Paremoremo Maxium Security Prison, Albany. Photo: David Hallett/Getty Images

SocietyApril 4, 2016

Corrections and clarifications – unpicking Judith Collins’ prison number explanations

Guest writer

Paremoremo Maxium Security Prison, Albany. Photo: David Hallett/Getty Images

Opinion: the minister’s tough-on-crime agenda is at odds with much of the wider direction on justice and corrections, writes Di White.

“Explaining” is not a mode politicians tend to enjoy. Following the release of new figures that show the prison population at a record high, the recently reappointed Minister of Corrections, Judith Collins, went into explaining mode, penning a piece for the Herald headlined “Explaining the record high prison population”.

There’s a certain neatness about the fact it’s Collins who is minister in charge of the country’s prisons as numbers hit record levels. Collins was Minister of Justice from 2011 to 2014, a period that saw a spate of “tough on crime” reforms that have, by her own admission, fed into the current explosion in prison numbers. It was Collins driving the agenda that saw sweeping changes to bail that make it more difficult for an accused to be bailed, resulting in increased pressure on remand facilities; Collins who implemented the three-strike laws that force judges to hand down the most severe sentence in certain circumstances, irrespective of whether it is deemed necessary or appropriate; Collins who changed the process for serious offenders seeking parole, meaning more prisoners serve the duration of their sentence in prison, thereby limiting opportunities for a safe reintegration while still serving a sentence.

It is the Minister of Justice who sets the agenda and the policies for the justice system. Corrections just wipes up the mess that follows. Collins has made her bed and, due to an unexpected demotion and an eventual rise back to the front bench, she has to lie in it.

In more recent years, it’s fair to say that Collins’ tough-on-crime agenda has sat somewhat at odds with the government’s wider direction in terms of justice and corrections policy. In 2011, Bill English made his oft-quoted remarks about prisons being a “moral and fiscal” failure. Ray Smith, the current CEO of Corrections, has made all the right noises about the need to focus on rehabilitation and breaking the cycle of offending rather than blindly throwing money at more prison beds. If you’re like me and you spend your evening perusing the Department of Corrections LinkedIn profile, you’ll see a steady stream of posts about all the nice, warm fuzzy things prisoners are up to – baking, carving commemorative benches, pitching in with the set up at WOMAD and even building toys for children. It’s a long way from Judith Collins speaking at the Sensible Sentencing Trust annual conference (let that one sink in for a moment),ridiculing those who believe in the rights of offenders or those who seek to unpack the drivers of crime – what Collins sees as allowing offenders to abdicate responsibility for their actions.

Her response to the record high numbers has the same flavour as that speech to the Sensible Sentencing Trust six years ago: a dogged belief that if we just locked up all of the criminals, society would be safe. It’s not explicit but it’s there: a high prison population is not a failing in Collins’ mind. It might even be a sign the system is working. There’s a lot to unpack in Collins’ piece, so let’s focus on some of the more egregious remarks.

‘The rise in the prison population has received a lot of attention lately and some people have questioned the increase against the backdrop of a falling crime rate.’

Attention is not something prisons always get a lot of. Prisons are, by their very design, out of sight and, for many, out of mind. There are few cohorts of society as disadvantaged across all indicators as prisoners, whether in literacy, education, health status, ethnicity, unemployment or income. Disadvantage breeds disempowerment, and disempowered people aren’t generally the type to garner much attention. In fact, Collins has recently gone out of her way to make outside attention on prisons even more difficult in requiring that all MPs go through her office if they want to visit a prison.

Attention on prison numbers is made harder by the fact that Corrections, for some unstated reason, stopped publishing quarterly statistics in December 2014. In an environment in which requests for government data and information under the Official Information Act take months to trickle back, and in a heavily redacted state, it’s difficult even to know when something needs attention. So the fact that New Zealand, a country with one of the highest rates of imprisonment in the OECD, has seen further increases in its prison population is definitely something worthy of attention. Whether or not Collins thinks it is warranted.

‘The increase since 2014 has mostly been driven by the increase in the remand population.’

Collins makes a lot of noise about the fact the increase in prison numbers has been largely felt in remand prisons. She states that the increase in remandees stems, in part, from the above-mentioned changes to bail and sentencing laws – changes she devised and implemented as Minister of Justice.

The flow-on effect of these changes to the remand prison population should come as no surprise for Collins. With respect to the Bail Amendment Act 2012, which reversed the burden of proof for some defendants seeking bail, Collins’ own Ministry provided the advice that the changes would incur a cost to the corrections system of up to $4.59 million per year due to the increased number of defendants being held in custody (that being the combined projected fiscal cost of the Ministry’s preferred options). Four years later, she’s painting the record high numbers as something “caused” by changes to the law, a flow-on impact outside of her control, as if governments should not be expected to project the impacts of their policy making.

The pressure on remand facilities has been well illustrated in recent months, with nothing short of chaos erupting at Auckland’s main remand facility, Mt Eden Correctional Facility. Anecdotally, I’ve heard of prisoners kept in overnight remand facilities for up to six weeks because there simply is not enough space. Collins is right: there is a crushing pressure on remand facilities. What Collins is omitting to add is that she was one of the key drivers behind this pressure.

‘Fewer people are being sent to prison but those who are sentenced to prison are serving more of their sentence so they are not able to commit as much crime. This may be a significant factor in the fall in the crime rate.’

If you managed to read this without an onset of shooting pains in your head and having to get up for a little angry pace, congratulations, you are a stronger person than me. Let’s start with the assertion that people serving longer sentences are “not able to commit as much crime”. Try and get past that “much crime” sounds like something from the now retired Doge meme, and focus on how this speaks to the fact that Collins sees prisons as an effective crime prevention strategy. As if all we need do is round up all the bad people, ship them off to prisons and leave them there, and we’ll “fix” crime.

It’s a level of simplicity that speaks not to stupidity but stubbornness. Collins must have an entire government ministry – and her deputy leader – telling her that crime prevention does not start in prisons. It starts in addressing the drivers of crime, the social conditions that act as a petri dish for crime and offending. If she isn’t getting this advice, it’s worth asking why not, given that you’d be hard pressed to find one criminologist who would suggest prison has any role in preventing crime in the long term. Because, sure, while a person is in prison they are constrained from offending, but almost all prisoners are released at some point.And when they come out, as they almost invariably do, what was a petri dish for crime and criminal offending has grown into a full-scale crime lab: if a person isn’t already socially excluded when they go into prison, they almost certainly will be when released. Putting people in prison does not prevent crime; it breeds it.

For Collins to suggest that longer sentences and keeping people in prison longer is contributingto the “falling crime rate” is where the tiny shooting pains in my head really kick in. Let’s start with the fact that the “crime rate” is not a proxy for community safety or for the level of criminal activity in our community. Crime rates reflect what police report. Every day, police exercise discretion as to what criminal behaviour they police and prosecute. This is a good thing: the young teen who nicks a T-shirt from Kmart probably just needs some attention, not a court appearance. Go to any summer music festival and you’ll find thousands of 20-somethings taking a range of illegal drugs with a couple of police officers quietly bouncing along to the tunes, very happily turning a blind eye to the criminal activity happening in their presence.

In recent years, the police have significantly increased the use of alternative resolution (PDF, 39) such as pre-charge warnings and diversion. Energy and effort has been diverted from policing and prosecuting low-level offending to addressing more serious and violent crime. It’s a smart approach in an environment where government funding is finite. What it means is that a reduction in the crime rate does not necessarily correlate with a reduction in the amount of crime actually taking place in the community and in our homes. It simply speaks to where police are placing their efforts. In addition to an emphasis on diversion and other forms of alternative resolution, the Ministry of Justice points out that the reduction in crime is consistent with trends observed in similar countries, and reflects “positive or neutral demographic changes”. It seems Collins is the only one drawing a line between the increase in prison population and the falling crime rate.

‘While our prisons are full of perpetrators of family violence, many of these individuals were themselves also victims of family violence as children, and some as adults. Tragically, the cycle is repeated through generations and as a country we must to more to address it.’

It’s as if a press secretary added this back in after Collins scrawled in the margins of the draft STOP MAKING EXCUSES FOR THE CRIMINALS and attached a copy of her speech to the Sensible Sentencing Trust’s annual conference.

‘Gang members are also heavily represented in the prison population. Close to one third of the prison population are active gang members. Gang offenders reoffend at twice the rate of non-gang offenders, and with increasing seriousness.’

This mention of gangs seems to have no relevance other than to suggest that the high prison population is justified because prisons are full of gang members. Again, this plays into narrative that prison is an effective way of keeping our communities safe; by keeping the bad guys off the street, Collins is keeping our communities safe. Moving right along.

‘Finally, it is important to point out that while the prison population is increasing, there will still be an emphasis on rehabilitation, including education and employment, drug and alcohol treatment and other programmes which will help to reduce reoffending and keep the public safe.’

This is perhaps my favourite passage from the piece: a beautiful afterthought to the idea of rehabilitation, buried in the depths of Collins’ vision for a prison system with the sole function of simply removing dangerous people from the streets. Collins has spent a solid eight years as the head of Police, Corrections or Justice. She’s had eight years to see the failure of prisons up close. She, like many people who have come before her or filled similar roles, should be a leading expert on just how ineffective prisons are; instead, eight years on, she’s trumpeting prison as a way to reduce crime. There is nothing rehabilitative about Collins’ vision for the prison system. These final words ring eerily hollow.

On no marker is our prison system a success. When at its best, it’s not in crisis. At its worst, it’s in its current state – chewing up more lives and more money than ever. If Collins started listening to the many voices, both within her government and beyond, calling for a fresh approach to prisons, she might not have so much explaining do.

Keep going!

SocietyMarch 31, 2016

‘I worried less about the cops than the gangs’ – an interview with a weed dealer

Don Rowe

Contributing writer

As cannabis decriminalisation finally looms as a political possibility, Don Rowe tracks down an ex-dealer to get a look into the black economy – and asks whether they’d consider going legit.

A wheezy sigh of relief was heard yesterday as Associate Health Minister Peter Dunne indicated the possibility of finally loosening his bow-tie stranglehold on the legality of marijuana in New Zealand.

Interviewed on RNZ’s Morning Report, Dunne told Guyon Espiner he was “open to reviewing evidence” around decriminalisation, as well as shifting towards a health-focused rather than punitive approach to drug policy.

“Given the focus is on health rather than other matters, it’s not unreasonable to expect an approach that’s more tolerant in that regard,” said Dunne.

It’s good news for cannabis users in New Zealand, a diverse and varied demographic who have been suffering through a drought of late. But it’s dealers who have the most to gain, with their occupation potentially turning from criminal to legit in the not-to-distant future.

I spoke to one such dealer last night. University-educated and pulling in well above the average wage at his day job, Steve (not his real name) stopped selling weed at the end of last year, leaving his supplier, his customer base, and the profits and problems that came with them. I wanted to know what it was like to operate in the black economy – and whether he’d consider rejoining were the law to change.

The following conversation has been condensed and edited.

Why did you start selling weed?

Just because of easy access to a supply, really. Something opened up on a regular excursion out of the city and it made sense.

How much product were you shifting?

Last year it would definitely vary, but on a high month I might have sold 10 or so ounces, worth about $6000, plus me and the boys would have smoked a bunch on our own.

Sales were increasing, too. I was supplying a pretty niche market, but I definitely saw an increase in demand. I think weed is becoming a far more acceptable part of society, there’s less stigma around it, so more people are trying it out. Plus it was a pretty chill scene we established. Everyone was pretty friendly and low-key. There were no rats.

Describe the weed you were selling.

I sold a few different types. Mainly, it was really skanky indoor. A really strong indica strain, like the dude’s own tried-and-true recipe. They were really dense, thick nuggys, with little orange hairs all over, you know? It smelt really strong, and a lot of the time it would just get you so stoned you couldn’t really talk or do much, like all good indicas.

How were you sourcing the product?

I was getting the weed from a source in a different city, more than four hours drive away. Sometimes I’d do a day run, boost up during the day, but often I’d make it a weekend sort of thing. Go away for a night every month or so, pick up anywhere from like 5-10 ounces, and head back. We’d get them for $300, then divvy them up: half as .9g tinnies and the other half as 50 bags, somewhere around three grams each.

How were you moving it?

I would take the weed and put it in a big bucket, like bigger than a paint bucket, wrap that in a blanket and chuck it in the boot.

What market position did your supplier have in comparison?

He was a big dog, eh. He was definitely supplying to other people, I was basically just his bit on the side, pretty much his smallest customer. He’d just give me whatever he had left over. But he was moving a lot. Pounds and pounds every month.

What did you do with the cash?

Well you can’t bank it, which sucks, so a lot of it inevitably went on recreational things like beer, and other drugs. Or on things like car repairs, roadies or a new surfboard.

Ten ounces is something like 300 tinnys a month, or a hundred 50’s. What were the inconveniences of trying to shift that much weed?

Where I was, it was pretty easy really. There basically was no inconvenience apart from random people rocking up to my house, but that’s about it. Selling weed is less lucrative than selling other drugs like ecstasy or LSD, especially on a small scale, but it’s much safer too. You also get less people coming around at four in the morning banging on the door.

I still got robbed twice though. I came home and, even though everything was already pretty messy, I knew straight away that all the drawers had been rummaged through and there was a bunch of cash gone. Rooms had been tipped over and shit. Whoever did it knew there would be cash, and they knew which specific rooms it would be in.

Afterwards, I definitely considered security. I talked about getting cameras and stuff, but never ended up getting around to it.

Were you ever worried about someone else bursting in like, say, the cops?

Nah, not really. I never had heaps of people texting me or anything, people would just drop in. Nothing was ever done over txt or Facebook, it was all word of mouth, and so it was all very low-key. I wasn’t worried.

I fly under the radar though. I don’t even know of anyone who’s been busted personally. Although I did hear of a guy getting caught last year at the polytech in Dunedin. He was buying and selling stuff off the Silk Road I believe and got snapped by customs.

There were also some young guys who lived down the road who definitely weren’t being low-key; they had the Mongrel Mob rock in and basically stand over them. Freaked them right out. They went to the cops about it, and the cops said “Well, we can’t really do anything about that.”

They told the cops the mob stole the weed they wanted to sell?

Yea. They were that scared. They were shitting their pants. I even freaked out a bit at that point and cut it off for a while. I was definitely less worried about the cops and more worried about the gangs.

Both are problems that could be avoided with legalisation. Do you think weed should be legalised?

Definitely. It’s a natural plant for one, and it’s stupid to have that illegal while we smoke other things like tobacco. I also think weed is pretty harmless so long as kids aren’t smoking it at a young age and becoming drop-kicks. Although they’re probably destined to be drop-kicks anyway.

What issues could you see developing as a result of legalisation?

Well, who knows if there could be some kind of backlash from the gangs, maybe they’d start pushing meth more, making that a bigger problem, but it’s hard to say. I don’t think there’d be harm to any other part of society.

If weed was legalised, there would be a rush to establish a legitimate industry around cultivation and supply while the illegal market crashed. Would you consider getting involved?

I would definitely consider being involved from a distance while also keeping my day job. Actually, depending how lucrative it is, I could see myself completely investing in the industry. To grow enough indoor to make it worthwhile you’d need a lot of room and a lot of electricity. Outside would be easier, but then you’re dealing with bugs and all the usual things that farmers have to handle. But it would be a pretty cool lifestyle, particularly because I do quite enjoy smoking it too.

If you didn’t go down the commercial route, what would be your involvement in NZ cannabis culture?

Oh, I’d definitely grow a hobby garden. Maybe five or so plants. Just for personal use, you know? Even now I only want it for personal use. I don’t have the same captive market that I used to, or the same source to supply it, so I’m only interested in personal use.

It’s just too much of a hassle otherwise.