For years New Bedford, Mass., residents questioned why police seemed unable to make inroads on the city's escalating drug woes. They complained that dealers once arrested would show up back on the streets selling again within weeks. My editors asked me to take a look at how drug cases fared in the court system and to determine if the courts were part of the problem.
The resulting series "Busted Justice: Drugs, the Law and Bristol County" did just that. We found that despite tough state drug laws designed to minimize disparities, the courts were churning out an unpredictable, crazy-quilt pattern of sentences. In some cases, defendants who appeared to be low-level dealers or drug couriers were sentenced to as much time, sometimes more, than people with long records. Some defendants with previous drug convictions avoided jail completely, while others charged with their first offense ended up behind bars for years.
Recidivism high
And as a glut of cases bogged down the court system, delaying trials in some cases for as much as two years, recidivism among defendants was high. Many defendants were charged with new drug crimes while awaiting trial for previous arrests. But many of these people facing multiple cases were able to lump them together and serve one sentence for all charges. Most of the most serious cases such as drug trafficking where prison terms are mandatory upon conviction - were either dismissed or reduced, as prosecutors used the threat of the mandatory sentences to extract guilty pleas on lesser charges for much less jail time.
Doing this as a CAR project was a big deal for the Standard Times, since no one on the staff knew anything about data analysis. I knew a little Excel but that was it. We had limited computer capacity and an extremely limited budget.
I started my data collection with a computer printout of all the people arrested in 1999 on drug-related charges (cops told me they could not provide this on disk and I would not have known how to handle it anyway if they had). A newsclerk typed that list into Excel, and I then took it on my laptop computer up to district court where I looked through paper files for matches with my arrests.
We found that despite tough state drug laws designed to minimize disparities, the courts were churning out an unpredictable, crazy-quilt pattern of sentences.
The court's computerized files included minimal information, such as names and dispositions. But I wanted to know more about the process, such as whether the case was resolved through a trial and whether charges had been reduced or dismissed as a result of plea bargains. So I spent three weeks going through more than 2,500 files (all the court's cases for one year) looking for matches. For each case, I noted: the arresting officer, the date of arrest, the defendant's name, address and birthdate, the applicant's place of employment and birth, the judge, the prosecutor, the original charge and whether that charge was reduced as a result of a plea bargain, and the type and date of disposition.
Complex database
The big problems began when I tried to analyze my database, which ended up being about 2,200 lines with 30 fields. All I knew was Excel and it quickly became apparent that my questions were too complex for that program. I called the folks at IRE who told me to use Access. But neither I nor anyone in my newsroom knew how to use Access. So I signed up for the IRE Bootcamp and took my database with me to Missouri. At the bootcamp, Tom McGinty showed me how to import my database into Access, but then realized I had lumped too much data into individual cells. For example, I had put complete sentencing information in one column. This included whether a defendant had been sentenced to jail time and how much, as well as length of probation. I had to separate the data in separate fields in order to answer such questions as what percentage of people found guilty had been sentenced to jail and then to figure their average jail time.
Cleaning the data and crunching the numbers took another two months because I was still learning the program as I went, and also because I became sidetracked on another story involving potential police corruption and/or misconduct. My queries included finding the percentage of convictions, percentage of guilty findings where charges were reduced as a result of plea, type of drugs involved, average ages of defendants, number of dealers versus users, and the length of time between arrests and sentencing.
Startling finding
One startling finding was that very few people charged with dealing drugs in a school zone, a charge that carries a minimum of two years in jail under Massachusetts law, were actually sentenced on that charge. Prosecutors told me this was because the school zone law was flawed. Still these same prosecutors adamantly opposed a legislative proposal to loosen that particular mandatory sentence.
The next wrinkle was finding a way to compare my data with other states and/or regions. Although I obtained national drug conviction statistics from the Department of Justice, I was reluctant to compare them with the local data or rely too heavily on those comparisons without knowing whether I was comparing apples with apples.
Statewide sentencing data was based on final dispositions and final charges. It did not consider the impact of plea bargains and to what degree charges were reduced as a result of pleas. The most conclusive information came from records obtained from the prosecutors in a neighboring county that showed the local prosecutor was making more deals than his other colleagues.
Hitting the pavement
Once I had a set of raw numbers and conclusions, with some help from two other reporters, John Doherty and Aaron Nicodamus, I hit the pavement and began reporting. This entailed interviews with defense attorneys, prosecutors, judges, police, policy makers, including members of a state task force convened to analyze state sentencing trends.
All I knew was Excel and it quickly became apparent that my questions were too complex for that program.
In an attempt to give the numbers faces, I used a public records request to obtain criminal background reports on almost 40 defendants and interviewed many of these same defendants or their attorneys - for those in prison that proved time consuming because corrections officials required inmates to write me a letter agreeing to interviews and not all wanted to talk. Massachusetts charges a $25 fee, set by state law, for an individual's criminal record. I found the information provided by the state corrections system did not always correspond to information in the local prosecutor's files, but that's another story. I sat through dozens of court trials and arraignments. Some of my best information came from chance interviews in the courtroom hallway. Once word got around about my project, many court regulars made a point of pulling me aside and giving me their two cents. This resulted in some good tips about cases that illustrated my findings. It also confirmed for me that the results of my data analysis were on target.
Internet sources included the Bureau of Justice Statistics at http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/. This site had good reports on drug arrests and convictions. The White House Office of National Drug Control Policy at http://www.whitehousedrugpolicy.gov/ This site had good links to other drug-related sites.
Lessons learned
Since court computer records in Massachusetts are limited, when I began my investigation I was forced to make my own database. Being a complete novice with computer-assisted reporting, I know now I went about this the wrong way. Instead of thinking up front about how I might want to analyze my data, and hence how to organize it, I just jumped in with collecting information and inputting it into Excel. This meant that I had to go back into my database after the fact and spend days cleaning it up. This included simplifying columns by doing things like parsing out addresses and charges.
Laptop problem
Also, I started using the newspaper's old Dell laptop. This broke down part way through the data collection and since the newspaper did not have another one, I was forced to use my own Macintosh Powerbook. This meant running Access through Virtual Windows, which added a layer of complications to my data analysis. Were I to do something like this again, I would think through equipment questions up front.
Polly Saltonstall, formerly of the Standard Times, can be reached by e-mail at PSalty@aol.com