As a senior circuit judge, I have the opportunity, if I wish, to substitute in court from time to time. Because of other projects, I rarely do. But a “plea” from a former colleague induced me to spend 2 days in what is called VOP court or Violation of Probation Court. Friendship has its downside!
VOP court is a grind. Every revocation case has time standards and it is up to the judge to consider each case carefully, yet dispose of it in an expeditious manner. Prisoners stack up like departing airplanes. In order to speed along the process, I review the facts of the violation, and offer an advisory opinion as to disposition of the case. In other words, I let the defendant and lawyer know up-front what would happen if he/she admitted the violation, rather than scheduled a hearing.
As people know, most criminal cases are disposed by plea agreement. Although there has been criticism about our draconian sentences; in fact, cases usually score to probation, based upon a Florida Supreme Court mandated score sheet. Certainly serious crimes such as rape, robbery, murder do not score to probation, but defendants who plead to property crimes typically do. However, when you are dealing with a basically non-rule following group, a probation sentence simply delays the inevitable. Most people on probation eventually get sent to state prison.
In addition, the system itself builds in failure. Court costs for various entities plus monthly costs of supervision can lead to amounts in excess of $1000.00. Then, if an offender owes restitution, the amount is even higher. Certainly, a victim should be made whole if at all possible. But the probation system has a few vagaries. For example, say you, as an auto theft victim still are out of pocket by $400.00 as a result of the crime. The defendant agrees to pay restitution as a condition of probation, added to the other costs. Under the usual format, the probation office and the court system would first collect their costs. Only then would the restitution amount be repaid to you. By that time, most defendants have been violated.
So, probation is difficult for most offenders, but when a defendant has mental health issues, probation is almost insurmountable. Defendants can have mental problems, yet be competent to enter pleas. The problem becomes: they score to probation, they are competent to enter a plea, but they have an even greater hurdle than the average defendant in successfully completing probation.
One case from this last week especially stood out. As a condition of probation, a bipolar defendant had been ordered to follow through with mental health treatment. He was charged a nominal fee for his treatment, but was behind on payment of those fees, so he was discharged from the program and violated by his probation officer. The defendant claimed that he was unable to pay the fees due to his minimal income, which barely covered his living expenses. At the court hearing, his mother appeared and said he could live with her. I thought that this could be a solution. He could live with Mom, use his $700/month disability check to at least pay for the mental health treatment at $40/month, and have the support of a parent on site. Turns out Mom wanted him home because she needed the check since her disability checks had not started to arrive. Apparently, Mom had her own mental health issues. This was one of those moments in court that I describe as a head slapper. At least, I was able to convert his court costs to a lien, and waive the charge for outpatient treatment, which alleviated the potential for new violations. But with his mental health issues and Mom’s, I don’t hold any hope for success.
Unfortunately, prison has become a dumping ground for people like this. Not that they haven’t committed crimes, but many are self-medicating and are caught with drugs, or are charged with non-violent offenses. An article in USA Today pinpointed the problem: the criminal justice system has become the de facto caretaker of Americans who are mentally ill and emotionally disturbed. According to a 2006 Justice Department analysis (the most recent one), about 1.2 million people in state and federal custody report some kind of mental health problem (USA Today, July 22, 2014).
Granted, sometimes prisoners report mental or physical health problems because they want to be transferred to better accommodations. “Better” is, of course, relative in this situation. Even allowing for that, there still are many inmates with bona fide mental health diseases. Treatment at the local level is almost non-existent, since the defendants in county jails are either awaiting disposition of a serious charge, which likely would result in state prison time or serving a sentence of less than 1 year.
The influx of mentally ill defendants to the criminal justice system greatly increased after public policy moved towards deinstitutionalization. To me, it is ironic that the de-institutionalization of state hospitals has caused an even greater problem: the warehousing of the mentally ill in prisons. The original intent behind the closing of state hospitals was to have community mental health centers. That never happened. However, just because it hasn’t happened, doesn’t mean that it can’t. Perhaps now is the time to try.