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The costs of youth incarceration

This isn't a standard policy debate; it's a collision between two deeply held convictions about how to save young lives. Glenn Loury presents a provocative, uncomfortable question: Could more prison time actually be the path to redemption for some youth? The piece forces us to confront the failure of current diversion programs while weighing them against the brutal reality of our correctional system. In an era of rising violence and crumbling institutions, this exchange offers a rare, unvarnished look at the stakes of juvenile justice.

The Reluctant Case for Confinement

Loury introduces the debate by highlighting an essay from economist Robert Cherry, who argues that the liberal consensus on youth justice has hit a wall. Cherry contends that "youth diversion programs targeting at-risk boys and young men... have largely failed," and that laws designed to keep minors out of adult facilities, such as "Raise the Age," have not solved the underlying issues of recidivism and unemployment. The core of Cherry's argument, as Loury frames it, is a grim pragmatism: if the community cannot provide structure, the state must, even if that structure is a prison cell. Cherry suggests that "prisons often provide youthful offenders with skills and discipline they can use after release," a claim that sounds counterintuitive to many but is presented as a necessary evil in the absence of better options.

The costs of youth incarceration

Loury treats this not as a political stunt but as a sincere, albeit alarming, intervention from a scholar committed to black communities. He notes that Cherry recommends this path only "reluctantly," acknowledging the moral weight of the proposal. This framing is crucial; it prevents the argument from being dismissed as mere toughness and forces the reader to consider the possibility that the current "soft on crime" approach is actively harming the very people it aims to help. Critics might note that Cherry's optimism about prison rehabilitation ignores the systemic underfunding of educational programs within the very facilities he praises, but the argument's power lies in its desperation.

"Cherry's contention that incarceration prepares young men for productive lives is contrary to both the research and our collective 80 years of experience working with young people."

The Human Cost of Institutionalization

To counter Cherry's economic argument, Vincent Schiraldi and Lael Chester bring the debate down from the abstract to the visceral. They do not argue with statistics alone; they anchor their rebuttal in the tragedy of Kalief Browder, a teenager who spent over 1,000 days in Rikers Island, 700 of them in solitary confinement, before taking his own life after his charges were dropped. Their point is stark: the system is not just ineffective; it is lethal. They highlight that despite a decade of federal court monitoring and spending over $550,000 per inmate annually, violence at Rikers has worsened, with a dozen deaths already this year.

Schiraldi and Chester argue that the very nature of incarceration robs young people of the "normalized challenges" necessary for maturation. Citing a study by Aizur and Doyle, they demonstrate that institutionalized youth are far less likely to finish high school and far more likely to return to prison. The data suggests that prison doesn't build human capital; it destroys it. "Incarceration can negatively influence human capital and increase the likelihood of future criminal activity," they write, explaining that the environment fosters "criminal capital" while stripping away the social connections needed for employment. This evidence directly challenges Cherry's assertion that prison imposes demands similar to ordinary jobs, suggesting instead that it imposes a trauma that hinders future employability.

The argument extends to the physical safety of these youths. A 2023 cohort study cited by the authors found that being incarcerated in an adult facility before age 18 was associated with a 33% increase in the risk of mortality between ages 18 and 39. As Schiraldi and Chester bluntly state, "Being incarcerated as an adult can literally kill you." This is not just a policy disagreement; it is a life-or-death calculation where the data overwhelmingly favors community-based interventions over confinement.

The Paradox of Declining Crime

Perhaps the most compelling part of the rebuttal is the historical context. Schiraldi and Chester point out that over the last two decades, the U.S. has seen a massive decline in youth incarceration—a 75% drop in juvenile facilities and an 84% drop in adult confinement for youth—yet crime has not surged. In fact, youth crime fell by 80% from 1996 to 2020. This data directly contradicts the fear that reducing prison populations leads to chaos. "If those suggesting that more incarceration equals more safety... were correct, these data and evolving practices should spell disaster," the authors argue. Instead, jurisdictions are seeing success with "Emerging Adult Justice" models that focus on brain development and positive incentives rather than punishment.

Cherry's reply, however, attempts to dismiss these findings as outdated or irrelevant to his specific demographic of repeat offenders. He argues that the rise in violence at places like Rikers is due to a shift in the population toward violent felons, not a failure of the system itself. He claims that the studies cited by Schiraldi and Chester are "25 years old" and do not reflect recent rehabilitation efforts. This is a critical pivot point in the debate: Cherry is betting on a modernized, rehabilitative prison model that Schiraldi and Chester argue simply does not exist in practice. Cherry insists that "prisons no longer have the same downside they had in the past," a claim that stands in stark contrast to the ongoing court receiverships in Los Angeles and Mississippi where conditions continue to deteriorate despite decades of oversight.

"We've seen this movie before, and should all be very, very careful before endorsing a sequel, especially during these challenging and divisive times."

Bottom Line

The strongest part of this exchange is its refusal to offer easy answers; both sides acknowledge the failure of the current system but propose diametrically opposed solutions. The argument's greatest vulnerability, however, lies in Cherry's reliance on a theoretical rehabilitation model that the data from Schiraldi and Chester suggests is currently nonexistent in American prisons. Until the gap between the promise of rehabilitation and the reality of violence is closed, the human cost of incarceration remains too high to ignore.

"Being incarcerated as an adult can literally kill you."

The debate ultimately hinges on whether we believe the prison system can be fixed from within or if it is fundamentally broken. For now, the evidence of rising mortality and recidivism suggests that the path forward lies not in more cages, but in the difficult work of building community-based alternatives that actually work.

Deep Dives

Explore these related deep dives:

  • Kalief Browder

    The article opens with Browder's tragic case as a central example of youth incarceration's failures. His story became a national symbol of criminal justice reform, and understanding the full details of his case provides essential context for the debate.

  • Rikers Island

    Rikers is discussed extensively as an example of failed incarceration. Understanding its history, notorious conditions, and the ongoing political battles over its closure provides crucial context for the article's arguments about institutional failure.

  • Juvenile delinquency

    The article debates competing theories about how to handle youth offenders. Understanding the historical and sociological frameworks around juvenile delinquency—including how different societies have approached it—enriches the reader's understanding of this policy debate.

Sources

The costs of youth incarceration

by Glenn Loury · Glenn Loury · Read full article

Over the summer, I published my friend Robert Cherry’s essay “More, not Less, Prison May Improve the Life Chances for Youthful Offenders.” I thought it was an incisive and rather alarming intervention in debates about crime reduction and recidivism. Robert is a distinguished economist, a professor emeritus at Brooklyn College and an adjunct fellow at the American Enterprise Institute, and I’ve long known him to be sincerely committed to coming up with practical solutions to problems affecting black communities. So I take his argument very seriously.

Youth diversion programs targeting at-risk boys and young men, Robert argues, have largely failed. So have “Raise the Age” laws that keep even those youthful offenders convicted of serious crimes out of prison. Youth offending, recidivism, and long-term unemployment remain tenacious problems. Rather than reducing or eliminating prison sentences for young offenders, Robert says, we should look to prisons as effective vehicles for rehabilitation. He argues that prison often provides youthful offenders with skills and discipline they can use after release, as well as services to help them reenter society. It’s a forceful case for remedies that the author himself recommends only “reluctantly,” amid what he sees as an absence of better solutions.

Since I published the essay, I’ve been casting around for responses to this provocative take on youth offending. I finally found some takers: Vincent Schiraldi and Lael Chester, who have decades of experience between them working with young offenders. They provide a vigorous rebuttal to Cherry’s recommendations, arguing that prison produces dismal outcome for incarcerated youths. Cherry’s reply to their rebuttal is below their essay.

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The Costs of Youth Incarceration: A Response to Dr. Robert Cherry.

By Vincent Schiraldi and Lael Chester

Sixteen-year-old Kalief Browder is accused of stealing a backpack and spends over 1,000 days in New York City’s notorious Rikers Island jail, 700 of them in solitary confinement. While there, he is repeatedly assaulted by other youth and staff alike. Two years after his case is dismissed and he is released, he takes his own life.

That same year, 2015, city officials entered into a consent decree over violence in Rikers, empowering a judge to monitor and ...