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access to Social Service Review
b ra n d o n c . w e l sh
Northeastern University and Netherlands Institute
for the Study of Crime and Law Enforcement
a b s t r a c t At the same time as politicians were calling for and legislating “get
tough” policies that led to mass incarceration and increased rates of imprisonment
for juvenile offenders in the 1990s, many states and jurisdictions began adopting an
array of evidence-based therapeutic programs. Beginning with the Chicago Area
Project of the 1930s, we examine the historical development of delinquency pre-
vention in the context of broader shifts in the politics of crime and punishment. We
focus on the recent cases of Pennsylvania and Washington State in particular to il-
lustrate that prevention, beginning in the 1990s and continuing into the 2000s, is
now a formidable part of a mix of strategies for reducing delinquency. In spite of the
seeming transformation of the social and political context surrounding delinquency
prevention in the “get tough” era, we argue that there is more continuity than change
in the role of prevention in our society’s response to delinquency.
i n t r o d u c t io n
622
dozen tough new laws. We restored the death penalty. We toughened laws
against gun crimes while respecting the rights of gun owners. And we re-
defined the mission of the juvenile justice system, to protect the commu-
nity, not just the criminal” ðRidge 2001Þ. Rather than ending his discussion of
the crime policy issue by defending this general approach and suggest-
ing the need for similar policies in the future, the governor chose a different
theme: policies that offer youth therapeutic and community resources in
order to prevent juvenile delinquency and later adult crime. “We were
tough. But we also were compassionate. We began the Community Partner-
ship for Safe Children in 1995 with one goal: to prevent violence commit-
ted by and against our children. And it’s working . . . giving young people
a real alternative to violence—before the violence starts” ðRidge 2001Þ.
While the case of Pennsylvania is in some ways unique, in other ways
it highlights a national trend. At the same time as politicians were calling
for and legislating “get tough” policies that led to large increases in adult
imprisonment and to increasing numbers of youth ðpeople under age 18Þ
being punished in adult criminal court, many states and jurisdictions also
adopted an array of child-focused, developmental, evidence-based prevention
and treatment programs. Of course the country’s relatively recent spending
on delinquency prevention programs pales in comparison with its spending
on incarceration and delinquency prevention and is still a piecemeal work
in progress when compared to the across-the-board increases in imprison-
ment occurring in the adult system over the past 30 years ðBarker 2009;
Campbell and Schoenfeld 2013; Clear and Frost 2014Þ. Nevertheless, it is
noteworthy that prevention programs meant to target some of the early
root causes of juvenile crime were established at the same time as Amer-
ican society supposedly rejected this approach in favor of pure punishment.
This raises some important questions about the nature and scope of the
contemporary societal response to juvenile crime.
Our analysis of this mix-of-strategies approach focuses on the possibil-
ity that delinquency prevention is being adopted in ways that simply widen
the net of social control and justify giving harsher treatment to certain ju-
veniles who are seen as adult-like and culpable because of their age, offense,
or race ðCohen 1985; Fagan 2008Þ. As the case of Pennsylvania makes clear,
however, the punitive components of the mix-of-strategies approach of the
1990s, at least for juveniles, were never fully applied. Meanwhile, many
states, like Washington, continued to invest in evidence-based court treat-
ment and prevention programming. In the broader context of recent pro-
gressive efforts to return the focus of juvenile justice to the best interest of
the child, modern prevention is at the forefront of attempts to make our so-
cietal response to youth crime smarter and less harmful ðGreenwood 2006Þ.
t h e o r e t i c a l f r a m ew o r k
h i s t o r i c a l ov e rv i ew
Perhaps ironically, it was in the get tough era of the 1990s that delin-
quency prevention programs like Communities That Care ðCTCÞ became
more widespread and received increased funding.While the co-occurrence
t h e ch i c a g o a r e a p r o j e c t an d t h e or i g i n s
o f m od er n del i nq ue ncy p r ev en ti o n
1. According to Brandon Welsh and Rebecca Pfeffer ð2013, 537Þ, “The idea that crime preven-
tion could take place outside of the formal justice system may have already been considered
due to earlier influences, but the CAP was the first documented initiative in the United States
that measured crime prevention.”
crime’ was a label few politicians dared risk during the late 1970s through
the 1990s, and many supported policies they believed unwise or unjust
rather than risk losing an election.” The purposeful polarization of punish-
ment and prevention laid the groundwork for a massive and expensive crime
bill that was being deliberated.
The Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act of 1994 ðhere-
after, Violent Crime ActÞ authorized funding to put 100,000 new police
officers on the streets and to make 60 more federal crimes eligible for
the death penalty; it also devoted $10 billion for new prison construction.
Crime prevention programs ðin the broadest senseÞ were allocated a sizable
$6.1 billion, but most of this was used on existing federal programs like Head
Start in order to keep them afloat ðGest 2001Þ. From the beginning of the
bill’s debate on Capitol Hill and across the country, crime prevention—
especially programs for at-risk youth—was heavily criticized. Politicians
with a growing political thirst to get tough on juvenile and adult criminals
alike sought to paint prevention and its supporters as soft on crime. Pre-
vention was characterized as nothing more than pork-barreling—wasteful
spending of taxpayer dollars ðMendel 1995Þ. Meanwhile, liberals such as
Elliott Currie protested against the focus on punishment rather than pre-
vention: “Prisons, our most spectacularly failed social experiment, get a free
lunch; prevention gets the shaft, forced again to fight for every penny year
after year, even though we know it can work” ð1994, 121Þ.
The social and political context seemed to favor the get tough response
to the upsurge in violent youth crime and growing fear of crime in the late
1980s and early 1990s, and, as the debate surrounding the 1994 Violent
Crime Act illustrates, prevention and punishment seemed like opposed
choices. As the next section documents, it was perhaps somewhat ironic
that the community-based, social science–driven approach to delinquency
prevention embodied in the CAP began to expand and receive greater fund-
ing at the state and federal levels even as “tough on crime” laws were also
enacted.
p r e v e n t i o n a n d t h e m i x- o f - s t r ate g i e s ap p r o a c h
o f t h e 19 9 0 s an d 2 0 0 0 s
justice system” ðOJJDP 1996, iÞ. Previously, the State Formula Grant Pro-
grams administered under the JJDP Act funded state and local prevention
efforts. However, because there was no direct way for counties to request
funding from the federal government for prevention programming, for-
mula grant funding tended to go toward “paying the expensive ‘back-end’
costs of the juvenile justice system—enforcement and treatment—but were
not provided with an alternate source of Federal juvenile justice funds for
‘front-end’ prevention strategies” ðOJJDP 1996, 3Þ.
The renewed interest in prevention stemmed in part from OJJDP’s de-
velopment of a comprehensive strategy to deal with the upsurge in serious
youth crime, which drew heavily on criminological evidence on risk and pro-
tective factors for delinquency and growing evidence that certain preven-
tive and therapeutic programs worked to reduce youth crime ðKrisberg
2005Þ. The comprehensive strategy argues that, “As families and com-
munities are strengthened and more children at an early age are directed
toward healthy behaviors, fewer youth are expected to become serious ju-
venile offenders requiring expensive back-end intervention or confinement
resources” ðOJJDP 1996, 7–9Þ.
The Title V program addressed existing deficiencies by having states
and counties apply for Community Prevention Grants to fund a range of
prevention initiatives, such as parent training, early childhood education,
family support, school management, tutoring, and community mobiliza-
tion. Applicants were required to meet particular criteria that were based
on the Communities That Care design. First developed in the early 1990s by
David Hawkins and Richard Catalano ð1992Þ, CTC soon became a national
model for a community violence prevention system that partners with com-
munity leaders, local organizations, and social service agencies to assess lev-
els of risk and protection faced by the community’s young people and to
select and implement evidence-based programs to reduce elevated risk
factors for delinquency ðe.g., availability of drugs, family conflict, and aca-
demic failureÞ and enhance protective factors. The intervention techniques
are tailored to the needs of each particular community. Under this man-
tle, all recipients had to convene a prevention policy board from various so-
cial service agencies and community members and leaders. Recipients also
had to operate community boards, which employed parents and commu-
nity members in the task of figuring out what risk factors were affecting
the community and should be the target of intervention. A good example
of model OJJDP programming was the Bond Neighborhood Initiative in
Tallahassee:
The Prevention Policy Board held community forums to discuss local con-
ditions and review risk-factor data. . . . Momentum created by the risk-
assessment forums has helped the Neighborhood Initiative establish a core
of 350 volunteers ready to help implement program activities. In one meet-
ing, a minister offered to “walk the streets at night if that is what it takes
to make this happen.” Turning to their volunteers, they have begun a program
that will use professional family and marriage therapists to oversee a group of
student therapists ðall will be unpaidÞ while they provide counseling to
low-income families in the community and at the same time earn hours of
practical experience they need to graduate. ðOJJDP 1996, 56Þ
2. Other sources of federal funding, such as the Juvenile Accountability Incentive Block
Grant Program ðJAIBGÞ, may also have funded certain prevention programs. However,
JAIBG was primarily used to fund court-based interventions with delinquent youth, though
some money was allocated to restorative justice-oriented programming involving neighbor-
hood alliances and community service projects for at-risk youth ðOJJDP 1997; Griffin 1999Þ.
and led to more youth being sentenced to life without parole ðTorbet et al.
1996Þ.
The debates over what to do about increases in youth violence appear
to have been influenced by more adaptive-minded lobby groups represent-
ing juvenile court officials and special commissions composed of experts
who based their decisions on research and actual court experience, not
simply on political factors ðTorbet et al. 1996Þ. For example, in Pennsylva-
nia, Connecticut, Florida, Minnesota, and Tennessee, these groups were
involved in the drafting of legislation and helped to moderate the expres-
sive, punitive response to youth crime, confining these policies to partic-
ular groups while reducing their purview. Certain states were much more
focused on punishment than anything else ðe.g., Texas and New YorkÞ, but
others, at least initially, developed versions of a mix of strategies more con-
sistent with the OJJDP comprehensive strategy’s focus on prevention and
early intervention programs for first-time and minor offenders, a continuum
of intermediate sanctions and services for moderate offenders, and longer
prison sentences for a small group of serious and violent offenders.
The National Center for Juvenile Justice ðNCJJÞ, which put together
probably the most comprehensive analysis of juvenile justice legislative en-
actments in the mid-1990s, identified nine states “that appeared more pos-
itive, took a long-term view and went beyond only retributive responses that
increased punishment/accountability for juveniles who commit violent or
other serious crimes” ðTorbet et al. 1996, 53Þ. Among these is Arkansas,
which convened a Special Session on Juvenile Crime that made it easier
for prosecutors to direct file 14- and 15-year-old youth offenders as adults.
While talk of punishment dominated the special session, the governor also
committed money to develop a system of coordinated community-based pre-
vention, enacted a $9 million community work and youth recreation bill,
and funded the expansion of therapeutic group homes and independent
living programs.
Some states like Minnesota, Tennessee, and New Mexico specifically af-
firmed the difference between the juvenile and adult criminal justice systems
and advocated preserving and strengthening a system geared toward indi-
vidualized treatment for the majority of youth. Meanwhile, they targeted
serious and violent offenders, for whom they felt the current system was
not working, for longer prison sentences. In this context, prevention was
considered to be an alternative to juvenile justice as usual. Minnesota thus
affirmed that, “Juvenile justice interventions are not the solution to the
increase in serious juvenile crime; rather, the solution lies in the strengthen-
ing of families and communities and the implementation of prevention and
early intervention programs” ðTorbet et al. 1996, 55Þ.
In 1995, a year of frequent legislative activity surrounding youth crime,
17 states passed laws making it easier to transfer youth to adult court,
12 states opened up juvenile records to the public, 7 states passed sentenc-
ing enhancement laws for gang members, and 13 states passed laws that
specifically addressed delinquency prevention ðLyons 1995Þ. Thus, while pu-
nitive responses received more public attention, in certain states, invest-
ment in prevention was a key component of policy reforms in the 1990s.
Rather than giving rise to a polarization between prevention and punish-
ment, the 1990s saw increased investment at both the federal and state lev-
els in both prevention-based strategies geared toward rooting out the causes
of crime and punishment-based approaches for juveniles who, because of
their offenses and other factors, were categorized as adults. Supported in
part by state and federal funding, prevention programs received consider-
able investment, especially in certain states such as Pennsylvania and Wash-
ington. The next section focuses on these two states to examine the evolu-
tion of the mix of strategies approach up until the present era.
While Cohen predicted that, with investment in prevention and
community-based alternatives, “the end result can only be increased in-
tervention” ð1985, 132Þ, in fact, the opposite has occurred in an important
sense: juvenile justice and youth incarceration rates have been on the de-
cline ðAbrams 2013Þ. Rather than inclusionary measures simply reinforc-
ing the exclusionary, punitive responses, in retrospect it appears that the
exclusionary measures such as automatic transfer laws may have also pro-
vided political cover for systematic efforts to adapt the juvenile court’s child-
saving mission to an era of declining confidence in traditional court-based
intervention. The cases of prevention in Pennsylvania and Washington State
highlight growing bifurcation between juvenile and adult criminal justice
systems and the proliferation of new forms of social science–informed and
community-based expertise in juvenile justice.
held accountable even when they are juveniles. And now if you commit an
adult crime in Pennsylvania, you will do adult time in Pennsylvania.” Later
in the speech, he explained the logic behind increased funding for preven-
tion efforts: “To be successful, preventive measures cannot be the prior-
ity of just elected officials or a few citizens. We must engage the entire com-
munity. Together we will attack the root causes: teen pregnancy; child abuse
and neglect; drug and alcohol addiction; domestic violence; truancy; drugs
and weapons in our schools and neighborhoods” ðCommonwealth of Penn-
sylvania 1995b, 548–49Þ. Ridge’s policy focus on softer solutions such as pre-
vention for youth deemed still redeemable and the ramping up of a purely
punitive approach for those whose criminal behavior made them seem
adult-like and fully culpable might have defined Pennsylvania’s response to
youth crime had this vision of social control ðas Cohen terms it in the title
of his bookÞ been straightforwardly translated into practice ðCohen 1985Þ.
One of Governor Ridge’s first acts in office was to convene a Special
Session on Crime in 1995. In part as a result of policies developed in the
Special Session on Crime—such as mandatory minimum sentences for drug
and gun offenses—Pennsylvania saw a 52 percent increase in overall incar-
ceration between 1997 and 2009 ðPennsylvania Commission on Sentenc-
ing 2009Þ. Between 2000 and 2008, Pennsylvania’s increase in incarcera-
tion ðboth federal and state prisonersÞ was more than twice that of the rest
of the country ðSabol, West, and Cooper 2009Þ. Pennsylvania’s growing in-
carceration rate, and the resulting prison overcrowding, is an object of
lobbying efforts by anti–mass incarceration groups and has resulted in a
situation that state politicians on both sides of the aisle acknowledge is un-
tenable ðCommonwealth Foundation 2009Þ.
In the Special Session on Crime, the legislature passed Act 33, which
mandated that youth who were ages 15 and over and had committed a vio-
lent crime with a firearm would now be tried as adults.3 The new transfer
law was the public face of the legislative response to the outbreak of youth
violence in the early 1990s and calls to get tough on what was supposedly
a new generation of superpredators ðDiIulio 1995Þ. Pennsylvania State
3. See http://www.ncjj.org/Publication/State-Juvenile-Justice-Profile-Pennsylvania.aspx.
In addition, Act 33 covered those who were age 14 and over and charged with serious and
violent crimes who also had prior adjucations for serious violent crimes. However, in practice,
there were very few cases that met these criteria ðaccording to conversations with NCJJ
researchers and court officialsÞ.
clusion legislation in 1996 was to retain in criminal court those cases that
the juvenile court would have judicially waived had it been given the op-
portunity” ðSnyder et al. 2000, 38Þ.
While the new transfer provisions of Act 33 received the most media
attention, the law also mandated that Balanced and Restorative Justice
ðBARJÞ would be the new mission statement of the Pennsylvania juvenile
court. The state’s previous legislatively defined purpose clause for juvenile
justice, which emphasized the child’s “treatment, supervision, rehabilita-
tion and welfare,” was now to be interpreted in ways that would further
“the protection of the community, the imposition of accountability for of-
fenses committed and the development of competencies to enable chil-
dren to become productive and responsible members of the community”
ðGriffin 2006, 1Þ. While Ridge publicly declared that “we redefined the
mission of the juvenile justice system, to protect the community, not just
the criminal” ðRidge 2001, 2Þ, in practice, he left the sculpting and imple-
mentation of the new mission statement almost fully up to advisory agen-
cies such as the Juvenile Court Judges’ Commission ðJCJCÞ, the Pennsyl-
vania Council for Crime and Delinquency ðPCCDÞ, and the Pennsylvania
Council of Chief Probation Officers ðPACJOÞ.
These agencies interpreted and applied BARJ in terms of restorative
justice principles by investing in family-group conferences, community ser-
vice, paying restitution, and other programming that had youth make
amends to victims ðBazemore and Umbreit 1997Þ. Likewise, under BARJ’s
provision for court partnerships with the community, a number of counties
developed community-based alternatives to incarceration for delinquent
youth ðMaloney, Romig, and Armstrong 1988; Kurlychek 1998; DeAngelo
2005Þ.
When Governor Ridge came into office, one of the first things he did
was to create the Community Partnership for Safe Children ðChildren’s Part-
nershipÞ, a policy effort for reducing violence committed by and against
children. His wife, Michele, the former head librarian at the Erie Public
Library, was put in charge of this multipronged antiviolence initiative. The
Children Partnership’s prevention efforts largely revolved around spreading
and implementing the Communities That Care program ðFagan et al. 2011Þ.
Between 1995 and 1999, Ridge allocated $7.5 million to CTC. By 2001, there
were 107 CTC sites in 55 counties ðout of a total of 67 countiesÞ, and 21 new
CTC sites were established later that year. In total, his administration spent
was hi ng t o n s tate
rising juvenile violent crime rates in the early 1990s and declining faith
in the juvenile court by passing legislation that led to harsher treatment
for the most serious offenders and by including provisions for punishing a
greater number of youth in the adult criminal justice system ðsee Garland
2001Þ. The Youth Violence Reduction Act of 1994 and the Community
Juvenile Accountability Act of 1997 led to an initial large spike in the mid-
to-late 1990s in the number of juveniles being charged as adults, with a
peak of over 500 cases transferred in 1998, but this number had gone
down by the early 2000s. Overall, between 1992 and 2002, the number
of youth being treated as adults went from 200 to 300. In sum, the large
initial effect of the automatic transfer laws was short-lived, and this por-
tion of the 1994 and 1997 legislation affected a relatively small number of
cases ðBarnoski 2003Þ. These bills initiated the state’s support of a grow-
ing range of therapeutic and prevention-oriented programs that research
showed might work to reduce delinquency ðLieb, Fish, and Crosby 1994;
Barnoski 1999Þ.
In the late 1990s, the state legislature commissioned the Washington
State Institute for Public Policy ðWSIPPÞ, the nonpartisan research arm of
the legislature, to assess the effectiveness and economic efficiency of a wide
range of crime prevention and criminal justice programs with the aim to
“identify interventions that reduce crime and lower total costs to taxpayers
and crime victims” ðAos, Barnoski, and Lieb 1998, 1Þ. To do so, the WSIPP
developed a comprehensive cost-benefit model along the lines of a bottom-
line financial analysis, because it considered analyzing the effectiveness of
crime interventions to be parallel to the work of investors who study rates
of return on financial investments ðDrake, Aos, and Miller 2009Þ. The re-
search found that a number of programs were worthwhile, and the WSIPP
recommended that the state pilot two evidence-based programs initially:
Functional Family Therapy ðFFTÞ and Aggression Replacement Therapy
ðART; Barnoski 1999Þ.4 The list of state-funded programs soon expanded
to include a wider range of programs in the 2000s, including early child-
hood education for low-income children and community- and home-based
treatment for serious and violent juvenile offenders ðDrake et al. 2009Þ.
4. This was no small investment, as the legislature initially planned to serve a substan-
tial number of clients; 271 youth were expected in the FFT program ðserved by 14 courtsÞ,
and 743 youth were expected in ART ðserved by 23 courtsÞ within 6 months of their adoption
ðBarnoski 1999Þ.
tasked with the development of quality assurance plans for all evidence-
based programs operating in the state ðDrake 2008Þ. According to the Func-
tional Family Therapy ðFFTÞ plan, “Ensuring model fidelity in a commu-
nity based system of care requires an ongoing systematic system of both
quality assurance and quality improvement” ðCJAA Committee 2010, 1Þ.
As David Garland ð2001, 114Þ argues, the “professionalization and the
rationalization of justice” became core goals of criminal justice officials un-
der conditions of great doubt about the ability of the courts to rehabilitate
through traditional means and a need to justify officials’ power and discre-
tion to the general public. Consistent with this notion, Washington’s experi-
ment with evidence-based crime policy was fundamentally oriented around
cost-cutting and creating a more efficient justice system ðWelsh and Far-
rington 2012Þ. Through issuing comprehensive evaluation reports, WSIPP
provided a systematic analytical model for deciding what was a good return
on their crime fighting dollars ðDrake et al. 2009Þ.
While evaluation research suggests that the state’s reductions in ju-
venile crime generated by evidence-based programs have been modest
ðgenerally between 5 and 15 percentÞ, there is now a growing body of re-
search indicating that certain programs are highly cost beneficial, produc-
ing substantial savings to taxpayers, the government, and potential crime
victims, and provide a far more efficient use of resources than prison ðLee
et al. 2012Þ. As noted above, the comprehensive cost-benefit model devel-
oped by the WSIPP used only the highest-quality evaluation studies. Pre-
vention has played a key role in this more rationalized approach to crime
reduction.
discussion
Delinquency prevention programming has expanded over the last two and
a half decades, even during the get-tough era of the 1990s. We are presently
in a new era of declining youth crime and imprisonment rates and state ju-
venile justice reforms with a greater concern for the best interest of the
child ðKrisberg et al. 2010; Abrams 2013Þ. It is not surprising that, in the
current climate, prevention and evidence-based therapeutic programming
more generally receive greater interest and at least the appearance of greater
investment. Nevertheless, as our analysis shows, this greater investment
in prevention at the federal level and, in many states and jurisdictions, be-
gan during the 1990s—at the same time when almost every state legislature
juvenile sex offender registration laws proliferated in the 2000s, and 1990s
laws making juvenile records easier to access remain on the books ðSaha
Shah, Fine, and Gullen 2014; Zimring and Tanenhaus 2014Þ. Youth are still
far too often confined in large and crowded facilities. and a large number
experience solitary confinement ðACLU 2014Þ.While there has been a sus-
tained movement in the direction of smaller, more home-like facilities, these
reforms have made much more headway in some states than in others
ðMiller 1991; OJJDP 2010; Krisberg 2011Þ.5 Likewise, a disproportionate
number of minority youth come into contact with the justice system, and
this has continued in spite of recent policy reforms and declining youth
crime rates ðSentencing Project 2014; Cox 2015Þ. Strikingly, however, dur-
ing an era in which rates of adult imprisonment skyrocketed, juvenile jus-
tice largely did not move in this purely punitive direction.
Drawing on Cohen’s theoretical framework, one might argue that the
softer and inclusionary aspects of juvenile justice actually serve to legiti-
mate an expressive, pure punishment approach for adults and those ðrela-
tively fewÞ juveniles who are considered to be adult-like. While this inter-
pretation deserves consideration in future empirical analysis of responses
to juvenile and adult crime, it probably overstates the degree of coordina-
tion and intentionality of political actors and policy decision makers. It
appears that politicians seeking to do something to show that they were
tough on youth crime encountered, and accepted to some degree, the in-
stitutional legacy of a separate juvenile justice system focused on the child’s
best interest. As the case of Pennsylvania illustrates, youth expert com-
missions, reform lobby groups, court officials, and social scientists appear
to have partially tamed the effect of get tough reforms and helped move
juvenile justice policy in a more productive direction. As Zimring argues
ð2002Þ, having a separate juvenile justice system continues to serve a diver-
sionary role, protecting youth from the excesses of societal punitiveness in
a generally punitive era.
While juvenile justice in the 1990s and 2000s continued to shield youth
from punitiveness and give substantial discretion to youth experts, we be-
lieve that the 1990s and 2000s also saw important changes in the content
and nature of that expertise. This is reflected in the simultaneous spread
5. In 2010, 42 percent of incarcerated youth were held in facilities that had a capacity
for 100 or more wards, and 46 percent of youth removed from their homes were held in
locked, jail-like facilities ðOJJDP 2010Þ.
relatively short-lived and did not achieve the same level of success as CAP,
which continues to this day. Greater use of prevention and diversion also
figured heavily in the recommendations of the President’s Commission on
Law Enforcement and the Administration of Justice ð1967Þ and as a com-
ponent of President Johnson’s Great Society agenda. However, the recom-
mendations of the Commission’s report failed to achieve any real traction
with policy makers ðMorris 1968Þ.
By contrast, the BARJ and evidence-based movements, while supported
to some degree at the federal level, also found backing among state and local
court officials and a whole host of nonprofit organizations, foundations, and
research think tanks that promote and fund new innovations ðGreenwood
2006; MacArthur Foundation 2006Þ. Given the decentralized nature of
American juvenile justice ðBishop 2006Þ, this bottom-up approach involv-
ing a variety of organizations and actors is more likely to be successful at
spreading CTC-like programming than a top-down strategy. Likewise,
tying prevention to the movement to revise court-based treatment may
make prevention more appealing and urgent than if prevention alone were
the main goals of reformers. That said, given the desire of policy makers to
do something right away to respond to juvenile crime and the short-term
focus on attaining immediate results, it is also possible that prevention
programs will be placed on the back burner and will mainly serve as lip
service for court-based responses to delinquency. While the cases of Penn-
sylvania and Washington suggest that prevention has the potential to per-
form an important role in contemporary policy, it is unclear exactly what
role prevention currently plays or will play at the state level in the mix of
strategies approach to delinquency reduction.
We also wonder whether policy makers will lump prevention programs
in with court-based responses to delinquency, and as a result, whether de-
linquency prevention will begin to lose its distinctive and innovative qual-
ities. As Brandon Welsh and Rebecca Pfeffer ð2013Þ point out, a view of
prevention that includes policies geared toward short-term community pro-
tection and retribution fails to acknowledge prevention’s unique focus
on addressing risk factors before the occurrence of serious delinquency.
While there is value in prevention and court-based approaches—both can
work to reduce later delinquency—this view mutes the community-focused
aspect of prevention and the corresponding concerns about the limita-
tions and potential for harm of even the most well-designed court-based
programs.
c o n c lu s i o n
note
Michael B. Schlossman is an assistant professor in the Department of Sociology at William
Paterson University. He is interested in the history and sociology of punishment, and his current
research examines how the contemporary juvenile justice system responded to increases in
violent youth crime and demands for more punitive crime policies.
Brandon C. Welsh is a professor in the School of Criminology and Criminal Justice at North-
eastern University and is the Royal Netherlands Academy of Arts and Sciences Visiting Profes-
sor and Senior Research Fellow at the Netherlands Institute for the Study of Crime and Law
Enforcement in Amsterdam. His research interests include the prevention of delinquency
and crime and evidence-based social policy. His latest book is Experimental Criminology: Pros-
pects for Advancing Science and Public Policy ðCambridge University Press, 2013Þ.
We are grateful to the journal editor and the anonymous reviewers for their insightful com-
ments. We would also like to thank the Friday Writing Group at William Paterson University
for their helpful feedback on an earlier draft of this article.
references
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