped on the Prison Reform bandwagon at CPAC. The article makes him look like an opportunist. Which, let's be realistic, all politicians are that..
As he creeps back onto the national stage, Perry—who has overseen the executions of 268 people—more executions than any other governor in United States history—has brought with him an unlikely Lone Star State success story: prison reform.
In Texas, funneling money to special courts (like drug courts or prostitution courts), rehabilitation, and probation in an effort to make sure current offenders don’t reoffend, instead of continuing to make room for more prisoners, has resulted in billions saved and dramatically lower crime rates. In just the last three years, Texas has shut down three prisons.
The conservative movement to reform prisons is not new. Republican governors in Georgia, Louisiana, Indiana, and Ohio have all made efforts in recent years to address growing incarceration rates. But it has largely remained on the periphery of the mainstream—the stuff of columns and local reports that do nothing to sway the general public.
That very well might be changing now that it appears it could be a series of talking points for a mainstream Republican presidential prospect.
But prison reform in Texas has been a long time in the making, and despite what it sounds like, Perry was not the one leading the way.
The Dean of the Texas State Senate, John Whitmire, is one of the architects of prison reform in the state. “It’s kind of strange to hear him,” he said to me of Perry’s prison-reform talk on the national stage. “I don’t know what his agenda is.”
***
John Whitmire entered the Texas House of Representatives in 1972 as a 22-year-old dropout from the University of Houston (he went on to graduate and go to law school). Whitmire, a Democrat who says things like “I’m not some old cracker” and was once alleged to have gotten a bartender fired for not serving him a second scotch while he was drunk, had an encounter with a criminal that would change Texas forever.
In his deep drawl, Whitmire recalled being with his wife and 9-year-old daughter when they “pulled in our garage on New Year’s Eve in ‘92.” Then, “my wife screamed.”
“I was getting out of the front of the car, and she was getting the dishes out of the back of the car, and she let out this blood curdling, gurgling scream.” He raised his voice an octave, “‘Oh, no, no!’
“I ran the length of the car, and the guy put the gun in my face.
“He was doing that for his drug habit… He got 25 years for holding me up; he ended up doing 12 of them… As I look back, I think that had a profound impression on me.
It appears Rick Perry is going to run for president again in 2016.
A guard on duty at the Robertson Unit maximum security prison facility opens the main entry gate on January 11, 2006 in Abilene, Texas. (Robert Nickelsberg/Getty, Steve Pope)
Perry, 65, will leave the governor’s office next January after serving for 14 years, beginning in 2000, when George W. Bush resigned to prepare for the presidency. In recent months, Perry has appeared in both Iowa and South Carolina. At South by South West in Austin last month, Perry told Jimmy Kimmel “America is a great place for second chances.”
As he creeps back onto the national stage, Perry—who has overseen the executions of 268 people—more executions than any other governor in United States history—has brought with him an unlikely Lone Star State success story: prison reform.
In Texas, funneling money to special courts (like drug courts or prostitution courts), rehabilitation, and probation in an effort to make sure current offenders don’t reoffend, instead of continuing to make room for more prisoners, has resulted in billions saved and dramatically lower crime rates. In just the last three years, Texas has shut down three prisons.
The conservative movement to reform prisons is not new. Republican governors in Georgia, Louisiana, Indiana, and Ohio have all made efforts in recent years to address growing incarceration rates. But it has largely remained on the periphery of the mainstream—the stuff of columns and local reports that do nothing to sway the general public.
That very well might be changing now that it appears it could be a series of talking points for a mainstream Republican presidential prospect.
But prison reform in Texas has been a long time in the making, and despite what it sounds like, Perry was not the one leading the way.
The Dean of the Texas State Senate, John Whitmire, is one of the architects of prison reform in the state. “It’s kind of strange to hear him,” he said to me of Perry’s prison-reform talk on the national stage. “I don’t know what his agenda is.”
***
John Whitmire entered the Texas House of Representatives in 1972 as a 22-year-old dropout from the University of Houston (he went on to graduate and go to law school). Whitmire, a Democrat who says things like “I’m not some old cracker” and was once alleged to have gotten a bartender fired for not serving him a second scotch while he was drunk, had an encounter with a criminal that would change Texas forever.
In his deep drawl, Whitmire recalled being with his wife and 9-year-old daughter when they “pulled in our garage on New Year’s Eve in ‘92.” Then, “my wife screamed.”
“I was getting out of the front of the car, and she was getting the dishes out of the back of the car, and she let out this blood curdling, gurgling scream.” He raised his voice an octave, “‘Oh, no, no!’
“I ran the length of the car, and the guy put the gun in my face.
“He was doing that for his drug habit… He got 25 years for holding me up; he ended up doing 12 of them… As I look back, I think that had a profound impression on me.
“Of course, I still think about it every night I pull in my garage. I always look around,” he laughed.
In 1993, with Ann Richards as governor, Whitmire, who is today the longest-serving member of the Texas State Senate, was asked by Lt. Gov. Bob Bullock to join the criminal justice committee as chairman.
The appointment couldn’t have come at a more perfect time for Whitmire. “It only makes sense to me that if you lock somebody up for armed robbery because they’re supporting their drug habit, hopefully you get rid of their drug habit before you let them out… I was very motivated to fix the problem of bad guys robbing you in your garage for drug money,” he told me, although he still had some reservations.
When he assumed the chairmanship, Texas prisons “had a revolving door. We had been caught off guard, or by surprise, by the influx of crack cocaine. It was kind of a phenomenon that overtook the country.”
In the early 1980s, an oversupply of cocaine powder in the Dominican Republic and Bahamas caused the price of the drug to drop by 80 percent. Dealers in America responded by a selling solid, smokable form of cocaine—crack—in small quantities for as little as $2.50. By the mid-’80s, the cheap drug had spread like wildfire, and crime—particularly violent crime—rose sharply.
From 1985 to 2005, the number of prisoners in Texas increased threefold, to 152,000 from 37,281, giving Texas the second-highest incarceration rate in the country.
“In ‘93, we had 60,000 inmates in our prison system and 30,000 were backed up in the county jails, sleeping on the floor,” Whitmire recalled. There were too many criminals and not enough space, so “you only served about one month for every year that you were sentenced.”
During his first few years as chairman, Whitmire said, “I kind of surrounded myself with a lot of smart people. Prosecutors, judges, crime victims, defense attorneys. The first thing we did—we came up with state jails. We needed some capacity real quick. State jails were for low-level offenders, [and they are] heavy on rehabilitation. We built about 14,000 of them, and [they took] care of our nonviolent offenders,” leaving room for violent offenders in maximum-security prisons.
The progress Whitmire and the committee was making came to a screeching halt when George W. Bush became governor in 1995. Bush, a recovered alcoholic, didn’t believe that money should be going to rehabilitate addicted criminals. “[He] came along… and said ‘we don’t need that because I quit drinking on my own,’ which honestly was foolish, because he didn’t have that bad a drinking problem or he wouldn’t have been able to stop on his own. He started cutting back on some of our treatments.” During his governorship, Bush oversaw the construction of 38 prisons.
Bush Lt. Gov. Rick Perry, formerly a Democrat who served as a state representative, assumed the governorship in 2000, but Whitmire’s luck still didn’t improve. As late as 2003, he told me, his efforts were being undermined by budget cuts, which slashed rehabilitation funding.
It would take Whitmire joining forces with an unlikely friend for the Texas criminal justice system to change.
***
In Texas, funneling money to special courts (like drug courts or prostitution courts), rehabilitation, and probation in an effort to make sure current offenders don’t reoffend, instead of continuing to make room for more prisoners, has resulted in billions saved and dramatically lower crime rates. In just the last three years, Texas has shut down three prisons.
The conservative movement to reform prisons is not new. Republican governors in Georgia, Louisiana, Indiana, and Ohio have all made efforts in recent years to address growing incarceration rates. But it has largely remained on the periphery of the mainstream—the stuff of columns and local reports that do nothing to sway the general public.
That very well might be changing now that it appears it could be a series of talking points for a mainstream Republican presidential prospect.
But prison reform in Texas has been a long time in the making, and despite what it sounds like, Perry was not the one leading the way.
The Dean of the Texas State Senate, John Whitmire, is one of the architects of prison reform in the state. “It’s kind of strange to hear him,” he said to me of Perry’s prison-reform talk on the national stage. “I don’t know what his agenda is.”
***
John Whitmire entered the Texas House of Representatives in 1972 as a 22-year-old dropout from the University of Houston (he went on to graduate and go to law school). Whitmire, a Democrat who says things like “I’m not some old cracker” and was once alleged to have gotten a bartender fired for not serving him a second scotch while he was drunk, had an encounter with a criminal that would change Texas forever.
In his deep drawl, Whitmire recalled being with his wife and 9-year-old daughter when they “pulled in our garage on New Year’s Eve in ‘92.” Then, “my wife screamed.”
“I was getting out of the front of the car, and she was getting the dishes out of the back of the car, and she let out this blood curdling, gurgling scream.” He raised his voice an octave, “‘Oh, no, no!’
“I ran the length of the car, and the guy put the gun in my face.
“He was doing that for his drug habit… He got 25 years for holding me up; he ended up doing 12 of them… As I look back, I think that had a profound impression on me.
It appears Rick Perry is going to run for president again in 2016.
A guard on duty at the Robertson Unit maximum security prison facility opens the main entry gate on January 11, 2006 in Abilene, Texas. (Robert Nickelsberg/Getty, Steve Pope)
Perry, 65, will leave the governor’s office next January after serving for 14 years, beginning in 2000, when George W. Bush resigned to prepare for the presidency. In recent months, Perry has appeared in both Iowa and South Carolina. At South by South West in Austin last month, Perry told Jimmy Kimmel “America is a great place for second chances.”
As he creeps back onto the national stage, Perry—who has overseen the executions of 268 people—more executions than any other governor in United States history—has brought with him an unlikely Lone Star State success story: prison reform.
In Texas, funneling money to special courts (like drug courts or prostitution courts), rehabilitation, and probation in an effort to make sure current offenders don’t reoffend, instead of continuing to make room for more prisoners, has resulted in billions saved and dramatically lower crime rates. In just the last three years, Texas has shut down three prisons.
The conservative movement to reform prisons is not new. Republican governors in Georgia, Louisiana, Indiana, and Ohio have all made efforts in recent years to address growing incarceration rates. But it has largely remained on the periphery of the mainstream—the stuff of columns and local reports that do nothing to sway the general public.
That very well might be changing now that it appears it could be a series of talking points for a mainstream Republican presidential prospect.
But prison reform in Texas has been a long time in the making, and despite what it sounds like, Perry was not the one leading the way.
The Dean of the Texas State Senate, John Whitmire, is one of the architects of prison reform in the state. “It’s kind of strange to hear him,” he said to me of Perry’s prison-reform talk on the national stage. “I don’t know what his agenda is.”
***
John Whitmire entered the Texas House of Representatives in 1972 as a 22-year-old dropout from the University of Houston (he went on to graduate and go to law school). Whitmire, a Democrat who says things like “I’m not some old cracker” and was once alleged to have gotten a bartender fired for not serving him a second scotch while he was drunk, had an encounter with a criminal that would change Texas forever.
In his deep drawl, Whitmire recalled being with his wife and 9-year-old daughter when they “pulled in our garage on New Year’s Eve in ‘92.” Then, “my wife screamed.”
“I was getting out of the front of the car, and she was getting the dishes out of the back of the car, and she let out this blood curdling, gurgling scream.” He raised his voice an octave, “‘Oh, no, no!’
“I ran the length of the car, and the guy put the gun in my face.
“He was doing that for his drug habit… He got 25 years for holding me up; he ended up doing 12 of them… As I look back, I think that had a profound impression on me.
“Of course, I still think about it every night I pull in my garage. I always look around,” he laughed.
In 1993, with Ann Richards as governor, Whitmire, who is today the longest-serving member of the Texas State Senate, was asked by Lt. Gov. Bob Bullock to join the criminal justice committee as chairman.
The appointment couldn’t have come at a more perfect time for Whitmire. “It only makes sense to me that if you lock somebody up for armed robbery because they’re supporting their drug habit, hopefully you get rid of their drug habit before you let them out… I was very motivated to fix the problem of bad guys robbing you in your garage for drug money,” he told me, although he still had some reservations.
When he assumed the chairmanship, Texas prisons “had a revolving door. We had been caught off guard, or by surprise, by the influx of crack cocaine. It was kind of a phenomenon that overtook the country.”
In the early 1980s, an oversupply of cocaine powder in the Dominican Republic and Bahamas caused the price of the drug to drop by 80 percent. Dealers in America responded by a selling solid, smokable form of cocaine—crack—in small quantities for as little as $2.50. By the mid-’80s, the cheap drug had spread like wildfire, and crime—particularly violent crime—rose sharply.
From 1985 to 2005, the number of prisoners in Texas increased threefold, to 152,000 from 37,281, giving Texas the second-highest incarceration rate in the country.
“In ‘93, we had 60,000 inmates in our prison system and 30,000 were backed up in the county jails, sleeping on the floor,” Whitmire recalled. There were too many criminals and not enough space, so “you only served about one month for every year that you were sentenced.”
During his first few years as chairman, Whitmire said, “I kind of surrounded myself with a lot of smart people. Prosecutors, judges, crime victims, defense attorneys. The first thing we did—we came up with state jails. We needed some capacity real quick. State jails were for low-level offenders, [and they are] heavy on rehabilitation. We built about 14,000 of them, and [they took] care of our nonviolent offenders,” leaving room for violent offenders in maximum-security prisons.
The progress Whitmire and the committee was making came to a screeching halt when George W. Bush became governor in 1995. Bush, a recovered alcoholic, didn’t believe that money should be going to rehabilitate addicted criminals. “[He] came along… and said ‘we don’t need that because I quit drinking on my own,’ which honestly was foolish, because he didn’t have that bad a drinking problem or he wouldn’t have been able to stop on his own. He started cutting back on some of our treatments.” During his governorship, Bush oversaw the construction of 38 prisons.
Bush Lt. Gov. Rick Perry, formerly a Democrat who served as a state representative, assumed the governorship in 2000, but Whitmire’s luck still didn’t improve. As late as 2003, he told me, his efforts were being undermined by budget cuts, which slashed rehabilitation funding.
It would take Whitmire joining forces with an unlikely friend for the Texas criminal justice system to change.
***
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