Category Archives: mass incarceration

Squad Squabble

VINCE

We start Flag Detail tomorrow. We had a two hour training session yesterday on how to raise, lower, fold, carry, and store both the Minnesota State Flag and the American Flag. I will be involved in the process roughly every three days as we rotate. I’m a little nervous about it. Not because of punishment for doing something wrong, but because I have respect for the flags and I want to look good doing the job.

However … If somebody, even by accident, lets any part of either flag touch the ground, and staff finds out about it before we front-and-center about it, our sister squad and ours will owe 2,000 blue-hat pushups. That’s 2,000 sets of 40 divided up between 34 guys that need to be documented and completed over the next however many days are left when the potential event occurs. So needless to say, we’re going to be careful.

If it does touch the ground and we admit to it we split up 200 sets. EZ

It’s been a long day. I’ve run 4.2 miles, lifted weights for an hour, sat through three hours of treatment, cleaned the treatment building (my job), eaten three terrible meals, read the last 100 pages of my Bill Bryson book (awesome!), written four pages for you guys, written four pages on cross-addiction for treatment, and … well, that’s good enough right? My wrist is sore, so I say good day.

Less than 24 hours after writing the post about the Flag, somebody in my squad dropped it. The whole thing. Right on the ground. I was not in that five-man formation so I’m not feeling the “heat”, but I will be responsible for some pushups. The officer in charge of the detail isn’t here today so I can’t tell you much more.

As a squad we owe 200 sets of boot camp four-count pushups. That’s 40 each set. That’s 8,000 divided by 17 of us. That’s for one squad member dropping the flag, then being honest about it. Yesterday we knocked out 37 sets as a squad. We should be done in a couple days.

What surprised me is that a few of us quite vocally stated that they didn’t want to help at all. Their argument was based on the fictional idea that we wouldn’t help them if they had dropped Old Glory themselves. I feel a lot of anger toward them for that. We are over four months in and should be working as a squad, but some continue to have negative attitudes and no desire to change.

All that said, I know that I can only control my thoughts, feelings, and actions. And I am not staff. I just wish staff would do something about these people instead of pushing them through the program and back out on the streets. I’ve worked so hard to be where I am now, and it just doesn’t seem fair. And it isn’t, is it?

Rip Van Winkle

VINCE

India squad (that’s my squad) got to watch a graduation ceremony today.  It was pretty cool.  Every month, two squads graduate, and two squads that are two months away from the door get to watch.  So, now we know what to expect.

It’s a huge deal, being released from prison.  It’s literally the only day most prisoners look forward to.  The big difference for us is that we aren’t leaving through locked doors and razor-wire fences.  Going home for us means the beginning of a new challenge: Phase II.

“Mastery items”: that’s a synonym with hobbies.  You’re right Mom, agate hunting is a good diversion.  So will be running, weight lifting, cooking, and meetings.  All things I enjoy doing.  We’ve spent some time going over our mastery items in treatment and they will be on our daily/weekly schedule that I have to submit before I leave, and every week thereafter.  They don’t want us getting bored out there.

Another batch of new guys arrived less than an hour ago.  They are fun to watch.  They’re so scared, many of them shaking so hard they have trouble buttoning up their shirts.  Four months ago, I was the same.  We started out as squad number 12 of 12.  Today, we are 4 of 12.  And we (most of us) got our blue hats yesterday!  We are now a senior squad.

We can now teach what we have learned.  This is a very dangerous position to be in for some of us as we are held to the highest standards.  Mistakes are punished no longer with pushups, but with interventions (gigs) or L.E.s (Learning Experiences).  Most people that get kicked out of boot camp are blue hats.  I don’t think I will have any trouble.  I’ve been a good boy so far.  I’ve done all I can to show that I’m paying attention here.  I will most likely be the leader of our squad during graduation march.  Some of our squad still can’t call right on their right foot.  Officers will be paying more attention to them now.

[ANNE: A friend sent me a story from the New York Times Magazine: “You Just Got Out of Prison, Now What?”  It follows a couple of ex-cons who volunteer to pick up men being released, then spend a day trying to ease them into a world very different from the one they left when they were incarcerated.

They pick up a guy named Dale Hammock.  He had been pulled over for not wearing a seat belt and the cops found a bag of meth in his car.  Since it was his third offense, he was sent away for 21 years.

Twenty-one years.

It’s got to be overwhelming to walk out the gates.  The volunteers take him to Target to buy jeans.  Have you noticed how many choices there are for jeans?  In 1994 it was Levis, Lees, or Sears jeans.  Now there are dozens of brands and styles—boot cut, skinny, extra long, straight leg, relaxed, low rise, and on and on.  I haven’t been in prison but I feel overwhelmed by all the choices.  The same is true in chain restaurants, which now make you sift through five menus with hundreds of options, and in the grocery store.  A couple times I have walked out of a store without buying anything because I was too paralyzed by the choices to make a decision.

Then of course there is technology.  The volunteer showed Hammock something on his smart phone and Hammock asked, ‘‘Everything now, you just touch it, and it shows you things?’’  God help him.]

Empathy 101

VINCE

Tired.  Sometimes I don’t even notice it until about this time of day because we’re so active then we eat a huge dinner then come to study hall or an AA meeting for an hour.  I’ve been sitting down for five minutes and it’s really kicking in.  Exhaustion.  But we are not only not allowed to sleep from 0520 to 2120, we are not allowed to have the appearance of sleeping.  We cannot have our eyes closed for more than a three count (the speed of which is determined by any correctional officer) or we get formal discipline.  Yesterday, they caught somebody with their eyes closed who was going to be graduating and leaving tomorrow.  Well, not now.  They added a week stay at boot camp.  That’s not something I want to do.  So, I tell myself over and over that I have plenty of energy, and find a task, like writing, to keep my brain going.

Over the past week, our squad has been working on victim impact letters.  Our job was to think of five people, places, or things that have been directly affected by our crimes, and write a letter from them, to us.  This is the first time in four months that I actually saw some real emotion.  A few guys chose society, a few their children.  I chose my Mother.  And my mother is a good writer.  🙂

I write a lot.  For every post you see out there, I write an equal amount in here.  Most of what I write in here will never be seen, most of which is mundane and would not provide anything entertaining.  Some of what I write I will eventually share with you, just not until I leave here.

I shared my letter in class today and it was very well received, especially by the people that care about things and can understand big words.

If I had written this a year ago, I think I would have felt like a piece of $@*t.  But I’ve become close with her and I’ve changed a lot of my behaviors and thinking patterns and am heading in a very good direction which I know is a huge part of making amends.  Am I just rambling on?  I really want a nap.

Long story short: I love you Mom.  I’m sorry I was a crappy son for so long.  I am fixing it now.  I’ll be home in 56 days!

[ANNE: I am dying to know what “I” wrote to Vince, but he hasn’t sent me a copy of the letter.  I have had a lot of ups and downs over the last 20 years of his addiction.  The worst was when he relapsed after nearly five years of sobriety.  During those five years, even though he wasn’t using, he still had some really big attitude problems and unproductive ways of thinking.  Now he seems changed.  I am really excited for him.  Our relationship feels transformed.  Whether it is real and lasting once he is released remains to be seen.]

Addiction: Disease or Habit?

ANNE

I chanced upon this article, Addiction is Not a Disease, by Laura Miller in Salon.  It describes how addiction used to be considered a moral failing, then was reconsidered as a disease with the rise of 12 step programs, and now neuroscientists are thinking it’s more of an extreme habit.

Miller bases her article on the book Biology of Desire by Marc Lewis, a neuroscientist who is a former addict himself.  He posits that addicts have a “particular ‘emotional wound’ the substance helped them handle, but once they started using it, the habit itself eventually became self-perpetuating and in most cases ultimately served to deepen the wound.”

The disease model has been supported by the fact that addicts’ brains are different.

“The changes wrought by addiction are not, however, permanent, and while they are dangerous, they’re not abnormal. Through a combination of a difficult emotional history, bad luck and the ordinary operations of the brain itself, an addict is someone whose brain has been transformed ….

“More and more experiences and activities get looped into the addiction experience and trigger cravings and expectations like the bells that made Pavlov’s dogs salivate, from the walk home past a favorite bar to the rituals of shooting up. The world becomes a host of signs all pointing you in the same direction and activating powerful unconscious urges to follow them. At a certain point, the addictive behavior becomes compulsive, seemingly as irresistibly automatic as a reflex. You may not even want the drug anymore, but you’ve forgotten how to do anything else besides seek it out and take it.”

The good news is that habits can be unlearned.  AA and NA and other 12 step groups do work for a lot of people.  Others may need cognitive behavioral therapy, or meditation, or something else, or all of these things.  It’s kind of like how I fought long-term depression by trying everything, until something broke through.

I’m all for understanding the causes of things, in case that knowledge points to new solutions.  I’m also big on measuring success to discover what works.  This article in Scientific American basically concludes “we don’t know” whether AA works because (in my lay language) it’s too loosey goosey to study with the gold standard of the randomized clinical trial.  It works for some people and not for others, and there are probably as many reasons for both outcomes as there are members.

On a long drive a few evenings after reading the article about how addiction is not a disease, I caught this one-hour podcast about the history of Alcoholics Anonymous.  I knew most of the story already, how two chronic inebriates, Dr. Bob and Bill W., found each other and developed the AA program based on something called the Oxford Group, which had gotten started in England and which was overtly religious.

The story is poignant.  Both Bill and Bob were headed for early graves.  Instead, they met each other.  Talking about their problem with someone who also had it worked some magic that no amount of nagging by their wives or warnings from doctors could.  Bill’s wife Lois and another recovering alcoholic’s wife, Anne, founded Alanon, to help them recover from their own insanity caused by living with alcoholics.

There are lots of “gurus” out there who will tell you that you have to go to AA or Alanon every week for the rest of your life, or that you have to give up every mood-altering substance—from heroin to caffeine to sugar—or that “real” meditation is only done in the early morning, for a minimum of 45 minutes, sitting in the lotus position.

I say, be open to trying a variety of solutions, and equally willing to stop using things that aren’t working.  Why would you want to limit your options when you’re up against something that could make your life miserable, kill you, or land you in prison?

A Simple Plan

VINCE

This morning we had another weigh in.  This time on the fancy scale in the Health Services.  My math was a little off I think when I last mentioned my weight because I had used the scale in the weight room.  Anyhow I weighed in at 181 pounds with 11% body fat.  That’s eight pounds less than last time.

I wasn’t sure what to make of that, but then the Physical Trainer said it was very good.  I’ve lost 20 pounds since I got to boot camp and 35 pounds over the last year.

My goal which I set for myself is only six pounds away, and I have two months to reach it.  I will succeed.

62 days and a wake up.  Some days, it seems too far, some not.  I’m exhausted.  Must keep going.

We had our brown hat reviews today.  I did as well as I expected I would.  I will be getting my new hat as soon as the two graduating squads leave this coming Tuesday.

This is the final phase in the incarceration part of the program.  We’ve made it through 18 weeks.  Eight weeks to go of the highest level of expectations.

Not all of us earned out hats, but they will over the next two weeks.  As a squad, we did pretty well.  And, as a 17 man squad, we have already lost over 300 pounds!

Summer is here.  I don’t remember every day being so humid as a child.  Maybe it just didn’t affect me as much.  Who knows.  I’m sitting at my “desk” (my desk is my lap with a folder on which I write.) and the A.C. is on full blast but my clothes are still sticking to me.  Yuck.  Always wearing our full khaki uniform has its disadvantages.

The book I started last week, A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson, is amazing.  It explains everything clearly that I never understood in biology, chemistry, astronomy, mineralogy, etc.  Ok I never took some of those classes.  Anyhow, I’m learning a lot about how much it took for me to be in existence, and how lucky we are to be here now.  And, in relation to everything around us, how little time we have to enjoy.  I don’t ever want to waste any more time being locked up.  Such a waste.  All I have to do is never get high or drunk again and I should be alright.  So, that’s my plan.

Softball, Kitten Ball, Hard Ball

VINCE

It’s my down day again.  They keep coming so fast, and only nine to go.

Today, I chose to be lazy.  I’m going to play cribbage as much as I can, and not do any treatment work.  I may sound like a rebel there but I don’t actually have any treatment work to do.

It’s been a huge boost to my confidence hearing that people are so willing to help me out.  I think it probably has a lot to do with the fact that they know a lot about my situation vs. just being some ex-convict in need.

Right now I’m sitting in my chair and everybody is being loud.  It’s so hard to concentrate sometimes.  In a few minutes though, I’m going outside to play kitten ball which is exactly like softball except for the ball is even bigger and actually soft.

[ANNE: I filed a request for aid with the ACLU (American Civil Liberties Union) back in March.  One of my neighbors (before I moved twice) is the executive director of the Minnesota chapter.  I took a risk and told her about Vince.  It always feels like a risk, doing that, although I’ve never received anything but kind words of support.

I had just received my BAN notice, and I specifically asked her if she thought I had any legal recourse.

She responded via email:

I am so sorry to read your email, your blog, and then think about you dealing with all this pain while at the same time looking for a place to move, packing and moving.

Prison administrators have a great deal of latitude in how they deal with inmates and visitors, so there may not be an infringement of constitutional rights here.  However, if there is a hook we can find that would indicate that your denial of visiting rights is retaliation for what you said, we might be able to do some advocacy for you.

I would suggest that you go on line and fill out an intake form.  Our process is all volunteer driven and we get far more requests than we can take on, but it would be worth your time to try.  Here’s the link to the form: http://www.aclu-mn.org/legal/fileacomplaint/

Again, I am so sorry.  I hope that we can help.

So I filed the complaint, and forgot about it.

Four months later.  I got a letter from the ACLU saying they couldn’t take my case.  Basically, due to their limited resources and all-volunteer attorneys, they have to prioritize cases that they think they can win, that won’t drain a lot of resources, and that will have an impact on lots of people.

My case…well it was really only a case of “he said/she said.”  I understand completely and I’m not surprised except that it took them four months to respond.

The six-month ban will end on July 30.  I will submit (the perfect word) my request for visitor’s privileges next week.  I am nervous that it may be rejected.  I still don’t know if they’re aware of the blog and may decide to “teach me a lesson” and “show me whose boss.”

If I am denied, then by the time Vince is released in September it will have been over eight months since I’ve seen him.  He’s excited about his graduation ceremony.  If I’m not approved to visit, I’ll have to just sit in my car out in the parking lot, I guess, until the ceremony is over and they send him out the gate.]

An Inspector Calls

The Department of Corrections sent an agent to inspect my condo and interview me.  Her title on her card is “CIP/ISR Agent.”  She is one of four agents monitoring 80 boot camp participants across five or six counties.

The agent (I’ll call her Holly) was one of those tall, corn-fed, blond Minnesotans with ruddy cheeks.  She was late because she’d come from visiting another mom whose son had been in for murder since he was 15—that was 22 years ago, which makes him the same age as Vince now.

“So she had a lot of questions,” she said.  Yeah, no kidding.  I had a lot too.  Holly walked through the condo but didn’t open the fridge or closets as I’d been told she has the right to do.  If I told you where I had stashed my beer and wine during her visit, I’d have to kill you.  (I will honor with the “no alcohol/drugs/firearms” policy once Vince is here, but he’s not here for over a month.)

She seemed awed by the condo.  “This isn’t like the typical house we see,” she said.  “Most of them are pretty run down.”

She explained that they would come to the house three times a week at random times.  It could be 5am or 3pm or 3am.  They can search the premises without a warrant at any time.  I guess I hadn’t realized that Vince will technically still be a prisoner, just one who is serving out his term in the family home.

She said Vince can’t leave town, have any other ex offenders over (whew!), or possess booze, drugs, or guns.  He won’t be released with an ankle bracelet but they will slap one on him if he makes a misstep.  During their three weekly visits they will do urinalysis tests and if they aren’t clean Vince will go straight back inside.

Holly told me I would need to get a land line but she backed off from me having to install a doorbell, which was a relief.  “We’ll just rap on the front window,” was her solution.

Vince will be allowed to search for work from 10am to 2pm weekdays.  He can to a workforce center or do it from home.  I went to a workforce center when I was unemployed a few years ago and they are great resources but they are depressing because they are full of unemployed people.

I asked if they would help Vince find a job, or give him leads.  She said they do pass along information, like the fact that Target refuses to hire ex offenders so he shouldn’t bother with them.

I told her that I was planning to let Vince use my car to look for work and she reminded me that he would have to be added to my insurance.  So we’ll put that plan on ice until I find out how much it will cost, and until Vince has a job and can pay for it.

I asked if Vince would have health insurance and she said he could apply for Medical Assistance.

I asked if it was a problem if I traveled, especially outside of the country, and she said no.

I asked her advice—should I set a time limit on how long he should live with me and if so how long?  She said they don’t give advice; that it’s up to Vince and me to set ground rules.

At the end of the visit we talked about his graduation ceremony and actual release and I fessed up that I had been banned and wasn’t sure if I’d be allowed in.  She was shocked and said she’d never heard of such a situation.  “The ceremony is really cool, so I hope you’ll get to see it,” were her parting words.

Arrrrrrs

VINCE

Yesterday our squad had our AARs.  I don’t recall what that acronym stands for but I do know it’s where we turn in our addresses for release to our case manager.

Now it is of my opinion that my mother moved from her apartment to her condo to avoid having to tell (or ask) a landlord for permission to have a felon living in the apartment.  Well, it may still come up.

You see, my mother may own a condo, but somebody else may own the land that it’s on, and they would still have to be informed of my situation.

I only get one phone call every two weeks so I can’t tell her until Sunday but I think she may worry about having to do that.  I suppose I could have waited to write this until I spoke with her but I’m in study hall right now and I’m all caught up with my assignments.

This will all work out.  In fact, everything that I worried about or was afraid of since I arrived at boot camp has worked out just fine.  I look back almost four months when I thought I could never run more than a mile, or go through 182 days without a nap.  Well, the no nap part is still hard some days.  Enough on that.

Holding it all together.  Almost.  That’s the way I look at the year prior to my arrest in December 2013.

I had a full time job in Lanesboro.  More often than not, I still showed up early and held it together for 11 hours at an outdoor grill working in front of people.  Some days I was able to keep standing only through heavy concentration because I hadn’t slept for days and I had been driving around all night selling drugs.  Being a short-order/line cook is one tough job, and I could still do it but I made a lot of mistakes.  Some nights I would have to look at a ticket over and over because I couldn’t commit it to memory.  I was wasting moves, as we call it.

Arms flying all over the place but not actually doing anything.  So much stress.  Nobody knew about my other life.  Nobody knew that the power was out in my apartment, or that I had to use the bathroom a lot so I could hit my meth pipe to keep going.  Or that I didn’t have vision because I didn’t have any more contact lenses and I literally could not see more than three feet away with any clarity, part of the reason I had to move back and forth so many times to read tickets.

I was a hot mess.  I can’t believe nobody ever asked me what was wrong with me.  But it was all over in mid-October.  At that point I began selling full time and it just got worse.

I spent the next couple months in various hotel rooms so I wouldn’t have to face the music back at my apartment in Fountain.  Hotel hopping, so nobody would see a pattern of in and out, in and out.  All my drug profits went to my personal high, scratch offs, and gas.  And food every now and then if I thought about it.  Somehow, for reasons unknown, I didn’t care.  I didn’t care about me, my family, or my real friends.  And I showed them by abandoning everything.

I am so grateful for this place.  And I’m proud of myself for sticking it out.  Nothing about boot camp is meant to be easy.  And it’s not.  But I have pushed myself harder and farther than I ever have.  Even when nobody else is looking.

Vince Maertz, PhD

VINCE

Today we got to play tug-of-war with our brothers in Hotel squad.  They came in the same day as us, India squad, about an hour before we arrived, so they have seniority on us for everything.  We lined up on the volleyball court.  16 men on each side and a thick red rope travelling the length of the court.

The rules were simple, not tying knots and no letting go.  It was a best of two out of three contest in which we did not need the third try, we were stronger.  We all cheered and felt pretty good about ourselves.

I also saw myself in a mirror today in just a T-shirt.  It’s been a while.  We are nearly always in our full khaki uniform and I couldn’t believe my eyes.  I looked good.  Defined pecs, trim stomach, and powerful arms.   I could have been a model for a boot camp ad in my khaki pants, grey T and shiny belt buckle.  I really am beginning to see the results of all my hard work.

Happy.

On the opposite pole, there is negativity all around me.  People just don’t want to do any work to get an early release.

I’ve written before that everybody here is in chemical dependency treatment even though not everybody here has or had a problem with drugs.  So, on occasion, I hear people talking about the fact that they aren’t weak-minded pu*#@s that can’t control their own lives, and other such comments.  I understand that life isn’t fair, and that part of this program is about punishment, but these guys get released into the general public at the same time too.  They do minimal work, minimal exercise, and they always have bad attitudes.  It sucks.

I got to go to the library.  That’s why Fridays are my favorite day.  I say that, to say this: The other day I wrote that I had been pondering such things as the existence of time and space and life and what not.  Well, today a book caught my eye, A Short History of Nearly Everything, by Bill Bryson.  I read the thing on the back of the book that makes you want to read a book and it basically said it would answer all of my questions in a sort of simple, sometimes humorous way.  I’ve only read the introduction so far but it has me captivated.  I even read the first two paragraphs of Chapter 1 which starts to explain what a proton is and already can tell that I will be able to understand it.  So I’m a scientist now.  Wait, are scientists Doctors?  Maybe this book will tell me.

[ANNE: I love Bill Bryson, who is definitely not a scientist.  I just re-read his book about traveling around Europe, Neither Here or There, because I am going to Germany in a couple weeks.  I think I’ll pick up this book Vince is reading and see if I too can become a scientist.  I tried reading Stephen Hawking’s A Brief History of Time and couldn’t get past the second page.]

Bill Clinton Confesses

ANNE

No, it’s not what you think!  But Bill’s confession at the end of this July 16 editorial in the New York Times is a positive thing, and I think the piece is worth publishing verbatim, even if it is a bit longer than our usual posts.

President Obama Takes on the Prison Crisis

On Thursday, for the first time in American history, a president walked into a federal prison. President Obama was there to see for himself a small piece of the damage that the nation’s decades-long binge of mass incarceration has wrought.

Mr. Obama’s visit to El Reno, a medium-security prison in Oklahoma, capped off a week in which he spoke powerfully about the failings of a criminal justice system that has damaged an entire generation of Americans, locking up millions — disproportionately men of color — at a crippling cost to them, their families and communities, as well as to the taxpayers and society as a whole.

Speaking to reporters after touring the cells, Mr. Obama reflected on the people he met there. “These are young people who made mistakes that aren’t that different than the mistakes that I made, and the mistakes that a lot of you guys made. The difference is they did not have the kinds of support structures, the second chances, the resources that would allow them to survive those mistakes.”

This indisputable argument has been made by many others, most notably former Attorney General Eric Holder Jr., who was the administration’s most powerful advocate for sweeping justice reforms. But it is more significant coming from the president, not just in his words but in his actions. On Monday Mr. Obama commuted the sentences of 46 people, most serving 20 years or more, for nonviolent drug crimes. It was a tiny fraction of the more than 30,000 people seeking clemency, but the gesture recognized some of the injustices of America’s harsh justice system.

On Tuesday, in a wide-ranging speech to the N.A.A.C.P. [National Association for the Advancement of Colored People], Mr. Obama explained that people who commit violent crimes are not the reason for the exploding federal prison population over the last few decades. Most of the growth has come instead from nonviolent, low-level drug offenders caught up in absurdly harsh mandatory minimum sentences that bear no relation to the seriousness of their offense or to the maintenance of public safety.

“If you’re a low-level drug dealer, or you violate your parole, you owe some debt to society,” Mr. Obama said. “You have to be held accountable and make amends. But you don’t owe 20 years. You don’t owe a life sentence.”

Mandatory minimums like these should be reduced or eliminated completely, he said. Judges should have more discretion to shape sentences and to use alternatives to prison, like drug courts or community programs, that are cheaper and can be more effective at keeping people from returning to crime.

Mr. Obama also put a spotlight on intolerable conditions, like overuse of solitary confinement in which more than 80,000 inmates nationwide are held on any given day. Many are being punished for minor infractions or are suffering from mental illness. “Do we really think it makes sense to lock so many people alone in tiny cells for 23 hours a day, sometimes for months or even years at a time?” Mr. Obama asked. He said he asked the Justice Department to review this practice.

He talked about community investment, especially in early-childhood education and in lower-income minority communities, as the best way to stop crime before it starts. And he spoke of the importance of removing barriers to employment, housing and voting for former prisoners. “Justice is not only the absence of oppression,” Mr. Obama said, “it is the presence of opportunity.”

As Mr. Obama acknowledged, however, his powers are limited. Any comprehensive solution to this criminal justice catastrophe must come from Congress and the state legislatures which for decades enacted severe sentencing laws and countless other harmful measures. In recent years, the opposite trend has taken hold as lawmakers in both conservative and liberal states have reduced populations in state prisons — where the vast majority of inmates are held — as well as crime rates.

It’s time that Congress fixed the federal system. After failed efforts at reform, an ambitious new bill called the SAFE Justice Act is winning supporters, including, on Thursday, the House speaker, John Boehner, and may have enough bipartisan support to pass. It would, among several other helpful provisions, eliminate mandatory minimums for many low-level drug crimes and create educational and other programs in prison that have been shown to reduce recidivism.

One sign of how far the politics of criminal justice has shifted was a remark by former president Bill Clinton, who signed a 1994 law that played a key role in the soaring growth of America’s prison system. On Wednesday, Mr. Clinton said, “I signed a bill that made the problem worse. And I want to admit it.” It was a long overdue admission, and another notable moment in a week full of them.