Inmates’ Families Pay Heavy Price for Staying in Touch

There’s an old slogan that sums up the power of a simple phone call: Long distance, the saying goes, is the next best thing to being there.

For relatives of the incarcerated, this rings especially true. The phone is often the only way for children to maintain bonds with mothers, or for a wife to offer encouragement to an imprisoned spouse.

In California, however, staying in touch is an expensive proposition for inmates’ families. Under a system that benefits state government to the tune of $35 million a year, relatives of those in prison pay phone costs far higher than most others. The main reason: The only way to dial out from behind bars is by calling collect.

Under contracts with the state, two companies provide phone service for inmates in adult prisons and California Youth Authority facilities. For exclusive rights to that market--which yielded about $85 million in revenue last year--the companies pay a handsome commission to the state.

After years of pressure, California officials this month signed contracts that will cut phone rates by 25% for most inmates’ calls--and also trim the annual commission the government pulls in.

State officials characterize the new agreements as a substantial improvement for relatives of California’s 158,000 prisoners. But critics remain troubled by two issues: Inmates must still dial collect, and the state will continue to receive a cut of the proceeds.

State Sen. Richard Polanco (D-Los Angeles) says that by taking the commission, the state is improperly profiting off families whose only crime is having a relative serving time.

“This is profiteering on the backs of the innocent,” Polanco said. “It is just wrong to have a state policy that gouges the families of inmates.”

Byron Tucker, a spokesman for Gov. Gray Davis, disagrees. He called the state’s commission on the calls “revenue that California is receiving rightfully for the services being provided.”

Today, Polanco will convene a joint legislative hearing on the controversy in Los Angeles. African American churches from throughout Southern California are busing in members--as many as 1,000 are expected--to protest the policy. Other groups that work on behalf of prisoners also are sending emissaries.

The Rev. Eugene Williams, director of a network of 45 congregations in Los Angeles, calls the phone rates the single most pressing economic issue for relatives of the incarcerated.

“Far too many of our members are having to decide whether they’re going to accept collect calls from loved ones who are incarcerated or whether they are going to pay the rent,” he said.

Williams says the rate cuts will help. But he agrees with Polanco that it is ethically wrong for the state to get a commission from the calls, a practice in effect for more than a decade.

In the past, that share was a percentage of revenues from the calls--most recently, about 40 cents of every dollar. In 1998, the state earned $16 million from calls. By last year, its cut had soared to about $35 million.

Other states also reap commissions on inmate calls, but some put the income into programs that benefit prisoners or their families. California funnels it into the general fund, the government’s main pool of money.

Among those having a tough time with the charges is Rochelle Adams, a legal assistant and single mother of two.

Last year, Adams had a brother and a close friend in prison. Trying to keep up their spirits, she accepted their frequent collect calls at her home in Downey. Then she got her phone bill. It was $800.

Adams was unable to pay the bill by the deadline, so her phone was disconnected. For two months, she ran to a pay phone to make calls and scrimped to pay off the debt.

She said she asked her brother and friend to call at night, but that didn’t help because WorldCom does not lower rates for off-peak times. In addition to the cost per minute, she paid a WorldCom surcharge--about $3.50--each time a call was placed.

Studies on recidivism have shown that prisoners who remain in close contact with their families are less likely to commit new offenses after being freed. Indeed, the state Board of Prison Terms says family support is one of its criteria for deciding whether an inmate is suitable for parole.

“We certainly see the benefit when inmates maintain ties with their families,” said Ernie Van Sant, deputy director for facility management in the Department of Corrections. Because the state’s prisons are mostly in remote places, visiting in person is difficult for many families. That leaves the telephone.

For security reasons, phones in the state’s 33 prisons--there are about 90 per facility--and the Youth Authority permit only collect calls. Inmates must use either WorldCom, which has held the contract to serve most prisons since the early 1990s, or Verizon.

A WorldCom spokeswoman said the cost of a collect call from a prison ranges from 15 cents to 89 cents per minute, depending on how far away the recipient lives. Calling collect outside prison, she said, ranges from 10 cents to 80 cents a minute.

But Californians not behind bars have a wide variety of choices, including calling cards that can bring long-distance charges to as low as five cents a minute. Those in prison, critics of the system say, are truly a captive market.

Responding to complaints from inmates’ families, lawmakers have for years pushed the administration to find a way to make calling cheaper. In 2000, the Legislature gave bipartisan approval to a bill that would have required the state to negotiate phone contracts with the goal of providing the lowest rates possible, rather than the goal of maximizing its economic return. Davis vetoed it.

Administration officials acknowledge, however, that the calling costs are too high. That’s why they have signed new, three-year contracts with WorldCom and Verizon that cut rates by 25% for prisons and by 78% in juvenile lockups. Under the agreements, the average 11-minute call from a prison to a home outside the immediate area will fall from $6.30 to $5.08, officials said.

The governor’s office characterized the drop as a boon for inmates’ families. But Polanco and others are demanding that the state forgo its commission on the $85 million in revenue the calls generate each year.

The new contracts do reduce that commission, capping it at $26 million a year, plus another $1 million to cover the state’s administrative costs. Eliminating it, some say, could persuade WorldCom to further cut its rates.

Lawmakers also have argued that today’s technology should enable the state to do away with collect calling and switch to a direct-dial system, allowing for a dramatic dip in costs.

State officials have agreed to move toward the switch. But modernizing the system will take at least three years, officials say.