"We asked the
legislature for money for two of them, and before we had completed
the first two, we got money for 10, one in each of the state's
judicial districts," Fallin said. The ten centers (five of which
had opened by the fall of 1989) will make an additional 1,500 beds
available, which, in the course of a year, could serve as many as
5,000 offenders. The annual cost per offender is about $12,500,
slightly less than the cost of a year in prison.
SHOCK
INCARCERATION. An outgrowth of the "scared straight" school of
behavior modification, shock incarceration—officially called
"special alternative incarceration"—is the most dramatic of
all the Georgia alternatives and the most questionable. The program
is aimed at men between 17 and 25 years of age who have been
convicted of a felony, but who have never been sentenced to an
adult prison. Its aim is to shock them with a brief exposure to the
"harsh realities of prison life" by putting them for 90 days
through a regimen very much like basic military training. The
program's boot camps are situated on the grounds of two state
prisons, but the offenders assigned to them have no direct contact
with prison inmates.
Billie Erwin,
the department's evaluator, has watched the program since its
inception in 1983. Although not enough time has passed for a
full-fledged evaluation, what she sees causes her to worry that the
effects of shock incarceration, although dramatic at the outset,
are too short-lived to cause long-term avoidance of criminal
activity. Because the program is highly photogenic, it has drawn
more media coverage than all the other alternatives to
incarceration combined and, as a result, more inquiries from
would-be emulators. Commissioner David Evans said he is concerned
that too many may see the program out of context.
In 1989 there
were 250 available beds—enough for 800 shock incarceration
probationers each year—in the two prisons that house the
program. David Jordan said it is impossible to reckon how many more
beds the department would need to satisfy judicial demand for this
alternative to full-fledged prison. The program "sure is popular
with them," he said. At $3,285 per participant, the program costs
roughly one-quarter as much as keeping a person in prison for a
year.
TELLING
THE STORY
David Jordan,
41, took a few detours before he found his niche in the field of
corrections. After working as a salesman, a trucker, a manager, and
an assistant information officer for the Georgia House of
Representatives, he was doing well as a radio journalist in Atlanta
when he heard about a position open in the Department of
Corrections' public information office. As a reporter, he had
always felt an affinity with the people in law enforcement and
corrections whom he sometimes covered. He took the job.