On Wednesday, it became increasingly clear that the state of Minnesota is unable to uphold the U.S. Constitution on its own. Instead, state government appears ready to hand off that fundamental duty to a federal judge — a dispiriting and likely costly outcome after nearly two decades of debate over the controversial program that locks up many sex offenders for treatment long after they've served their sentences.
Gov. Mark Dayton's decision to suspend his administration's support for provisional release for a limited number of sex offenders sent an unmistakable message to watchful federal courts: State policymakers still aren't capable of setting aside politics and hammering out the reforms needed to balance public safety with escalating constitutional concerns and the program's soaring cost.
The civil-commitment program, which has released one person in 18 years, is already in judicial cross hairs. In August 2012, the two judges overseeing a class-action lawsuit filed by offenders forcefully signaled their alarm and willingness to exercise their authority over the program if policymakers failed to act.
In the wake of Dayton's announcement, it's unclear when officials will be able to summon the collective fortitude to call a political cease-fire and make necessary fixes.
Following weeks of criticism of his administration's tacit support for the provisional release of some sex offenders, a clearly angry governor directed Department of Human Services (DHS) Commissioner Lucinda Jesson to oppose future petitions for release until legislators act to reform the program and fund any changes. He also directed Jesson to suspend plans to move any offender in the program to secure community-based facilities. A state-owned facility in Cambridge had been under consideration for about a dozen offenders, sparking outcry from local residents.
Dayton's move came as Republicans and a high-ranking official in his own political party, DFL Attorney General Lori Swanson, ripped the governor for the administration's decision not to oppose the provisional release of one of the 698 offenders in the program. The offender, 58-year-old Thomas Duvall, has been convicted three times for sexually assaulting teenage girls.
An internal panel at the DHS evaluated Duvall and said he met the statutory criteria for a provisional release. Duvall would not simply be set free but would be placed in a halfway house with tight security, and would be subject to GPS monitoring, surveillance and other restrictions.
Dayton repeatedly blasted the criticism of the provisional release measures as political "gamesmanship." At the same time, his decision to suspend support for a crucial reform — one that potentially could have helped allay growing constitutional concerns — allows gamesmanship to triumph yet again in Minnesota, a state where sincere attempts to address the program's failings have been met for years with "soft on crime" attacks by political opponents in both parties. Swanson's criticism is especially curious. She's defending the DHS in the class-action lawsuit while giving opposing counsel plenty of ammunition for its argument that the state's "treatment program" is a flimsy disguise for retroactive life imprisonment.