Moved Out, Locked In

In 2008, Danny Young was elected to represent the Second Ward of Anamosa, Iowa. The catch? He only received two votes: one from his wife and one from his neighbor.

How did Anamosa’s democracy become so distorted? While each of the city’s four wards had a population of roughly 1,400 people, Young’s ward housed the Anamosa State Penitentiary. These prisoners were counted in Anamosa’s census, but the inmates could not vote. When asked whether he considered the inmates his constituents, Young replied, “They don’t vote, so, I guess, not really.”

Only 58 people were eligible to cast a ballot in Ward Two’s 2008 election. And because three people ended up at the polls, Young only needed two votes to win. Even more concerning than Young’s vote count, however, was the fact that each individual in Ward Two ended up with far more influence over the city’s politics than the people of Wards One, Three, and Four. This is because . But Young’s story is only one example of a much larger phenomenon plaguing communities across America: prison gerrymandering.

"This is a system that diminishes the power of minority communities to the advantage of whites time and time again. "

Prison gerrymandering begins at the census. When conducting its decennial count of Americans, the Census Bureau defines residencies as “the place where a person lives and sleeps most of the time.” Consequently, the census counts incarcerated people as residents of the towns where they are imprisoned. Prison gerrymandering occurs when this data is used by states to manipulate election districts. This practice threatens the integrity of our democracy and inflates the representation of some districts while diminishing the influence of others. Moreover, it disproportionately hurts communities of color and contributes to the already pervasive systemic racism in our criminal justice system.

At its most basic level, prison gerrymandering merits attention because it violates the “one person, one vote” doctrine touted by the United States. In 1964, the Supreme Court affirmed this principle and invoked the Equal Protection Clause of the Constitution to rule that states must guarantee residents “the opportunity for equal participation by all voters in the election of state legislatures.” Prison gerrymandering works counter to this ruling. When states create districts, they theoretically distribute populations equally so that constituents in each district have roughly the same level of representation (and thus power). Incarcerated Americans are often placed in prisons outside of their home districts and, in all but two states, barred from voting. As a result, when prison gerrymandering occurs, the influence of non-prisoners in prison-containing districts grows. Meanwhile, communities with high crime rates see their representation diluted as their residents are shipped off to other districts.

Furthermore, prison gerrymandering often unfairly magnifies the representation of rural voters. This is because rural districts hold a disproportionate number of prisons, whereas most inmates come from urban communities. In Texas, for example, 12 percent of “residents” in one rural district are prisoners, meaning “88 residents from that district … are represented in the State House as if they were 100 residents from urban Houston or Dallas.” As a result, location becomes a partial determinant of political influence.

"Redistricting will take place over the next two years. When this happens, our democracy and commitment to racial justice will be tested."

Geographic patterns also have political consequences. Urban areas tend to skew liberal, while rural communities lean more conservative. According to Pew Research, this inflates the representation of Republicans at the expense of Democrats. The disproportionate effect of prison gerrymandering on the two major political parties makes this practice undeniably undemocratic.

This phenomenon becomes an even bigger issue in the context of its relationship with systemic racism. Prison gerrymandering contributes to the broader issue of white supremacy that strips non-white Americans of equal representation. Biases in law, courts, and policing lead to higher rates of incarceration for people of color; unconscious—and sometimes even conscious—racism from judges means that non-white individuals are frequently held to higher levels of scrutiny. For instance, while drug use is similarly prevalent among Blacks and whites, Black Americans are imprisoned for drug charges at six times the rate of whites. And while minorities are overrepresented in the criminal justice system, with Black Americans incarcerated in comparison to whites at a rate of five to one, prisons are disproportionately found in majority-white districts. Because the rural, over-represented communities are typically whiter in composition than the prison population itself, they not only fail to represent the interests of the prisoners but also dilute the power of the inmates’ home communities, where the inmates’ own interests are more likely to be promoted. This is a system that diminishes the power of minority communities to the advantage of whites time and time again.

When the United States redistricts after the 2020 Census, it will have the opportunity—and the imperative—to eliminate prison gerrymandering. But reform isn’t an easy task. Indeed, it’s in the interest of many politicians to preserve prison gerrymandering—to the extent that this interest influences legislative priorities. For example, before New York reformed its districting process, “the staunchest opponents of drug sentencing reform were two senators whose districts were home to more than 17 percent of the state’s prisoners … almost one-third” of whom “were imprisoned for drug offenses.”

Frustratingly, the Census Bureau continues to count prisoners as residents of the towns in which they are incarcerated, despite heavy public criticism. But on a state level, reformers can encourage state governments to use prisoners’ true residencies when creating districts. There is hope already. Six states have effectively ended prison gerrymandering by adjusting census data to count incarcerated people in their home districts. Change is necessary, and early successes prove that reform is possible. It’s time for other states to follow suit.

"[Prison gerrymandering] threatens the integrity of our democracy and inflates the representation of some districts while diminishing the influence of others."

In states resistant to change, reformers can achieve progress through litigation. Prison-gerrymandered districts have been successfully challenged in court, establishing a precedent for future challenges. Notably, a Florida district was deemed unconstitutional in a federal court case, Calvin et al. v. Jefferson County. The decision noted that “to treat the inmates the same as actual constituents makes no sense under any theory of one person, one vote, and … of representative democracy.” This is a huge victory for prison reformers, and these successes must inspire more widespread action.

The deadline for change, however, is almost upon us: Redistricting will take place over the next two years. When this happens, our democracy and commitment to racial justice will be tested. We need to act boldly on this issue to protect our democracy and ensure that racist and geographically discriminatory districting does not poison our elections in coming decades. 

Illustration by Connor Robinson ’20: instagram.com/con__artist

#Gerrymandering #PrisonGerrymandering #prisonerrights #voting