Criminal Incapacitation

By William Spelman

There is nothing uglier than a catfish. With its scaleless, eel-like body, flat, semicircular head, and cartilaginous whiskers, it looks almost entirely unlike a cat. The toothless, sluggish beasts can be found on the bottom of warm streams and lakes, living on scum and detritus. Such a diet is healthier than it sounds: divers in the Ohio River regularly report sighting catfish the size of small whales, and cats in the Mekong River in Southeast Asia often weigh nearly 700 pounds. Ugly or not, the catfish is good to eat. Deep-fried catfish is a Southern staple; more ambitious recipes add Parmesan cheese, bacon drippings and paprika, or Amontillado. Catfish is also good for you. One pound of channel catfish provides nearly all the protein but only half the calories and fat of 1 pound of solid white albacore tuna. Catfish is a particularly good source of alphatocopherol and B vitamins. Because they are both nutritious and tasty, cats are America's biggest aquaculture product. Incapacitation is the channel catfish of crime policy. In a world in which we value elegant solutions to thorny problems, mere imprisonment stands out as illbred and underdressed. And when incapacitation is combined with prediction, even the heartiest eaters scan the menu for an alternative. Some observers have made a cottage industry out of identifying the internal inconsistencies, potential injustices, and sheer gaucherie of selective activities. Predictive scales are of "low validity" and bring with them "unjustified risks of abuse." .

New York: Plenum Press, 1994. 341p.