DOC secretary giving inmates a break on fees

August 7, 2006 on 9:38 am | In State legal news | No Comments |

Article published Aug 5, 2006
Aug 4, 2006

DOC secretary giving inmates a break on fees

By JOE FOLLICK
Sun Tallahassee Bureau
TALLAHASSEE – While much of the state was focusing on corruption in the Department of Corrections that toppled his predecessor earlier this year, Secretary James McDonough couldn’t ignore e-mails from families of inmates.

Many were similar to this: “I have had to bear the brunt of high phone bills, outrageous canteen prices and banking fees, just so my (fiance) could have a hint of normalcy,” one woman wrote. “I don’t take away the fact that my (fiance) did something wrong and had to pay for his mistakes, but I have often felt that I too was being punished. After all, it is the families that have to pay.”

The e-mails have led McDonough to partly reverse a national trend of generating profit from inmates. Since McDonough replaced James Crosby in February, he has cut fees on prisoners’ bank accounts, reduced price hikes in canteens that sell items to inmates, and cut the cost of long distance collect phone calls ! by 30 p ercent.

McDonough classifies the reaction from inmates’ families as “absolutely shocked.”

“I started thinking ‘There but for the grace of God go I,’ ” McDonough said. “If I had a loved one in prison, if they wanted to call me, I’d take the phone call. If I couldn’t afford it, I’d take the phone call because that’s it, that’s the only connection you have.”

McDonough also reduced the fees on inmates’ bank accounts that are held by each prison, calling the previous charge of $1 per week “usurious.”

That fee was collected regardless of how much or little an inmate spent.

McDonough reduced the fee to 1 percent of withdrawals, and also reduced the weekly withdrawal limit from $100 to $65 to counter entrepreneurial inmates who purchase items and resell them.

He also eliminated fees on deposits from the Veterans Administration for inmates who had served in the military and for special needs withdrawals for things like birthday gifts for fam! ily out s ide of prison.

“That money (in inmate bank accounts) was coming from family. So, sort of the same logic again, who are we really gouging?” McDonough said.

McDonough has also eliminated the ability of the contractor that operates prison canteens – Keefe Commissary – to raise costs 10 percent every six months. The contract now allows the increase only once a year. A subcontractor with Keefe was at the center of a kickback scheme that led to Crosby’s firing and looming prison time.

McDonough said there was no reason for twice a year increases “except that it was profit, making big money.”

The cut in phone call fees means a drop from about $17 million collected by the agency annually to $7 million. And the bank fee cut will cost the agency about $800,000.

That’s not a big deal in an agency with an annual budget of nearly $2.3 billion. But it also puts McDonough at odds with a Legislature that has cut the agency’s budget with orders to make up! the di ff erence with increased inmate fees.

McDonough said the Legislature’s proposal of hiking bank fees to $6 per month on all inmates would not have made up the $5 million that was cut from the agency’s budget this year. He called the plan “complete and utter artificiality” and said he will push for less circuitous funding next year.

Legislators who chair the justice appropriations committees did not return calls requesting comment.

Groups who champion inmates’ rights welcome the changes.

“It’s certainly a breath of fresh air,” said Randall Berg, executive director of the Florida Justice Institute.

Berg’s group sued the Legislature over the implementation of banking fees in 2004. He said the use of fees and collection of profit from phone calls is “penny wise, pound foolish.”

“We want these people to not go back to prison,” Berg said. “If we cut them off from family members and friends, then obviously once they get out they’ll have no s! upport and be more likely to go back to prison.”

McDonough says concern about inmates’ health and fiscal well-being does not mean soft treatment. He said a well-fed inmate with hopes for the future presents fewer problems. “There’s nothing that says you have to be soft and fuzzy,” McDonough said. “There is the idea of firmness, but also fairness.”

McDonough hasn’t commented on whether he’d stay as secretary when Gov. Jeb Bush leaves in January. But he has a long-term vision of refining the DOC’s approach with prisoners.

In a video shown to agency employees earlier this year, he urged workers to avoid cursing on the job.

“We’re a professional outfit,” he said. “You don’t address people who are beholden to the rules you set with demeaning language.” He also talks at length about the problems of the mentally ill in state prisons and has asked other state agencies to assist in treatment programs.

He’s snuck into prison food lines to sample meals. His ! review: “I t was not fine cuisine, but it was good.” He’s also asked clergy in the prison to keep tabs on whether inmates have enough time to eat.

He has proposed having construction businesses train inmates for work after they leave prison. He’s also suggested using inmates to help pick citrus crops to offset a lack of manpower in the industry.

And he’s pledged to have more inmates participate in PRIDE, the company that uses inmates to build furniture and other items for sale to businesses and the state.

McDonough said the percentage of inmates in the program is “abysmal.”

with 1.69 percent of male inmates and 2.68 percent of female inmates working for PRIDE, figures he’d like to see increased to 25 percent or higher. The ultimate goal is reducing recidivism and prison space.

“If I’m right on this, then I’m saying in about five years we can actually start building down corrections institutions because we would have done what our name implies, we ! would h ave corrected this behavior,” McDonough said.