Don’t wall our young people in

Strap yourself in for some sobering reading. The Royal Commission into Historical Abuse in State Care is still sorting out its terms of reference, but when it opens its doors in the near future, the people who come forward, and their stories, are likely to disturb and shake to the core those Kiwi ‘‘values’’ we apparently hold so dear.

We have no doubt that, as Children’s Commissioner Andrew Becroft has already concluded, we will wonder why the doors remain open on many state-run institutions for at-risk children and youths; we may even ponder why we opened them in the first place.

He describes such facilities as relics and an ‘‘example of failed practices’’ that are now ‘‘outmoded’’ and ‘‘ineffective’’.

Beyond the likely examples of abuse and neglect, he suggests the greater failure is a lack of investment in the future, a future we see in our children and speak of often, but one shaped by words, not deeds.

It’s poignant that Becroft should be highlighting this issue. Not because of his role as children’s commissioner but because of his previous position as the principal youth court judge.

His heartfelt plea is based on the painful experience of sending a long line of young people into these relics, including ‘‘prison-like’’ orphanages and state-run residences in such places as Christchurch, Wellington and Auckland.

Becroft’s admission echoes that of previous prime minister Bill English, who concluded that prisons had been a moral and fiscal failure.

Those concerns are backed up by decades of research. Children sent to such facilities were out of sight and out of mind, but they were not out of danger, and neither were we, despite the warm glow from our revisionist eyewear.

More than 3000 children and young people appeared in court in 1992-93, when our population was barely 3.5 million. Now we are nudging 4.7m and fewer than 1800 are standing before a judge. Over the past 10 years it has dropped 64 per cent. There is actually less youth crime.

Some may argue that such statistics highlight a success in those tried and true practices, but they actually demonstrate a greater effort over the past 20 years to match Becroft’s words with action and work with vulnerable youth to keep them off that long, miserable path.

Children in trouble today are more likely to get diversion through police youth aid or attend family group conferences than stand in front of a judge. That keeps them out of youth facilities and prison, from which the likelihood of reoffending balloons.

But let’s consider that number again: 1800. That many people could fit into a good-size school hall.

Becroft and others believe that, rather than sticking these children and youths behind a wall, a better investment would be to work with them earlier and support them in school and at home. And should they stumble, have them stay in smaller, well-supervised community homes.

This will cost money, but as the campaign to cut our prison muster demonstrates, many millions spent on support and the prevention of crime can save billions of dollars in new prisons and social costs later. The numbers support it, the politicians know it; now it’s time to let the evidence have its day. It’s time for some leadership.

‘‘. . . many millions spent on support and the prevention of crime can save billions of dollars in

new prisons and social costs later’’.