When a private prison company came to small-town Wyoming (audio)
Should companies profit from incarceration? In one Wyoming town, residents grapple with the costs of building a private immigration detention center.
The private prison industry is often held up as an example of the worst ills of mass incarceration. Reports of unsafe conditions, underpaid employees, and other cost-cutting measures have dogged private corrections for decades.
And yet the industry itself makes up only about 2% of the $182 billion that goes into incarceration in the U.S. every year. So why do these companies get so much flak? And what would closing down private prisons really mean for justice reform in the country?
In this episode, our reporters take you to Evanston, Wyoming, an old oil town near the Utah border. The county鈥檚 plan to build a private immigration detention center tells the story of the money that flows in and out of our prison system 鈥� and the moral dilemma it creates.
Episode transcript
[Audio clips of broadcasts about private prisons]
[News Channel 5: 鈥淥ne of the largest private prison companies in the country is receiving backlash from community groups鈥︹�漖
[CCTV English: 鈥�...are paying huge sums of money to private prison companies or for-profit prisons ...鈥漖
[CBS News:鈥�...more inmates means more money and private prisons are looking to make a profit鈥︹�漖
[News Channel 5: 鈥�...they want the leader of the private prison industry to stop making money off of inmates.鈥漖
Samantha Laine Perfas: The private prison is a powerful symbol of mass incarceration in America. Since emerging in the 1980s, they鈥檝e for justice reform advocates, politicians, and the public.
Pete Bass: 鈥�...my biggest problem is private prisons. They鈥檙e going to cut their budgets, get rid of help, crowd more people in, and that鈥檚 how they make their money鈥︹��
Brenda Richins: 鈥�...the private detention part, that鈥檚 something that should be the responsibility of our government. They shouldn鈥檛 be part of the economy鈥︹��
Sam: And yet: private prisons make up a much smaller chunk of the American prison system than most people think. And just shutting them down may not do very much to fix the problems in our justice system.
That鈥檚鈥� a perception gap.
[Theme music]
I鈥檓 Samantha Laine Perfas, and this is 鈥淧erception Gaps: Locked Up,鈥� by 海角大神.
[Theme music]
Welcome back to Season 2! If you鈥檝e just joined us, this is our fourth episode of the season, which has been all about perceptions of the U.S. criminal justice system. So if you haven鈥檛 yet, we encourage you to go back and listen to our previous episodes. You can find everything at csmonitor.com/perceptiongaps (or wherever you get your podcasts).
[Music]
Sam: Let鈥檚 start with a definition. When we talk about private prisons, what we鈥檙e referring to, generally, are prisons, jails, and detention centers run by for-profit companies . They were originally created to respond to a need 鈥� public prisons and jails were overcrowded, and so the private sector stepped in to provide the government more capacity.
Since then, they鈥檝e grown enormously. But:
Bernadette Rabuy: Private corrections really is a small portion of the criminal justice system. There is a lot of money in mass incarceration. There鈥檚 a lot of people benefiting from mass incarceration. But that鈥檚 not just happening in private prisons.
Sam: That鈥檚 Bernadette Rabuy, a senior policy analyst at the Prison Policy Initiative, a non-profit research and advocacy organization that studies mass incarceration. In 2017, Bernadette co-authored a report about the money that flows in and out of the justice system.
The report found that, of the $182 billion dollars that goes into incarceration in the U.S. every year, goes to private prison companies. And of people behind bars are housed in privately managed prisons, jails, and detention centers. So, from a big-picture perspective, closing them down wouldn鈥檛 really do much to end mass incarceration.
And yet for-profit prisons , .
[Audio clip from MSNBC, Bernie Sanders: 鈥�... We need to make sure that we end private ownership of prisons鈥︹�漖
Why?
For one thing, size is relative. Our prison and jail system is so sprawling that in even a fraction of that pie, hundreds of thousands of people are affected, even as millions are affected in public, government-run facilities.
Private prison companies have also expanded 鈥� particularly in immigration. In 2017, were confined in private immigration detention centers. That鈥檚 a 442% increase since 2002.
At the same time, of unsafe conditions, underpaid employees, and other cost-cutting measures have continued to fuel criticisms against the industry. And then, Bernadette says:
Bernadette: It鈥檚 disturbing to a lot of people that we have such a thing. That there are companies where their sole business is to make money off of locking people up.
Sam: In this episode, we hear different perspectives about the private prison industry, and break down the thinking behind them.
Just to be clear: the point of this episode is not to convince you that for-profit facilities are better or worse than public ones. What we are trying to do is look at the vast amounts of money that go into our criminal justice system 鈥� because we wanted to know: if the for-profit industry isn鈥檛 benefiting the most, then who is? And what can this cash flow reveal about how the industry operates?
[Music]
We begin in Evanston, Wyoming, a town of less than 12,000 people that鈥檚 about an hour and a half drive from Salt Lake City.
My colleagues Henry Gass and Jessica Mendoza visited back in February, because at the time, it was set to be the site of a new privately-run immigration detention center. Things have changed a lot since then. But while we were there, we learned just how complicated feelings were in the community about private prison facilities.
[Wind blowing]
Jessica Mendoza: Boy, the wind is鈥� whew.
Henry Gass: So the wind is just ripping over. Part of the one thousand acres, we believe, that鈥檚 part of the proposed site.
Jess: It鈥檚 quite pretty.
Henry: Yeah, there are some mountains in the distance.
Sam: Evanston is an old oil town in Uinta County, one of hundreds across rural America that have been hit hard by the decline in the fossil fuel industry.
In 2017, a private prison company, , or MTC, came to the county with a proposal to build a 500-bed facility meant to house immigrants in the region detained by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, or ICE. ICE contracts with to run detention facilities around the country.
Mark Anderson: They approached the county because the county had 鈥� has 鈥� a thousand acres just on the outskirts of Evanston here.
Mark Anderson, I am county commissioner here in Uinta County, Wyoming.
Sam: Mark was elected in 2018 鈥� so after MTC had first made the offer. But he was born and raised in the small Wyoming town. He had heard plenty about the plan before he became a county official.
Mark: The number one question I was asked before I got elected, you know, 鈥榃hat is your position on the detention center?鈥� That was the number one question I was asked.
Sam: Voters cared about his answer because it was an issue that divided the community. Then MTC . And CoreCivic, one of the biggest private prison companies in the country, stepped in. For Mark and other county officials, the promise of jobs 鈥� both short-term, hourly jobs and long-term, high-salary ones 鈥� was hard to dismiss.
Mark: The construction of it will bring revenue with the workers that will build it. The project is estimated to be a $160 million project.
Sam: CoreCivic said the sales tax of anything purchased during construction would go to Uinta County 鈥�
Mark: 鈥� and then long term, after it鈥檚 up and operational, they鈥檙e estimating that there will be 260 full-time positions that will offer new employment, diverse employment, to our community. We have to be able to diversify and not just pray and hope that the oil and gas industry is just going to take back off, 鈥榗ause it doesn鈥檛 look like it鈥檚 going to.
Sam: There were some small-business owners downtown who, like Mark, said that they鈥檇 welcome anything that might give Evanston an economic boost. We鈥檒l hear from them in a bit. But there were also plenty of residents who told us the tradeoff just didn鈥檛 feel worth it.
Kortney Booth: I鈥檓 just completely against it. I don鈥檛 want this in my town. I don鈥檛 want to raise my kids in a town that would do this.
Sam: Kortney Booth is a member of Wyo Say No, a local advocacy group supported by the ACLU. She and another local activist, Lupita Palma, said that the project sparked all kinds of fears.
Kortney: I talked to a lot of business owners who are afraid to speak out. They鈥檙e against it but they鈥檙e afraid to lose customers.
Lupita Palma: And I feel like a lot of the Hispanic community is against it, but they鈥檙e also scared to voice their opinion and go against it as well.
Sam: That was Lupita, speaking to the conversations happening in her community. The two women also pointed to Rawlins, Wyoming, a town not unlike Evanston. The difference is that Rawlins is home to the Wyoming State Penitentiary.
Lupita: It鈥檚 not a place I want to live in. I know that the prison is there but it looks just sucked out of life. It looks gray and sad.
Sam: But the piece that really stirred up the opposition is the fact that a private company is behind the project. This was an important point of contention.
[Audio clip of Henry and Jess entering Brenda Richins鈥檚 store]
Jess: Hello?
[Sound of door swinging]
Brenda Richins: Hello there.
Jess/Henry: Hi.
Brenda: How are you guys?
Jess/Henry: Doing well. How are you?
Brenda: Good. What can I do for ya?
Sam: Brenda Richins owns Varsity Ink, a t-shirt printing shop on Main Street. The store was about what you鈥檇 expect: shirts and jerseys hanging on racks. Many featured the logo of the Red Devils, the local high school team.
[Sounds of the store]
Jess: You do all your printing here too?
Brenda: Yeah!
Jess: That鈥檚 amazing.
Sam: Brenda鈥檚 a mother of three, and has lived most of her life in Evanston. She loves it there.
Brenda: It鈥檚 really safe. I rode my bike all over the place. My kids rode their bikes all over the place, played in the yard.
Sam: Brenda isn鈥檛 inclined to call herself an activist. But she said that when she heard about the detention center, she had to speak up.
Brenda: I don鈥檛 know if anybody would be super jazzed to have a detention center in their town. But yeah, the thing that really puts it over for me is the private detention part. It鈥檚 a part that I can鈥檛 really get past.
Jess: Could you talk about that a little bit?
Brenda: I think that we鈥檙e always going to have people who do stuff that鈥檚 not OK. We鈥檙e probably always going to need to incarcerate or detain people. But I think that that鈥檚 something that should be the responsibility of our government, and that it shouldn鈥檛 be a contributor to our economy. Like I don鈥檛 think that we would be motivated correctly if we were trying to make money off of detaining humans.
Sam: That idea 鈥� that incarceration shouldn鈥檛 be a private enterprise 鈥� cut across partisan lines in Evanston.
Pete Bass: They鈥檙e talking about building an ICE detention facility here. [They鈥檒l say,] 鈥業 see you鈥檙e wearing a Donald Trump t-shirt, so you鈥檙e probably all for it, aren鈥檛 you?鈥� And I was like, 鈥楴o, actually, I鈥檓 not.鈥�
So my name鈥檚 Pete Bass. I have this coffee shop called For Pete鈥檚 Sake, where we鈥檙e sitting. I鈥檓 also a pastor at Calvary Chapel, Evanston, Wyoming.
Pete has served time in both state prison and, because he was born in Germany, a federal INS facility in Texas 鈥� the INS being the Immigration and Naturalization Service, ICE鈥檚 predecessor. In all, Pete spent about 11 and a half years behind bars, mostly for drug-related offenses.
The coffee shop he now runs in Evanston is a homey sort of place: cozy, mismatched chairs. A corner filled with books. Every imaginable flavor of coffee available on the menu. But Pete hasn鈥檛 forgotten his time in prison. And he鈥檚 got opinions.
Pete: I guess probably the 鈥� my biggest problem is private prisons. You鈥檙e a for-profit prison, they鈥檙e going to cut their budgets, get rid of help, crowd more people in. And that鈥檚 how they make their money.
And I鈥檓 not against corporations, believe me. I believe if a guy can build up a great big corporation and sell cars and make zillions of dollars, more power to you. But these corporations that live off of this kind of thing, they don鈥檛 care about those people from Mexico, or the Honduras, or Russia, or wherever they鈥檙e from. They don鈥檛 care about them. They鈥檙e there to make a profit.
Sam: The profit motive. It鈥檚 the most enduring criticism against the private prison industry. Basically, folks like Pete and Brenda say that companies whose main goal is to make money 鈥� and whose profits are tied directly to the number of people they incarcerate 鈥� can鈥檛 be trusted. Not with the rehabilitation of criminal offenders, and not with the humane treatment of people in their custody.
This brings us back to some of the questions we raised at the start of the show. Like: What role do private prison companies really play in our justice system today? And what does their existence tell us about the system and its flaws?
[Music]
To find out, we鈥檙e going to leave Evanston for a bit and turn, first, to Lauren-Brooke Eisen, director of the Justice Program at New York University鈥檚 Brennan Center for Justice. In 2017, Lauren-Brooke published a book about the history and impact of private prisons in the U.S. She walked us through how private corrections came to be, and how they came to hold such a prominent place in the debate over mass incarceration.
Laure-Brooke Eisen: Ever since these corporations were founded in the mid-80s, our country has wrestled with the proper role of the private sector when it comes to corrections.
By the end of 1980, the nation held what was then a record of . Many prisons across the country were unhygienic, inhumane. They were suffering from overcrowding. And more than half the states, 28 states and the District of Columbia, were under court orders to reduce overcrowding.
So what happened was that state policymakers faced a choice: They either had to reduce their prison populations or build additional expensive facilities.
Sam: Just to put things in perspective: back then, 40 years ago, 329,000 people behind bars was a record. Today, we鈥檝e got locked up.
But back to what Lauren-Brooke was saying. Taxpayers in the 鈥�80s didn鈥檛 like the idea of paying for more prisons. At the same time, there was a lot of pressure on politicians to crack down on criminal offenders.
So when private corporations stepped in and said, 鈥榃hy don鈥檛 you let us take care of this?鈥� It seemed like a good solution. Except鈥� once they were in, they were in.
Lauren-Brooke: By the mid-90s, one of the biggest private corporations at the time, Corrections Corporation of America 鈥� they recently rebranded and are now known as CoreCivic 鈥� they issued an annual report to their shareholders in 1994, where they wrote: 鈥楾here are powerful market forces driving our industry and its potential has barely been touched.鈥� And that acknowledgement of the profit opportunity that was surrounding corrections at the time illustrates how corporations were viewing their ability to make money off of corrections.
Sam: Today, these private companies make somewhere a year off of prisons and other detention facilities. And yet 鈥� as we said before 鈥� those figures represent a relatively small part of incarceration spending.
[Music]
It鈥檚 true that private prisons have faced a lot of criticism over the years for a range of problems, from to practices that put cost-cutting over quality. But the data is often complex, and comparing government-run facilities with for-profit ones .
And so while it can be tempting to think of private prisons as mass incarceration, the idea is misleading. Instead, private prison companies t from a flawed, publicly-owned system, which in turn has come to depend on these companies to step in where the government falls short.
Take the growth in private immigration detention centers since the early 2000s, which happened at the same time that unauthorized immigration into. Today, about are privately run.
But the private companies aren鈥檛 causing those changes. They鈥檙e responding to them.
[Music]
Alexandra Wilkes: So I think one of the big misconceptions about the industry is that somehow the contractor-operated facilities are the ones that are driving mass incarceration, and the math just does not bear that out.
My name is Alexandra Wilkes and I serve as spokeswoman for the Day 1 Alliance.
Sam: The Day 1 Alliance is a trade association. It represents some of the country鈥檚 biggest private corrections companies, including CoreCivic. We did reach out to CoreCivic directly to ask about their work in Evanston, Wyoming, but they declined to comment. So Jess and Henry asked Alexandra to address some of the criticisms against the private prison industry in general.
Alexandra: With a taxpayer funded facility, the taxpayers are responsible for the upkeep of that facility. They鈥檙e responsible for the employees of that facility. And what you don鈥檛 want is a situation where taxpayers are left holding the bag for operating huge facilities and huge payrolls and pensions for immigration levels that don鈥檛 meet that need. And I think that one of the key reasons you need the industry is to provide flexibility.
Jess: We also need to ask about conditions inside privately run detention centers. What steps do private companies take to ensure that the people in their custody are treated humanely?
Alexandra: Any of those standards, whether it is the size of the cell, the permissions with regards to family visits 鈥� those are all set by the government. There鈥檚 this idea out there that somehow if it鈥檚 a contractor it means that the contractor is cutting corners. That鈥檚 not the case at all. If the contractor were cutting corners they wouldn鈥檛 be meeting their obligations under their government contract, which would cause a serious dispute.
And there is constant compliance monitoring of that contract. One of the facilities I visited has a daycare center. The relevant state agency that manages daycare facilities just in general, is on-site, doing inspections as they would any other day care center in the state of Texas. The relevant state agency for overseeing health inspections is looking at the cafeterias. So everywhere you look there is some person that is responsible for compliance.
Sam: Alexandra also disputed the profit-motive argument and the idea that private prison companies are steering national policy.
Alexandra: We have no say in the disposition of who comes into these centers. You know, our organizations are not Border Patrol, they are not ICE. You know, these individuals are brought into our care. And I should note from the outset that the industry actually has made it a point to never lobby on the duration or status of anyone鈥檚 immigration.
So we don鈥檛 get involved in setting immigration policy. Our companies have nothing to do with that. You know, again, we are not one of the drivers of mass incarceration. There is no perverse profit incentive for us to keep people in our care.
Sam: It is worth noting: over the years, the industry has contributed to political campaigns, including . At the time, that was a record 鈥� they鈥檝e already surpassed it in 2020.
Still, Alexandra makes the point several times throughout the conversation: private prison companies are not the main cause of mass incarceration. And to be fair, that鈥檚 true. But we鈥檙e realizing that in many ways, they鈥檙e responding to shifting politics... by following the money and . And they鈥檙e not the only ones doing it.
Here, we bring back Bernadette Rabuy. We heard from her at the beginning of the episode. She鈥檚 the co-author of the Prison Policy Initiative report on the funds that make up the criminal justice system.
Sam: At the highest level, where would you say most of the money is coming from, and where for the most part does it go?
Bernadette: The money is usually coming from the government. So that鈥檚 for the costs of prosecution or public defenders. But we also have a lot of money that鈥檚 coming from families. So that would include bail. Also, the cost of commissary: snacks, or for example right now, different hygiene products 鈥� soap, or shampoo, anything like that that they feel they need beyond what鈥� s provided to them by the government.
Sam: Bernadette added that families also pay for phone calls and video chat services. And companies can set a pretty steep rate: A dollar per minute in some cases.
Bernadette: They鈥檙e able to do that because family members don鈥檛 have a choice. If they want to see or communicate with their loved ones, they鈥檙e forced into these high rates.
Sam: So where does all that money go?
Bernadette: Public employees are a huge portion of the cost of the criminal justice system. Policing is also another huge cost. And also healthcare. That isn鈥檛 to say that we shouldn鈥檛 be advocating for the end of private prisons. But if we look at the spending, a lot of other people are making money off of people being locked up, that are not private prisons.
Sam: If we somehow did put an end to private prisons, how much of an impact do you think that would have?
Bernadette: I think it would have very little effect. It would be a powerful move, to stand up and say we aren鈥檛 OK with companies surviving on mass incarceration and profiting that way. But at the end of the day it鈥檚 such a small portion of the criminal justice system that we鈥檙e not going to get very far.
Sam: At its core, the problem with private corrections has to do with our notions of what incarceration is for, who should be in charge of it, and how the structures we鈥檝e built over time have failed to take on those questions. Here鈥檚 Lauren-Brooke Eisen again, the Brennan Center scholar who wrote a book on the history of private prisons.
Lauren-Brooke: For decades, some legal scholars and policymakers have really contended that there are certain state functions that cannot be delegated. And one of those is punishment. So opponents of the industry worry that the profit motive is very deeply at odds with the goal of corrections.
Sam: And yet, despite all the criticisms the industry faces, Lauren-Brooke says it鈥檚 able to survive because there鈥檚 never been an honest reckoning with public officials about the role these companies play. And the reason is that with the private sector stepping in 鈥�
Lauren-Brooke: 鈥� governments don鈥檛 need to reduce the flow of incarcerated people if they have capacity issues, if they have old failing infrastructure, buildings not adequate to house the number of people they need to house.
The private prison industry has really become a safety valve for governments. If the industry had not come along in the mid-80s and said, 鈥榃e can do this more cheaply than you can, we can do this better than you can,鈥� maybe we would have had different discussions out of necessity than we had at the time.
[Music]
Sam: It鈥檚 not just the government that stands to benefit from the private prison industry. In struggling communities, residents often view the construction of a prison or detention facility as a step toward economic revival. Remember: During their trip to Evanston, Wyoming, Jess and Henry learned pretty quickly that the county commissioner鈥檚 main reason for supporting the project was the promise of jobs. And there were residents who felt the same.
Holly Stone: Yeah, I鈥檓 all for it. Now I don鈥檛 know if anybody else is going to be all for it, but I know I am.
Sam: That鈥檚 Holly Stone. She runs a store on Main Street called A Witches鈥� Vape Shop.
Holly: We have nothing. This is it, these little teeny things, and we鈥檙e all suffering, we鈥檝e all been slow. If we don鈥檛 do something here soon, I鈥檒l move. 鈥楥ause there鈥檚 just nothing for me here, you know what I mean? We鈥檙e getting smaller and smaller and smaller and unless you鈥檙e going to work in Salt Lake or Park City there鈥檚 just nothing here.
Val Cook: We need long term employment. I鈥檓 not going to say we need a detention center. We need long term employment.
Sam: And that鈥檚 Val Cook, who owns a local media company.
Val: It would be great to have a high-tech company come in and locate here. But in the meantime, there鈥檚 no tech companies that are coming to visit us and there is a company that wants to build a detention center. So, gotta take what you can get.
Sam: We should say, not everyone in Evanston was entirely for or against the detention center. For instance, Jonathan Lange. He鈥檚 a Lutheran pastor who鈥檚 lived and preached in Evanston for over two decades. His main concern was how the issue had divided his community, and how to bring people together again.
Jonathan Lange: We want conditions to be better for the immigrants that we鈥檙e dealing with. So recognizing that there is going to be no perfect, but can there be a better? That鈥檚 the touchpoint.
Sam: Others had more personal reasons for being uncertain. Maria Escalante runs a that she鈥檚 owned for six years in downtown Evanston. It鈥檚 called Ana鈥檚 on Main Street. It鈥檚 named after her mother.
Maria Escalante: As a business owner I鈥檓 split between them.
Jess: Why do you say that?
Maria: I鈥檓 not against it, I鈥檓 not for it. I see the benefits for it. But not towards the businesses. You know, like the detainees, the persons that are going to be in there, they get to be closer to their families. Otherwise they get sent to Colorado.
Sam: Maria knows all about that. She and her family moved to the U.S. from Mexico when she was nine years old. A few years ago, after her attorney apparently misfiled some of her papers, ICE took her into custody. Maria spent 45 days at a facility in Colorado Springs 鈥� a seven-and-a-half hour drive from Evanston. So Maria is sympathetic. She says it would be nice if people didn鈥檛 have to drive hundreds of miles to visit their detained family members.
Maria: So I鈥檓 torn, you know what I mean? Would it be good for the town? Probably not. Would it bring more jobs? I don鈥檛 believe so.
Jess: Why not?
Maria: There are jobs, nobody likes to work 鈥榚m. Businesses like restaurants struggle all the time trying to find workers. So I don鈥檛 know. I just have so much. And I hear both sides, and it鈥檚 like. [sigh] There鈥檚 a lot of misunderstanding about it. Definitely.
[Music]
Sam: When we first reported this story, people in Evanston 鈥� like most of us 鈥� had no idea that a pandemic and massive anti-racism protests were about to sweep the country. So in June, we checked in with a few residents to see how they were doing.
[Jess and Henry call Brenda]
Jess: Brenda?
Brenda: Hello?
Jess: Hi!
Henry: Hi!
[Chuckles]
Jess: We know it鈥檚 very early over there so thank you for taking the time.
Brenda: Yeah, no problem, no problem. Thanks for having me.
Sam: This is Brenda Richins again, who runs that t-shirt shop on Evanston鈥檚 Main Street.
Brenda: So I pretty much didn鈥檛 have any business from the middle of March until the beginning of May. And then things started to pick up a little bit. Not to normal speed, but back up. But the hardest hit people in Evanston are probably our little independent hairdressers, and those kinds of businesses. Our bars and restaurants. But I think our community has supported those businesses as much as possible.
Sam: From a health perspective, the pandemic as badly as it did other places. But the economic fallout was a different story. Here鈥檚 Mark Anderson, the local county commissioner, on the phone.
Mark: You know, it鈥檚 good that we haven鈥檛 seen that medical impact, but at the same time the financial impact was quite devastating to a lot of businesses. We took a pretty big hit with the oil and gas and coal industries on the downward trend. You know, when that has kind of happened last several years, we鈥檝e depended on our good agriculture, with cattle markets and things, and with this COVID that鈥檚 taken a significant hit as well, as you know.
Sam: And that takes us to the other big development out of Evanston from the past few months. In April, CoreCivic announced that it would no longer be submitting a proposal to build a detention center in the county. When we reached out to the company, they directed us to their press statement, which says, 鈥�... there were ultimately a number of factors that made it difficult for us to consider proceeding.鈥� Mark says he was disappointed.
Mark: You know, the CoreCivic operation wasn鈥檛 going to be the saving grace for our community, but it鈥檚 just a little piece of the puzzle to getting back to financial stability.
Sam: He hasn鈥檛 given up all hope on a deal, or even some other business coming in to help revive the county鈥檚 economy. But for now, Mark is hoping that things will start turning around.
For other residents, the end of the three-year saga over the detention center, coupled with the pandemic, was a chance for reflection. Here鈥檚 Jonathan Lange, the Lutheran pastor.
Jonathan: One of the things that the possibility of a detention center brought to the fore is the intangible parts of community. Is it going to be pleasant? Is it going to be safe? And so I think that鈥檚 important for every community to think about. If we want to be a thriving community it鈥檚 not just about bringing in money.
I don鈥檛 have any answers. I just have questions. But I think that whatever the I.C.E. does as it goes forward, I pray that they are looking particularly at the people they have to detain and how best to take care of them.
Sam: And as for Brenda Richins:
Brenda: You can probably tell how I feel about this community. That鈥檚 a big source of conflict inside of me, though. Because I do wish that that kindness, or that compassion, or that humanity, or whatever it is that makes people in our community want my business to be successful and want to reach out and help their neighbor 鈥� I wish that was extended to everyone, and maybe not just directed at people that look or act just like the rest of us, or any of that stuff.
I鈥檓 on the margins of how people think in Evanston and our community. But I love all the people. Like I interact with all the people. All the people are my customers. I just wish that, you know, they could take whatever that goodness in them that鈥檚 so supportive and that is so caring and just stretch it out a little bit to cover everybody.
[Music]
Sam: Of course, the current moment is much bigger than one privately run detention center in one small Wyoming town. The coronavirus in particular has put a spotlight on health and safety issues that have long existed within our prison and jail systems. So, to end the episode, we turn one last time to Lauren-Brooke Eisen, to get a sense of how private prison companies fit into these bigger conversations about public health and mass incarceration.
Sam: Historically, private prisons filled this kind of safety valve for the government. Do they still have that ability, given how hard the pandemic has affected our economy? And do you think this might change the relationship the private prison industry has with the government?
Lauren-Brooke: The private prisons are probably going to make an argument that they can alleviate overcrowding, that they can play a role in social distancing. But I think the larger issue that we all need to focus on is ending mass incarceration. And for those who want to reduce our reliance on the private prison industry, the number one step we can take to achieve that goal is to significantly shrink the number of people who we house in our prisons and our jails.
But you know, we and a lot of other advocates are hopeful that policymakers and the public will truly reimagine, rethink, how we approach punishment, incarceration, and rehabilitation in our country once this public health crisis has ended.
Sam: Thanks for listening! We hope you鈥檒l join us for our next episode. We鈥檒l be digging into a big question: what鈥檚 the purpose of prison in today鈥檚 society? If you鈥檇 like to stay in the loop, sign up for our newsletter at csmonitor.com/perceptiongaps. We鈥檒l include notes, videos, additional articles, and behind the scenes takes from the series. Again, you can sign up for it at csmonitor.com/perceptiongaps.
This episode was hosted by me, Samantha Laine Perfas. It was produced, reported, and written by me, Jessica Mendoza, and Henry Gass, with additional edits by Clay Collins, Noelle Swan, Mark Sappenfield, Dave Scott, Lindsey McGinnis, and Rebecca Asoulin. Sound design by Morgan Anderson and Noel Flatt, with additional audio elements from News Channel 5, CCTV English and CBS News.
This podcast was produced by 海角大神, copyright 2020.
[End]
