Kick Ass: Selected Columns of Carl Hiaasen

Worse, the convoluted new sentencing guidelines don't accomplish what tough-talking lawmakers promised. "Nobody is doing more time," says Assistant State Attorney Michael Band. "It's basically a shell game. Passing the buck."

It's true. Some violent crimes that once earned a trip upstate no longer do: aggravated assault, strong-arm robbery, even battery on a police officer while possessing a gun. Instead of riding a prison bus to Starke, some offenders will serve no more than 364 days in a county jail.

That's because the Legislature is too gutless to raise taxes to build enough new prisons. Under pressure to appear alarmed about crime, lawmakers jiggle a few numbers and call it sentencing reform.

Unfortunately, there are still not enough cells for the most dangerous criminals. "The reality of it is," says Band, "there's no space out there."

Meanwhile, a prosecutor with 100-odd felony cases will spend untold extra hours struggling through the math maze of the new law. When Assistant State Attorney Monica Hofheinz briefed her colleagues on the sentencing changes, she instructed them to bring a calculator and a pencil "with a LARGE eraser."

Wisely, she also recommended Extra-Strength Tylenol.

Miami: No. I destination for crooks September I, 1994

Now the rest of us know what thieves, robbers and rapists have known for a long time.

Miami is the best place in America to be a criminal. It is to hard-core felons what Disneyland is to Michael Jackson.

In a series being published this week, the Herald used computers to study the effectiveness of Dade's justice system. The results are shocking, scary and disgraceful.

Dade has the worst crime rate in the country, and does the laziest job of putting bad criminals behind bars. Unless you shoot a tourist or rob the mayor, the odds of beating the rap are hugely in your favor.

Only 15 of 100 convicted Dade felons go to state prison; the national average is 46 per 100. Out of 24 major metropolitan areas, Dade is dead last in punishing serious crime.

The customary excuse, swallowed so gullibly by us in the media, turns out to be a myth: There are beds available in Florida prisons, but Dade uses less than half its share.

State Attorney Kathy Rundle insists that crooks often serve more time when sent to county jail rather than state prison. Statistics show that's not true.

Moreover, since 1990, inmates in state prisons are serving increasingly longer stretches of their sentences (44.2 percent today, compared with 33.1 percent four years ago).

To appreciate Dade's marshmallow-softness on crime, consider that a robber arrested in neighboring Broward is three times more likely to go to prison.

What's going on? An incredible jamboree of plea-bargaining.

All big-city prosecutors and judges are snowed under by cases, but dumping them has become an art here in Dade. Of 162 felony defendants—one day's worth last spring—only 12 got prison.

Most of the rest got deals. They had the charges dropped, were put on probation, or were sent through pretrial diversion. One such program, the much-hyped Drug Court, was designed to help first offenders. It's now used as a prison-dodging scam by career crooks. One recent enrollee: a burglar with 28 prior convictions.

Much of the blame falls on prosecutors, and the judges who routinely accept (and encourage) outlandish deals for the sake of expediency.

At the State Attorney's Office, a legacy of leniency began under Janet Reno. Back in 1981, the Herald studied a week's worth of Dade felony arrests: Of 407 defendants, 38 went to prison.

Reno lobbied for a bigger budget and more prosecutors, and got both. Nevertheless, benevolent plea-bargaining has continued at a breakneck pace, sometimes with tragic consequences.

Many judges are content to help spin the revolving door, to thin their heavy calendars. The result: plea deals that gladden a mugger's heart.

It's true that Dade's justice system hasn't kept pace with the crime boom. Prosecutors and judges here labor with heavier caseloads than their counterparts in many cities.

But that doesn't account for the outrageous discrepancy in the imprisonment rate. Dade isn't merely the worst, it's the worst by a mile. Obviously there's an institutional philosophy by which prison is the least desirable of prosecutorial options.

Pretrial diversion might make sense for first timers, but it's a ridiculous approach toward a sleazebag with 28 felony raps. What else are prison cells for?

What the Dade courthouse needs is radical attitude adjustment, or an infusion of aggressive new talent. Forget who's governor or attorney general; it's prosecutors and judges who have the power and responsibility to lock up thugs.

That's a rare event in Miami, now a national playground for felons. The rules are different here.

Death penalty should be fair, certain, swift March 27, 1997

Well, they don't call it Old Sparky for nothing.