The Hidden Costs of Alternative Supervision

I didn't notice his ankle monitor at first; I only noticed how he was trying to help someone who did not speak English. This young man translated a stranger's name from Spanish to English and conveyed to the court officer that the stranger would need a translator. Then the young man spoke his own name, and I found his information in my stack of forms. The night before I had written out fifty or so forms describing the defendants for court. His name, his birth year, his arrest date were all right in front of me—and he was younger than I was. Born in 2004, this man had been arrested for assault and placed under electronic monitoring. I wrote a note on his form and waited for court to begin. 

It was an hour or so before his name was called, and I noticed a woman—one I could have mistook for a teenager—perk up at his name. She identified herself as his mother and joined him at his side. His case proceeded as normal, with probation and the DA volunteering information on the case. It was made clear that he had been entirely compliant with the demands of the court and probation, but this did little to assuage Judge Volkman. His response of "well that's what we would expect" relegated this young man's achievements to mere  expectations. Mere cases before we had seen a white woman praised for her completion of drug treatment "with a few hiccups." But a Latinx man is seen as compliant with expectations. At the end of his hearing, the public defender requested the termination of his electronic monitoring (EM), given that it would expire in the coming weeks before he would appear in court again. The choice became whether or not Volkman would terminate the EM treatment two weeks early or let it expire. His choice to let it expire angered both the son and mother as they exhibited obvious groans and expressions of disgust. After they had left the courtroom in a not-so-silent ire, the cases continued as normal. 

This drew my attention, not only because of the explicitly racial evidence to suggest unequal decisions, but because of the electronic monitoring (EM) as a device of surveillance and punishment. I had seen another case revolving around EM that same day. In the state of New York, EM became more prominent in law enforcement back in 2020. With the rise of the coronavirus and overcrowding in jails, EM was seen as a way to surveil those who had been convicted. It also became a popular alternative to bail as New York instituted bail reform. While the concept of introducing EM was not unique to 2020, with the demonstrated need, courts have used this treatment for over 125,000 people, according to a report by the Brennan Center. The concept of surveillance is appealing to public defenders, DA's, and judges alike as it promotes a compromise between ROR (Release on one's own recognisance, a promise to obey the court)  and bail. It also continues to keep individuals out of jail, which carries its own financial, mental, social, and emotional costs. 

However, EM has limitations that prevent it from being an accessible option for everyone. Firstly, it requires a stable living situation with a landline, as well as electricity. Many cases in Poughkeepsie City Court involve defendants who do not have access to stable housing which would invalidate EM as an option. Secondly, these devices come at a cost. As an article in the New York Times notes, EM often requires installation fees (up to $200), and maintenance fees (ranging from $150 to $1200 per month) , and even daily charges. Those who are sentenced generally must finance the systems themselves, which can result in devastating debt. Finally, the dizzying number of sometimes onerous rules means that infractions are common, which can result in being sentenced to jail after all.