Pubdate: Wed, 3 Jun 2009
Source: North Shore News (CN BC)
Copyright: 2009 North Shore News
Contact:  http://www.nsnews.com/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/311
Author: Jerry Paradis
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/find?159 (Drug Courts)
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/find?199 (Mandatory Minimum Sentencing)
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/rehab.htm (Treatment)

DRUG TREATMENT COURT BETTER THAN NOTHING

Every Tuesday and Thursday a group of like-minded people get together
and talk about common problems, the stress of modern life and their
efforts to cope.

They chat among themselves, applaud a success, shake their heads
sympathetically at a failure, sometimes cry and frequently laugh.
Nothing unusual about that -- except that they are in Courtroom 303 of
the Vancouver Criminal Courts at Main and Cordova.

This is the Drug Treatment Court of Vancouver (DTCV). It has been in
operation since late 2001. It consists of a judge, "in-house" Crown
and defence counsel, dedicated court staff and sheriffs, and a
substantial treatment team working out of a single location in the
West End. The bare numbers suggest that it has not been a smashing
success: 638 have participated and 117 have "graduated."

Many opposed to drug prohibition are also opposed to drug treatment
courts. They are said to validate the criminal approach to problematic
substance use. Detractors say DTCs assist in perpetuating a policy
that has been shown to be both harmful and doomed to failure; and they
divert funding from other, voluntary treatment programs.

There is no doubt that many of the American models deserve the flack
they get. The academic literature tends to focus on their coercive
nature: many are not at all "voluntary" in the sense that Vancouver's
is, and the penalty for failure is frequently harsh. There is also an
absence of reliable studies comparing them to conventional treatment
and, in particular, their cost-effectiveness. As one person involved
in addiction treatment says, "That judge is one expensive probation
officer."

On that issue, while it is true that the treasury is limited, there is
no reason to expect that, if there were no drug court, its annual
funding would be devoted to other treatment programs. The federal
government's 2007 drug "strategy," for example, made much of its
alleged focus on treatment. The amount of money allocated to that
translated to a mere 10 additional detox beds for all of British
Columbia (73 per cent of the money went to enforcement).

As for the other concerns, there are two immutable facts to consider.
The first is that there will be, for the immediate future at least,
drug crimes. Much as prohibition is the worst way to deal with the
health implications of drug dependence, and indeed is the basis of
almost all other social ills arising from it, that is what we have and
it will not be changed overnight. The corollary is that many dependent
on heroin or crack will continue to face punishment for selling small
amounts to get what they need. That they are given the option to deal
with what they may decide is a problem they have been incapable of
dealing with voluntarily can't be casually discounted on doctrinaire
grounds.

The DTCV has a simple design. An offender is charged with a
"drug-related" offence -- let's say, trafficking in crack cocaine or
burglary to obtain the money to buy drugs. He knows that one way or
another, whether he pleads guilty or is found guilty at trial, he will
be sentenced. A street seller trafficking in small amounts of drugs to
maintain his addiction is likely to receive a sentence of between
three and six months in jail in the regular court system. If he
behaves and earns his remission points, he will be out in half that
time. By contrast, if he is accepted into the DTCV program, he is
looking at a long stretch of "coercive treatment" overseen by what is
usually called a "therapeutic court." That means he will make weekly
appearances in court, will abide by a treatment plan (devised and
executed by an integrated group of addiction, mental-health, housing
and other specialists) and will submit to random urinalysis. The
average time spent in the program by those who have graduated has been
468 days. It's a demanding, long grind. But it's his to choose.

If he does, he appears in Courtroom 303 and is presented with a waiver
form that describes in plain English what will be required of him.
After consulting with his lawyer, he signs the waiver and enters a
plea of guilty to whatever charge he is facing, a precondition to
participation. He then enters a nominal 30-day "assessment" period.
The actual period is quite flexible, designed to get a clear idea of
whether he really wants the program and whether the program wants him.
As he is being assessed, there is room for relapse. Generally, even if
it's followed by one step back, one step forward is seen as a positive
sign. There's a lot of leeway. If he is removed or withdraws at this
stage, his guilty plea is struck from the record and he starts all
over again in the regular court system.

Post-assessment, the offender progresses (or not), through the
program, and the DTCV defence lawyer represents his interests --
principally at lunchtime meetings attended by the judge, the lawyers,
a person responsible for the treatment side of the program and one
representing the corrections (probation) side. They all open a file
and read a brief progress report. His tests have, or have not, been
clean; he has, or has not, been complying with the demands of the
program; there are special housing or mental health needs. The
discussion about the next step is open, brisk and not very different
from what would go on in the courtroom. Then on to the next file, and
the 20 or so after that.

Courtroom 303 at 1:30 p.m. The place is lively, occasionally too much
so, and the gathering has to be asked to tone it down. A case is
called. A jittery man steps up and the judge asks how he's doing. He
says, "Pretty good, your honour. How are you?"

She says, "Fine, thanks. . . . You're looking pretty
good."

He smiles, "Well, yeah, I feel good."

She reads from the file: "Clean tests and in compliance--" the
gathering applauds. "You're doing well. Taking it day by day seems to
be working."

He looks down and says softly, "Well, it's more like one hour at a
time."

She says, "Well, keep up the good work. See you next
Tuesday."

He smiles, "Thanks, your honour," and he strides out.

Success in the program takes many forms besides graduating. A number
who participate and drop out or are removed have reconnected with
family; or they have had periods of clarity that have allowed them to
take a realistic look at their lives; or they have received housing or
mental health assistance, improving their chances of making it if they
decide to try again. Most who graduate do so "with honours" -- they
have completed the 265 hours of treatment required and they have not
failed a urine test in a very long time. But there are a few who
graduate without honours: they completed the program, but still test
positive from time to time. If they "fail" after the assessment period
they are sentenced in the DTCV, in the same way and to the same extent
they would be in regular court for the offence that started the whole
thing in the first place. The reward for the graduate is that he is
given the lightest sentence available: a one-day probation order.

The DTCV, since its creation, has comfortably dealt with around 100
participants at any given time. If the Harper government succeeds in
establishing mandatory minimum sentences for drug crimes, the number
of offenders opting for that court -- seeking to avoid one-to
three-year minimums -- will skyrocket. It would be unreasonable,
particularly in these economically difficult times, to expect that
funding will be readily made available to deal with the increase. The
DCTV will collapse under its own weight.

There's no doubt that 117 out of 638 is a modest achievement. But it
is certainly better than zero out of zero. 
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MAP posted-by: Richard Lake