How efforts to cut long prison sentences have stalled

When a 2016 California law made it possible for Lance Gonzalez to shorten his prison sentence by completing more rehabilitation programs and education, he hit the ground running.

Gonzalez "poured hundreds of hours into self-help groups, including courses on victim impact and cognitive behavior," KQED reported this week. He taught classes, worked as a mentor, and earned seven associate degrees.

His efforts seemed to pay off. Under the law, the state corrections department awarded Gonzalez enough time credits to move up his first parole hearing from 2028 to 2023. He was granted parole on his first try—a rare feat.

As Gonzalez was planning for his first hours as a free man last spring, a lawsuit pulled the rug out from under him, The Marshall Project reports. In May, a judge agreed with the Criminal Justice Legal Foundation—a conservative nonprofit organization—that the corrections department didn't have the authority to advance parole for people serving life sentences. The state has appealed the ruling.

Meanwhile, a bill that would have allowed some Californians sentenced to life before 1990 to be eligible for parole died in the statehouse earlier this summer.

The two stalled efforts in the Golden State are indicative of a tension visible across the country, as reform efforts aimed at paring back long sentences bump up against resistance from victims' rights groups and a resurgence of "tough-on-crime" politics.

The time people spend in prison generally got longer during the 1990s with the rapid adoption of "truth-in-sentencing" laws that severely restricted or even eliminated opportunities for incarcerated people to earn parole part-way through a sentence.

Wisconsin is characteristic of the changes in sentencing in many states. Before 1997, people convicted in Wisconsin were eligible for parole after serving 25% of their sentence and were automatically released after serving two-thirds. After 1997, people were required to serve 100% of their sentence, plus an additional 25% on supervised release.

Even as the state reduced arrests and prosecutions during the 2000s, there was no "release valve," experts told Wisconsin Watch, causing the number of people incarcerated to continue to grow, even as fewer people were sentenced. At present, the state's prison population is 5,000 people over capacity.

A few years after Wisconsin's 1997 sentencing law passed, Gawaine Edwards was convicted of felony murder and armed robbery at age 23. Under the law, Edwards isn't eligible for release for another 12 years, when he will be 57. Last week, Edwards told Wisconsin Watch that he feels he's "stuck here doing all this dead time," in a prison that isn't offering legitimate rehabilitation or educational programming.

Truth-in-sentencing laws can also limit how people seek rehabilitation programming in prison. As one incarcerated writer put it in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution this week: "When I ask young inmates about behavioral change, they often respond, 'Why should I?' Without incentives, they see no reason to change."

According to a July report from Stateline, several states have seen efforts to pass "second-look" legislation this year—bills that allow courts or parole boards to reevaluate long sentences—but most have failed.

One that bucked the trend was a new law in Oklahoma that allows domestic violence victims convicted of crimes to apply for resentencing if abuse "was a substantial contributing factor" to their crime.

More general second-look legislation is often opposed by some victim advocacy groups, which argue that the bills rob people affected by crime of closure. A second-look effort in Virginia led to heated and emotional legislative hearings earlier this year, before the bill was postponed to next year.

"The impact—it's with us every day," said Michael Grey, whose son was killed during a cell phone sale. "Why have a justice system if we're going to circumvent these decisions," he said of the sentences imposed, "and try to come back and let these people get out of jail?"

An unrelated good-time credit law did go into effect in Virginia last month, leading to the release of more than 800 people from state prisons. The law roughly tripled how much time off their sentences incarcerated people can earn for good behavior.

Other states may be going the other way. This November, voters in Colorado will decide whether people convicted of violent crimes should be required to serve at least 85% of their sentence before being eligible for parole or reductions for good behavior. Currently, that number is 75%.

And as of Aug. 1, virtually no one sentenced in Louisiana will be eligible for future parole under laws passed by the legislature earlier this year. A related new law also reduces the ability to earn credits for good behavior. Prison policy experts predict that the changes will double the state prison population.