Supporting justice-involved people with extreme complex needs in the Australian community: a third sector practice perspective

Purpose This qualitative research aims to explore staff perspectives on working effectively with people with intellectual disability who are in contact with the criminal justice system. Design/methodology/approach Taking a case study approach, staff working for a third sector community organisation were interviewed about the components of effective work with their customers. The staff supported people engaged in the Community Justice Program. Findings Staff consistently described relationship building as the most important part of their work. There were three components to relationship building: the process of relationship building, the elements of a high-quality staff–customer relationship and the staff skills needed to develop a good relationship. Originality/value This paper makes two contributions to the literature. First, it focuses our attention on a third sector organisation supporting people in contact with the justice system as opposed to a formal criminal justice agency. Second, the paper seeks to understand the processes and skills staff deploy to build a high-quality relationship with criminal justice-involved people with intellectual disability.

Laws

In this chapter, current legal and policy responses to digital punishment are discussed, documenting the government’s regulatory ineffectiveness with regard to policing these operations and the ways it has chosen, instead, to place the onus of responsibility on the individuals impacted by digital punishment. The testimonies of the hundreds of people interviewed for this book demonstrate that government must regain control over how its data are monetized by third parties. At the same time, government should be held to better transparency standards that provide more insight into criminal justice agency activity rather than disclosing personal information about arrestees and defendants. This final chapter returns to the book’s core questions and suggests a series of policy reforms, asking what information should be public and what information should stay private.

Consent Decrees and Police Reform

Charged with enforcing the law and regulating human behavior, the police have considerable leeway in their ability to control the population. On occasion, situations arise in which police officers misuse their authority, resulting in racially discriminatory practices, illegal searches and seizures, abusive use of force, or other forms of misbehavior. In some cases, unconstitutional practices are isolated incidents that are restricted to the actions of a small group of officers; in other cases, misbehavior may be more emblematic of a systemic problem within a criminal justice agency. To the extent that a pattern or practice of unconstitutional behavior exists, the interest of any government, and the people governed, is in limiting official misconduct. One method of correcting unconstitutional behavior is through a consent decree, a court-ordered agreement following a major U.S. Department of Justice (DOJ) investigation that is designed to correct long-standing unconstitutional practices within police departments. Despite the fact that consent decrees have been available to the DOJ for nearly 25 years, their use is somewhat limited (especially lately, in light of the Trump administration’s resistance to their use). A small body of evidence suggests there is promise for consent decrees as a tool for correcting police misbehavior. Existing studies show consent decrees are correlated with boosted citizen perceptions of treated police departments, lower counts of civil rights litigation, and improved methods for recording and disciplining police misbehavior. The influence of a consent decree may gradually build up over time before lapsing post-treatment. In addition, focus group interviews with law enforcement officers suggest that many express apprehension about the goals of reform and the impact on the day-to-day lives of police officers. A number of questions remain unanswered that require further exploration from the field.

Legacy Community School and the New Face of Alternative Education

Legacy is California’s newest version of “continuation” or alternative education. This school is housed in a World War II army barrack. Here, kids are searched, made to walk through metal detectors, placed on formal or informal probation, and subjected to perpetual contact with criminal justice agents. In this school we find the Recuperation Class. This class is a self-contained program for youth with “drug dependence and other behavioral issues.” Unlike the rest of the school, the local probation department directly funds this classroom. In this unique setting, the teacher provides instruction as the probation agent walks around, conducts random drug tests on students, questions youth about their behavior outside of school, and/or takes them directly to detention. Legacy school officials have granted this criminal justice agency unfettered access to their students in return for financial support. While the probation department refers to this well-intentioned process as providing wraparound services to students, I argue that this process resembles “wraparound incarceration” where students cannot escape the formal surveillance of institutions of confinement. In this institution, young women move back and forth between this school and secure detention.

Surveys, Records, and the Study of Incarceration in Families

More than 2 million American children have a parent incarcerated, making the consequences of parental incarceration for families a critical concern. A growing literature documents significant challenges not only among incarcerated men, but also among their spouses, partners, and children. Much remains to be learned about these experiences, however; and the data available for doing so are limited. In this article, we demonstrate how the quality of available data on paternal incarceration can be improved by supplementing a leading population-based survey of families with administrative records on criminal history from a state criminal justice agency. This administrative supplement provides only a low-end estimate of the extent of criminal justice involvement in our sample, but still increases the number of fathers identified with criminal histories by more than 20 percent. Building on such a supplement—in our current survey or future ones—could improve the identification of justice-involved fathers on a broader scale.

Law, Religion, and Restorative Justice in New Zealand

A former police chief and a criminologist confirm a famous remark by Margaret Mead when they write: “The initiation of restorative reforms is often based upon the conversion of one key professional in a criminal justice agency.”New Zealand district court judge Fred W.M. McElrea personalized this rule in his account of how he stumbled on a restorative procedure in the case of a young man in Auckland, who was a Maori and son of a bishop, and who confessed to the crime of robbing a woman's purse. She happened to be a Quaker, and she appeared in court as a gesture of friendship for the offender. When the time came for sentencing, McElrea wondered out loud if there were a way for the young man to be monitored, without imprisonment, by some competent person who knew him. At that, Douglas Mansil, local Presbyterian minister, also present in the courtroom, stood and volunteered his services. Mansil had been the longtime “streetwise” pastor of a congregation in that Auckland neighborhood, known for furnishing the courts with more than a few youth offenders. Together with the Quaker victim of the crime, he kept track of the young man and reported regularly to the court. It was the beginning of McElrea's dedication to restorative justice (RJ) for young offenders in New Zealand. He and other judiciary leaders pay tribute to the influence of Howard Zehr's visit to New Zealand (NZ) in 1994 and Zehr's book, Changing Lenses, which McElrea first read during a sabbatical leave at Cambridge University. Zehr's book and his work in the U.S. had great impact on New Zealand legal officials, many of whom, like McElrea, often give him credit for inspiring shifts to RJ in their thinking about law, judicial process, and ethics.

Pathways to care and ethnicity. 2: Source of referral and help-seeking

BackgroundPrevious research has found that African–Caribbean and Black African patients are likely to come into contact with mental health services via more negative routes, when compared with White patients. We sought to investigate pathways to mental health care and ethnicity in a sample of patients with a first episode of psychosis drawn from two UK centres.MethodWe included all White British, other White, African–Caribbean and Black African patients with a first episode of psychosis who made contact with psychiatric services over a 2-year period and were living in defined areas. Clinical, socio-demographic and pathways to care data were collected from patients, relatives and case notes.ResultsCompared with White British patients, general practitioner referral was less frequent for both African–Caribbean and Black African patients and referral by a criminal justice agency was more common. With the exception of criminal justice referrals for Black African patients, these findings remained significant after adjusting for potential confounders.ConclusionsThese findings suggest that factors are operating during a first episode of psychosis to increase the risk that the pathway to care for Black patients will involve non-health professionals.