06/09/2025
Redemption or Recidivism? Why the American Penal System Fails Us All
By Jonathan Saldivar-Kitto
Founder, Anglican Content Publishing, Inc.
In my years of working with individuals released from incarceration—particularly those imprisoned in their youth—I have come to a painful conclusion: the American penal system is an abject failure. It does not correct. It does not restore. It does not rehabilitate. It simply warehouses human beings, many of them from already marginalized communities, and then releases them into a society they no longer recognize, with no tools to survive—let alone thrive.
The young men I’ve met who went into prison at 17, 18, or 20 and came out nearly a decade later are often stunned by the pace, the expectations, and the simple skills required to function: opening a bank account, navigating public transportation, accessing healthcare, understanding credit, or even using a debit card. They emerge not as citizens, but as strangers.
And then we dare to ask why so many return to prison.
The High Cost of Doing Nothing
The United States spends approximately $80 billion annually on incarceration (Pew Charitable Trusts, 2018). And yet the return on that investment is devastating: roughly two-thirds of released prisoners are rearrested within three years (U.S. Bureau of Justice Statistics, 2021). That is not a justice system—it is a feedback loop of despair.
Compare this to the cost and effectiveness of prison education. According to the RAND Corporation, every dollar spent on education for incarcerated individuals yields $4 to $5 in savings by reducing future incarceration (Davis et al., 2013). We know what works. We simply choose not to fund it.
What Kind of Society Are We?
This is not merely a failure of policy—it is a failure of moral imagination. Whether one grounds their ethics in religious faith, humanist philosophy, or the simple belief in human dignity, the conclusion is the same: people are not disposable. People can change. But only if we give them the means.
For those of us in faith traditions—Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Sikh, and others—restoration is sacred. The Hebrew prophets called for justice that “rolls down like waters” (Amos 5:24), not vengeance. The Qur’an teaches the virtue of forgiveness and rehabilitation. Jesus of Nazareth, whether seen as Savior or sage, extended mercy to those condemned and scorned. Even for those who do not subscribe to religion, the moral arc toward compassion and fairness remains clear. Philosopher Martha Nussbaum speaks of justice as love in action, while Viktor Frankl, a secular Holocaust survivor and psychiatrist, reminds us that meaning—even in suffering—can redeem.
And that redemption must not remain a metaphor. It must be manifest in policy: job training, trauma-informed counseling, financial literacy, parenting education, digital navigation, and trade certification. These are not luxuries. They are tools of survival and re-entry.
A Different Kind of Sentence
Imagine if a 10-year sentence meant not a decade of punitive stasis but 10 years of structured, supported growth. Imagine if correctional facilities operated as campuses of renewal, not cages of abandonment. We know from models in countries like Norway—where inmates live in dignity, receive education, and are treated as humans—that the outcome is transformation. Their recidivism rate hovers around 20%. Ours is three times that.
If our current system functioned as a school for becoming better people, rather than a crucible for trauma and rage, we would all benefit—economically, socially, and spiritually.
A Sacred Mandate for Reform
This is not simply about being kind. This is about being wise. It is about acknowledging that every person who leaves prison unprepared is far more likely to return, and far less likely to contribute meaningfully to society. Our choice is not between mercy and justice—it is between intelligent investment and expensive failure.
To those who would say, “They did the crime, let them do the time,” I say: then let the time do some good.
Whether we see ourselves as stewards of divine justice or believers in human potential, our charge is the same: to make this world more just, more livable, and more whole. To extend the hand that lifts, not the boot that presses down. To be a people who build bridges rather than bars.
Citations:
Davis, L. M., Bozick, R., Steele, J. L., Saunders, J., & Miles, J. (2013). Evaluating the Effectiveness of Correctional Education: A Meta-Analysis of Programs That Provide Education to Incarcerated Adults. RAND Corporation. https://www.rand.org/pubs/research_reports/RR266.html
Pew Charitable Trusts. (2018). Prison Health Care Costs and Quality. https://www.pewtrusts.org/en/research-and-analysis/reports/2018/10/prison-health-care
U.S. Department of Justice, Bureau of Justice Statistics. (2021). Recidivism of Prisoners Released in 2012. https://bjs.ojp.gov/library/publications
Nussbaum, M. (2001). Upheavals of Thought: The Intelligence of Emotions. Cambridge University Press.
Frankl, V. E. (2006). Man’s Search for Meaning. Beacon Press.
