What’s justice?

Given the extent to which Arkansas incarcerates people who break its laws, it was perhaps seen as a no-brainer among lawmakers that Gov. Sarah Sanders’ plan to spend $470 million for a new prison was a necessity.

Lawmakers in the recent legislative session approved $330 million for prison facilities, which Sanders said covered year one of the construction effort. Additional funding will be needed to complete the facility, she said.

The project is part of Arkansas’ overhaul of its criminal justice system, which included changes to state laws to mandate that people convicted of 18 of the most violent felonies will have to serve 100% of the sentences doled out by juries and judges. In 53 other types of crimes, the state will require those convicted to serve at least 85% of their sentences before being eligible for release under supervision.

If a person convicted of a crime that requires them to serve 85% or more of their sentence violates their terms of release, they would have to serve the remainder of their previous sentence plus the entirety of the sentence they receive for the violation.

Do you get the sense Arkansas is really going to need those new prison beds?

When measured by the number of state inmates backlogged in county jails, a case can certainly be made that the state needs new prison beds. It has been relying on county jails — paid for by local taxpayers to address local crime — to take up the slack for the state’s inadequate space. Just based on fairness to local communities, the state ought to pull its weight and ease the burden it’s placed on local jails for years.

At first glance, adding 3,000 beds sounds like a great way to do that. But what about those heightened requirements that will require longer stays for many inmates? Those may not change the number of people in prison, but it undoubtedly will impact how long those individuals take up space within the prison system. So how much did the state really reduce the burden on local jails? Is the state really helping to solve the local jail crowding issues? That remains to be seen.

Beyond that is the question of whether longer sentences deter people from committing crimes. Count us among the skeptical.

Think about it: How many people commit crimes believing they will get caught? They almost always think they’re going to be the one who gets away with it. Beyond that, how may people pondering a crime thumb through the Arkansas Code to evaluate which sentences apply to which crimes? Does anyone choose their crime based on the severity of the potential punishment?

The U.S. Department of Justice’s National Institute of Justice reports that increasing the severity of punishment does not deter crime precisely because criminals know little about the sanctions they’ll face if they’re caught. Certainly there’s the valid notion that a criminal in jail won’t be committing new crimes, but the institute reports that longer prison sentences can turn prisons, more or less, into schools of criminal behaviors where inmates learn more about trying to perfect their crimes.

The federal agency reports the certainty of getting caught is a vastly more powerful deterrent than the length of punishment. Does that suggest less investment in lengthening sentences and more investment in law enforcement expansions and practices that increase the odds criminals will be caught and punished?

“I do think this sends a strong message that will have a deterrent effect,” said Rep. Jimmy Gazaway of Paragould, who sponsored some of the get-tough-on-criminals legislation during the latest session. Asked about the deterrent impact of longer sentences, Gazaway said determining how many people don’t commit a crime because of the penalties is hard.

No doubt. It’s proving a negative. Still, consider your own decision-making: How many crimes have you chosen not to commit only because of the potential penalty involved? Have you not assaulted someone because you’d have to serve 85% of the sentence, but if

it was only 55% you’d start the beat-down immediately? Do the percentages change behaviors?

Rational people obey laws because they (1) strive to lead morale lives or (2) they know a behavior is against the law and adjust how they behave accordingly.

Nonetheless, it does matter that sentences have some real meaning, not so much for the criminals but for the victims. If the sentence on the books is 20 years, how disconcerting is it to victims when their assailant gets out after eight years? When jurors and judges hand down a sentence, those relying on the courts for justice should be able to trust the numbers they’re hearing. It seems good public policy that when the state says 20 years, it should mean something close to 20 years. Time credited for good behavior still should be a factor as an incentive for people in prison to follow the rules, but that should shave some time off, not result in people serving a tiny fraction of their sentences.

What happens while people are caught up in the criminal justice system probably matters more than whether a sentence is 10 years or 18 years.

We’re talking about programs designed to help keep people from simply returning to lives of crime once they’re released from prison.

We’re glad to hear the newly passed criminal justice legislation includes efforts to prepare incarcerated people to enter the workforce successfully once they’ve served their time. Even opponents to the legislation gave it credit for its support of specialty courts, such as drug, veterans or mental health courts. They’re designed to custom-design treatment, education and other opportunities so that the person leaving prison is far better prepared to face life in the “real world” and not choose crime again.

Gazaway acknowledged the need to address poverty, educational gaps and lack of opportunities for released inmates.

Advocates for criminal justice reform push for the Steve Austin approach. In the 1970s TV show “The Six Million Dollar Man,” test pilot Austin crashed and nearly died, but they turned him into The Bionic Man with technology. Every episode began with a segment recalling the push to make him “Better than he was before. Better. Stronger. Faster.”

Reformers say the state and local communities are better served by investing in people through education, help finding and thriving in jobs, housing assistance, providing services for mental illness and substance abuse, giving help to navigate the foreseeable post-incarceration stumbling blocks likely to divert people back toward criminal behaviors, eliminating court and other fees that do little more than create economic burdens.

The new legislation seeks to suspend court fines for incarcerated defendants for 120 days after they are released from custody, which is at least a start.

Rehabilitation should not be viewed as coddling offenders. Otherwise, we must acknowledge that prisons prevent crime only so long as they warehouse prisoners and not by actually changing their capabilities, their outlook and their opportunities for different lives than the ones that led them to prison in the first place.

Everything points to the need for rehabilitation, but such programs often get short shrift. Something like 95% of prison inmates will eventually be released back into their communities. Do Arkansans prefer that they’re drawn immediately back into criminal acts or that they’ve been provided the tools that make crimefree lives possible? The state must put its money where it has the best effect.