Darrell Dennis is the face du jour of a far bigger problem than parole policy.
Dennis, who was released from jail only 32 hours before Forrest Abrams was killed, is facing murder charges in the robbery and shooting death of the 18-year-old. A repeat violent offender, Dennis had been arrested 14 times since 2008 and had eight absconder warrants outstanding, and was long past due for a parole-revocation hearing.
Gov. Mike Beebe is correct in wanting to investigate to determine whether Dennis’ case represents an isolated instance or a systemic problem within the parole system.
Undoubtedly all those who touched Dennis’ case at the Department of Community Correction or the Pulaski County sheriff’s office are overwrought at the tragic turn of events. Most of the thousands of parolees processed each year aren’t violent, aren’t dangerous and don’t go out and murder anybody.
Where this case should focus attention most isn’t on the technicalities of the parole system, however, but on our criminal-justice system’s failure to recognize a fundamental truth about crime, punishment and incarceration. Namely, violent criminals are different. They present irreparable risk to society, and everything about the system-prison, parole and recidivism policies-should represent that difference.
It requires little investigation to determine that violent crime in Arkansas is a systemic problem. Compared to other states, and to our own historical rates, violent criminals are having a heyday here.
Arkansas is the only state that placed four metropolitan areas among the top 20 in the CQ Press Most Dangerous list in 2012. The methodology of that list is comprehensive, taking FBI data on reported crimes in six major crime categories, measuring the state rate against the national rate, then compiling a total score of the differences.
The second most dangerous metro area was Pine Bluff; fourth was the Memphis area (in Arkansas, Tennessee and Mississippi); seventh was Little Rock; and 16th was Texarkana (straddling Arkansas and Texas). Hot Springs trailed slightly at 25th.
It might be argued that Arkansas fares badly because other states don’t report as accurately, but if that were true, how does one explain our own rate increases in recent years?
In the first decade of the 21st Century, Arkansas experienced population growth of 8.4 percent. Yet in that same 2001-2010 period, the number of aggravated assaults increased 22.4 percent, the number of burglaries jumped 34.9 percent, and the number of forcible rapes leaped by 36.6 percent.
Even in the high-crime 1990s, we never had as many rapes or assaults as we had in 2011 (the last year of data available).
Two states placed three metro areas in the top 20 Most Dangerous list: Michigan and California. Both are larger states with much greater populations than Arkansas. But in terms of crime rates (incidents per 100,000), which neutralize size disparities, Arkansas far exceeds both states in aggravated assaults and burglaries-which can often escalate to murders and robberies.
The line between aggravated assault and homicide, for example, is often defined merely by luck or medical treatment. The same blow to the head or gunshot to the torso might kill one victim and only wound another. And what begins as a burglary can quickly become a robbery (or worse) if the perpetrator is surprised by an unsuspecting witness.
Explaining why the burglary rate in Arkansas is almost double that of California, and 62 percent higher than Michigan’s is difficult. Likewise with assault rates, which are 45 percent higher than California’s and 21 percent higher than Michigan’s.
Regardless of reasons, rudimentary logic suggests that as the 32nd most populous state, our violent crime rates should rank us in the low 30s if we do only an “average” job of policing and punishing criminals.
The fact is our crime rate in every index category is higher than our population rank (including a top five appearance for rape). Unless we believe that Arkansans are inherently more violent than residents in other states, our criminal-justice system is performing below average.
Failure can be a product of process, but also of flawed premise. If the process has trouble distinguishing a violent criminal capable of murder from a nonviolent offender, mistakes may prove deadly, as is alleged in the Abrams murder.
Abetter philosophy is to categorize criminals as either violent or nonviolent from the very start.
For violent offenders, the presumption needs to reflect reality: Most are recidivists, and dangerous. That means a convicted, paroled robber or kidnapper like Dennis should be presumed to be another violent crime waiting to happen. Known violent offenders warrant a zero-tolerance parole policy. Any violation at all, no matter how minor, should mean prison-and pronto.
Parolees who diligently comply are likely reformed. Those who won’t are public menaces, at which point the primary and emergent criminal-justice goal should be separation from the population.
The truth is, investigation of a dangerous parolee who fails to report ought to be as urgent as that of an at-large suspect in a violent crime today. Both pose an imminent threat to society.
Tweaking the paperwork being pushed between desks of Community Correction and county sheriff staff is a Band-Aid. Our system’s fundamental recognition of and approach to violent crime needs a major transplant.
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Dana Kelley is a freelance writer from Jonesboro.
Editorial, Pages 18 on 06/21/2013