Metro Phoenix cities turn to homeless courts to help people navigate the justice system

The Defender Association of Philadelphia practices community-oriented public defense — also known as "holistic defense" — to connect clients with support services and resources that help address the root causes of crimes. The association works with social workers, investigators, and paralegals to get clients access to housing, food, jobs, and healthcare, as well as mental health and substance use treatment, with more than 150 people referred to treatment providers between September 2016 and January 2017.

Eagle County's two problem-solving courts put treatment ahead of punishment when addressing crimes committed by people with substance abuse problems. Originally set up as one court, they now function separately to address drunken driving and drugs and serve people "teetering on the edge of serious prison time" for repeat offenses. More than 90 percent of participants in 2020 maintained sobriety and more than 80 percent avoided new legal troubles. While the threat of punishment is used to win compliance with rules, prosecutors say they're more interested in permanently curing the underlying disease.

Kansas' only veterans treatment court started small, but it has proved the concept to Sedgwick County officials who want to copy its success. Veterans courts provide treatment in lieu of conviction and punishment for veterans charged generally with non-violent, less-serious offenses. The costs are much lower than for incarceration, with greater benefits to the defendants. National statistics show a 14% recidivism rate, much lower than for the criminal justice system overall. In Johnson County, 41 veterans have gone through the 18-month program; none have reoffended.

Since 2018, The Bail Project has turned $41 million in donated money into cash bail to free more than 15,500 people in dozens of cities from pretrial detention. The project grew out of the work of Bronx Defenders, which saw over a decade the people it bailed out nearly all showed up for court dates and most did not get into new trouble while out of jail. Now the Bail Project is expanding with new offices in four Southern states, a reflection of the region's high incarceration rates and racial disparities. In the campaign to end cash bail as a penalty for poverty, bail funds serve as a stopgap.

Like standard drug courts, the Penobscot Nation's Healing to Wellness Court refers people facing drug-related criminal charges to substance abuse counseling as an alternative to punishment. But this court and other tribal wellness courts are steeped in indigenous customs, blended with restorative justice approaches, to emphasize rehabilitation based on trust, support, and native traditions. The threat of punishment looms over participants should they fail in their counseling program. But no one has been jailed in the past two years in the Penobscot program.

LEAD (Law Enforcement Assisted Diversion) proved itself in Seattle as effective at addressing the underlying problems of people experiencing homelessness, by waiving their criminal charges if they accepted needed services. But the program's two-year test in Honolulu failed to gain traction because only some police bought into it, and the prosecutor's office never did. Instead of using criminal citations as leverage, the program was stripped down to an ordinary outreach effort, and managed to enroll only 50 people, not all of whom were helped. A new prosecutor and the police will make another go of it.

An array of services in Pima County, Arizona, greets hundreds of people getting released early from jail or helps keep them out of jail in the first place. By providing drug treatment, housing, job assistance, and other help that people need instead of incarceration, the county's Criminal Justice Reform Unit and Jail Population Review Committee saved the county $2 million in jail costs over just part of 2020. Drug use also declined and officials hope to see longer-range benefits in lower recidivism.

Manhattan Mental Health Court was created in 2011 to divert felony criminal cases to treatment, and away from prison, for people in need of mental health treatment. But few people with serious mental illness ever benefit from it. Too few defense lawyers know to request the intervention or do it correctly. Prosecutors act as gatekeepers in deciding who gets the help, and many do not see its value. And, once cases are admitted to the court, they can sometimes take years to be resolved. Covid restrictions on the courts have only aggravated these problems.

Since 2015, Project Reset has diverted potential criminal cases to programs that change behaviors without imposing punishment or staining people's records with criminal convictions. Art classes, behavioral therapy, and restorative dialogue have made 16- and 17-year-olds in the program significantly less likely to commit new offenses, while 98% of those admitted to the program have completed it. Offered in Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Bronx, the program helped the Manhattan district attorney nearly cut in half the number of prosecutions of low-level misdemeanors and violations.

The Wake County district attorney worked with criminal-justice reform groups to hold a "warrant clinic" where people could apply to void arrest warrants that could land them in jail, with all of the financial and social costs that come with that. About 45 of 160 applicants were approved in the process, which comes with multiple conditions limiting eligibility to people facing relatively minor charges who missed court dates or had similar reasons for getting named in a warrant. The organizers hope to continue the practice, which also saves the county money.