Incarceration after COVID: how the pandemic could permanently change jails and prisons

Pennsylvania prisons' relatively uncrowded conditions and approach to releasing people early when the pandemic hit have limited deaths in its prisons, making people incarcerated in Pennsylvania less than half as likely to die of COVID-19 as free Pennsylvanians. In neighboring Ohio, where COVID cases appeared simultaneously, the prison death rate has been nearly seven times higher than Pennsylvania's. Ohio's prisons are far more crowded, they rely much more on dorm-style housing, and their early-release rules were much more restrictive.

COVID-19 outbreaks in Iowa prisons have been contained through extensive testing, quarantines, and reductions in prison crowding. The state's prison population hit a 20-year low, down 13% from early April, because of accelerated parole hearings and reductions in new admissions. The state courts' slowdown and the prisons' temporary suspension in new admissions contributed to the population decrease. Since March, four people incarcerated in Iowa prisons have died of the virus while 833 have tested positive. An additional 126 staff have tested positive.

In response to COVID-19 infection fears, Montana jails rapidly shrank the numbers of pretrial detainees held on nonviolent charges in a demonstration of how quickly a change in policy – without even changing state law – can decrease incarceration rates. Based on numbers like those seen at Missoula County Detention Facility, which dropped its jail population by 37% in March and April by turning away people who ordinarily would have been jailed, decarceration advocates hope to make the changes permanent after studying the effects on crime.

New Mexico criminal justice officials joined forces to lower local jail populations by one-third in just 11 weeks, a rushed COVID-19 response that not only seems to have prevented widespread illness but also led law enforcement officials to question whether they need to lock up so many people in the future. Prosecutors, police, and county jails arrested fewer people, released low-risk inmates, and suspended “warrant sweeps” and jailing people for technical probation and parole violations. With 27 jails less than half-full, a top prosecutor acknowledged the virus response may turn into standard practice.

By rapidly instituting mandatory testing of all inmates at a covid-19-stricken federal prison and segregating ill inmates, authorities reduced the number of new infections within weeks. At one point, nearly 70% of the inmates at the Terminal Island federal prison in San Pedro, California, had tested positive for the coronavirus as it raced through a facility where inmates normally interact constantly in crowded communal areas. As of mid-May, eight inmates had died and more than 500 had recovered.

Through the first week of May 2020, New Hampshire prisons and jails had avoided a COVID-19 outbreak after taking only modest prevention measures. There were no deaths and no reported cases among the more than 2,400 people held in state prisons, nor in any county jails, and only a handful of prison and jail staff had tested positive. Prisons screened employees entering facilities, engaged in extensive cleaning, suspended visits, and limited transfers and programs. Though the prisons followed CDC guidelines on testing, critics say they have not tested enough to track the virus' spread.

Disaster preparedness in the form of close inter-agency coordination and communication helped Cuyahoga County, Ohio, protect its unhoused population from COVID-19 to a greater extent than Lane County, Oregon. Although Cuyahoga (Cleveland) is larger, with more resources, its effective responses still offer a model to Lane County (Eugene), where a scattered approach and homeless-camp sweeps proved counterproductive. In Cleveland, hotels were quickly enlisted to house people, reducing crowding in shelters by half and street homelessness by 30%. Its largest men's shelter ended up with a low infection rate.

Dalila Reynoso's local activism blossomed into a full-blown watchdog role when COVID-19 began to spread through the Smith County, Texas, jail. The marriage of criminal justice reform and pandemic safety, vested in one woman, mirrors much larger court watch and jail watch projects in larger cities. For her part, Reynoso became a conduit for complaints about jail conditions. Thanks to her diplomatic skills, and a receptive sheriff's openness to criticism and change, the pair's efforts lowered virus cases from 52 to three within three weeks and lowered the jail population by more than 150 people.

Nonprofit bail funds, which use donated money to pay the bail of low-income people held in jail on pending charges, have won the release of about 55 people in Detroit during the COVID-19 crisis. Beyond the immediate need to free more people from an environment that makes social distancing difficult, the bail funds are part of a larger movement challenging a system that disproportionately affects people of color. The combination of bail payments, bond reductions, and administrative releases have reduced Wayne County's jail population by almost half.

Cleveland’s city jail has released close to 900 inmates in order to prevent the spread of COVID-19 in its overcrowded facilities. And the response isn’t unique – New York, LA, Detroit, Chicago, New Orleans, and Houston are just a few of the other cities that have taken similar measures. While an immediate response to the pandemic, advocates say the release of low-level offenders could bode well for larger prison reforms that have been slowly taking hold.