ABOUT THE SHERIFF’S JAIL ‘PROGRESS REPORT’

Just a few days short of the one-year anniversary of a harsh state audit blasting excessive deaths at the jails run by the San Diego County Sheriff ’s Department, the department released an 11-page “progress report” detailing its responses to some of the many conclusions of the audit.

On its face, the notion that the agency can claim clear signs of “progress” is open to question. After the Feb. 3 resignation of Sheriff Bill Gore — on the same day the audit was made public — the county’s seven detention facilities had 19 deaths in 2022 — and a 20th person who had just been released from jail died in the hospital. This set a grim new record and reinforced the idea that the department’s culture as a whole was driving the problem. Gore was right to note staffing issues and a huge uptick in fentanyl overdoses also contribute to problems in county jails, but he also refused to acknowledge the basic evidence that his jails had a higher rate of deaths than those in other large counties around California. The department’s new report shows some progress as well as an ongoing recalcitrance.

Some of its representations of progress are backed by clear evidence, starting with beefed-up medical and mental-health screening of new inmates to ensure they are placed in the most appropriate housing. New rules also require thorough documentation of interactions between inmates and medical and mental staff members, in particular cases in which inmates declined treatment.

Some of the report’s provisions sound good but are hard to corroborate, including claims of a much better record in responding to medical requests from people in custody. “In August 2022, the department began the practice of requiring nurses to schedule an individual for an appointment with a provider upon receipt of two requests from an incarcerated individual regarding any condition,” the report said. “The nursing staff is currently doing face-to-face assessments within 24 hours of receipt of a request for medical services to determine the urgency of that request.” The report noted these policies meet national standards, so it’s possible to see this as significant. It’s also possible to read it as lip service that ignores the principle of triage — getting care quickly to those who most need it — by following the letter of bureaucratic law in determining how long to respond to inmate requests.

And some of the report’s claims clash with reality, starting with the idea that the department has been much more transparent. The report says the department “on its own initiative” had been providing death data on its website for two years. But much of that data was added only after its absence was raised publicly by a member of The San Diego Union-tribune Editorial Board during a candidates’ forum in October. And this month, newly elected Sheriff Kelly Martinez backed away from her most important campaign promise: to make analyses from the department’s Critical Incident Review Board of in-custody deaths publicly available. This is not required by state law, but going back on a promise only raises more questions about secrecy.

Also telling is that the department said three policy revisions urged in the year-old audit won’t come until later this year — which isn’t progress yet, by definition — and that the department rejects the recommendation that it should be more supportive of the Citizens Law Enforcement Review Board — asserting it has a “well-established record” of such support. The claim came in a paragraph in which the department noted sworn employees have the “option” of rejecting face-to-face interviews with CLERB investigators. In his response to the report, Paul Parker — CLERB’S executive officer — confirmed progress on medical and mental-health screening, but he was incredulous that Martinez balks at his board’s call to have all jail employees be scanned for drugs when they enter any facility.

Has the Sheriff ’s Department made some progress and does it need time for more? Sure. But context is crucial. This is a department that resists transparency, hamstrings internal investigations and doesn’t take enough steps to keep deadly drugs away from inmates. As such, applause for its recent changes isn’t just premature — it is unmerited.