We must put compassion in parole decisions

People often think mass incarceration is the result of a few laws — the federal 1994 crime bill or state-level Rockefeller Drug laws, for example — but in reality it’s driven by everyday decisions, small and large, made by actors across the justice system, including some you’ve probably never heard of. For example, in many states, Parole Board commissioners have the power to keep thousands of people in prison for decades beyond their minimum sentences — even until their death. Too often, they use it.

Decades of extremely harsh sentencing coupled with a racially biased parole system that values vengeance and perpetual punishment over redemption and transformation have plunged New York State prisons into a morass of aging, sickness, and death. Even as the total number of people in prison has declined, the incarcerated population over 50 has dramatically increased. A New Yorker dies in a state prison more than once every three days, a phenomenon that academics have called New York’s new death penalty.

I joined New York’s Parole Board with hopes of helping give people who have transformed their lives an opportunity to move beyond the worst thing they had ever done. The Parole Board is tasked with evaluating people’s readiness for release after having served their minimum sentence. Instead, I witnessed many deserving people kept well beyond just sentencing, preventing them from returning home as an inspiration to their communities and a support for their families. I left in frustration after two years.

I understand what victimization feels like. My mother was crushed by a drunk driver when I was five years old. But I was raised to believe in redemption, a family value that has informed my life’s work, which includes finding alternative solutions beyond keeping a person in prison forever that more effectively help heal the pain that violence unleashes.

Under current law, many people in prison have no pathway whatsoever to even be considered for release, regardless of the extent of their rehabilitation and, in many cases, the work they have done to improve public safety, like leading victim awareness and anti-violence programs. Many were young at the time of their offense — even teenagers — and now are in their 50s, 60s, or even 70s. Some are eligible for parole, yet current parole practices leave them little or no hope of getting approved. Specifically, the Board routinely denies release to people based on the one thing they can never change: the nature of the offense for which they were convicted, disregarding how much they have transformed in the decades since the crime occurred.

Unless we reverse course, more and more of the country’s geriatric population will languish in prisons — with substandard health care that, in some facilities, is literally administered by veterinarians.

New York can reform parole by passing the Fair and Timely Parole Act to restore the Parole Board to its original purpose of evaluating people’s readiness for release, based on who they are today, what they have done to change, and their current risk of violating the law. The Board would still consider victim impact statements, of course. Common sense, right?

A second bill, Elder Parole, would allow certain older adults in prison — those who have served at least 15 consecutive years of their current sentence — to be eligible for individual parole consideration. It is not a “blanket release” policy, nor does it guarantee release based on age. Rather, it would give this population, which has the lowest recidivism rate, an opportunity to be heard by the Board of Parole. The Board would then decide, at its discretion, whether to release these individuals to their families and communities to live out their final years with dignity. Again, not a radical bill.

A campaign to pass these reforms has the backing of many leading crime victim advocacy groups, for three main reasons. First, accountability means more than punishment, it means changing one’s behavior — and a parole system that values personal transformation will mean greater safety for all. Second, these groups understand that many survivors of violence are, themselves, criminalized and incarcerated, often as a result of untreated trauma or of actions taken while defending themselves, and still more are victimized while incarcerated. Lastly, the bills are estimated to save $522 million annually — money that could be better spent on resources in the community that actually promote safety.

Other states across the country have similar laws on the books and none have gone back and repealed them. It’s time for New York to join them and pass these bills.

Shapiro served on the New York State Parole Board from 2017 to 2019.