The Punishment Economy: Why We Lock Up the Poor and Addicted for Life

Scott Anthony Smith’s case is a tragic example of how America’s excessive sentencing laws have not only wasted taxpayer money but also failed to address the root causes of crime—poverty, addiction, and mental illness. His 1996 conviction for meth possession sentenced him to life in prison under the Three Strikes Law, treating his addiction as if it were a violent crime.

For 27 years, the state of California spent hundreds of thousands of dollars annually to keep him locked in a prison system flooded with drugs, violence, and corruption—the very environment that exacerbates the problems that put him there in the first place. Instead of receiving treatment, rehabilitation, or economic opportunity, Scott became yet another statistic in the punishment economy, where human beings are discarded rather than helped.

A System That Profits from Punishment, Not Rehabilitation

Smith’s story is not unique. Thousands of nonviolent offenders, many of them addicted, impoverished, or mentally ill, were swept into the Three Strikes net and left to rot. When Proposition 36 passed in 2012, allowing for resentencing of nonviolent third-strike offenders, Scott was one of many who applied for a second chance.

The court denied him.

Citing his in-prison behavior—which is expected in violent, traumatizing, gang-controlled environments like California prisons—the judge decided he was still a danger to society. But what does that say about the system itself? If a man enters prison for possessing meth and comes out 20 years later involved in attempted murders and assaults, has the system rehabilitated him, or has it created the very kind of criminal it claims to protect society from?

Scott’s eventual release in 2024 came only after he had wasted nearly three decades of his life behind bars—time that could have been spent in drug treatment, vocational training, or reintegration into society. The economic cost of his imprisonment alone is staggering, but the human cost is even greater.

Sentencing Poor, Addicted, and Mentally Ill People to Die in Prison

Cases like Scott’s—and others like Ezra Williams and Shawn Rodriguez, sentenced to lifetimes behind bars for non-homicide crimes—expose the grim reality of the U.S. justice system:

      1.    It does not rehabilitate.

      2.    It does not promote public safety.

      3.    It exists to perpetuate itself, creating jobs for prison guards, funding for prosecutors, and political leverage for “tough-on-crime” politicians.

Rather than helping people escape addiction or poverty, the system turns them into permanent prisoners, cash cows for the incarceration industry. Scott Smith spent 27 years in a prison rife with drugs, violence, and gang culture, then was told he was unfit to be free because he had adapted to survive in that environment. The logic is circular, cruel, and devastatingly costly.

A System That Needs to Be Dismantled

Mass incarceration is a $80 billion-a-year industry, and the people suffering the most from it are not serial killers or child molesters—they are people like Scott, who struggled with addiction, or Ezra, who committed crimes rooted in poverty, or Shawn, who was swept up by a system that doesn’t care about innocence or intent. The people who belong in prison—true threats to society—are the smallest percentage of those incarcerated.

For those whose rehabilitation is possible, sentencing them to decades in hellholes masquerading as correctional facilities is not only a moral failure but an economic one. Instead of burning money on human suffering, these billions could be used for:

      •     Mental health and addiction treatment.

      •     Job training programs.

      •     Housing, food security, and community resources that prevent crime before it happens.

Instead, we spend more to destroy lives than it would cost to save them.

We Must End the Punishment Economy

Scott Smith’s life sentence for meth possession was a death sentence in slow motion, and he is one of the lucky ones who managed to escape. Thousands more remain trapped, left to die behind bars for nonviolent crimes that could have been prevented with basic social support.

This system is not about justice—it is about power and control. It is about preserving a multi-billion dollar industry that thrives on suffering. And it will not change until enough people stand up and demand an end to excessive sentencing, mandatory minimums, and inhumane incarceration policies.

If America claims to be a nation of second chances, then we must stop sentencing people to lifetimes of despair when redemption is possible.