By Aleks Kajstura and Wendy Sawyer
March 5, 2024
Press release
With growing public attention to the problem of mass incarceration, people want to know about women’s experiences with incarceration. How many women are held in prisons, jails, and other correctional facilities in the United States? Why are they there? How are their experiences different from men’s? These are important questions, but finding the answers requires not only disentangling the country’s decentralized and overlapping criminal legal systems,1 but also unearthing the frustratingly limited data that’s broken down by gender.2
This report provides a detailed view of the 190,600 women and girls incarcerated in the United States and how they fit into the even broader picture of correctional control. We pull together data from a number of government agencies and break down the number of women and girls held by each correctional system, by specific offense, in 446 state prisons, 27 federal prisons, 3,116 local jails, 1,323 juvenile correctional facilities, 80 Indian country jails, and 80 immigration detention facilities, as well as in military prisons, civil commitment centers, and prisons in the U.S. territories.3 We also go beyond the numbers, including rare self-reported data from a national survey of people in prison4 to offer new insights about incarcerated women’s backgrounds, families, health, and experiences in prison. This report answers the questions of why and where women are locked up — and much more:
Most notably, and in stark contrast to the total incarcerated population, where the state prison systems hold twice as many people as are held in jails, more incarcerated women are held in jails than in state prisons. As we will explain, the outsized role of jails has serious consequences for incarcerated women and their families.
Women’s incarceration has grown at twice the pace of men’s incarceration in recent decades, and has disproportionately been located in local jails. The data needed to explain exactly what happened, when, and why do not yet exist, not least because the data on women has long been obscured by the larger scale of men’s incarceration. Frustratingly, even as this report is updated using many of the same data sources from year to year, it is not a direct tool for tracking changes in women’s incarceration over time because we are forced to rely on the limited sources available, which are neither updated regularly nor always compatible across years.
Particularly in light of the scarcity of gender-specific data, the disaggregated numbers presented here are an important step to ensuring that women are not left behind in the effort to end mass incarceration.5
A staggering number of women who are incarcerated are not even convicted: more than a quarter of women who are behind bars have not yet had a trial. Moreover, 60% of women in jails under local control have not been convicted of a crime and are awaiting trial.
Aside from women under local authority (or jurisdiction), state and federal agencies also pay local jails to house nearly 9,000 additional women. For example, ICE and the U.S. Marshals Service, which have fewer dedicated facilities for their detainees, contract with local jails to hold roughly 2,900 women. So, the number of women physically held in jails is even higher:
Avoiding pretrial detention is particularly challenging for women. The number of unconvicted women stuck in jail is surely not because courts are considering women to be a flight risk, particularly when they are generally the primary caregivers of children. The far more likely answer is that incarcerated women, who have lower incomes than incarcerated men, have an even harder time affording money bail. When the typical bail amounts to a full year’s income for women,6 it’s no wonder that women are stuck in jail awaiting trial.7
Even once convicted, the system funnels women into jails: About one-third (32%) of convicted incarcerated women are held in jails, compared to about 13% of all people incarcerated with a conviction. This reflects the different distribution of offense types and criminal histories between convicted men and women. Women are proportionally more likely to be serving a sentence of incarceration for a property or drug offense and less likely to be incarcerated for a violent offense when compared to men. These differences mean that women are more likely to be sentenced to a term in jail, where people typically serve shorter sentences of up to one year.8
So, what does it mean that large numbers of women are held in jail — for them, and for their families? First, while stays in jail are generally shorter than in stays in prison, jails can be especially deadly for women. Women have a higher mortality rate than men in jails, dying of drug and alcohol intoxication at twice the rate of men. And the number of deaths by suicide among women in jails increased by almost 65% between the periods of 2000-2004 and 2015-2019. Women are more likely than men to enter jail with a medical problem or a serious mental illness and while incarcerated, women are more likely to suffer from mental health problems and experience serious psychological distress.9 Being locked up doesn’t help: Research shows that incarceration can cause lasting damage to mental health.
Compounding the problem is the fact that jails are particularly poorly positioned to provide proper health care. In fact, local jails tend to offer fewer services and programs overall than prisons do, and because most programs are designed for the larger male population, women may not even have access to programming that’s available to men in the same jail. (However, this is certainly not to say that prisons are always better at meeting women’s needs, as we will discuss further.)
Jails also make it harder to stay in touch with family than prisons do. Jail phone calls are often at least three times as expensive as calls from prison, and other forms of communication are more restricted — some jails don’t even allow real letters, limiting mail to postcards. Increasingly, both prisons and jails are doing away with real mail altogether and contracting with private companies that scan and then destroy postal mail, delivering shoddy scanned copies to the recipients. These barriers to authentic communication are especially troubling given that 80% of women in jails are mothers, and most of them are primary caretakers of their children. Thus children are particularly susceptible to the domino effect of burdens placed on incarcerated women.
The numbers revealed by this report enable a national conversation about policies that impact women incarcerated by different government agencies and in different types of facilities. These figures also serve as the foundation for reforming the policies that lead to incarcerating women in the first place.
Too often, the conversation about criminal justice reform starts and stops with the question of “non-violent” drug and property offenses. While drug and property offenses make up more than half of the offenses for which women are incarcerated, the pie chart reveals that all offenses — including the violent offenses that account for over a quarter10 of all incarcerated women — must be considered in the effort to reduce the number of incarcerated women in this country. This fact underscores the need for reform discussions to focus not just on the easier choices but on the policy changes that will have the most impact. Particularly in light of the fact that many survivors of domestic and sexual abuse have been incarcerated for violent crimes that occurred in response to gendered violence and abuse, exclusions from reforms based on entire offense categories make even less sense.
Furthermore, even among women, incarceration is not indiscriminate and reforms should address the disparities related to LBTQ+ status, race, and ethnicity as well. A 2017 study revealed that one-third of incarcerated women identify as lesbian or bisexual,11 compared to less than 10% of men. The same study found that lesbian and bisexual women are likely to receive longer sentences than their heterosexual peers, and more likely to be put into solitary confinement.
And although the data do not exist to break down the “whole pie” by race or ethnicity, we know that Black and American Indian or Alaska Native women are consistently overrepresented in state and federal prisons: Women in prison are 48% white, 17% Black, 19% Hispanic, 2.5% American Indian or Alaska Native, 0.7% Asian, and 13% “other.”12 While we are a long way from having data on intersectional impacts of sexuality and race or ethnicity on women’s likelihood of incarceration, it is clear that Black and lesbian or bisexual women and girls are disproportionately subject to incarceration.13
Nearly 7,000 young women and girls are caught up in various systems of confinement, very often for minor and even non-criminal offenses. About half are held in facilities for the juvenile justice system, and almost as many are unaccompanied migrant children in facilities operated by the Office of Refugee Resettlement (ORR).14 While children held by ORR are not held for any criminal or delinquent offense, most are held in shelters or even juvenile placement facilities under detention-like conditions.15 And a not-insignificant number of confined girls are actually held in adult prisons and jails. Like their adult counterparts, confined girls often report identities that are marginalized in the U.S. along lines of race, gender, and sexual orientation.
For nearly 1 in 4 girls (23%) confined by the juvenile justice system, the most serious charge levelled against them is a non-criminal “technical” violation of probation (16%) or a status offense (7%), such as “running away, truancy, and incorrigibility.” These are behaviors that would not warrant confinement except for these girls’ status as probationers or as minors. By comparison, boys are held for these technical violations and status offenses at half the rate of girls. The use of confinement in response to status offenses is particularly troubling because those behaviors tend to be simply responses to abuse.
Girls of color and those who identify as LBTQ+ are disproportionately confined by the juvenile justice system. Black girls account for 32% of all girls in juvenile facilities, despite making up just 14% of girls under 18 nationwide; similarly, 3.5% of girls in juvenile facilities are American Indian or Alaska Natives, compared to less than 1% of girls nationwide.16 And while LBTQ+ women are overrepresented in the adult correctional systems, a staggering 40% of girls in the juvenile justice system are lesbian, bisexual, or questioning and gender non-conforming. The comparable statistic for boys is just under 14%.
While society and the criminal legal systems subject all girls to stricter codes of conduct than is expected of their male peers, Black girls in particular shoulder an added burden of adultification — being perceived as older, more culpable, and more responsible than their peers — which leads to greater contact with and harsher consequences within the juvenile justice system. In fact, about 160 girls aged 17 or younger are locked up in adult prisons and jails,17 the result of laws that allow the transfer of youth from juvenile to adult criminal courts. In 2021, 133 girls were “waived” to criminal courts from the juvenile system — about 6% of all cases “waived.” More than one-third (37%) of those girls were Black.
About half of confined women and girls are held in state and federal prisons.18 In general, women in prison are serving longer sentences than those in jails, and they are often located far from their families and friends. In many geographically large states there is just one facility for women,19 making visits difficult for children and other loved ones located hundreds of miles away.20 But this is just one of the many challenges facing women in prison, as we found in our 2022 analysis of a rich dataset published by the Bureau of Justice Statistics, the 2016 Survey of Prison Inmates.21
The data from the survey offer a rare in-depth look at the backgrounds and experiences of people in prison, relying on responses from incarcerated people themselves, rather than the administrative data that’s easier to collect from prison systems. In our analysis, we focused on people held in state prisons, who make up a much larger piece of the “whole pie” than those in federal prisons. Among our findings, and those of the Bureau of Justice Statistics, we see that in state prisons nationwide:22
These statistics confirm much of what we know about incarcerated women from previous research: By almost any measure, women in prison are worse off than men, both leading up to and during their incarceration. Furthermore, the underlying causes of women’s criminal behavior are distinct from men’s and show that they would be better served in treatment programs in their communities than by criminal legal system punishments.25
Even the “whole pie” of incarceration in the chart above represents just one small portion (17%) of the women under any form of correctional control, which includes 808,700 women on probation or parole.26 Again, this is in stark contrast to the total correctional population (mostly men), where one-third (34%) of all people under correctional control are in prisons and jails.
To avoid double-counting, any woman with more than one status was included in the most restrictive category, with probation counted as the least restrictive and imprisonment as the most restrictive. Percentages may not total 100% due to rounding.
Nearly three-quarters of women (73%) under the control of any U.S. correctional system are on probation. Probation is often billed as an alternative to incarceration, but instead it is frequently set with unrealistic conditions that undermine its goal of keeping people from being locked up.27 For example, probation often comes with steep fees, which, like bail, women are in the worst position to afford.28 Failing to pay these probation fees is often a non-criminal “technical” violation of probation. Childcare duties further complicate the common probation requirement to meet regularly with probation officers, especially for women with no extra money to spend on childcare or reliable transportation across town. And probation violations — even for these innocuous and understandable reasons — can land women in jail or prison who were never sentenced to incarceration. In fact, our analysis of the 2016 Survey of Prison Inmates found that one-third (33%) of women in state prisons were on probation at the time of their arrest, which underscores how this “alternative to incarceration” often simply delays incarceration.
In the wake of the 2022 Supreme Court decision to overturn Roe v. Wade, restrictive pretrial, probation, and parole conditions can also create barriers to accessing reproductive health care. Restrictions on travel are “standard conditions” of supervision in many places, requiring approval from a probation or parole officer to make specific trips. With many states now restricting access to and criminalizing abortion, seeking abortion or other reproductive care may be difficult or impossible for many of the hundreds of thousands of women on probation or parole in those states.
Reentry is another critical point at which women are too often left behind. Almost 2.5 million women and girls are released from prisons and jails every year,29 but fewer post-release programs are available to them — partly because so many women are confined to jails, which are not meant to be used for long-term incarceration. Additionally, many women with criminal records face barriers to employment in female-dominated occupations, such as nursing and elder care.30 It is little surprise, therefore, that formerly incarcerated women — especially women of color — are also more likely to be unemployed and/or homeless than formerly incarcerated men, making reentry and compliance with probation or parole even more difficult. All of these issues make women particularly vulnerable to being incarcerated not because they commit crimes, but because they run afoul of one of the burdensome obligations of their community supervision.
Like probation before it, electronic monitoring is touted as an “alternative” to incarceration, but it is being used to expand the scope of correctional control rather than reduce the number of people behind bars. The rapid expansion of electronic monitoring in the pretrial context has created “an entirely new path to incarceration via ‘technical violations.’” And ICE’s “Alternatives to Detention” and “Intensive Supervision Appearance Program,” which both rely almost entirely on electronic monitoring, now subject hundreds of thousands more people to constant surveillance and the threat of detention or deportation than just a few years ago. Unlike probation, electronic monitoring is so constrictive that it amounts to a form of “e-carceration.” Unfortunately, the available data are not broken down by sex or gender identity, but with nearly half a million people on electronic monitoring across the criminal legal and immigration systems in 2022, it’s safe to assume that many, many women are confined by this form of mass incarceration as well.
The picture of women’s incarceration is far from complete, and many questions remain about mass incarceration’s unique impact on women. This report offers the critical estimate that a quarter of all incarcerated women are unconvicted. But — since the federal government hasn’t collected the key underlying data in 20 years — is that number growing? And how do the harms of that unnecessary incarceration intersect with women’s disproportionate caregiving to impact families? Beyond these big picture questions, there are a plethora of detailed data points that are not reported for women by any government agencies. In addition to the many data holes and limitations mentioned throughout this report, we’re missing other basic data, such as the simple number of women incarcerated in U.S. territories or involuntarily committed to state psychiatric hospitals because of justice system involvement.
As public awareness has grown about the differences between gender identity and sex assigned at birth, there has been a growing interest in the question of how transgender and nonbinary individuals experience incarceration. Unfortunately, government surveys that break down data between “male” and “female” categories often include trans men among “females” and trans women among “males,” relying on housing assignments as a proxy for gender. This further muddies the picture of women’s incarceration.
While more data are needed, the data in this report lend focus and perspective to the policy reforms needed to end mass incarceration without leaving women behind.
This briefing uses the most recent data available on the number of people in various types of facilities and the most significant charge or conviction. Because not all types of data are collected each year, we sometimes had to combine differing data sets; for example, we applied the percentage distribution of offense types from the previous year to the current year’s total count data, since prison offense data lags by one year. To smooth out these differing levels of vintage and precision among the sources, we choose to round all figures in the graphic. This process may, however, result in various parts not adding up precisely to the total.
Civil commitment for sex-related crimes (At least 20 states and the federal government operate facilities for the purposes of detaining people convicted of sex-related crimes after their sentences are complete. These facilities and the confinement there are technically civil, but in reality are very like prisons. People under civil commitment are held in custody continuously from the time they start serving their sentence at a correctional facility through their confinement in the civil facility.): The Sex Offender Civil Commitment Programs Network (SOCCPN) conducts an annual survey, and the civil commitment data came from an email with SOCCPN President Shan Jumper, estimating that there were 7 women total, nationally (based on the SOCCPN 2019 Annual Survey, the last year that data was available broken down by gender). And according to the Common Questions about Civil Commitment as a Sexually Violent Person (Adopted by the ATSA and the Sex Offender Civil Commitment Programs Network Executive Boards of Directors on October 13, 2015), there are “a few women throughout the country who have been committed.”
It should be noted that while this chart only includes civil commitments related to sex-related crimes, thousands of people — including an unknown number of women — are civilly committed to psychiatric hospitals by courts in the course of criminal proceedings (for example, for evaluation or restoration of competency to stand trial). In our companion report, Mass Incarceration: The Whole Pie, we include the total number of these “forensic” civil commitments. Unfortunately, because we know of no way to estimate how many of these patients are women, this aspect of confinement is excluded from this report. And of course, many more people are civilly committed to psychiatric facilities for reasons wholly unrelated to criminal charges.
Several data definitions and clarifications may be helpful to researchers reusing this data in new ways:
This is most powerfully illustrated in our work comparing individual states’ incarceration rates to other countries. See also the underlying data. ↩
Even the available data that are disaggregated by sex are frustratingly limited, in that they typically only differentiate between “male” and “female,” ignoring the reality that the gender identities of confined people (and all people, for that matter) are not limited to this binary. The Bureau of Justice Statistics has begun to collect data on transgender and nonbinary individuals; for example, it reported data on a small sample of transgender individuals in state prisons in its 2016 Survey of Prison Inmates, which we analyzed. Meanwhile other non-government organizations such as the National Center for Transgender Equality, Black & Pink , and the Vera Institute of Justice are beginning to fill this data gap with large-scale surveys. The U.S. Trans Survey asks respondents about recent experiences with policing, incarceration, and immigration detention. Although currently incarcerated individuals are not included in the sample, 2% of the respondents to the 2015 survey were incarcerated in the previous year. Black & Pink and Vera’s 2024 report Advancing Transgender Justice is based on their 2019-2022 survey of 280 currently incarcerated transgender people in state prisons. This field of research has a long way to go before the data are consistently collected and reported by gender identity rather than an administrative categorization of “male” versus “female.” The use of the terms “women” and “girls” in this report reflect these present data limitations. For more on the limitations of gender-specific data and how the current data misclassifies trans men and women, see the section of this report The need for more data. ↩
The number of state prisons includes both “confinement” and “community based” facilities, and includes those authorized to hold “female only” and “both” men and women. The number of federal prisons reflects those designated as “female facilities” on the Bureau of Prisons website. The number of local jails is based on facilities (not jurisdictions), and assumes that all jails have some capacity to hold women (as of the 2019 Census of Jails, 2,728 jails had a female average daily population of 1 or more). Similarly, the number of Indian country jails includes all such facilities in 2022 (although only 62 facilities held women and girls at the time of the survey). The number of juvenile facilities is the total number of “out of home placement” facilities in 2020, not necessarily only those holding girls. Finally, the 80 immigration detention facilities include those holding both males and females. ↩
The Survey of Prison Inmates, last conducted in 2016 by the Bureau of Justice Statistics, provides the most recent nationally-representative, self-reported data about the people incarcerated in state and federal prisons, their backgrounds, and their experiences in prison. In our analysis of the data, we focused on state prisons, which account for a much greater share of the total incarcerated population, and wherever possible, we used the self-reported gender identity of respondents instead of the administrative sex variable, which was defined by whether the facility holding the respondent was a “women’s” or “men’s” prison. ↩
For example, our report The Gender Divide: Tracking Women’s State Prison Growth covers the effects of reform on women in prisons and the Vera Institute of Justice covers women in jails in their report, Overlooked: Women and Jails in an Era of Reform. ↩
Our research found that women who could not make bail had an annual median income of just $11,071 (in 2015 dollars). And among those women, Black women had a median annual income of only $9,083 (just 20% that of a white non-incarcerated man). When the typical $10,000 felony bail amounts to a full year’s income, it’s no wonder that women are stuck in jail awaiting trial. ↩
As we’ve written, other studies specifically looking at pretrial confinement confirm that women’s inability to afford bail has a particularly high impact on families. ↩
Moreover, while these data aren’t available nationally for local jails, we know that among people in state prisons, women report fewer prior arrests and incarcerations on average than men, suggesting that their criminal histories are less likely to contribute to a harsher sentence. ↩
A gender analysis of the Bureau of Justice Statistics’ Indicators of Mental Health Problems Reported by Prisoners and Jail Inmates 2011-12 report (the most recent available in this series) is available in our 2017 briefing New government report points to continuing mental health crisis in prisons and jails. And for anyone still unsure of the harms of jail, just look at the suicide rates in U.S. jails. ↩
This figure — 28% — is based on the limited offense data available by sex; therefore, it excludes any women held for violent offenses for the U.S. Marshals Service, military and territorial prisons, jails in Indian Country, or civil commitment facilities — the systems for which offense data by sex are not available. As a result, the calculated 28% is almost certainly an underestimate. ↩
The 2017 study based on the 2011-2012 National Inmate Survey (the most recent available) found that 42.1% of women in prison (state or federal) and 35.7% of women in jail are sexual minorities, compared to 9.3% of men in prison and 6.2% of men in jail. The study also confirmed that “[t]here is disproportionate incarceration, mistreatment, harsh punishment, and sexual victimization of sexual minority inmates.” Our more recent analysis of women in state prisons, which used data from the 2016 Survey of Prison Inmates, found that over 22% of women in state prisons report being lesbian or bisexual, compared to 2.5% of men who report being gay or bisexual. ↩
These percentages were calculated from Table 9 in Prisoners in 2022 – Statistical Tables. The nonspecific “other” category includes women reported as two or more races and other groups not broken out in the table. (The Bureau of Justice Statistics provides data on the racial and ethnic identities of women in prisons, but not jails.) By contrast, the total adult female population of the U.S. as of July 1, 2022 was 59% white, 13% Black, 19% Hispanic, 0.7% American Indian or Alaska Native, 6% Asian, and 3% other (2.4% were two or more races and 0.2% were Native Hawaiian or Pacific Islander), according to the Census Bureau’s Annual Estimates of the Resident Population by Sex, Race, and Hispanic Origin for the United States: April 1, 2020 to July 1, 2022. ↩
These disparities don’t stop at incarceration. Even once released, women are at greater risk for homelessness and unemployment, with Black women being hit hardest. Additionally, our 2019 report Policing Women: Race and gender disparities in police stops, searches, and use of force found significant racial disparities in arrest rates for women (but not men) in police-initiated traffic and street stops. We found that white women were about half as likely as white men to be arrested during a stop, but Black women were at least as likely as white men to be arrested. Black women were arrested in 4.4% of police-initiated stops, which was roughly three times as often as white women (1.5%), and twice as often as Hispanic women (2.2%). ↩
The 3,100 girls held in ORR custody are not the only ones confined due to their immigration status: U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) holds about 5,900 women in federal, local, and privately-contracted facilities. ↩
Most children in ORR custody are held in shelters. A small number are in secure juvenile facilities or in short-term or long-term foster care. With the exception of those in foster homes, these children are not free to come and go, and they do not participate in community life (e.g. they do not attend community schools). Their behaviors and interactions are monitored and recorded; any information gathered about them in ORR custody can be used against them later in immigration proceedings. And while the majority of these children came to the U.S. without a parent or legal guardian, those who were separated from parents at the border are, like ICE detainees, confined only because the U.S. has criminalized unauthorized immigration, even by persons lawfully seeking asylum. ↩
Data disaggregated by sex and race for the population confined in “out of home placement” by the juvenile justice system are available through the Easy Access to the Census of Juveniles in Residential Placement tool. The racial and ethnic distribution of all girls under age 18 in the U.S. were calculated from the Census Bureau’s Annual Estimates of the Resident Population by Sex, Age, Race, and Hispanic Origin for the United States: April 1, 2020 to July 1, 2022 (using data from 2021, when the juvenile facility data were last collected). It should be noted that juvenile facilities in Indian Country held an additional 60 American Indian or Alaska Native girls in 2022, not counted in the Census of Juveniles in Residential Placement. ↩
As of 2021 (the most recent data available), about 150 girls were held in adult jails and about 10 were held in state and/or federal prisons. This number does not include the 60 “juvenile” girls held by facilities in Indian Country; those girls are held in separate facilities from adults. ↩
Troublingly, state and federal facilities that hold women are disproportionately operated by private companies, which don’t have the same level of transparency and oversight as public facilities. According to Table 2 of the 2019 Census of State and Federal Adult Correctional Facilities, 47% of all facilities authorized to hold women (which includes those that hold only women and those that hold both men and women) are privately operated, compared to 23% of facilities authorized to hold men. Of the facilities authorized to hold only men or women, 29% of women’s facilities were private, compared to 15% of men’s facilities. ↩
According to The Prison Flow Project, the geographically large states of Arizona, Iowa, Kansas, Minnesota, Mississippi, Montana, North Dakota, Oregon, and Utah have just one state prison that holds women. Even in states with more than one women’s prison, the primary facility is often located far from major population centers. For example, Logan Correctional Center in Illinois held 70% of women in the state prison system in June, 2023, but it is located nearly 200 miles from Chicago, by far the most populous city in the state. ↩
In our analysis of the 2016 Survey of Prison Inmates dataset, only one-third (33%) of people in state prisons reported any visits with their minor children while in prison. When asked why their children hadn’t visited them in prison, parents most frequently blamed the distance from the prison (33%). ↩
It may seem like 2016 data about prison populations would be outdated by now, but because this survey takes a much deeper look into pre-incarceration life experiences, these data remain essential to understanding incarceration today. Moreover, the Bureau of Justice Statistics does not conduct this survey very often; before 2016, it was last fielded in 2004. ↩
The Bureau of Justice Statistics has published its own reports that include findings about people in both state and federal prisons; however, these reports are generally not as detailed as our own analysis. You can read our in-depth analyses of the data in the following reports and briefings: Beyond the Count: A deep dive into state prison populations, Chronic Punishment: The unmet health needs of people in state prisons, Both sides of the bars: How mass incarceration punishes families, The state prison experience: Too much drudgery, not enough opportunity, and What the Survey of Prison Inmates tells us about trans people in state prison. ↩
For more information about pregnancy and prenatal care in correctional settings, see the Pregnancy in Prison Statistics (PIPS) project, spearheaded by Dr. Carolyn Sufrin of the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine and Public Health. For an introduction to this work, see our discussion of some of the findings from that project. ↩
Data from the 2016-2018 Survey of Sexual Victimization show that while women made up just 10% of the combined prison and jail population at the time, they accounted for 27% of all victims of staff sexual misconduct and sexual harassment. (See table 10 of the Bureau of Justice Statistics’ 2023 report Substantiated Incidents of Sexual Victimization Reported by Adult Correctional Authorities, 2016-2018.) ↩
Marginalization, trauma, mental health problems, and self-medication with drugs and/or alcohol are recurrent themes in studies of incarcerated women. A previous Bureau of Justice Statistics study found that, of the women in state prisons who have mental health problems, three-quarters also met the criteria for substance dependence or abuse, and more than two-thirds (68%) had a history of physical or sexual abuse. Another study of women in jails found that 98% had experienced trauma in their lifetimes. For more context about women in prison, see the sidebar Context: What’s behind women’s prison growth? in our report The Gender Divide. ↩
Pretrial supervision is another form of correctional control, but one for which very little data exists. It is not included in the Bureau of Justice Statistics’ regular Correctional Populations reports, and is therefore excluded from the figures in this report as well. ↩
Probation also varies wildly between states. ↩
Reporting from the New York Times, Probation May Sound Light, but Punishments Can Land Hard, captures the typical cascading fees and conditions while following one woman’s navigation of probation. ↩
In 2019, approximately 2,450,379 women and girls were released from adult correctional facilities. According to data from the National Prisoner Statistics program, 71,655 women were released from state prisons and 4,738 were released from federal prisons in 2019. And according to data from the 2019 Census of Jails, about 2,373,986 women and girls were released from local jails nationwide that year. ↩
A 2020 law review article on the use of record clearance and expungement mechanisms notes that “several studies have found that women represent almost 50 percent of those seeking records clearance, as compared to approximately 25 percent of those arrested, due potentially in part to the desire of women to enter ‘caregiving’ fields such as nursing and geriatric care, whose licensing requirements often bar individuals with criminal records. This suggests that criminal records act as a particular impediment to women…” ↩
The Prison Policy Initiative would like to thank the MacArthur Foundation’s Safety and Justice Challenge for its support of this project. We also thank all of the donors, researchers, programmers and designers who helped the Prison Policy Initiative develop the Mass Incarceration: The Whole Pie series of reports.
Aleks Kajstura is Legal Director at the Prison Policy Initiative. She directs the organization’s campaign to end prison gerrymandering (the practice of using prison populations to distort democracy via redistricting). Aleks has also published several reports on women’s incarceration, including previous versions of Women’s Mass Incarceration: The Whole Pie, and States of Women’s Incarceration: The Global Context, which compares the rate of women’s incarceration in every U.S. state to 166 independent countries.
Wendy Sawyer is the Research Director at the Prison Policy Initiative. Along with helping direct the organization’s research priorities, Wendy is the author (or co-author) of several major reports, including Mass Incarceration: The Whole Pie, Beyond the Count: A deep dive into state prison populations, All Profit, No Risk: How the bail industry exploits the justice system and Arrest, Release, Repeat: How police and jails are misused to respond to social problems. Wendy also frequently publishes briefings on recent data releases, academic research, women’s incarceration, pretrial detention, probation, and more.
The non-profit, non-partisan Prison Policy Initiative was founded in 2001 to expose the broader harms of mass criminalization and spark advocacy campaigns to create a more just society. Through big-picture reports like Mass Incarceration: The Whole Pie, as well as in-depth reports on issues such as probation and parole, the organization helps the public more fully engage in criminal justice reform. The organization also launched, and continues to lead, the national fight to keep the prison system from exerting undue influence on the political process (a.k.a. prison gerrymandering).
This report is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.