As anyone who cares about mass incarceration knows, bad policies often spread faster than the facts, especially when their rhetoric targets deep-seated fears. There may be no better example of such upside-down policymaking than conviction-based public registries, starting — but not ending — with sex offense registries.
Registry proponents argue that a searchable public database that provides personal information about people with certain convictions empowers individuals and families to make decisions that could reduce their risk of victimization. For instance, they might choose to avoid living next door to someone on a registry, or to hire someone else to walk their dog. In a nation where fear of crime has little to do with actual risk, this is politically popular.1 But there is virtually no evidence that conviction-based registries make communities safer; in fact, they cause harm, contribute to recidivism, and waste taxpayer dollars that could be spent on far more effective crime prevention strategies.
Despite these well-established facts, all 50 states and D.C. still have public registries for sex-based convictions, 2 and over the past 20 or so years, many have doubled down on this model, creating registries for various other convictions, from white collar crime to DWIs. The expansion of registries beyond sex-based crimes is more common than you might think: we found other active registries in nearly half of all states and D.C., as well as legislation in many states proposing new ones. Most of these registries are publicly accessible, while others are maintained for law enforcement purposes only. And while they may not be as widespread nor as technically burdensome for people on them as registries for sex-based convictions, advocates should oppose this ill-conceived trend before public registries spread further — and policymakers should scrap those already in place.
At least 22 states and D.C. maintain registries for people with criminal convictions beyond those required by federal law
Building off of previous, but seldom-discussed work, we searched for active conviction-based registries in each state, beyond those required for sex-based offenses. Our search, while thorough, was not necessarily exhaustive, but it confirmed that these registries are relatively common, and that new types of registries tend to spread from state to state. 3
Importantly, we distinguish between publicly accessible registries and law enforcement-only registries. Some research shows that conviction-based databases used only for law enforcement purposes may yield limited benefits in terms of preventing crime. But registration usually comes with associated fees, restrictions, and requirements, all of which raise the odds of further arrests, whether for “failure to register” or other technical violations (that is, acts that would not be crimes for people who aren’t required to register). The community notification aspect of public registries causes further harm by exposing individuals to stigmatization, discrimination, and vigilantism. In these ways, public registries are not worth the trade-off; they may increase the likelihood of recidivism enough to cancel out any deterrent effect registration may have, while also putting at risk the safety of people who have to register. Despite these differences, we include both types of registries in our analysis, since even restricted-use registries are just one legislative session away from being made public.
We find that:
Twelve states require people with certain “violent” convictions4 to register, making this the second-most common type of conviction-based registry. Five of these states have added these violent convictions to their existing registries for sex-based convictions, creating much broader databases.
Six states have created separate registries for certain drug-related convictions, and one other has added people with these convictions to its combined-offense registry. While most of these databases appear intended to track and thwart methamphetamine production, several 5 require registration for a wider range of conviction types.
Registries for people convicted of arson, domestic violence, child abuse and other non-sexual crimes involving children are all found in multiple states, as are registries for people prohibited from owning weapons.67
Some states uniquely single out other kinds of convictions: Utah’s “white collar crime” registry targets people convicted of financial crimes; California maintains a “gang registry;”8 Ohio tracks people with multiple DWI convictions; Florida created a now-defunct registry specifically for “soliciting for prostitution;” Tennessee and Delaware have the only statewide “animal abuse” registries; 9 and Virginia even has a “dangerous dog” registry that publicly displays owner information. And although we concentrated on statewide registries, it’s worth noting that many cities and counties have created their own, such as gun or weapon-related conviction registries in Baltimore, Chicago, D.C., and New York City, and animal abuse registries in many New York counties.
Additional convictions and criminal histories tracked by state registries or databases
Every state is required to maintain a public registry of people convicted of certain sex-based offenses, and we found that nearly half of all states track people with other kinds of criminal histories on a registry or database, despite the lack of evidence that registries prevent victimization, and despite the well-documented harms they cause. Note that this list may not be comprehensive. See the Appendix Table for more details about the state registries we identified, including which are public and which are only accessible by law enforcement or other authorized users, the duration of registration requirements, applicable fees, and more.
State
Non-sexual offense types and other histories tracked by registries
Alabama
Certain drug-related offenses
California
Arson, suspected gang affiliation, gun-related (prohibition from possessing firearms)
Connecticut
Gun-related
Delaware
Animal abuse
D.C.
Gun-related
Florida
Any felony, certain violent felonies, soliciting prostitution (repealed)
Hawaii
Non-sexual crimes involving children
Illinois
Certain violent felonies, non-sexual crimes against children, meth-related, arson
Indiana
Certain violent felonies
Kansas
Certain violent felonies, certain drug-related offenses
Louisiana
Certain violent felonies, arson, child abuse or neglect
Michigan
Meth-related, child abuse or neglect
Minnesota
Certain violent felonies, meth-related, domestic violence, gang affiliation, firearms, non-sexual crimes against children
Montana
Certain violent felonies, meth-related, arson, domestic violence
Nevada
Any felony, certain violent felonies
North Dakota
Non-sexual crimes against children
Ohio
Certain violent felonies, arson, driving while intoxicated
Oklahoma
Certain violent felonies, meth-related
Tennessee
Certain drug-related offenses, domestic violence, animal abuse
Texas
Certain violent felonies, domestic violence
Utah
Child abuse or neglect, “white collar” crime
Virginia
Certain violent felonies, non-sexual crimes against children, animal abuse, “dangerous dogs”
West Virginia
Child or vulnerable adult abuse
Life on a list: constant verification, fees, and a scarlet letter
Knowing that people on registries for sex-based convictions face a litany of dehumanizing restrictions, we also investigated the additional requirements and restrictions jurisdictions impose upon people on other registries, and reviewed existing research on the effects of public registry and notification laws.
The other forms of public registries we found have a lot in common with the mandatory sex offense registries that exist in every state. They typically require people to register themselves in person with local law enforcement, 10 and then re-register or verify their information annually, or as frequently as four times per year. Often, states require individuals to register with local law enforcement agencies in each city or county where they live, work, or attend school, resulting in multiple visits to law enforcement offices whenever their circumstances change. Some states also include visible markers on state identification (i.e., licenses) that indicate an individual’s registered status.
Registry requirements aren’t necessarily limited to people who reside in the state; often, out-of-state students, employees, and even visitors must also register. Nor are they limited to people convicted within the state. In many cases, if the law would apply to a resident of the state with a comparable conviction, it will also apply to new residents and all but the shortest-term visitors. This means that people moving or traveling to another state must figure out which, if any, registration requirements apply to them when they get there. For example, anyone traveling to Florida (a state that sees about 140 million visitors each year) who has been convicted of a crime that would be a felony in Florida must register within two days of arrival with the sheriff of the county they are visiting. 11 Nevada (with 38 million visitors per year to Las Vegas alone) has a similar rule for anyone with two or more felony convictions. For people with convictions related to methamphetamine (including possession), Oklahoma requires registration for anyone who plans to be in the state for more than 10 days.
The information collected (much of which is also published) is often extensive, including: names; addresses; phone numbers; Social Security number; state identification number; date of birth; a physical description (including tattoos); offense(s) and sentencing details; vehicle information and description; information about school enrollment, treatment facilities, volunteer activities, and employment (including supervisor, past employers, professional licenses, and/or travel routes to work); all email addresses and internet usernames; photos; fingerprints; and a DNA sample. This information must be updated promptly when someone moves or changes employment, or — in Kansas and Virginia — within 30 minutes of creating a new internet username.
Registry laws also stipulate that certain convictions come with a fixed registration period (often 10 years) while other convictions or criminal histories require lifetime registration. 12 These terms may be extended if someone misses their re-registration date or otherwise violates the registry requirements. In Illinois, for example, failing to re-register on time for the “Murderer & Violent Offender Against Youth Registry” restarts the 10-year registration clock. And in at least five states, registration doesn’t just require showing up: individuals must also pay initial and recurring registration fees, costing anywhere from $20 to $150 for initial registration and $10 to $85 for renewals. 13
Some conviction-based registries involve arguably irrational requirements or restrictions. Minnesota’s “Predatory Offender” registry requires registration for anyone charged with certain crimes, even if they were ultimately convicted of an offense that doesn’t require registration. While that rule was probably intended to prevent people from avoiding registration through plea bargains, it casts a broad net that undoubtedly punishes people for crimes they didn’t commit. Meanwhile, in Oklahoma, those registered for convictions related to methamphetamine are prohibited from having any amount of pseudoephedrine (a common ingredient in over-the-counter cold medicines that can also be used to make methamphetamine), even if they have a prescription.
It’s also worth noting that even “standard” registry requirements, such as periodic re-registration, become much more demanding for people without a permanent address. In Indiana and Minnesota, people in these situations who have certain violent convictions must check in “at least” weekly; in Kansas, they must register within three days of arrival in any locality and re-register monthly (or more often, at the discretion of the agency). They must also provide a detailed list of everywhere they have slept or frequented and everywhere they intend to. While these additional requirements may seem sensible for a system intended to monitor people, they instead compound the problems of people experiencing homelessness. 14 Because many people without stable housing also lack reliable transportation, these check-ins are not only more frequent but also more difficult to get to, greatly increasing the odds of “noncompliance.”
Of course, “noncompliance” has steep consequences. For almost all registries we found, violations such as failing to register or to update personal information in time triggered new charges, often felonies. Kansas’ law is especially punishing: the combined registry for certain convictions related to sex, violence, or drugs requires in-person appearances every three months (more often for “transients”) and within three days of any change in residence, employment, or school attendance. People must also register for at least 15 years, and if someone messes up their registration schedule even once, it’s a new felony charge. The severity of the charge increases with subsequent violations, and every 30 days, a new noncompliance offense is added. Meanwhile, a single missed payment to the sheriff’s office counts as a misdemeanor punishable by up to a year in jail; two or more missed payments amount to a felony. For anyone who is on probation or parole, these violations are likely to result in re-incarceration; for others, they may incur hefty fines and/or new sentences of incarceration. 15
Even if these registries do not come with the same level of restrictions and stigma as those for sex-based convictions, 16 they often do carry similar legal consequences for noncompliance. Given the high stakes involved, it’s reasonable to ask: what evidence of their efficacy exists to justify conviction-based registries? In short: basically none.
The limited research on criminal registries suggests they do more harm than good
Researchers haven’t studied the efficacy of these newer registries much at all, especially compared to registries for sex-based convictions. The little scholarship that does exist generally concludes that public registries aren’t an evidence-based strategy for enhancing public safety or reducing recidivism. Scholars do seem to agree, however, that registries likely do more harm than good.
Our review of prior research uncovered a handful of sources describing the history, social roles, and harms of public registries for convictions beyond sex-based offenses, and just one quantitative (statistical) study about whether one program reduces homicides. A book by a legal scholar looks at criminal registries (as a broad category) through a political-historical lens; a comprehensive law review article discusses the expansion of criminal registry types; and three others focus on specific types of registries (“gun offender” and “animalabuse”). We found surprisingly little journalistic coverage of the issue: The Atlantic andNew Republic wrote about Utah’s unique financial crimes registry over a decade ago, and Tampa Bay 28 News investigated the state’s half-baked (and now defunct) Soliciting for Prostitution Public Database. A particularly damning report by the Inspector General for the City of Chicago about how the city implemented its gun registry provided an in-depth view of why and how these programs so often fall short of their goals.
Among the sources we identified, the quantitative research was limited to just one study about California’s database of people prohibited from owning guns. 17 This study concluded that “the increased monitoring and enforcement from the [Armed and Prohibited Persons System] program substantially decreased homicidesin California” by nearly 127 gun-related murders per year. Although that sounds promising, the California program is not typical of conviction-based registries: it is for law enforcement use only (not public), and it actively conducts its own enforcement through state Bureau of Firearms officers, who confiscate guns from people identified by program analysts. It is also not a conviction-based registry per se, since people are “prohibited” for a number of reasons (still, the most common reason is a felony conviction). We include this study here because these differences help illuminate why other registries don’t work. 18 For example, the contrast with the Chicago Inspector General’s evaluation of that city’s gun registry is stark: it describes the registry as incomplete, inaccurate, and infrequently enforced or even used by police. Further, it reported that a police officer saw the long wait to register outside of a police station in a “gang-controlled” neighborhood as “a drive-by waiting to happen.”
Given the scant research on newer types of registries, all of the existing work we found referenced the comparatively robust research on registries for people convicted of sex-based offenses. 19 It’s therefore worth revisiting what researchers have found about the efficacy of sex offense registration and notification laws. Experts from the Sex Offense Litigation and Policy Resource Center at Mitchell Hamline School of Law have summarized that research thoroughly. In short, their summary explains that these laws:
do not reduce recidivism;
do not deter others, who are not on a registry, from sexually offending;
create barriers to finding employment, securing housing, and maintaining strong social ties, and cause other harms to people on registries and their families.
While the other conviction-based registries don’t yet operate at the same scale, they share the same flawed logic and can cause similar harms to the people on them and their loved ones. For these reasons, policymakers and the public should be wary of expanding public registration and notification schemes; where they already exist, lawmakers should dismantle them.
Based on false assumptions, public registries fail to prevent crime
Conviction-based registries remain popular because proponents believe that they target the people who are particularly likely to commit similar crimes in the future, that their existence deters criminalized behavior, and that they are effective tools for monitoring by law enforcement. All of these assumptions are wrong.
Lawmakers often claim that people convicted of violent or sex-based offenses are likely to commit similar crimes, 20 but years of research show that this is false. 21 People released from prison after serving sentences for homicide or rape/sexual assault are actually the least likely to be rearrested within five years for any offense. 22 This is true despitethe typically high level of supervision by law enforcement they are subjected to after release, which makes detection of any violation extremely likely. Further, the rates of re-arrest for similar offenses are very low for people who have served sentences for homicide and rape/sexual assault, at less than 2% and 4%, respectively.23 On this point, it’s also important to note that re-arrest rates are the most inclusive measure of “recidivism,” as they count arrests of people whose charges were later dropped or who were found not guilty. People released after serving time for a violent offense are also the least likely to be reconvicted or to receive another prison sentence.
Setting aside the matter of recidivism risk, conviction-based registries are often both under- and over-inclusive, giving community members a false sense of confidence that they know which people around them present the most risk. Because registration requirements are based on the specific crime of conviction, people who plead guilty to lesser charges may avoid registration, 24 while others end up on the list because their offense technically qualifies. One law review article offers this example: a “gun offender” registry intended to prevent people who have misused weapons from possessing them again may ignore offenses involving other types of weapons, such as explosive substances. On the other side of the coin, incidents such as a 13-year old injuring an older sibling can lead to mandatory registration as an adult on Illinois’ Murderer and Violent Offender Against Youth registry. But that context won’t appear in the database, and neighbors, employers, and landlords will draw their own conclusions.
A related problem is that registries only capture individuals who have been arrested and convicted, not everyone who engages in the criminalized behavior. This is particularly problematic in the context of sex-based offenses, the overwhelming majority of which are committed by people who have never been arrested for such offenses before and therefore would not appear on a registry. Moreover, while public databases are supposed to deter harmful behavior, they may actually deter victims from reporting it — particularly when the harm is caused by a friend, partner, or relative. For all of these reasons, public registries only succeed in giving community members the feeling that they know whom to watch out for. (Even in this respect, studies have found that notification systems often add to community anxiety and can even affectpropertyvalues, with little, if any, corresponding benefit in terms of community safety.)
In some cases, registry laws have actually created new offenses for people who fail to use them. When Rockland County, New York created an “animal abuse” registry, “the law also [made] it illegal for a person, shelter, or humane society, to knowingly or unknowingly sell or offer to sell an animal to an offender on the registry” (emphasis added). Albany County created a similar law making it a crime for anyone to give, sell, or adopt an animal to someone on its registry, punishable by a $5,000 fine. In this way, these counties shifted responsibility for the prevention of cruelty to animals to community members under the assumption that they would be consulting the registry. It’s not hard to imagine how this logic might be extended to other registries, criminalizing the failure to access publicly available information.
Finally, while law enforcement may find registries useful, the tendency of these laws to expand and apply to a growing list of convictions over time makes it harder to maintain them and ensure accuracy. Requiring people to show up in person to provide their own information all but guarantees missing and inaccurate data, 25 and verification and compliance enforcement compete with other local law enforcement priorities. Thus, information on criminal registries is notoriously low-quality, limiting their effectiveness for monitoring or locating people suspected of new offenses. 26
The few studies that exist about conviction-based registries — and the much deeper well of research on the sex offense registries they are modeled after — conclude that registries generally don’t make communities safer and that they create new harms. Yet the idea of expanding registries to track an ever-growing list of criminalized people is a perennial one, because lawmakers are often willing to overlook empirical evidence when it undermines a popular policy. The practice shows little sign of slowing down, as our survey of registries for various convictions or criminal histories demonstrates. There is a desperate need for more research about the expanding universe of registries, but the available evidence should, at the very least, urge the public and lawmakers to reconsider their adoption.
In a 2010 study, for example, researchers conducted a phone survey of hundreds of people in Michigan and found that more than half (53%) of respondents supported public registries in addition to the existing registry for people convicted of sex-based crimes. The vast majority (84%) of those supporters favored registries for crimes against people (i.e., those in the broad category often called “violent” crimes). ↩
Current federal law requires D.C., states, territories, and federally-recognized tribes to maintain registration and notification systems for people convicted of certain sex-based offenses. ↩
This briefing focuses on registries for convictions other than sex-based offenses — which exist in every state under federal law — precisely because these registries are a matter of state law, and policy decisions and advocacy strategies about state law are different from those around federal law. The scope of this briefing should not be misconstrued as an indication that registries for sex-based offenses merit any less scrutiny or policy change. ↩
The distinction between “violent” and other crime types is a dubious and subjective one; what constitutes a “violent crime” varies from state to state and from policy to policy, and acts that are considered “violent crimes” do not always involve physical harm. The Justice Policy Institute, while no longer active, explained many of these inconsistencies, and why they matter, in its comprehensive and relevant report, Defining Violence. ↩
Alabama, Kansas, and Tennessee require registration for drug convictions beyond those related to methamphetamine. ↩
Convictions requiring registration in these categories are sometimes simply added to existing criminal registries, often with an accompanying name change, even if the different kinds of convictions are not visible or obvious to registry users. For example, Utah recently merged its registry for convictions of child abuse into its registry for sex-based convictions, which is now called the “Utah Sex/Kidnap/Child Abuse Offender Registry.” In other states, these registries are maintained separately, such as Louisiana’s “Child Abuse and Neglect Registry” and Illinois’s “Arsonist Database.” ↩
Importantly, criminal registries for people convicted of non-sexual crimes involving children are distinct from the registries or databases that every state maintains of people accused of and/or who have “confirmed” instances of child abuse or neglect (rather than criminal convictions, although convictions may be included, too). Often called “Central Registries,” these databases are not public, but are accessible by many employers who provide care to children or other vulnerable populations, such as the elderly. (Texas’ Health and Human Services Commission also maintains an “Employee Misconduct Registry” which is wider in scope but serves similar purposes.) For an excellent discussion of the development of, and problems with, these registries, see Marginalizing Mothers: Child Maltreatment Registries, Statutory Schemes, and Reduced Opportunities for Employment (2021). ↩
Other state registries do track whether a conviction is gang-related, but California’s is the only one we know of that tracks suspected gang affiliation in its own registry. ↩
Not all registries have individual registration requirements; some are populated by courts and law enforcement agencies. See the Appendix Table for details. ↩
There are some exceptions: if the individual has remained conviction-free for more than five years since the end of their sentence, received a full pardon, or has had their civil rights restored, they do not have to register. This registration does not appear to require re-registration or ongoing verification, only that individuals register with the sheriff “within 48 hours after entering any county” (and presumably, re-entering after leaving). ↩
For example, the registry for “violent” convictions in Oklahoma has a 10-year registration period and requires annual verification; however, if multiple convictions result in someone being categorized as a “habitual violent crime offender,” they must register for life and verify their address every 90 days. ↩
We found the following public registry fees: Illinois’ “violent” conviction registry ($20 initial registration, $10 annually); Ohio’s “violent” conviction registry ($50 initial registration, $25 annually); Kansas’ combined registry ($30 per registration per county where one lives, works, or attends school); Utah’s combined registry ($100 annually, plus up to $25 to any other registering agency besides the Dept. of Public Safety); and Virginia’s “dangerous dog” registry ($150 initial registration, $85 annually). ↩
The “impossible situation” of the Chicago 400 — composed of Chicagoans listed on a public registry who are experiencing homelessness and therefore must register weekly — is particularly illustrative. As the Chicago 400 Alliance explains, registry requirements and conviction-based residency restrictions interact in ways that perpetuate their experience of homelessness: “Anyone who lacks a legal residence must register weekly. Since so much of Chicago housing is blocked out as illegal [based on our convictions], it is very hard to find a legal address. Registering weekly means spending hours in a ‘bull pen’ at the police station.” Further, while many Chicago 400 members maintain one or more jobs, they “often miss work or lose employment opportunities in order to re-register weekly,” or else risk going back to jail or prison for an administrative violation. ↩
Kansas is not unique in this respect: failure to register for Utah’s “White Collar Crime” registry is a class A misdemeanor with a mandatory 30 days or more of incarceration; for California’s arson registry, it’s a misdemeanor with a mandatory 90 days to one year in custody; for Connecticut’s “Deadly Weapon Offender” registry, it’s a class D felony, punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a $5,000 fine. ↩
Most individuals who serve out sentences for sex-based crimes are required to register in — and surrender extensive information and autonomy to — the state(s) where they live and work. Requirements beyond registration and paying fees include:proximity and residency restrictions (relative to schools, childcare centers, public parks, and similar spaces), maintaining a shaming “mark” on one’s driver’s license, extreme logistical burdens for travelers, and reporting information such as a vehicle description, all bodily scars, marks, and tattoos, and all email addresses, Internet identities and websites used. ↩
For example, the contrast with the Chicago Inspector General’s evaluation of that city’s gun registry is stark: it describes the registry as incomplete, inaccurate, and infrequently enforced or even used by police. Further, it reported that a police officer saw the long wait to register outside of a police station in a “gang-controlled” neighborhood as “a drive-by waiting to happen.” ↩
At least one study on sex offense registries anticipated this application of the research, pointing out that “understanding whether sex offender registries work is potentially important because they serve as a precedent for other types of registries.” This has, of course, proven to be the case. ↩
For example, the Nebraska law establishing its “Sex Offender Registry” says that “sex offenders present a high risk to commit repeat offenses…” ↩
In the linked article, Hanson et al. note that, “Individuals [convicted of sex-based crimes] are targeted because policy-makers believe they are likely to do it again. This is a testable assumption, and, as it turns out, not entirely true.” Their analysis shows that individual recidivism risk varies widely, can be low enough to be indistinguishable from that of people convicted of non-sex offenses, and drops predictably over time. ↩
One reason for the lower rates of recidivism among people convicted of violent offenses: age is one of the main predictors of violence. The risk for violence peaks in adolescence or early adulthood and then declines with age, yet people convicted of “violent” crimes often remain in prison long after their risk has declined. ↩
By comparison, rates of re-arrest for similar offenses are higher for those released after serving sentences for robbery (11%), assault (32%), burglary (21%), larceny/motor vehicle theft (43%), fraud/forgery (23%), drug offenses (43%), and public order offenses (55%). (See Table 11 in Recidivism of Prisoners Released in 34 States in 2012: A 5-Year Follow-up Period (2012-2017)). ↩
Florida’s now-defunct Soliciting for Prostitution Public Database, for example, failed to capture most people prosecuted for soliciting sex. When only a single person had been entered into the database in the first year, a State Attorney explained to reporters that about half of all cases involve “first-time offenders” who go into diversion, and about a quarter “end up pleading to a section that’s not captured by the database.” ↩
We are excited to welcome our new Creator-in-Residence, Marci Marie Simmons!
This is the second installment of the Prison Policy Initiative’s Creator-in-Residence program. With more Americans turning to social video content for their news and information, the Prison Policy Initiative created this residency to empower and support creators producing videos that expose the harms of the carceral system. For the next four months, Marci will produce videos that break down complex problems in the U.S. criminal legal system, with the Prison Policy Initiative providing data and research support.
Marci is a nationally recognized advocate, filmmaker, creator, and digital strategist who uses storytelling to reshape public understanding of incarceration, reentry, and justice. She is the Social and Digital Media Coordinator of the Formerly Incarcerated, Convicted People and Families Movement and serves as the Director of Communications of the Lioness Justice Impacted Women’s Alliance.
A survivor of ten years in a Texas prison, Marci transforms lived experience into powerful narratives that educate, mobilize, and inspire action among her nearly 350,000 followers across social media. Her work spans advocacy, film, education, and narrative strategy, all rooted in the belief that the people closest to the problem are closest to the solution.
Videos will be published as collaborative posts on both hers and the Prison Policy Initiative social media accounts. Be sure to follow Marci on Instagram and TikTok. And also follow Prison Policy Initiative on Instagram and TikTok.
Because it is so fragmented, the federal system can be particularly hard to understand, which only makes it harder to change effectively through policy. We explain the agencies involved, the loophole that undermines ‘sanctuary’ policies, and overlooked problems with federal pretrial detention.
The federal system of incarceration and detention makes up a relatively small, but rapidly expanding, share of confinement in the United States. Between 1984 and 2026, the number of people confined by the federal government has exploded by 631%. And while that number is below its 2011 peak, federal incarceration and detention have grown by 12% in just the last two years.1
The Trump administration’s recent, belligerent use of policing and prosecutions have already left their mark on the federal system, especially with regard to mass detention and deportation. But even so, it’s not easy to understand the scope of this corner of the system and how its practices and priorities have shifted over time. Opaque federal police and prison agencies make it hard to see these changes, or to know which agency is responsible. And it’s harder still to know what federal policy reforms or state and local resistance would be most effective to rein in runaway expansion plans.
In this briefing, we try to overcome these issues by piecing together data from various sources to provide a clearer picture of the patchwork federal system, from ICE detention and electronic monitoring to federal prisons and pretrial supervision. We show trends in detention and incarceration,2 and examine the role that the criminalization of immigration (including the exploitation of a loophole in sanctuary policies) has played in shaping the system. Finally, we round out our analysis by spotlighting some of the glaring problems with federal pretrial detention and highlighting the fiscal costs of the system.
With a better grasp of the agencies involved and the mechanisms at play, people can work with their state and local governments to limit the reach of the federal system.
The size and scope of federal systems of confinement and supervision
Today, 268,000 people are detained or incarcerated on federal authority, and 321,000 people face the threat of being locked up while under federal community supervision. Taken together, more than half a million people are under some kind of federal correctional control.3 But they are spread across four major agencies or authorities, depending on the charges and the status of their cases. For example, after a federal arrest, people are locked up in one of three primary ways:
Pretrial detention while a criminal case proceeds in federal court. They may be held without bail or, more often, unable to afford release on bail.
A sentence to incarceration. When someone takes a guilty plea or is convicted at (an exceedingly rare) trial, a judge can sentence them to incarceration.
ICE detention: They are confined while a civil case proceeds in immigration court or while awaiting deportation.
Additionally, many who aren’t locked up are instead under community supervision by either the federal criminal court system or ICE. In this section, we briefly explain which agencies are involved at various stages of the legal process and how they share resources to detain, incarcerate, and monitor so many people.
Pretrial detention. While being prosecuted in a federal criminal court, people are booked into custody of the U.S. Marshals Service (USMS or “the Marshals”). The Marshals provide space for pretrial detention to the federal courts, primarily via contracts with a network of local jails.4 While the Marshals’ role in criminalizing immigration is less visible, their detention network presents a loophole that allows the use of local resources for immigration enforcement despite “sanctuary” policies. It’s important to understand that the Marshals often serve the same purposes as ICE and share the same resources. Almost half of all people who face federal criminal charges in the course of the year are there for some kind of “criminal” violation of immigration law, such as returning to the United States after an earlier deportation.5 Meanwhile, ICE relies heavily on the Marshals’ network of local jails to detain people for civil immigration matters; only a small share of these individuals have criminal convictions.
Incarceration. After sentencing in a federal criminal court, people with short terms of incarceration are sometimes left in U.S. Marshals custody instead of being transferred to a federal prison. Many people don’t know that 1 in 5 people serving a federal sentence of incarceration on any given day are in USMS custody. The Federal Bureau of Prisons handles everyone else with sentences to incarceration, using its detention centers, penitentiaries, correctional institutions, and prison camps.
Immigration detention. In federal civil immigration cases, people are detained in ICE’s detention network. This network consists of detention centers operated by private prison companies, but also include some federal detention centers, state prisons, Bureau of Prisons facilities, and ICE offices. Importantly, ICE often has access to the USMS detention network of local jails as well, as intergovernmental service agreements commonly include both agencies.6 ICE can also contract directly with local jails.
Community supervision: pretrial, probation, post-release, and for ICE. Beyond federal detention and incarceration, 321,000 people face community supervision and surveillance by the federal government, both of which come with the inherent threat of confinement for any alleged violation. Community supervision for people accused or sentenced for federal crimes is overseen by the federal courts’ Probation and Pretrial Services. ICE surveils hundreds of thousands of people on an “alternatives to detention” electronic monitoring program.7
This table breaks down how many people are involved in various parts of the system now:8
Almost 600,000 people are caught up in the federal system of confinement and supervision, including nearly 250,000 in immigration detention or on electronic monitoring for ICE.9
Population
Percent of total
Percent of total confined or supervised
Total incarcerated or detained
265,433
45%
100%
Pretrial or unsentenced status
24,492
4%
9%
Sentenced
176,433
30%
66%
Held by U.S. Marshals
31,643
5%
12%
Held by Bureau of Prisons
144,790
25%
55%
Immigration detention: Held by ICE
64,508
11%
24%
Total under supervision
323,439
55%
100%
Criminal legal system community supervision
140,258
24%
44%
Pretrial supervision
22,314
4%
7%
Probation
11,141
2%
3%
Supervised release
106,803
18%
33%
ICE Alternatives to Detention (electronic monitoring)
183,181
31%
57%
Total in federal confinement or community supervision
588,872
100%
Immigrant criminalization and prosecution are driving federal confinement trends
The longer-run trends of federal detention and incarceration are similar to the overall expansion of mass incarceration through the 1980s and 1990s.10 Since then, the federal system has continued to add huge numbers of people in immigration detention, especially during the Trump administrations. That increase in immigration detention, combined with the failure of the federal government to keep pace with broader declines in criminal punishment at the state and local levels over the past six years, has led to an overall spike in federal confinement.
The number of people confined by federal agencies is more than six times greater in 2026 than it was in 1984, although it remains below its 2011 peak. Note that this chart does not include confinement by state or local criminal legal systems.
The role of immigration detention and criminalization
In addition to the well-documented expansion of ICE detention, federal prosecutors, the U.S. Marshals, and the Bureau of Prisons together have played an overlooked role in the expansion of confinement for immigration-related reasons, detaining and incarcerating people on criminal charges that had commonly been treated as civil matters in the past.11
Federal criminal prosecution allows immigration arrests and detention even in places with sanctuary policies.12 That’s because of a longstanding loophole: ICE and other federal agencies can refer people for federal prosecution on immigration-related “crimes” and thus hold them in contracted local jails in sanctuary cities, counties, and states. In doing so, the Trump administration is transforming what are normally civil immigration matters into more serious federal crimes. This expands the overall federal incarceration system. As we have explained, every county with a U.S. Marshals contract is effectively signed up for this part of the mass detention and deportation agenda, even if they have sanctuary policies on their books.
We estimate the federal Bureau of Prisons and U.S. Marshals detained or incarcerated roughly 25,000 people on an average day in fiscal year 2025 for immigration-related criminal charges, up 45% from around 17,300 people in 2024.13 Federal prosecutors have been filing more cases against people for immigration-related offenses, sending people into the federal criminal legal system. Almost 50,000 people were charged and booked into U.S. Marshals custody for an immigration-related offense in fiscal year 2025 alone. The Trump administration plans to take this even further.
Expanded prosecutions and more detention
The Trump Administration projects that it will book 250,000 people into jail in fiscal year 2027.14 There were fewer than 100,000 federal bookings in 2024.
The most dramatic part of this projection is the expected booking of almost 110,000 people on immigration-related criminal charges, followed by sharp increases in the catch-all “other charges” group. Historically speaking, bookings in the “other” category primarily have been for supervision violations, followed by property offenses.15
Notably, the Trump administration also plans a rapid increase in the number of people booked on federal drug charges, indicating a return to the failed policies of the “war on drugs.” This will only compound problems within the federal pretrial system: people facing federal drug charges tend to be detained pretrial for longer than others (7.5 months before sentencing), in part because they often face protracted plea negotiations to avoid harsh mandatory-minimum charges.16 Aggressively prosecuting drug-related crime will exacerbate the harmful impacts of pretrial detention in the federal system.
Spotlight on overlooked problems with federal detention
The rapid growth of federal detention also comes at a steep financial cost. ICE spends about $222 a day to detain each person in custody — much more than it costs to incarcerate someone in a federal prison or within the U.S. Marshals detention network, to supervise them, or to release them.17 Yet reportsabound of abuse and cruelty, inedible food, and medical neglect in ICE detention and in federal prisons. These conditions can also lead to costly lawsuits, raising the question of why the Trump administration is choosing to spend public dollars this way.
Given that, in the government’s own words, “defendants released in the federal system have a high degree of success” in terms of court appearance and avoiding further charges, detention at its current scale is unnecessary and a clear example of government waste. A far better use of resources would be to release people on recognizance — at no financial cost — while they await their day in court. At a minimum, both immigration and criminal courts could opt for much less costly community supervision, at less than $2 a day for ICE “alternatives to detention” and $13 a day for pretrial supervision.18 To be clear, these forms of supervision are also restrictive and controlling, often requiring electronic monitoring, but when used in place of detention, they can keep people from some of its worst harms.
A version of this image focused solely on federal pretrial detention and supervision costs, and excluding ICE data, can be found here.
Another major problem with the federal system is the lack of available, up-to-date information. The Bureau of Justice Statistics publishes annual data about all state and federal prison populations, but these reports make no mention of the 32,000 people held by the U.S. Marshals who are serving federal sentences. Neither do those of the Federal Sentencing Commission.19 Meanwhile, ICE has regularly failed to publish congressionally-mandated semi-monthly reports summarizing statistics on detention over the past year, obscuring the public’s view of its rapid expansion.
These data gaps can make it hard to hold system actors accountable. For instance, the government publishes only an occasional, limited view of the charges facing people who are detained pretrial and how long it takes before they are released.20 Academic research shows that many judges grant prosecutors’ requests to detain defendants even when there is no legal basis and, legally, these defendants should be granted pretrial release on the “least restrictive means available.”21 But while the federal courts used to report the kind of information that would allow researchers to track this problem, even this limited information has been blocked in recent years.
What federal, state, and local policymakers can do
The United States still incarcerates and detains its residents far more than peer nations on a per capita basis, and changes at the federal level remain absolutely necessary — though not sufficient on their own — to end mass incarceration. Federal policymakers have direct control over criminal and immigration law, agency budgets, and appointment and confirmation of agency directors, federal prosecutors, and judges. Their influence can be seen in the outsized growth of the federal criminal legal and immigration detention system, especially in recent years, when immigration detention has spiked.
At the top of any policy agenda must be addressing the injustice of ICE and civil immigration enforcement with their bloated budgets and lack of transparency and accountability. But the criminalization of immigration by the federal criminal courts, as well as the ongoing “war on drugs,” also demand action. Currently, federal judges and prosecutors use the vast detention network set up by the U.S. Marshals Service to lock people up in hundreds of different local jails and private prisons for the purposes of punishing what have not always been criminal offenses. Advocates and elected officials have fought back by ending law enforcement and jail collaborations with ICE. But policymakers need to go further and also block collaboration with other federal detention agencies like the U.S. Marshals. While federal policy action is essential to changing this system and reversing its buildup, states and local governments can take steps to limit it now.
Footnotes
The peak in 2011 was an annual average daily population of 293,500, with 33,330 of those people in ICE detention. ↩
There are substantive differences between detention and incarceration, even if people with different statuses are held in the exact same federal prison buildings. People who have been detained are either involved in the civil immigration system (i.e., in ICE detention) or being prosecuted but not yet sentenced for a federal criminal charge. People who are incarcerated have been convicted of a crime and sentenced by a judge. ↩
Millions more are threatened with deportation: not currently detained nor in an “alternative to detention” program, but still facing surveillance and roving federal agents and local deputies in their communities and workplaces. As of May 2026, 3.2 million people have open cases in the immigration court backlog, some of whom will get their cases closed or have a deportation or removal order issued. ↩
In about half of states, the U.S. Marshals Service use only county jails to detain people, often rural jails far from federal courthouses. In federal court districts serving large cities like Los Angeles, Chicago, Miami, or New York City, there are facilities operated by the Federal Bureau of Prisons (BOP) that provide pretrial detention space. Even though these people are in BOP facilities, the U.S. Marshals remain responsible for those people. In other areas, especially on the U.S.-Mexico border, the U.S. Marshals use private prisons, often the very same facilities that ICE uses for immigration detention. ↩
Immigration is by and large a civil, administrative — not criminal — legal matter. Non-criminal violations of immigration laws include things like being in the U.S. without proper authorization (“unlawful presence”), overstaying or violating the terms of a visa, and knowingly employing undocumented workers. Federal crimes related to immigration laws are not necessarily all that different in character from those violations, but include things like improper entry, illegal reentry after deportation, and engaging in marriage or other fraud to circumvent immigration laws. ↩
Intergovernmental service agreements (IGSAs) are the contracts under which local jails detain people for the federal government, specifying per diem reimbursement rates and other details. The U.S. Marshals have played a central role in acquiring immigration detention space for ICE in local jails since its inception. In September 2001, the Department of Justice established an Office of the Federal Detention Trustee that sought to manage and develop contracted local jail networks for ICE and the U.S. Marshals. This capacity was brought in-house at the U.S. Marshals in 2012, and ICE still regularly uses riders on pre-existing U.S. Marshals jail detention contracts. ↩
All of ICE’s “alternatives to detention” are operated by BI Incorporated, owned by the major private prison company, the GEO Group. ↩
Piecing together all of this information is difficult due to gaps in standard data reports on the federal incarceration system and a lack of transparency from federal agencies, especially the U.S. Marshals and ICE. Congress mandates ICE to report summary statistics on detention, but during fiscal year 2026, ICE has regularly failed to publish these updates. Since 2022, the U.S. Marshals have similar required reports to Congress on people in the detention system, but these reports are not released publicly by Congress or the agency. See notes in a recent budget request about these reports, and the underlying language in the appropriations records. For more discussion of data gaps in the federal system, see the section “Spotlight on overlooked problems with federal detention” below. ↩
We have data on incarceration and detention since 1984 (unfortunately we don’t have the same historical data on community supervision). We use a variety of federal criminal justice statistics data files, annual reports, and budget information to compile these historical data.
For federal prisons, we use the National Prisoner Statistics 1978-2023 (ICPSR 39657) data file published in April 2026, and count only the people that are sentenced to the Bureau of Prisons with a sentence of one year or more. For 2024-2026, we use more recently published data by the Bureau of Prisons, while adjusting for people held in federal prisons on behalf of the U.S. Marshals or ICE.
We do not separately address the historical trends for military incarceration or territorial jails that are not a part of the U.S. Marshals or Bureau of Prisons. In recent years, those would contribute roughly an additional 8,000 people to the total. ↩
Sanctuary policies usually just limit local law enforcement from collaborating with ICE on civil immigration enforcement, but we know of no places that limit collaboration with federal law enforcement agencies on immigration-related criminal charges. ↩
These annual estimates combine data from the Bureau of Prisons (BOP) and the USMS. According to official statistics, there were 7,309 incarcerated people with sentences to the Bureau of Prisons for immigration-related federal crimes as of late June 2026. This is very similar to the numbers in prior years. Getting data on people held by the USMS with an immigration-related charge as the most serious offense is more difficult: the most recent data via FOIA is from FY2024, and FY2025 requires some estimation.
On average in FY2024, the USMS held 10,030 people with immigration-related charges, 8,553 of whom were sentenced and 1,476 people of whom were unsentenced, per FOIA Request No. 2025-USMS-000858. These kind of data for FY2025 have not been released by USMS, so we use booking data that are public to make an estimate of the average daily population. According to budget documents, during FY2024, 28,007 people were booked into USMS custody on immigration-related offenses and this increased to 49,934 people in FY2025. Due to the rapid increase in bookings for immigration charges (up 78%), we expect that even if people had 10% shorter stays in USMS detention (i.e., due to faster case processing), the average number of people would have increased to 16,094. If the average length of stay was unchanged, the average number of people incarcerated for immigration reasons would have increased to 17,883.
For FY2024, we combine the roughly 7,300 people in BOP facilities on immigration-related sentences with the 10,030 people held on immigration-related criminal charges in FY2024 by the USMS, resulting in an estimated total of 17,300 people. For FY2025, we combine the number of people incarcerated in BOP facilities for immigration convictions (about 7,300) with our estimated average number of people held in USMS custody (17,883), resulting in an estimate of around 25,000 people. ↩
The ICE “Custody Operations Budget” in FY2025 was $3,919,952,000, and the average daily population in ICE detention in FY2025 was 48,404 people. Thus, the average daily cost of ICE detention was $221.87 per person. The most recent average daily cost of incarceration at a federal prison was reported in the Federal Register in December 2025 as $129.21 per person. According to recent federal budget documents, the USMS Federal Prisoner Detention Budget for FY2025 was $2,236,000,000, and the USMS average daily population in FY2025 was 47,912 people (excluding any held for the federal prison system), an average daily cost of $127.86 per person. ↩
ICE reports daily program costs and total caseloads in its detention management reports, which amounted to an average $1.53 per person, per day for all “alternatives to detention.” In June 2025, the U.S. Courts published cost information for FY2024 for pretrial supervision ($4,696 per year, or $12.87 per day, per person) and post-sentence community supervision ($4,742 per year, or $12.99 per day, per person). ↩
The Federal Sentencing Commission explicitly ignores these cases, only collecting data on higher level charges and longer sentences. As a recent report says: “Information on minor and petty offenses are not reported to the Commission as the sentencing guidelines do not apply in those cases.” The Bureau of Justice Statistics’ Federal Justice Statistics program similarly only reports out data on people sentenced to the Bureau of Prisons. ↩
An updated table of state-by-state data shows that medical parole (also known as compassionate release) is used so sparingly that very few people are actually released this way.
In almost every state, there are laws on the books offering a way out of prison for people who are seriously or terminally ill. Medical parole — also known in some states as compassionate release, medical release, or conditional release for medical reasons — is ostensibly an early release mechanism for extremely ill or incapacitated people who pose little or no threat to public safety. In reality, medical parole sets an extremely high bar for applicants, with a lengthy and confusing application and hearing process. As a result, most applicants remain locked up, with many people dying before their cases are resolved.
We compiled publicly available data from all 47 states with medical parole laws, the District of Columbia, and the federal prison system, in an effort to update data collected and published by FAMM (which they updated in 2021 and 2025 where possible). Ultimately, these data show just how few people benefit from this type of early release, despite the level of need and public support for these laws. Because most states are not statutorily required to publish data regarding medical parole, in many cases we were not able to find data more recent than what FAMM collected from state agency reports and records requests. In most states where we were able to update the data, there has been no increase in the use of medical parole over the past few years, and the number of people granted medical parole each year remains extremely low. For example:
Florida reported granting Conditional Medical Release to 45 people in 2019 and 35 people in 2020, but granted release to only 18 people in FY2025.
Massachusetts reported granting Medical Parole to three people in 2019 and 31 people in 2020 (during COVID-19), but only 11 people in FY2024.
New Jersey reported granting Medical Parole to ten people from 2011 to 2020, but only eight people from FY2021 to FY2025.
Connecticut has a separate pathway for compassionate parole: compassionate parole does not require a terminal medical condition, but has a narrower range of eligible offense types. In 2025, there were zero compassionate parole cases.
Older data includes the number of hearings: in 2018, there were 7 Medical Parole hearings, 4 of which resulted in granting Medical Parole (57% grant rate).
Of the 34 people approved for Medical Release, eight were not released during 2024 and one died in custody preior to release. In 2022, there were 78 “qualified applications” set for a hearing and 182 “nonqualified applications” (i.e., did not meet at least one criteria required by statute).
Functional Incapacitation Release; Terminal Medical Release
4
2013-2020
From 2013 to 2020, three people were granted Functional Incapacitation Release (for debilitating medical conditions) and one person was granted Terminal Medical Release (for terminal illness requiring “facing death within 30 days” as determined by a physician).
Publicly available information on Medical Parole requests is only available until 2022; the annual reports for 2023-2025 do not include information on Medical Parole.
The Department of Corrections approved 168 people in 2020 during the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic, but only 67 people in 2019, for Supervised Community Confinement.
A 2026 state Office of Inspector General report found that “as many as half who died [in Nebraska Department of Correctional Services custody] appear to have been eligible for medical parole at the time,” but the report does not include numbers of applications, hearings, grants, or release.
Nevada
Residential Confinement
0
2019-2020
FAMM reported that a news account in 2021 reported that there were zero releases to Residential Confinement for medical reasons in 2019 and 2020.
Between 2011 and 2020, the Parole Board granted Medical Parole (New Jersey’s compassionate release law prior to February 1, 2021) to just 10 people, according to 2021 correspondence between FAMM and the State Parole Board.
In FY 2020, there were 11 individuals who applied for Medical and Geriatric Parole; the Parole Board granted one application, denied nine applications, and “discharged” one because the individual died.
Of the 61 applications, there were only 56 hearings held. Within this legislative report, the Department reports a 71% grant rate based on 39 people approved out of the 55 people who met with the Board of Parole.
Since the most recent Medical Parole law went into effect on November 1, 2021, Medical Paroles have decreased dramatically: there have only been six approval since the law went into effect, compared to to 30 approvals in the 3 years prior to the new law.
In 2020, of the 11 individuals for whom release was requested: five were statutorily ineligible; four did not meet medical criteria; two were “handled outside the process;” and no one was granted Early Parole Release.
Deferment of Sentence Due to Serious or Terminal Illness
83
49
59%
2016-2024
This is often referred to as “compassionate release.” From 2015 to 2025, 54 people have been granted release, while 11 died waiting for a hearing (Rep. Kajewski, 2025).
Parole for Terminally Ill, Geriatric, or Permanently Disabled Inmates
38
17
45%
2010-2025
Of the 38 people referred since the law passed in 2010, seven never had a hearing (one of whom died before a hearing) and 14 were rejected (two of whom died prior to a second hearing).
Medically Recommended Intensive Supervision (MRIS) and Emergency Medical Reprieve
61
2020
The Parole Board did not report the number of referrals for MRIS, 61 of whom were approved. The Parole Board did report that of 68 requests for Emergency Medical Repreive in 2020, one was recommended to the Governor and was denied. In 2019, he Correctional Office on Offenders with Medical or Mental Impairments referred 200 cases to the Parole Board for consideration for MRIS, the Board approved 76 requests. In 2019, the Board of Parole received 132 requests for Emergency Medical Repreive, none of which they recommended to the Governor.
The Parole Board publishes a searchable database of all the hearings held, including those for Compassionate Release.
Vermont
Medical Parole
No public data.
Virginia
Conditional Release Based on Terminal Illness and Executive Medical Clemency
4
2019-2020
In 2019 and 2020, the Governor granted Executive Medical Clemency to four people. There is no data available on the number of people released on Conditional Release.
Office of the Governor, List of Pardons, Commutations, Reprieves and Other Forms of Clemency, 2020 and 2021
Washington
Extraordinary Medical Placement
74
8
11%
CY 2024
Of the 56 denials, 50 did not meet medical criteira, six did not meet “public safety criteria,” three died before consideration or placement, and five withdrew their applications.
Sentence Modification Due to Extraordinary Health Condition or Age and Parole Due to Extraordinary Circumstances (“old law”)
138
19
14%
2020
Parole Due to Extraordinary Circumstances is available only for people sentenced under “old law” for crimes committed before December 31, 1999 (based on infromation published by FAMM). The Department’s Division of Community Corrections did not report how many people applied for Parole Due to Extraordinary Circumstances in 2020, but they did report that there were no approvals.
Medical parole — the early release of people on the grounds of medical condition — goes by many names, including compassionate release, medical release, special needs parole, and more.
Number of hearings or applications
Most states proivde the number of medical parole applications in a given time frame. However, in Alaska and California, we were only able to obtain the number of medical parole hearings held, and, in the Federal system, we relied on the number of motions for Compassionate Release filed in federal courts.
Number granted
This is the number of people granted medical parole in the given time period. It does not necessarily mean all of these people were released, as it is possible that some died before they could actually be released from prison.
Grant rate
The grant rate is calculated as the percentage of people granted medical parole out of the number of medical parole applicants. In Alaska and California, this rate is calculated as the number of people granted medical parole out of the total number of medical parole hearings held. In the Federal system, this rate is calculated as the number of motions granted out of the total Compassionate Release motions filed.
Year
Some states report medical parole data by calendar year, fiscal year, or even longer periods of time. When possible, we presented the most recent and comprehensive data.
Notes
Additional details about the jurisdiction’s medical parole law or criteria, and additional useful data points.
Civil and criminal courts both mandate the detention of people for extended — and often indefinite — periods of time in state hospitals, essentially extending the already-long arm of the criminal legal system.
Hundreds of thousands of people are forced into psychiatric and substance use treatment every year in the United States under the umbrella term “civil commitment.” Proponents try to justify these forced hospitalizations as necessary to “help” people who are unable to help themselves despite little evidence to back their medical efficacy.1 In reality, this contact between the criminal legal and medical systems expands carceral control; as a legal tool for confinement on the basis of mental health conditions or substance use disorders, they effectively criminalize medical conditions. And, in keeping with both systems, forced treatment and hospitalizations are rife with racial disparities, and disproportionately impact people who are unhoused and living in poverty. 2
In this briefing, we catalogue the various forms of forced hospitalization, where they happen in the criminal legal system, and whom they impact. There are two broad types of forced hospitalizations, which we differentiate as non-forensic and forensic. The first type, non-forensic forced hospitalizations, are used for psychiatric and substance use disorders, and are the result of a civil court process unrelated to criminal charges. Even so, this process frequently involves the criminal legal system, as police often bring people to emergency rooms for psychiatric evaluations and can even petition the courts for forced hospitalizations. The second type, forensic forced hospitalizations, refer to the commitment of individuals to psychiatric hospitals because of their criminal legal system involvement. These hospitalizations are typically for (1) competency assessments and restoration services or treatment before trial, (2) the evaluation and treatment of people found “not guilty by reason of insanity” (NGRI) or “guilty but mentally ill” (GBMI), and (3) the commitment of people convicted of sex offenses after they have completed their prison sentences. Forensic forced hospitalizations can take place at any point throughout the criminal legal process. In essence, this fusion of the criminal legal and medical systems disguises the criminalization of mental illness and substance use as a benevolent act.
Civil courts forcibly hospitalize people for mental health and substance use disorders
In every state, civil courts can force individuals with symptoms of a serious mental condition into hospitals against their will if they are determined to be a danger to themselves or others, and/or are unable to provide for their “basic needs.”3 What exactly constitutes a person’s “basic needs” can vary by jurisdiction, but it’s typically understood to be food, clothing, and shelter. As of 2024, more than two-thirds of states have expanded these non-forensic hospitalization laws to target people with substance use disorders.
Psychiatric hospitalizations. The data on how many people are subject to forced psychiatric hospitalizations are sparse and suggest significant state variation.4 Still, even a rough, conservative estimate suggests hundreds of thousands of forced hospitalizations take place each year in the United States.5 People of color (particularly Black and Asian people) are disproportionately targeted and, across all categories of mental health conditions, people diagnosed with psychosis, schizophrenia, or bipolar disorder are among the most likely to be forced into mental health treatment.
Substance use disorder hospitalizations. Data about forced substance use treatment are even scarcer; there are no national estimates of how many people are court-ordered into treatment or how long they are typically confined.6 In Massachusetts — a frequent utilizer of laws to hospitalize people over substance use — more than 6,000 people are court-ordered into treatment each year. In 2018, there were more than 10,700 petitions and more than 7,000 evaluations for forced substance use treatment, and ultimately, nearly 6,000 treatment orders. A Massachusetts state commission found that people subjected to such treatment are frequently unhoused (24%) and unemployed (80%), and have no history of overdose (63%). While we cannot necessarily extrapolate estimates from Massachusetts to other states, we can see how involuntary treatment for substance use impacts unhoused people, people in poverty, and people of color disproportionately, mirroring disparities within the criminal legal system.
In general, non-forensic forced hospitalizations of both kinds follow a similar process: an individual is detained in a hospital or emergency room on an “emergency psychiatric hold” (typically a 72-hour detention) while a civil court determines whether they should be involuntarily hospitalized.7 In every jurisdiction, police can initiate an emergency hold, but beyond that, the rules vary about who can start the process.8 In some states, the court determination can proceed without an emergency hold while the individual remains in the community.9 In all cases, a judge ultimately determines whether an individual will be admitted to involuntary treatment in a state treatment facility.
In almost every state, law enforcement — not medical personnel — are responsible for transporting people to the facility once the court has committed them, even though they haven’t been criminally charged. Generally, people are hospitalized in state medical facilities, but it’s not uncommon for people to be held at other facilities (like private hospitals or emergency rooms) until a bed in a state facility becomes available.10 In Massachusetts, the court can confine people forced into substance use treatment within correctional facilities; in 2019, three in every four men forced into treatment in the state were in a jail or prison without any criminal charges or convictions. Scarce data exist regarding the actual length of time individuals spend in these settings, but state statutes cap the length of confinement (which varies by state from 14 days to one year) and civil courts can indefinitely renew the court orders.11
In most jurisdictions, civil courts also determine when someone can be released from involuntary psychiatric hospitalization, presumably with input from the treatment team. When it comes to substance use hospitalizations, the state health authority can typically discharge people.12 Individuals can also pursue their own discharge from either via civil court or “conditional release” programs that are contingent upon their participation in outpatient programs.13 Notably, “conditional release” from forced hospitalizations imitates probation and parole systems in the criminal legal context: people can be returned to confinement if they do not adequately adhere to a set of rules governing their behavior.
Forced hospitalizations are becoming more common in the criminal legal system
Forensic forced hospitalizations have been on the rise in recent years, and can occur at a number of points along a person’s route through the criminal legal system. Before or during a criminal trial, questions of defendants’ “competency” — that is, their ability to understand the charges and penalties they face, make decisions, and communicate with their legal representation during the trial — can result in forced hospitalizations. The verdict of the trial can also result in a forced hospitalization if the person is acquitted as “not guilty by reason of insanity” (NGRI) or, in some jurisdictions, convicted as “guilty but mentally ill” (GBMI). An acquittal as NGRI results in court-ordered psychiatric treatment, after which the individual is released and not subject to additional criminal penalties. In contrast, someone found GBMI and court-ordered to psychiatric treatment must serve their criminal sentence after completing treatment. It’s worth repeating that competency, NGRI, and GBMI are inherently legal concepts, not medical or clinical concepts or diagnoses, and are not based on best practices regarding mental illness and treatment.
Pretrial forced hospitalizations for competency evaluations and “restoration”
In criminal court, the defense, prosecution, or judge may question the defendant’s competency during pretrial hearings or at any point during the trial. In this scenario, “competency” is strictly limited to the defendant’s ability to participate in the trial and is unrelated to their mental state at the time of the alleged crime. The judge will order a competency assessment from the state mental health authority and if the individual is found “incompetent to stand trial,” the court will order competency “restoration services.”
An estimated 60,000 people are evaluated for competency each year in the United States, and about 20% of evaluations result in hospitalizations to “restore” competency. Based on data from the Treatment Advocacy Center (TAC) and NRI, we estimate that on any given day, nearly 3,000 people are in hospitals for competency evaluations, while over 8,000 people are in hospitals for competency restoration.15 The limited demographic research on competency finds that people of color are 1.4 times as likely to be found incompetent than white defendants,16 and suggests a statistically significant relationship between incompetency findings and defendants identified as female, minority race, or married.
Forced outpatient treatment
The expanding use of “assisted outpatient treatment”
In recent years, some jurisdictions have initiated court-ordered outpatient psychiatric or substance use treatment, typically referred to (somewhat euphemistically) as “assisted outpatient treatment” or “AOT.” While distinct from other forms of civil commitment because AOT does not remove people from their homes or communities and does not require locked facilities, it is important to note that AOT is still an involuntary, mandatory, and coercive court-ordered treatment.
People ordered to AOT are, by definition, found to be of no immediate risk or danger to themselves or others and can continue to reside in the community, yet they are legally required to participate in treatment. Legal scholars argue that these laws dramatically “extend states’ means of social control” and are not sufficiently “justified by traditional understandings of state police power or parens patriae commitment authority.”14
The state mental health authority is responsible for the court-ordered assessment and subsequent competency restoration services or treatment. Such evaluations and restoration services are almost always provided in inpatient hospital settings, despite evidence that outpatient competency restoration programs in the community are effective. In a 2014 survey of officials in 43 states, respondents in nearly 80% of those states reported that courts can (and do) forcibly hospitalize people for competency assessments and, in most states, restoration services are exclusively provided in inpatient hospital settings.17
State statutes often limit how long a person can be hospitalized for an evaluation, typically ranging from 15 to 60 days.18 While most state mental health authorities agree that these evaluations can be completed in one or two interviews, people are often hospitalized for longer than is needed. The trial court then determines competency and can order forced hospitalization for “restoration services.” In every state, this can include medicating people against their will, even if they don’t meet the usual criteria (like danger to self or others due to mental disorders).19
Once the court determines that competency has been “restored,” the criminal trial proceeds.20 However, it is worth noting that in many states, people will remain hospitalized even after competency is “restored” if the hospital staff believe they will “decompensate” upon return to jail. If the court determines that someone is “unrestorable,” the individual must be referred to a civil court for a civil commitment hearing (i.e., non-forensic, non-criminal) or released. Most states limit the amount of time someone in this scenario can be hospitalized21 but the National Association of Mental Health Program Directors states that “several studies” have found that these defendants often remain hospitalized long after they are determined to be unrestorable.
Competency evaluations and restorations generate tension between jails and state hospitals, as there are too few hospital beds and too many people in jail awaiting evaluation or restoration, often for low-level offenses. Reports of lengthy waitlists for evaluations are common, as well as long wait times for competency hearings in court and delays for criminal trials to start after being found competent. Once a person is found incompetent, there are more waitlists for state psychiatric hospital beds. In other words, people who may be in psychological distress or in need of psychiatric treatment are left to languish in jails until a hospital bed becomes available. Even a day or two in pretrial detention can destabilize a person’s life for years to come, jeopardizing employment, health, housing, and more — effects that may be more acute for people with mental health conditions. Despite the high rates of mental health and substance use disorders among incarcerated people, jails rarely have adequate resources to care for them, and are inappropriate settings to house or treat people with mental health disorders.
Forced hospitalizations as sentencing outcomes
“Not guilty by reason of insanity” (NGRI) and “guilty but mentally ill” (GBMI) verdicts are typically the result of legal defense efforts to contextualize a crime, mitigate punishment, and ensure treatment is included in the case outcome. Once charged, the defendant, the defense attorney, or the judge may request a psychiatric evaluation, which can be conducted on an outpatient basis (in the community or the jail) or in a state psychiatric hospital.22In 2017, the New York Times estimated that nearly 90% of NGRI verdicts were the result of plea bargains based on the results of these evaluations. In other situations, the evaluation may be presented as part of the defense’s argument that the defendant is “not guilty by reason of insanity” or requires treatment.
“Not guilty by reason of insanity” (NGRI) is an acquittal based on the criminal court’s determination that the individual was unable to differentiate right from wrong due to their mental condition at the time of the offense. Usually, this is because they were experiencing severe symptoms of mental illness that gravely impaired their capacity to perceive reality or think clearly. The court typically determines a defendant is NGRI based on a psychological evaluation, a psychiatric diagnosis, and a “finding of dangerousness,” meaning the court believes them to be a danger to themselves or others. Unlike competency, a finding of NGRI reflects a decision about the person’s mental state at the time of the crime and is unrelated to their mental state at the time of the criminal trial: NGRI verdicts result in automatic forced hospitalizations, even if the person is no longer in the same mental state as they were at the time of crime.
Alternatively, at least 13 states offer a verdict of “guilty but mentally ill” (GBMI), which is a criminal conviction that can result in forced hospitalization, but still requires a person to additionally serve whatever the typical sentence would be for the offense.23 The establishment of GBMI verdicts in a number of states was largely in reaction to public demands for fewer acquittals via NGRI.24 GBMI verdicts do not result in reduced sentences; people must serve the same sentence as anyone convicted of the same crime, with the difference being that they receive psychiatric treatment “if available” or “if necessary.”25 However, they must serve the full term of the sentence regardless of the outcome of the treatment. Under a GBMI conviction, a person can be incarcerated for the maximum prison term, even if they are no longer experiencing the symptoms of mental illness they had at the time of the offense.
An estimated 7,900 people are in hospitals following “not guilty by reason of insanity” or “guilty but mentally ill” verdicts on any given day.26 While this estimate combines NGRI and GBMI hospitalized populations, older research suggests that people found GBMI are no more likely to receive treatment for mental health disorders than any other person in prison. And while no nationally-representative data exist to show the demographics of people hospitalized due to NGRI or GBMI verdicts, an expansive analysis of NGRI acquittals in Missouri from 1980-2009 found an overrepresentation of Black people, men,27 and people with prior suicidal ideation or attempts.
Despite the reputation of the “insanity defense” as a “get out of jail free card,” NGRI and GBMI verdicts are actually pathways to a different — and often less accountable — system of punishment. An NGRI verdict most often results in automatic hospitalization, and a finding of GBMI may result in forced hospitalization and/or a sentence of incarceration. The average length of time someone is hospitalized after a NGRI verdict ranges from months to years, depending on the jurisdiction, and most often people are confined in the hospital until the court releases them. Some states offer “conditional release” provisions where people hospitalized as NGRI can be released into the community but remain under the jurisdiction of the court. Just like someone on probation or parole supervision in the criminal legal system, someone with this status can be re-hospitalized for a violation of any conditions of release. And most states do not have a specified limit for how long a person found NGRI may be subject to the terms of conditional release.
Forced confinement after serving a criminal sentence
Even after completing the entirety of their prison sentence, people convicted of certain sex-related offenses can be confined indefinitely.
Even after completing the entirety of their prison sentence, people convicted of certain sex-related offenses are sometimes confined indefinitely in “civil commitment facilities” or “shadow prisons.”
At least 20 states and the federal government operate facilities for the purposes of confining over 6,000 people convicted of sex-related crimes after their criminal sentences are complete.28 In these jurisdictions, laws regarding the post-prison commitment of people convicted of sex-related offenses typically stipulate that the person must have: (1) a conviction of a qualifying sex offense, (2) a qualifying mental condition,29 and (3) the mental disorder creates a high probability that the person will commit new sex offenses in the future. In most cases, an individual who meets the criteria will be evaluated for civil commitment prior to their release from prison (at the end of their criminal sentence). This evaluation is conducted by a mental health professional or committee and then referred to the prosecuting authority to file the civil commitment petition, resulting in a civil commitment trial. Notably, prosecutors can file civil commitment petitions without a relevant finding from a medical professional.
People civilly committed for sex offenses are most often confined in special state-run civil commitment facilities, which are not necessarily “hospitals.”30 These facilities may overlap with the state facilities holding people committed for other forensic statuses (like competency evaluation or restoration).31 This type of civil commitment typically has no statutory maximum duration, and eligibility for release is determined by the courts.32
What happens in these “civil commitment facilities” remains largely out of public view, but reports reveal that they engage in a number of archaic, abusive, and ineffective “treatment” practices. Furthermore, evidence suggests that forced treatment does not prevent sexual violence. For more information about the civil commitment of people convicted of sex offenses and what we know about these facilities, see our 2023 briefing on the subject.
Little evidence supports the widespread use of forced hospitalizations in civil or criminal courts
Beyond their ethicalimplications — including the curtailment of civil liberties and patient rights — one of the most alarming aspects of all types of forced hospitalizations is how little information is available about who is confined in these settings, what kind of treatments they are subjected to, and the outcomes of forced treatment.33 What does exist, however, is some troubling evidence that forced hospitalizations are ineffective and even harmful. Research suggests the practice can actually raise the risk of suicide or overdose while failing to prevent relapses or future arrests: for example, in a study focused on Allegheny County, Pennsylvania, researchers found that forced hospitalizations double the risk of being charged with a crime and the risk of death by suicide or overdose in the three months following discharge.34 The implementation of laws allowing the forced hospitalization for substance use disorders has not helped with opioid overdose death rates: a 2024 analysis actually found a significant rise in opioid overdose death rates in states with these laws (compared to those without such laws) in 2020-2021 compared to 2010-2019.35 And in Massachusetts, the risk of opioid overdose death was actually higher for people with a history of forced, court-ordered substance use treatment than those enrolled in other state-run substance use treatment services. Fewer than 1 in 10 people released from forced substance use treatment in Massachusetts actually attended their scheduled follow-up appointments, and more than one-third reported relapsing on the day of release.
Research also suggests that courts do not need to rely on forced hospitalizations. Many people subject to competency restoration or found to be “not guilty by reason of insanity” (NGRI) are able to remain in the community for treatment or safely return to their communities after a short period of treatment. And outpatient competency restoration, which is generally completed much faster than in a forced hospitalization setting, appears successful. In Washington, D.C., three-quarters of people referred to an outpatient program were “restored” in the initial 45 days, and in Virginia, over 80% of people found incompetent to stand trial had their competency “restored” via a jail-based program in an average of 77 days. People hospitalized for competency restoration typically take much longer: the median length of hospital stays for competency restoration was 147 days in a meta-analysis of more than 50 studies from 1975-2013.36 Similarly, studies indicate that longer hospitalizations seem to have little impact on the risk of re-arrest, and that the success of NGRI treatment is primarily contingent on housing and psychosocial support at the time of discharge or conditional release. The majority of people on conditional release from NGRI hospitalizations (76% in Virginia and 66% in Oregon) were able to safely remain in the community and participate in outpatient court-ordered treatment. With little support for forced hospitalizations, the available data seem to indicate that states can safely reduce their reliance on forensic hospitalizations and, more broadly, reconsider their use of forced psychiatric and substance use hospitalizations.
Conclusion
Civil and criminal court-ordered hospitalizations confine hundreds of thousands of people into a murky space between the legal system and the healthcare system. The sparse data landscape is particularly troubling given the growing reliance on, and growing political support for, forced mental health and substance use treatment in the United States. The expansion of carceral control over people who are not charged with criminal offenses and people who have already served their criminal sentences reveals yet another way the legal system seeks to criminalize mental illness and substance use. In addition, the rampant use of forced hospitalizations as a “solution” to crime — one which simultaneously expands the definition of “criminal behavior” to include homelessness, mental illness, and substance use — turns systemic outcomes into individual failings, and disregards the real root of the problem: an unequal society that relies on the carceral system to (poorly) address societal failings.
The best way to address this misdiagnosis of the problem would be to expand access to community-based mental health and substance use treatment. For example, investing in mental health crisis care instead of arrests, and utilizing community-based diversion programs instead of pursuing prosecution for nonviolent misdemeanors, could reduce the number of people hospitalized against their will for competency evaluations and NGRI verdicts. Community-based competency evaluations and restoration programs also reduce the number of people confined in jails, while simultaneously relieving the burden on state hospitals by shrinking the waitlists for inpatient beds. As the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration explains, prosecutors and judges “must exercise discretion to determine if prosecution and continued involvement in the criminal legal system is appropriate for individuals with serious mental illness” throughout the process.
Footnotes
“Civil commitment” typically refers to the civil court process by which people are admitted into a treatment facility or program against their wishes for any number of reasons. However, the phrase “civil commitment” is opaque and euphemistic, and obscures what these practices actually entail. Throughout this briefing, we try to use more transparent language, like “forced hospitalization” or “forced treatment.” We continue to refer to the involuntary commitment of people convicted of sex-related crimes after completing their prison sentences as “civil commitment for sex offenses” to remain consistent with our previous work on the subject. ↩
As of the publication of this briefing, there are at least two federal efforts targeting vulnerable populations for expanded forced hospitalization. In July 2025, the president released an executive order calling for the expansion of “civil commitment” criteria to include unhoused people found unable to “care for themselves” in addition to the existing criteria regarding mental illness and/or substance use. Despite evidence supporting “housing first” programs that prioritize access to safe and stable housing, the executive order attempts to criminalize mental illness and homelessness. Additionally, in March 2026, the federal government announced a joint effort between the Department of Justice and the Department of Veterans Affairs seeking legal guardianship over “vulnerable” veterans in acute-care facilities in an effort to transition them to “long-term” facilities. Guardianship strips an individual of the ability to make their own medical decisions, including decisions regarding hospitalization and treatment for medical conditions, mental health disorders, and substance use treatment, essentially echoing the system of civil commitment and forced hospitalizations, but with longer-lasting and broader powers. ↩
Criteria for forced psychiatric hospitalization vary by state, although most states (27 states in 2016) require at least two of the following criteria be met: danger to oneself or others due to mental illness, inability to provide for basic needs, and treatment is required to prevent further deterioration. In 16 states and the District of Columbia, the only criteria required is danger to oneself or others. ↩
There are very limited state-level data regarding forced psychiatric hospitalization, but in at least three states, we have recent, detailed estimates:
California: There were approximately 81,000 forced psychiatric detentions (i.e., 72-hour detentions) and 42,000 forced psychiatric hospitalizations (i.e., initial 14-day “intensive treatment”) in 2023. Additionally, there were more than 4,000 30-day hospitalizations (Table 30), and 38 180-day hospitalizations — both of which serve as extensions of initial 14-day hospitalizations. See Tables 2, 9, 30, and 44 for these data.
Oregon: There are typically 7,000 petitions for forced psychiatric hospitalizations filed each year. In 2023, 1,016 petitions resulted in 14-day forced hospitalizations and courts extended hospitalizations beyond the 180-day limit for 114 people.
Arizona: As of July 13, 2026, there were 118 people in the state hospital under court orders for involuntary psychiatric treatment. (We could not locate numbers for the entire year, only a one-day snapshot.) Demographic data published by the state reveal an overrepresentation of both Hispanic/Latino people and American Indian/Alaska Native people.
State statutes specify the maximum duration of an initial substance use forced hospitalization, and as of 2021, these maximums vary greatly between states: 1 year (1 state) 180 days (7 states), 120 days (1 state), 90 days (12 states), 30 days (4 states), 21 days (1 state), 14 days (2 states), unspecified (3 states and the District of Columbia). However, courts can renew these orders as they see fit, thereby extending the length of time spent involuntarily hospitalized. ↩
As of January 2016, all 50 states and the District of Columbia have state laws regulating emergency psychiatric holds. A court order is required in most states as of 2014 (except for Georgia, Hawai’i, Iowa, Louisiana, New York, Tennessee, Vermont, and Washington). In some states, the psychiatric emergency hold automatically triggers an evaluation to determine if someone can be released or to initiate involuntary hospitalization proceedings. ↩
In 38 states, any adult can file a petition for psychiatric forced hospitalizations, and in 21 states, any “interested person” can file a petition for substance use forced hospitalizations. Other specified authorized petitioners can include parole officers, mental health practitioners, and any medical or law enforcement personnel, etc. ↩
For example, in Arizona, “civil adult patients” are involuntarily court-ordered to Arizona State Hospital if they have not responded to a minimum of 25 days in a community hospital setting. In Oregon, court-ordered hospitalizations result in placements at specific facilities determined by the state health authority, including the Oregon State Hospital, certified community hospitals, and secure (locked) residential treatment facilities. In Virginia, 5,000 people were admitted to state psychiatric hospitals in FY 2023, with the largest proportion under a “civil temporary detention order.” ↩
In some states, the medical team has significant influence in the discharge process: in South Carolina, for example, the medical providers can determine when someone is ready for discharge, and in North Carolina, the medical team or a judge can order the release. ↩
In Washington, early conditional release from psychiatric treatment requires individuals to “continue any follow-up care requirements for the rest of their civil commitment period.” The National Alliance for Model State Drug Laws (NAMSDL), found that for substance use hospitalizations in some states, the “committing agency may require that the patient continue treatment on an outpatient basis and, if the individual fails to cooperate with outpatient treatment, he or she may be remanded to the custody of the treatment facility.” ↩
The legal concept of parens patriae refers to the ability of a state or court to exert a “paternal and protective role” over citizens within the jurisdiction. ↩
The Treatment Advocacy Center (TAC) estimated that on a single day in 2024, there were 18,948 people in forced forensic psychiatric hospitalizations for competency evaluations, restoration, NGRI, and GBMI. The organization NRI published a report with one-day census data for 37 states for 2014 by legal status (competency evaluations, competency restoration, and combined NGRI/GBMI). That one-day census in 2014 included 2,267 people held for inpatient competency evaluation (15%), 6,809 people hospitalized as incompetent to stand trial (44%), and 6,438 people hospitalized as NGRI or GBMI (41%). Based on the estimate from TAC and ratios from NRI, we estimate that on any given day in 2024, there were about:
2,800 people hospitalized for competency evaluations;
8,300 people hospitalized for competency restoration; and,
In this 2011 meta-analysis of nearly 70 studies, the researchers divided the studies’ samples into binary “white” and “non-white” race categories. ↩
In 2014, an assessment from the National Association of State Mental Health Program Directors found that at least three states reported using facilities operated by jail or prison systems as the “inpatient setting” for restoration services, but in all other states, state psychiatric hospitals are the most common site. Sometimes, if the charges are minor, the prosecution will drop charges as “time served” after the individual completes competency restoration services. In many states, people will remain hospitalized after competency restoration if the hospital staff believe they will “decompensate upon return to jail pretrial.” ↩
Forced medication for forensic patients occurs even in situations where people in non-forensic forced hospitalizations cannot be forcibly medicated (e.g., not dangerous and/or able to make an informed choice) (Sell v. U.S., 2003). ↩
In only a handful of states, the state mental health authority can discharge someone committed as “incompetent to stand trial” if they find the defendant is competent to stand trial or no longer requires inpatient level of care. In other states, the hospital must request release from the court (which is typically supported by the court). ↩
The 2014 National Association of Mental Health Program Directors assessment found that the limits range from as little as 90 days to the full length of the maximum carceral sentence specified by law for the most serious offense. ↩
In addition, Arizona (AZ Rev Stat § 13-502) and Oregon (OR Rev Stat § 161.295-328) have a “guilty except for insanity” verdict option, which allows for psychiatric treatment, restricted to the maximum sentence length for the relevant offense. ↩
Contemporary legal scholars explained that GBMI verdicts “allow juries to provide mentally ill defendants with mental health treatment while ensuring penal detention of defendants following their in-patient treatment for mental illnesses.” Recent legal scholarship describes GBMI verdicts as “intended to hold defendants with mental illness criminally responsible while ostensibly promising psychiatric care for their mental illness in prison.” Importantly, research in Michigan following the creation of the GBMI verdict found it did not reduce the frequency of NGRI verdicts. ↩
Most GBMI statutes defer to the correctional system or state mental health authority to determine whether treatment is necessary, meaning that in most states with GBMI verdicts, people who are sentenced as GBMI are not legally required to receive treatment. ↩
This estimate is based on the combined NGRI/GBMI hospitalized population reported by the Treatment Advocacy Center (TAC) in 2024 and NRI in 2014. For details, see footnote 15. Additionally, in the National Association of State Mental Health Program Directors’ 2014 survey, five (unnamed) states provided GBMI inpatient census data: across four states, there were a total of 121 inpatient GBMI forced hospitalizations and in the fifth state, there were a reported 150 people sentenced as GBMI in prison. ↩
The Missouri researchers found that less than 15% of people who received NGRI acquittals were women. Compared to men acquitted under NGRI, women were older at the time of acquittal, less likely to have never been married, less likely to be diagnosed with schizophrenia, less likely to have a substance use diagnosis, as well as various offense-specific gender differences. ↩
Some states also detain people in these facilities before they are ever committed there by a court. These states include (but are possibly not limited to) Florida, Illinois, Minnesota, Missouri, New York, Texas, Washington, and Wisconsin. ↩
Unlike non-forensic psychiatric forced hospitalizations, individuals subject to “sexual offender” civil commitment laws are typically diagnosed with a paraphilia rather than a nonsexual, major mental health disorder. ↩
In addition, at least some states appear to have forms of “civil commitment” for people convicted of sex-related offenses that do not always require physical confinement in a treatment setting. For example:
Kansas: 56 of the 286 people (20%) civilly committed for sex offenses in the state are in community settings, Department of Corrections facilities, or jails, according to data provided by the Kansas Department for Aging and Disability Services in response to a February 2026 public records request.
Massachusetts: 7 of the 107 people (7%) civilly committed are not at the Massachusetts Treatment Center but are housed at “other facilities,” according to data provided by the Massachusetts Department of Correction in response to a February 2026 public records request.
For example, in some states, the civil commitment facilities for people convicted of sex offenses are in the same campus, building, or unit as the forensic services for competency restoration, NGRI, and GBMI:
Arizona: The Arizona State Hospital consists of the Forensic Hospital and the separate Arizona Community Protection and Treatment Center (ACPTC). People receiving competency restoration services or those hospitalized as “guilty except insane” (Arizona’s version of GBMI) or NGRI are confined in the Forensic Hospital. The ACPTC is the “civil commitment program” for people “adjudicated as Sexually Violent Persons (SVP).”
California: The statute governing civil commitment for sex offenses clearly states that commitment should be to “a state hospital under the direction of the State Department of State Hospitals” and that “if a state hospital is not used, the facility to be used shall be located on a site or sites determined by the Secretary of the Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation and the Director of State Hospitals”(CA Welfare & Institutions Code § 6600.05, 2025). Of course, state hospitals are also the site of forced hospitalizations for people found IST or NGRI.
Like other forms of involuntary hospitalization and treatment, policymakers focused on civil commitment for sex offenses have taken a page from probation and parole, and instituted conditional release programs in some states that “allow individuals the opportunity to work, live, and receive treatment in the community.” In many states, people civilly committed for sex-related convictions are subject to enhanced supervision and monitoring requirements when released into the community. Once granted a conditional release, individuals remain under the jurisdiction of the court. ↩
For example, in a 2015 survey of 20 state substance use treatment authorities, only seven had data available about how many people were in forced treatment for substance use disorders. ↩
The researchers point to evidence that forced hospitalizations cause significant destabilization in peoples’ lives, undoubtedly contributing to these negative outcomes. In particular, they highlight an increase in unemployment and a decrease in earnings, as well as an increase in use of homeless shelters for people who had not previously used a shelter. In addition, the researchers did not find that forced hospitalizations had any meaningful impact on continued outpatient care, like mental health services or prescription medication adherence. ↩
A 2022 study in Sweden found that among nearly 8,000 people “committed to compulsory care” for substance abuse (for 6 months) from 2000-2017, there was a threefold increased risk of dying immediately following their release. ↩
Most of the studies included in this metanalysis were correlational and missing information about the restoration procedures and assessment instruments, highlighting the utterly dismal lack of evidence supporting the widespread use of forced hospitalization for competency restoration. ↩
On Thursday, July 8, 2026, U.S. Congresswoman Alma S. Adams of North Carolina and Congresswoman Lucy McBath of Georgia introduced the Extreme Temperature Injustice in Prisons Act. This Act is a continuation of efforts by the Congresspeople to address the practice of subjecting people incarcerated in federal prisons to extreme, life-threatening temperatures. It stems from a 2025 letter of inquiry sent by the Congresspeople to the Federal Bureau of Prisons regarding conditions in their facilities. In their reply, the BOP revealed that nearly 19,000 people incarcerated in their facilities reported heat-related illnesses between January 2022 and September of 2025 alone. More than 40 were diagnosed with heat stroke.
The Prison Policy Initiative provided technical support to the drafters of the bill, and we are proud to endorse this legislation, which takes a much-needed step towards ensuring that people in federal prisons are afforded standardized safe living conditions.
The bill has several provisions designed to set standards, increase oversight, and mitigate harm. Among other things, this Act:
Authorizes funding for climate control system installation and upgrades in all federal prisons within five years, with temperature monitors in every cell and workspace.
Set clear health and safety standards for extreme heat and cold across work, recreational activities, and housing.
Directs the Center for Disease Control & Prevention (CDC) to research how extreme temperatures harm incarcerated individuals and staff and develop extra protections for elderly, pregnant, and immunocompromised individuals.
Provides free cooling and warming supplies — like cold water, fans, warm clothing, and blankets — when temperatures reach dangerous levels.
Implements accountability measures regarding staff training for recognizing and responding to heat and cold emergencies
Requires regular public reports on HVAC progress, temperature-related illness and deaths, and annual safety inspections.
As millions across the US face rising temperatures and heat advisories, people in prisons are routinely locked inside without access to air conditioning. Even those who are most vulnerable, like the many in prison with chronic medical issues, the elderly, and pregnant people, are left with few options to mitigate the deadly conditions. Advocates have long sounded the alarm about the dangers of extreme heat and cold temperatures in prisons, which put both individual lives and overall prison safety at extreme risk. No one should be forced to endure these conditions, particularly not those who safety is entrusted to government hands.
We at the Prison Policy Initiative strongly support the Extreme Temperature Injustice in Prisons Act, and applaud these efforts towards recognizing that people in prison are deserving of safe living conditions and basic human decency. A heatwave should not be a death sentence for people in prison.
Read the official press release for the Extreme Temperature Injustice in Prisons Act here.
For further information on the need for environmental justice in prisons, consider the following resources:
While 17 states and D.C. have taken discretionary parole off the table for most or all incarcerated people, they still have other forms of parole and conditional release that could safely release many more people from prison. Here, we examine these slimmed-down parole systems and other release mechanisms, and show they are not wildly different from states still using discretionary parole.
A common but misleading way to think about parole is that some states have it and some states do not. It’s true that manyresources (including our ownreports) will say that since 1976, more than a dozen states have done away with discretionary parole, requiring most or all criminally sentenced people to serve their full sentence instead of having an opportunity to demonstrate to a parole board their transformation and readiness for release. This approach taken by 17 states (and D.C.) to date is also known as part of a “truth-in-sentencing” structure for determining criminal sentences, and indeed took away a huge opportunity for early release for the vast majority of people entering prisons.
However, binary thinking about parole does not reflect the wide range of ways that states “do” parole and other forms of “early release”1 — particularly those states that are thought to have no parole. Their parole systems are just as worthy of assessment and reform as those we included in our recent two-part report on discretionary parole. In this briefing, a companion to that report, we answer some common questions about states “without parole” and how they compare to states with active discretionary parole systems.2
Here, we also fill in data gaps, providing a comprehensive table describing these often overlooked “post-parole” states. Using state statutes, agency websites, and news media, we compiled information about how these hollowed-out parole systems work, including eligibility criteria, board composition, outcomes, and other ways (if any) incarcerated people can earn an early release. These details can be found in full in the appendix table accompanying this briefing.
In 17 states and D.C., people are eligible for discretionary parole under old laws or narrow criteria
Every state that abolished or curtailed discretionary parole — which can also be generally described as shifting to a determinate sentencing structure — still has a fully functioning paroling authority, holding hearings and making a variety of decisions related to release and supervision. Even where some states’ parole-eligible populations are dwindling, the boards are typically tasked with other work, such as processing clemency applications or setting conditions for other types of release.
Characteristics of parole release systems in states without discretionary parole, 2026
Table 1. Characteristics of parole release systems in the jurisdictions that have eliminated or curtailed discretionary parole as of 2026 (17 states and D.C.). For the full table, which includes more information about each state’s parole board (or equivalent) and other opportunities for early release, see the Appendix.
State
Effective date of parole elimination
Parole-eligible groups
Number of people with access to discretionary parole
Description of non-discretionary post-release supervision
Arizona
1/1/94
Date of crime (People whose crimes were committed before parole was abolished); Specific sentencing rule (“Parole” language); Age at time of crime (Juvenile life sentences)”
Could not find
Post-release community supervision
California
1976
Life sentences; Age at time of crime (under 26); Crime type (“nonviolent third strikers” under Proposition 57)
41,464, as of 2021
Postrelease Community Supervision
Delaware
6/30/90
Date of crime
Could not find
District of Columbia
8/5/00
Date of crime
661, as of 2021
Mandatory supervised release
Florida
10/1/83
Date of crime; Specific sentencing rule (“outside the guidelines”)
Approx. 3,498 people as of June 30, 2023
Mandatory Conditional Release for some violent crimes, repeat offenses, and felony histories
Illinois
1978
Date of crime; Age at time of crime (emerging adults up to age 21)
39 as of 2022
Mandatory Supervised Release for 6 months to 3 years depending on the felony class
Indiana
10/1/77
Date of crime
At least 784, as of 2020
Mandatory parole
Kansas
7/1/93
Date of crime
Could not find
Post-release supervision: A predetermined period of supervision; Conditional release for indeterminate sentences
Louisiana
8/1/24
Date of crime
Could not find
Unclear
Maine
5/1/76
Date of crime
None, as of 2023
Supervised Community Confinement Program (by application only): allows someone to serve the final 2-2.5 years of a sentence in a residential setting
Minnesota
5/1/80
Age at time of crime (JLWOP prosecuted as adults, Extended Jurisdiction Juveniles who have to serve adult sentence); Life sentences; Crime type (sex-related convictions)
“Parole” typically for 1 to 2 years, with some exceptions
North Carolina
10/1/94
Date of crime
Could not find
Post-Release Supervision for 9 to 12 months, depending on the conviction, or for 5 years for some convictions
Ohio
7/1/96
Date of crime; Life sentences
8,469, as of 2023
Post-Release Control
Oregon
11/1/89
Date of crime
Could not find
Post-Prison Supervision
Virginia
1/1/95
Date of crime
Over 3,000, as of March 2026
Mandatory parole release for a minimum six months, plus a parole term ending on the maximum date
Washington
1984
Date of crime; Crime type (sex-related); Age at time of crime (Juveniles sentenced as adults)
Could not find
Some people will have supervision and some will not; DOC staff screen individuals for community supervision eligibility based on sentence structure and other criteria; Some people can be referred for “partial confinement” within 30 months of minimum release date
Wisconsin
12/31/99
Date of crime; Crime type (sentences deemed “non-Truth-In-Sentencing”)
1,571, as of May 2026
Extended Supervision, determined by the judge at sentencing (but must be at least one-fourth of confinement sentence)
Our findings about parole in these states include:
In all 17 states and D.C., people who committed crimes before parole was abolished are still eligible for parole. In states such as Maine and Indiana, this means that someone must still be incarcerated for a crime committed in the 1970s or earlier; Wisconsin and Virginia are among the states that passed their corresponding laws in the 1990s.
In 10 states, there are other situations that make someone eligible for discretionary parole, such as having a life sentence (4 states), being a youth or young adult at the time of the crime (5 states), or being sentenced outside of the truth-in-sentencing guidelines (3 states).
The number of parole-eligible people — in the few states where we could locate such data — ranges from zero (in Maine) to over 41,000 (in California). States where eligibility is based solely on the date of the crime generally have low and dwindling parole-eligible populations.
Parole boards or their equivalent (such as a “review board”) in these states range in size from three to 21 members, but more than half (9 states) have five-member boards. In every state except Ohio, these board members are appointed by the governor.3
Where data were available, we found parole grant rates ranging from 1% (in Virginia) to 23% (in Minnesota). By contrast, our analysis of states with discretionary parole found recent grant rates as high as 76%, with a dozen states reporting over 50% of hearings resulting in a grant. (Note that parole grant rates are difficult to compare to one another because parole applicants and eligibility criteria can vary so widely.)
Most states (15) offer some type of medical parole or compassionate release, but in some cases this opportunity is framed as an “extraordinary” release; in Wisconsin, an approved medical situation can result in resentencing, rather than a direct release.
Looking at the structure and function of these parole systems, it’s evident that states without discretionary parole look a lot like states with it. Every state’s parole board, hearing format, and eligibility rules offer something for advocates to note and assess, for example against the core principles of parole.
Other opportunities for early release aren’t unique to states without discretionary parole, and aren’t actually letting many eligible people out
It is critical for states to have mechanisms for evaluating long sentences and releasing people whose incarceration is no longer justifiable. Other than discretionary parole, there are several statutory “release valves” that states could be using, such as medical parole, resentencing, and earned or good time systems; we introduce these and more in our 2018 report, Eight Keys to Mercy.
It would be one thing if the 17 states without discretionary parole (plus D.C.) had well-functioning release tools, with streamlined application processes and broad eligibility leading to thousands of releases annually, but this is objectively not the case. Plenty of states with discretionary parole have these release mechanisms, too, and they are universally underutilized. Below, we break down some of the most common early release opportunities found in prisons, showing that these 17 states and D.C. should (but do not) lean on them more heavily to relieve overcrowded prisons and safely return people to their communities.
Mandatory parole. Some states that ended discretionary parole replaced it with a system of mandatory parole, where at least some time on supervision is required at the end of someone’s sentence. For example, Illinois has had Mandatory Supervised Release since 1978, and New Mexico has post-release supervision, two programs for which the parole boards set conditions for people but do not have the final say in their readiness for release. But mandatory supervision is not an innovation from states that eliminated parole; it exists in many other states, like Alabama, Massachusetts, Texas, and West Virginia.4
Mandatory post-release supervision may sound like an improvement on discretionary parole because, for the most part, a parole board cannot stop someone’s “mandatory” release. But research suggests that this approach to release may not be effective, with higher re-arrest levels compared to discretionary parole release5 and lower levels of successful supervision completion.6 Even when mandatory supervision “works,” it is no replacement for discretionary parole.
Medical or geriatric parole. As we have explained, medical parole7 often sets an extremely high bar for applicants to meet, and as a result, many extremely ill or incapacitated people remain locked up and sometimes die before their cases are considered. Most states have medical parole, geriatric parole (for older people, regardless of health condition), or both, but they release so few people that they are effectively “everywhere and nowhere.” Of the 18 jurisdictions without discretionary parole, Arizona is the only one with neither medical parole nor geriatric parole, leaving few options for addressing the reality of prisons turning into nursing homes.8
Some states are revisiting their medical parole laws to expand eligibility or streamline the application process, but these efforts9 have not resulted in more releases. According to some prison systems’ own data, dozens of people are so sick that they require acute long-term care or 24-hour nursing care behind bars at any given time, vastly outnumbering those who are granted medical parole over an entire year.
Earned time and good time. These policies credit days off of a criminal sentence for completing programs or education behind bars, or maintaining a clean disciplinary record. Sentencing credit structures range from day-for-day (one day without disciplinary infractions leads to one day off of the sentence) to just a few days’ credit for a month of compliant behavior. States with strict truth-in-sentencing laws tend to have stingy earned and good time policies,10 so they should not be considered comparable to discretionary parole. Rather, sentencing credits should complement opportunities to discuss growth and transformation in front of a parole board.
Resentencing, sentence review, or “second look” sentencing. More and more, states are responding to the vast body of research showing that long prison sentences don’t work, passing legislation that authorizes judges to review a sentence after someone has served a specific amount of time. This mechanism, while fundamentally different from discretionary parole in its core question and structure, has great potential to redress excessive prison sentences rooted in outdated ideas about punishment. Disappointingly, only 15 states have second look laws on the books (beyond those that address juvenile or young adult life-without-parole sentences); seven of those states lack discretionary parole.
Finally, most governors have the authority to grant release or modify a sentence11 as an act of clemency or under extraordinary circumstances. However, they often shy away from such merciful actions due to inevitable political blowback.
States that have done away with discretionary parole are still making sweeping changes to their parole systems
Advocates in states that don’t have discretionary parole should still pay attention to their parole or post-release supervision system because reforms or rollbacks can easily move the needle on decarceration in either direction. In a move that will place release further out of reach for incarcerated people, Kansas recently overhauled its parole board, increasing victim and law enforcement experiential requirements and transferring the power to appoint board members from the corrections director to the state attorney general and governor, further solidifying the board as an extension of political power rather than a professional agency.
New Mexico, on the other hand, passed legislation acknowledging that parole should be based on dynamic factors and demonstrated rehabilitation, rather than static factors such as the original crime or a conviction history. The static factors are still included in the law as part of the bevy of information the parole board will look at, but this statutory framing that prioritizes readiness for release is a huge step forward, grounding parole in forward-looking criteria.
The biggest recent change to parole in this cohort of states likely took place in Minnesota, where an entirely new Supervised Release Board (SRB) was established in 2024 to oversee post-release supervision for a growing number of incarcerated people. The SRB will now replace the commissioner of corrections as the decision-making authority for releasing eligible people (such as those with life sentences), increasing the capacity to hold hearings and post decisions.
Further, unlike many other states in our analysis, Minnesota’s SRB does not handle clemency or medical parole applications, potentially making its workload lighter than that of other boards.12 Still, some incarcerated people in Minnesota have to serve 30 years behind bars before becoming eligible for supervised release, far longer than what manyadvocates suggest is reasonable.
Parole in every state is flawed, but discretionary parole should be an option for all incarcerated people
As our research over the years has shown, no state is “doing” parole well. But every incarcerated person should have access to discretionary parole as a bedrock opportunity for release after showing transformation and preparedness. Lawmakers in the 18 jurisdictions that have curtailed discretionary parole should consider that loved ones and taxpayers are footing the bill for such an ineffective approach.
Beyond some of the changes described above, some advocates in these states (namely Illinois and Maine) are going to the root of the problem and campaigning to reinstate discretionary parole. Still other states, such as Wisconsin and Washington, have advocates working on establishing or expanding compassionate release, resentencing, or other release mechanisms to combat excessively long sentences and the crisis of aging in prison. Ultimately, any reform related to parole, sentencing, or early release should be retroactive, set out broad criteria that do not carve out certain convictions, and offer a straightforward process for consideration.
Parole and other release mechanisms are found in every state but are vastly underused. When wielded more broadly, more urgently, and without politics, they can meaningfully reduce the nation’s overreliance on incarceration.
Footnotes
In the case of parole and other similar forms of post-release supervision, this release comes with a term of supervision that is equal to the time left on the sentence or a fixed duration, such as one year. People on supervision are still considered to be serving their sentence, and so are not truly “released” from state control. ↩
Astute readers will notice that California and Louisiana were included in Parole in Perspective, our recent analysis of discretionary parole systems. We included both states for unique reasons: California technically does not broadly offer discretionary parole to people serving criminal sentences, but the sheer number of people in groups that are eligible (like those serving parole-eligible life sentences) — around 41,000 people in 2021 — merited that state’s inclusion in the report. And in Louisiana, discretionary parole had only been abolished one year prior (on August 1, 2024), meaning that most of the incarcerated population still had access to parole. ↩
In Ohio, the director of corrections makes appointments to its parole board. Among states with discretionary parole, there are four states in which someone other than the governor (such as the attorney general or someone from the department of corrections) makes at least one appointment to its parole board. ↩
Confusingly, Texas has something called discretionary mandatory supervision (DMS), which replaced mandatory supervision in 1996. Under DMS, Texas’ parole board can grant or deny release to someone who would otherwise be eligible for old-law mandatory supervision based on the good conduct time they’ve earned. This release is separate from parole, although both are handled by the Board of Pardons and Paroles. ↩
One study of 38,000 people released from 15 states in the early 1990s found that mandatory release programs had higher re-arrest levels. ↩
According to Bureau of Justice Statistics parole release data from 1983 to 1999, people released to mandatory parole had lower levels of supervision completion compared to discretionary parole releases. ↩
Medical parole is known in some states as compassionate release, medical release, or conditional release for medical reasons or terminal illness. ↩
Iowa and West Virginia also have no medical or geriatric parole laws on the books, but they have discretionary parole. ↩
That is, in states with truth-in-sentencing laws and sentencing credits, those credits can only add up to a certain percentage of the total sentence, such as 15% or 20%. ↩
For example, a commutation can shorten someone’s sentence, or turn a life-without-parole sentence into a parole-eligible sentence. ↩
As we discuss in Part 1 of Parole in Perspective, parole boards with multiple high-stakes responsibilities are often understaffed and overworked, leading to backlogs and rushed decisions that often err on the side of keeping people locked up. ↩
HB 338 would end access to higher education for people in maximum security prisons in Ohio, making prisons less safe and worsening outcomes after release.
On June 10, 2026, the Prison Policy Initiative submitted written testimony in the Ohio Senate in opposition to HB 338, also known as “Andy’s Law”.
The bill claims to promote safety in prisons, but instead is counterproductive. It removes all higher education from maximum security prisons in Ohio, and bans access to tablets and contact visitation. As our testimony notes, higher education in prison is shown to reduce both recidivism and violent incidents in custody. In short, it makes prisons and communities safer.
If you are a criminal legal system reform advocate or legislator who would like to talk to our Advocacy department about providing testimony for or against a bill, please reach out to us using our contact form.
Two recent studies authored by Professor Carmen Gutierrez and her colleagues show that prior incarceration is associated with various geriatric health conditions and reduced life expectancy later in life.
As a consequence of the dramatic expansion of incarceration in the last 50 years, a significant and growing portion of older adults in the U.S. have experienced incarceration.1 In fact, three in every four people released from state prisons between 1991 and 2021 — more than 12 million people — would be over the age of 50 by 2026.2 Most existing research about the effects of incarceration on health and mortality have focused on the initial weeks, months, and years after people are released from prison,3 but two recent studies call attention to the health and mortality consequences of incarceration that can take place decades later, when people are 50 or older. The most recent of these studies finds that older adults who have experienced any incarceration have shorter life expectancies than those who haven’t. The other study, published in 2024, reveals troubling details about the health and wellbeing of older formerly incarcerated people compared to their peers who have never been locked up. Taken together, these studies highlight the serious health consequences in later life that stem from past incarceration.
Older adults who have ever been incarcerated face reduced life expectancy
The newest publication from Professor Carmen Gutierrez and her colleagues, published last month (May 2026) in the American Journal of Public Health, is one of the first studies to show that any history of incarceration increases mortality (death) risk for older adults. While prior research has shown that incarceration acceleratesphysiological aging and shortens life expectancy overall, there is little known about how incarceration impacts mortality risk in later adulthood specifically. The researchers find that older adults who have experienced any amount or form of incarceration in their lives have shorter life expectancies than their peers who have never been incarcerated.
Professor Gutierrez and her colleagues analyzed the results of the 2012 and 2014 iterations of the Health & Retirement Study, a longitudinal, nationally representative survey of nearly 14,000 U.S. adults over the age of 50. As a measure of incarceration history, the survey asks a simple yes-or-no question: “Have you ever been incarcerated, that is, spent time in a jail, prison, juvenile detention center or other correctional facility?” The study also links individual responses to participants’ administrative records, including their appearance in the National Death Index. The researchers measured participants’ rates of death from any cause (i.e., all-cause mortality rates) between the 2012 and 2014 surveys and the follow-up interviews conducted in 2022, when the respondents would be roughly 60 or older.
While controlling for other characteristics like age, sex, race and ethnicity, and childhood health and socioeconomic factors, the researchers found that formerly incarcerated older people have an 88% higher hazard of premature death compared to those with no incarceration history.4 More specifically, older people who have experienced incarceration are expected to live nearly six fewer years than similar peers who have never been incarcerated. Formerly incarcerated men and women died at significantly younger average ages (74.8 and 68 years, respectively) than men and women without incarceration histories (82.3 years and 82.9 years, respectively).5 For men between 50 and 75 years old, the difference was even greater at close to eight fewer years, but after age 75, incarceration history appeared to have less of an effect on life expectancy.
In addition to its findings about mortality, this study found significant demographic differences between older adults with histories of incarceration and those with none, consistent with what we know about the socioeconomic and racial disparities of incarceration. Compared to older adults with no prior incarceration, formerly incarcerated older adults were more likely to be Black and to report childhood poverty, childhood housing insecurity, lower educational attainment, and fair or poor self-rated health (as opposed to good, very good, or excellent health). In addition, formerly incarcerated older adults were more likely to be unmarried, unemployed, and have a disability than those never incarcerated.
Incarceration is tied to serious health problems in later adulthood
An earlier study authored by a team of academic researchers including Professor Gutierrez — published in the Journal of Gerontology in 2024 — sheds more light on the health of formerly incarcerated people in their older age, with particular focus on chronic conditions that undoubtedly contribute to their shortened life expectancy. Previous research has shown that incarceration takes a toll on both individualhealthandpublichealth, but this study provides evidence that incarceration is associated with poor health outcomes specifically in later life. The researchers find that any past incarceration is associated with impairments of mobility, vision, and activities of daily living,6 as well as diagnoses of cancer, depression, and chronic lung disease among people 50 and older in the U.S.
This study is based on an analysis of data from the National Longitudinal Study of Adolescent to Adult Health (Add Health), which follows a nationally representative sample of over 20,000 people who were in grades 7-12 during the 1994-95 school year. The research team analyzed data collected from two specific groups of people7 in this massive, long-term study:
Parents: A survey of parents — biological, adoptive, or stepparents — of children who participated in the Add Health study. Almost all (96%) of the surveyed “parents” were women (mothers).
Partners of parents: A survey of the cohabitating partners and spouses of the adults in the “parent” sample, as of the 1994 survey. The vast majority (95%) of these respondents were men (fathers or other male partners). To be clear, “partners” could also be parents of Add Health study participants, but only one adult in each household was included in the “parent” sample.
At the time of the 2015, 2016, and 2017 rounds of the Add Health study, there were 2,007 parents and 976 partners of parents who were at least 50 years old. The researchers analyzed survey responses about age-related health concerns among these nearly 3,000 older adults to compare those who reported any history of incarceration and those with no previous incarceration.8
In terms of health outcomes, the researchers found that the prevalence rates of a number of age-related conditions were higher among formerly incarcerated older adults. In the sample of parents (again, primarily mothers), those who were formerly incarcerated faced significantly higher rates of cancer, heart disease, stroke, depression, and chronic lung disease. In addition, those who had experienced incarceration were more likely to rate their own health as poor or fair, as opposed to parents without incarceration histories. When controlling for age and sex differences, parents with histories of incarceration were more likely to report difficulty walking and difficulty with activities of daily living than those parents with no history of incarceration.
Among the partner sample, made up of mostly men, the researchers also found alarmingly elevated rates of age-related health concerns associated with previous incarceration. In particular, prevalence rates of cancer, depression, chronic lung disease, and “heavy” alcohol use9 were significantly higher among formerly incarcerated people in the partner sample compared to those with no prior incarceration. In addition, formerly incarcerated partners reported difficulty with walking, seeing, and with activities of daily living at higher rates than those who reported no time spent in jail or prison. While the researchers do not explain the reason for the different findings between the parent sample and the partner sample, sex is the most obvious difference.
Aside from the findings about health concerns among formerly incarcerated older adults, the analysis of these samples also helps paint a picture of formerly incarcerated parents. First, incarceration was more common in the sample of partners (mostly men) than among the sample of parents (mostly women): 15% of partners reported any previous incarceration compared to only 4.2% of parents. Compared to parents and partners with no incarceration history, a greater portion of parents and partners with incarceration histories were Black, reported parental childhood abuse, had lower educational attainment, and reported receiving public assistance in the past 12 months. In terms of their access to healthcare, parents and partners who had ever been incarcerated were more likely to identify the emergency department as their usual source of medical care, report at least one overnight hospital stay in the past 12 months, and/or to have Medicaid or no health insurance. These differences tell us that not only are formerly incarcerated older adults particularly vulnerable to a number of serious health issues, a number of socioeconomic factors also limit their access to the appropriate and necessary care.
Conclusion
Millions of formerly incarcerated people are aging into older adulthood: approximately 1 in 15 adults aged 50 or over has a history of incarceration and therefore faces both an elevated risk of death and a number of serious medical conditions. These two studies provide further evidence that incarceration isa social determinant of health and should be included in assessments of public health. In addition, the elevated mortality risk and prevalence of chronic age-related conditions among formerly incarcerated older adults in these studies supports the argument that healthcare providersneed to considerindividuals’ historyof incarceration to better understand the health risks they may face.
Footnotes
State prison and local jail incarceration rates nationwide peaked in 2007, with 447 people and 259 people incarcerated per 100,000 residents (respectively). The federal prison incarceration rate peaked in 2011, with 429 people incarcerated per 100,000 residents. In terms of sheer number of people incarcerated, the population in local jails nationwide peaked in 2008 (785,500), the number in state prisons nationwide peaked in 2009 (1.4 million), and the federal prison population peaked in 2011 (197,050). And while incarceration rates have declined from these peaks, the United States still incarcerates millions of people each year (including tens of thousands of older adults), and many of the consequences of their time in jail or prison stick with them for the rest of their lives. For a visualization of incarceration rates and populations over time, see: https://www.prisonpolicy.org/blog/2026/04/27/updated-charts-2026/. The underlying population and rate data are accessible at: http://www.prisonpolicy.org/data/incarceration_counts_and_rates_by_type_over_time.xlsx. ↩
For a list of academic and government research into the association between incarceration and health and mortality, see our health and healthcare research library. A few noteworthy findings on the health and mortality impacts of incarceration include:
Elevated risk for hospitalization at 7, 30, and 90 days after release from a correctional facility (Wang et al., 2013);
Markedly heightened risk of opioid overdose in the first two weeks after release from prison (Hartung et al., 2023);
During the first 2 weeks after release, the risk of death among former incarcerated people was nearly 13 times that among other state residents (Binswanger et al., 2007);
At 2-weeks, 1-year, and complete follow-up (maximum 16 years) after release from North Carolina state prisons, the respective opioid overdose death risk among formerly incarcerated people was 40, 11, and 8 times as high as general North Carolina residents (Ranapurwala et al., 2018);
People incarcerated in 2008 experienced a 39% higher risk of all-cause mortality and more than 3 times the risk of overdose mortality compared with nonincarcerated individuals across an 11-year period (Khatri et al., 2025).
The results in this study are presented as hazard ratios, or the ratio between the probability of death (in the time between the first survey and the follow-up survey) for one group (formerly incarcerated people) compared to another group (those without incarceration histories). For example, formerly incarcerated people have an 88% higher hazard of death compared to those with no incarceration history (a hazard ratio of 1.88).
The researchers used three different analytic models:
Model 1 estimated the association of incarceration history and mortality while controlling for age, sex, and race/ethnicity.
Model 2 estimated this association while controlling for age, sex, race/ethnicity, plus indicators of childhood socioeconomic status (rating of well-off, average, or poor and housing insecurity) and self-rated childhood health (fair, poor, excellent, very good, or good).
Model 3 included additional control variables: educational attainment, wealth, marital status, disability status, and employment.
The researchers present Model 2 as the preferred analytic option because it controls for demographics and childhood sociodemographics. While Model 3 includes more control variables, these adult characteristics were likely measured after incarceration and therefore may themselves be consequences of incarceration. All three analytic models showed that incarceration is significantly associated with mortality in older adulthood. ↩
The greatest difference in life expectancy was among women, with a nearly 15-year gap between those who had been incarcerated and those who hadn’t. The researchers weren’t able to measure that difference while controlling for other factors, however, as the sample of formerly incarcerated women was too small. ↩
In Appendix A, activities of daily living (ADLs) are defined as bathing, dressing, and standing up from a chair. ↩
The adolescent participants in Add Health were a nationally representative sample, so the parent sample is also a nationally representative sample. Unlike the parent sample, the partner sample is not necessarily nationally representative. ↩
As in the Health & Retirement Study, incarceration history was measured as the self-reported yes-or-no response to “Have you ever been incarcerated, that is, spent time in a jail, prison, juvenile detention center or other correctional facility?” ↩
In Appendix A, heavy alcohol use is defined as having a drink containing alcohol four or more times in a week. ↩
Protecting family connections and bonds with loved ones during incarceration is one of the most important and, increasingly, one of the most difficult things advocates can do. Contact visitation, handwritten cards and letters, and regular phone calls improve mental health outcomes for both people in prisons and the families who love and support them. They also strengthen parent-child relationships and familial bonds, improve in-prison conduct and make prisons safer, and can significantly increase a person’s chance of success upon release.
Nevertheless, jails and prisons across the country are implementing increasingly restrictive communication policies. Contact visitation is under attack, and more than 30 states no longer allow incarcerated people to receive physical mail from their loved ones. These moves, ostensibly in the name of security, not only devastate incarcerated people and their loved ones but make us all less safe in the long run. But families are fighting back, championing policies to protect these vital lifelines and the benefits that come with them.
On July 1, Prison Policy Initiative hosted a webinar Jodi Hocking, Executive Director of Return Strong Nevada, and Taj Mahon-Haft PhD, Director of The Humanization Project in Virginia. We took a closer look at the importance of family connections, learned more about the ways they are under attack, and shared strategies to help families fight back.
Spanish language interpretation is available by selecting the “Spanish” audio track in the “Settings” menu on the webinar’s YouTube video. The American Sign Language interpreter feed for this video is available here.
The Humanization Project — Webinar guest Taj Mahon-Haft is the director and co-founder of this Virginia-based organization, which seeks to inspire more humane, compassionate treatment of all people behind bars by humanizing their lives via their voices, mutual education and research.
Return Strong — Webinar guest Jodi Hocking is the executive director of this Nevada-based organization, which works to protect the humanity of those affected by incarceration right now while simultaneously setting the foundation for a future free from prisons.