What could be more "liberal" than believing in society's responsibility for crime--that crime is less the product of free will than of poverty and other social forces beyond the individual's control? And what could be more "progressive" than the belief that the law should aim for social, not merely individual, justice? This work of social, cultural, and legal history uncovers the contested origins and paradoxical consequences of the two protean concepts in the cosmopolitan cities of industrial America at the turn of the twentieth century.
An interesting look at how turn-of-the-century Chicago embarked on a radical experiment in "socializing justice" by focusing their court system on environmental and personal reform instead of mere criminal prosecution.
As Willrich notes, most of the previous writers on the Progressive movement have looked only at their legislative and executive reforms to government. When they looked at the judicial branch at all it was only to repeat the inflated claims by the Progressives themselves about a universally reactionary judiciary which mangled or struck down Progressive laws. But as the author shows, judicial reforms were a central, and often successful, part of the Progressive platform, since many believed that old-fashioned criminal prosecution crucially ignored the environmental and economic causes of crime, and that new Progressive courts could help alleviate these "root causes." The most interesting section of the book traces the intellectual roots of this idea.
In 1884 attorney, and future Illinois Governor, John Peter Altgeld could already complain that while "every man is to a great extent what his heredity and early environment have made him," most judges sentenced criminals as if their personal circumstances made no matter. Altgeld said that judicial system officials, funded mainly by fees on those charged in their court, lived merely off "the shortcoming and transgressions of their fellow men." There was a whole new sympathy for the accused criminal here that blossomed as the 20th century began. Theorists like Roscoe Pound advocated ending the judicial "presumption of equality" (between the circumstances of the rich and poor) and said judges should sentence people with regard to society's interest and the interest of the oppressed poor in mind. Soon a respected attorney like Clarence Darrow could even say that the true criminals in society were economic monopolists like Rockefeller, and that the only way to end crime was to "Make fair the conditions of life." Although much of the Progressive impulse to "make fair the conditions" was exerted on new laws, they did work to have courts reform the personal and social environment of those they sentenced, often through a partnership with private philanthropy.
Philanthropist Jane Addams claimed that even though the modern city produced a dangerous "moral isolation" among its citizens, it also "socialized the very instruments that constitute the apparatus of social control" for those citizens, including, of course, the "Law." She encouraged the adoption of the first probation and parole statutes, and her Hull House Settlement provided numerous unpaid "protective officers" who worked with the court to "adopt" and socialize arrested children and adults, as well as report on local business crimes (selling alcohol to minors, etc.). Later, Hull House's "Juvenile Protective Association," (JPA) formed in 1909, provided the Court of Domestic Relations with its first social service secretary, who was then provided with team of investigators through the collective efforts of the JPA, the Catholic Woman's Protectorate, and the Jewish Bureau of Personal Service. These women, and they were all women, investigated claims into men who abandoned their wives, while at the same time trying to recover "abandonment" payments from them and to help them return to productive citizenship. They examined home conditions to see that they were properly maintained and admonished paroled offenders to remain sober or risk a return to an industrial "House of Correction." Though at first these social workers were private volunteers, they were soon added to the courts' burgeoning payroll, demonstrating the fragile line between private and public government at the time. In either facet, these social workers represented a new and surprisingly intrusive imposition of the local state into the private lives of its citizens, which alternately thrilled or repulsed many politicians of the era. As the Children's Bureau later said "the old courts relied upon the learning of lawyers; the new courts depend more upon psychiatrists and social workers."
The later half of the book, which deals in intense statistical detail with specialized branches of Chicago's new, unified "Municipal Court" (like the "Morals Court," the "Boys' Court," and the "Psychopathic Laboratory,") is less interesting. But the book finishes with an interesting look at the disturbing rise of eugenics in the Progressive movement, as well as the anti-Progressive reaction against socialized justice in the Prohibition-era 1920s. It's an original and worthwhile read.
The book details the creation, structure, and function of the Chicago Municipal Court (1906), which was a model for numerous other American jurisdictions and the flagship of the Progressive socialized law movement. The local is key to understanding the criminal justice system in the United States, and the book does an excellent job providing an account of daily operations and their significance. Case studies of the Domestic Relations, Morals, and Boys' courts, as well as the Psychopathic Laboratory, illustrate how socialized law was implemented in Chicago and the effects it had on the defendants moving through the system.
Interesting take on using municipal courts as precursors to administrative agencies charged with solving social problems and advancing a progressive agenda.