California’s Veterans Treatment Courts

Eligibility for one of California's 34 Veterans Treatment Courts, aka VTCs, is not based on the person's status as a veteran, but rather on the belief that the criminal conduct was caused by an underlying physical or psychological injury suffered during military service. In VTCs, veterans voluntarily take part in a community-based treatment plan tailored to their needs. It is in the interests of justice to restore the veteran to the community of law abiding citizens. Penal Code Section 1170.9 VTCs are the products of not only the courts, but the Legislature, the counties, the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs and many agencies and volunteers.

VTCs are collaborative courts. What that means is that a group of professionals, headed by the judge, collaborate about each veteran appearing in court. Usually the team consists of the judge, an administrator, a deputy district attorney, a deputy public defender, a probation officer, a county mental health professional, a person from the VA, sometimes a volunteer agency and perhaps a few others. The team decides who will be admitted to a VTC and once admitted discusses the person's progress, and generally plans how best to proceed, reviewing each case just prior to beginning court.

VTCs do not determine whether or not the veteran is guilty of an offense, but rather try to ensure that he or she receives treatment to address unmet clinical needs. Each VTC makes its own rules and procedures, tailoring them to the peculiar needs of the court's location.

With an all-volunteer military, recruiters tend to select the best and the brightest. Thus, almost none of the veterans in a VTC has a criminal record prior to entering the armed forces. The idea behind our VTCs is to get those who served back on the same track they were on before they went into the military. These courts are successful. The typical recidivism rate for criminals is around 77 percent, but one study demonstrated the recidivism rate for veterans in a specialized court was 10.4 percent.

Many valuable lessons learned from drug courts are used in VTCs. Some of the key components that make VTCs successful are that they integrate alcohol, drug and mental health treatment and services with the justice system. Non-adversarial approaches are used when possible. Evidenced-based practices are utilized. That is, these courts strive to adhere to the latest scientific studies rather than improvising. Their goal is to heal these veterans and send them on to productive civilian lives. Court personnel are specially selected; they deeply care about the human condition. Ongoing interaction between the judge and the veteran is essential. The judges get to know each veteran as a person. They know about the veteran's family, education and job situation.

The first VTC in California was in Orange County. In its planning stage in 2008, Judge Wendy Lindley, knowing I was a Vietnam veteran, asked me to see if some of "the guys" would be willing to volunteer as mentors in the court. To this day, several of those members of the local chapter of Vietnam Veterans of America constitute the core group of mentors. I told Judge Lindley that if there were women vets in her court, I would mentor them if she needed me. Thus, for nine years, from 2009 to 2017, I ran over to veterans court on Tuesday afternoons to help mentor, primarily, but not always, women veterans.

Because I acted as a mentor, I was able to observe many different judges preside over a veterans court, and learned a lot about the dynamics. One interesting aspect was the interaction among the veterans and the mentors as they waited in the hallway for the courtroom doors to open. All of us had served in the military, and the common aim of both the defendants and their mentors was to make sure that everyone succeeded. Many of the judges required all the veterans to wait in the courtroom until every case was heard, thus cementing the "all for one and one for all" attitude.

When a veteran was new to a VTC, he or she often slouched and seemed to have a chip on the shoulder. Or maybe it was shame. It was hard to tell the difference. But as time when on, I watched them start to stand up straight and proud, sometimes assuming the at-ease position with hands clasped behind the back. That was when I knew the person would succeed.

Judicial discretion, VTC-style, was fascinating at times. On one occasion, one of my mentees was a beautiful young woman whose urine test was abnormal in that it was diluted. It seems that some people try to skew results by drinking large amounts of water. She explained to me that it was all a big mistake in that she is very health conscious and always drinks a lot of water. I didn't believe her. Sitting in the audience when her case was called, I listened to her explain her situation to the court. The judge was a man sitting in for Judge Lindley. Standing at the podium and looking profoundly sincere, she carefully explained her health routine. She sounded quite convincing. From the judge's face, I gleaned he wanted to give her a break. Then he put his head down into his cupped hands. When he looked up, his eyes went around to the team members scattered throughout the courtroom. The judge shook his head as if he was clearing it out. Pretty soon, my mentee was hooked up and taken to jail.

I supposed what happened was that the judge was considering just giving her a stern lecture and sending her on her way. But then he remembered the team had decided she should have an overnighter and he didn't want to buck the team's decision, even though he had the power to do so. Perhaps that's a rather unpolished way of explaining how evidenced-based practices are applied in veterans courts. That is, studies have shown that immediate consequences are effective.

Still on the topic of judicial discretion, I also observed a judge go against a team decision. While most defendants were veterans of Iraq or Afghanistan, a Vietnam vet's case was called on this occasion. Looking scrubbed and happy, he displayed an A+ grade on his college paper. With tears in his eyes, he thanked Judge Lindley for giving him a chance. At that point, some rattling could be heard from the prisoners' cage in the courtroom holding in-custody defendants on non-veterans court matters. Inside the holding cell was another Vietnam vet. The caged Vietnam vet looked filthy, pitiful and bedraggled. He was clinging to the bars. He sounded like the character in the movie "When Harry Met Sally" ("I'll have what she's having.") when he begged the judge to allow him into veterans court, too. As Judge Lindley talked with him, it appeared she was looking over the collaborative team for reactions. The judge told him the team already decided not to permit him into veterans court due to his many decades of crimes and drug use. After he pleaded with her to change her mind, she relented and said she would give him the opportunity. I think I heard some clearing of throats from team members and I believe I saw Judge Lindley's face redden as she ruled contrary to the team's decision. He was admitted into veterans court. At the recess, I asked the bailiff if I could approach the cage and speak with him. I told the man I had been a nurse in Vietnam and that I had seen many Vietnam vets succeed, and I hoped he would as well. The next time I saw him, about two months later, he looked like a college professor, wearing a corduroy blazer with patches on the sleeves. His hair was shampooed and in a pony tail. The last time I saw him was at his graduation. One of the things he said in his remarks was, "I couldn't let that nurse down."

As time goes on, more and more is learned about what works in these courts. As already observed, studies reported the need for immediate consequences. But more recent studies have shown that those overnighters, considered so essential to get the veteran to fully realize the cost of breaking the rules, are not the best way to go. The idea behind sending a person to jail for violating the team's rules is similar to behavioral modification. In the old days, when judges tried to show mercy and gave a violator another chance, by the time he or she actually went to jail, perhaps months after the violation, there was a negligible psychological connection between the breach and the punishment. Suffering the immediate consequence of a night or two in jail was thought to force a mental connection between the infringement and the punishment. But it turns out that the abrupt disruption of daily activities and having to explain to family and employers that the veteran has to go to jail for a night or two is so profoundly unsettling and embarrassing, it actually increases antisocial behaviors among low-risk individuals. From a recidivism perspective, sending them to jail for minor infringements may do more harm than good because the trauma of jail can set them on a backward course. Thus, writing essays, doing community service or some means other than jail to modify behavior are now thought to be the better way to proceed. Criminal Justice Policy Review, Vo. 27, p. 812-837 (2016)

A lot more needs to done in our VTCs when it comes to women veterans. So many of the women who end up in court were victims of military sexual trauma, and their lingering trauma is rooted in being in a military-like setting. One young woman I mentored chose to go to jail instead of continuing in the VTC because there was no all-women group therapy available. She told me she would feel more comfortable in jail than in a closed room with military men. Also in need of more attention are the spouses, partners and children of veterans. I realize we only have so much money to spend on these courts, but maybe in time we'll figure out something better for our women veterans and the families of veterans. 