By Heather Schoenfeld, Kimberly Rhoten, and Michael C. Campbell

In recent years US prisons have failed to meet legally required minimum standards of care and protection of incarcerated people. Explanations for the failure to protect prisoners in the United States focus on the effects of the Prison Litigation Reform Act (PLRA) and the lack of adequate external oversight. However, very little scholarship empirically examines how different systems of accountability for prisoners’ rights work (or do not work) together. In this article, we introduce an accountability framework that helps us examine the prisoners’ rights “accountability environment” in the United States. We then compare two post-PLRA case studies of failure to protect incarcerated women from sexual assault in two different states. We find that the prisoners’ rights accountability environment is a patchwork of legal, bureaucratic, professional, and political systems. The patchwork accountability environment consists of a web of hierarchical and interdependent relationships that constrain or enable accountability. We argue that ultimately the effectiveness of prisoners’ rights accountability environments depends on whether protecting prisoners’ rights aligns with the priorities of dominant political officials. Our argument has implications for efforts to improve prison conditions and incarcerated people’s well-being. 

Law & Social Inquiry Volume 00, Issue 00, 1–30, 2024 

By David Macdonald

Truth in Sentencing laws eliminates discretion in prison release. This decreases the incentive for rehabilitative effort among prisoners. I use a regression discontinuity design to exploit a change in these incentives created by the introduction of TIS in Arizona. Before prison, I found that sentences were reduced by 20% for TIS offenders. Further, I find that rule infractions increased by 22% to 55% and education enrolment fell by 24%. After release, I found offenders were 4.8 p.p. more likely to re-offend. I further find that recidivism and infraction effects are largest among drug and violent offenders. Finally, I show that the reduction in sentences resulted in a broad equalization of time served at the cutoff, which indicates that the removal of early-release incentives by TIS was the main mechanism driving results.

Unpublished paper, 2024. 84p.

By Lee Kovarsky

Before their executions, condemned people suffered intensely, in solitude, and at great length. But that suffering is not punishment—especially not the suffering on American-style death rows. In this article, I show that American institutions administer pre-execution confinement as nonpunitive detention, and I explain the consequences of that counterintuitive status. A nonpunitive paradigm curbs, at least to some degree, the dehumanization, neglect, and isolation that now dominate life on death row. It is also the doctrinal solution to a longstanding puzzle involving confinement, execution, and the Eighth Amendment. To understand why pre-execution confinement is nonpunitive, readers need a basic understanding of the experience itself. Most death-sentenced people will lead lives marked by some substantial combination of inadequate nutrition, deficient health care, substandard sanitation and ventilation, restricted movement, and excessive isolation. By the time the state executes its condemned prisoners, they will have spent about two decades in such conditions—up from two years in 1960. The state distributes suffering across this prisoner cohort in ways that bear little relationship to criminal blameworthiness. Almost without exception, however, scholarship and decisional law continue to treat confinement before execution as punishment. Virtually everyone makes the punitive assumption, but there are two reasons rooted in penal theory why they should not. First, confinement before execution does not meet consensus criteria for punishment. It is instead suffering collateral to the state’s interest in incapacitating those who face execution. Second, if pre-execution confinement were to be taken seriously as a punitive practice, then it would be normatively unjustified. More specifically, punitive confinement would represent punishment beyond the legally specified maximum (an execution), and it would be distributed across the death-sentenced prisoner cohort arbitrarily. There is a well-developed body of constitutional law capable of absorbing a nonpunitive version of pre-execution confinement. Under that law, when the state detains people primarily to incapacitate them, that detention is regulatory—not punitive. Due process, rather than the Eighth Amendment, constrains regulatory detention. A nonpunitive approach would reduce unnecessary suffering because due process rules more stringently constrain the state’s treatment of its prisoners. Such an approach would also give the U.S. Supreme Court better answers to the difficult Eighth Amendment questions that have vexed the Justices for decades. 

Virginia Law Review [Vol. 109:1429, 2023.