Probation at break point

By GEOFF CUMMING

The job description from hell is couched in the blandest terms. Probation officers need to show adaptability and resilience and have good analysis, problem-solving and judgment skills, says the career profile on the Corrections Department website.

Their work includes "facilitating intensive rehabilitative programmes for high-risk offenders".

That, say those in the firing line, translates as: "Trying to turn around murderers, rapists and violent offenders - but only if they are ready to change ... It can be like beating your head against a brick wall."

The Government's pre-Budget pledge of $20 million for the probation service in the next two years may give an extra 120 staff the opportunity to bang heads against the wall - such is the level of frustration in a service stretched to breaking point over many years.

From the killing of James Whakaruru, through the Kylie Jones and the Mt Wellington RSA murders, probation officers have been pilloried, often unfairly, for failing to keep tabs on violent prisoners on parole.

Such tragedies heighten fears that the public is at risk from recidivist rapists and murderers roaming the streets apparently unmonitored. The service's credibility has also suffered from staff scandals, including the dismissal of two staff for trading soft offender reports for drugs.

Individuals have been made scapegoats. But the real culprit is only now being targeted, with the promised 22 per cent boost in staff numbers and an 80 per cent improvement in training budgets.

Probation officers are forbidden to talk to the media and, with contract negotiations under way, even union delegates were loath to speak out this week about the extent of the service's problems.

But privately, officers blame the high-profile failures on growing and more demanding caseloads, more complex procedures, dysfunctional management and high staff turnover, leading to poor supervision of inexperienced officers.

"The organisation is just run down," says one. "The rubber band snapped once the Sentencing Reform Bill kicked into play and staff were taken off core duties and not replaced. Offices are grossly under-resourced. It has a snowballing negative effect.

"They have tried to institute major changes, particularly in Auckland, that have led to huge levels of staff burnout and frustration. It's like: 'so we have used and abused you but you'll get over it'. People have had a gutsful."

Staff retention problems are acute on the North Shore, in Central Auckland and South Auckland, says Public Service Association organiser Alan Ware.

A dearth of capable and experienced supervisors and service managers is reflected in an increase in personal grievance claims. Caseloads are mounting in Waikato and the Bay of Plenty.

Burgeoning use by the courts of home detention sentences, from 187 serving home detention last June to 449 at the end of February, has seen some offices reach breaking point.

Acting Corrections Minister Margaret Wilson says it was impossible to anticipate the consequences of the new legislation, and the extent to which the courts would use home detention. The union says the Corrections Department was warned.

But as brow-beaten and bruised as many probation officers are, most remain committed to their job of turning criminals away from a life of crime. This week's funding commitment is viewed by some as a turning point in reviving the ailing service.

The country's 550 probation officers can at least say it's a career with variety. Some are stationed in the courts to advise judges on sentencing options for those convicted of criminal charges. Others write reports for parole boards on release conditions for prisoners, assessing the home environment and recommending rehabilitation programmes.

Others are the gatekeepers of violent offenders released into the community, often after lengthy spells in prison. It is these officers, who specialise in sentence management, who most often get it in the neck.

What the public don't understand, says Auckland area manager Marie Faith-Allen, is that sentence managers are allocated only 4.5 hours a month, or one hour a week, to spend with these "high-risk" clients.

"The public expects 24-hour supervision ... the expectations of the public are very high."

The job attracts committed people who believe they can make a difference, says Faith-Allen, one of a dwindling breed who worked as an officer before entering management.



"They set out to change the offender's behaviour and get them happier with their lot."

Officers say success is measured in small achievements such as decreasing the rate, or the severity, of reoffending.

"The public have huge expectations that probation officers can wave a magic wand and guide offenders through the maze of life but, in reality, contact with them is limited," says one, whom we'll call Bob. "If you can get them to acknowledge they have a problem with alcohol or drugs and look at intervention, that's a success.

"Another measure of success can be taking appropriate enforcement when an offender goes off the rails so they are not a further danger to the community. Total success is getting them to acknowledge the causes of the offending and change their lifestyle."

Faith-Allen says the officer must walk a fine line - building a rapport with the offender to make progress but remaining detached enough to punish those who lapse.

"We look for someone who is non-judgmental but who can confront in a non-aggressive way."

Which sounds fine until you think about the caseload. While most clients are serving sentences of supervision or community work, many have serious drug problems and a growing number are parolees with violent histories.

"With murderers, quite a few are released on life parole," says Bob. "You know that at some stage there has been sufficient trigger for them to kill somebody but you don't know where that trigger lies. You have to accept them as a human being today but you are aware of their past.

"The fun part of the job is telling people they are going to have to be recalled to prison and having them sitting there sweetly waiting for the police to come and pick them up."

The officer assigned to RSA triple killer William Bell had been in the job for only 10 months but was the most experienced in the Mangere service centre.

The office was dealing with more than 400 offenders but lacked a willing manager for some months.

With both Bell and Taffy Hotene, who murdered Kylie Jones in Glen Innes in June 2000, probation officers were misled by incomplete files.

None of this has happened overnight. The probation service's problems were laid bare in 1999, when long-serving officer Chris Gilbert sued the Department of Corrections after his "forced" retirement on medical grounds. He was eventually awarded $800,000 after the courts accepted that his heart condition was caused by burnout.

The Gilbert case highlighted the impact of a decade of state sector reforms and law changes which placed more emphasis on rehabilitation in the community - exposing officers to more "aggressive, violent and unstable people". But, as the Employment Court noted, the changes were driven "not so much by express legislative direction as by departmental policy initiatives based upon a then prevailing philosophy of cost-saving, delegation ... and a general philosophy of striving to do the same or more but with fewer resources."

Insiders say little has changed since the ground-breaking case. If anything, probation officers are more vulnerable.

"There's a huge increase in offenders who report that their offending occurred under methamphetamines," said one officer. "And with P [the purest form of methamphetamine], you don't know if it's the paranoid psychosis or the violence that's going to show itself.

"You can't do any work on them because they may nut out. So there's a tendency to let them go - which can mean consequences for their families."

Too often, officers work alone, making home visits without backup.

"Some offices have got systems set up to monitor probation officers when they are out," says Bob. "Other offices have no systems in place whatsoever."

No wise probation officer stays in sentence management for long, he says. "It's safer to get out and write reports."

In an office opposite Mt Eden Prison, Faith-Allen has a team that does just that, writing reports for parole boards. "Their entire life involves going across to the prison."

Another team is in court to deal with sentencing issues and judges' queries.

Probation officers have historically had to juggle 35 to 40 clients at a time, says Faith-Allen.

"What's changed is the different sentencings that you have to manage and the intensity. You have much more serious offenders now and more effort is made to intervene, to try to reduce reoffending."

The service is introducing an approach called integrated offender management, a psychologically based system which challenges clients to confront the cause of their offending and change their behaviour. But many officers say the programme often doesn't suit the individuals they come up against.

There are more rigid guidelines and procedures to be ticked off, and more "evidence" to be included in reports to judges and parole boards.

Bob says head office protocol means home visits to violent offenders are put off to ensure sentencing reports are completed on time, to avoid getting a judicial complaint.

"We do 40 hours of butt-covering - that's our job. But there's a lack of transparent expectations about what is required in order to be seen to be doing our jobs.

"You get your case plan done as soon as possible and then chuck it out with the bath water."

A new computer system is supposed to make it easier to track offenders' progress but, in common with most new IT systems, the phase-in has been studded with problems.

"From July 1 till April 30 some people had no idea how to enter that an offender had reported in," says Bob.

"It has the potential to be an awesome system but it's very complicated and the training has been grossly inadequate."

Workplace pressures were an underlying issue in the pay dispute in 2001 when probation workers went on strike for the only time in their history. The officers' pay scale starts at $35,000 and rises in $3000 increments to $48,000.

To move up, officers complete courses to broaden skills, known as competencies. But caseloads prevent many from undertaking training while some service managers actively discourage competencies, says Bob.

"For only five people in New Zealand to be on the top competency level shows that it's not working. Historically there were clear steps through the public sector. I think it's a way of holding people back."

While few probation officers were willing to speak to the Weekend Herald, their concerns are reflected in an operational safety survey undertaken by the PSA, handed this week to Margaret Wilson. The report quotes officers' concerns about volatile and difficult to handle work gangs, unpredictable drug abusers and incidents where offenders have brought weapons to appointments.

Mangere staff reported, in the wake of the Bell reviews, a climate of fear and intimidation, low morale and an inability to speak up or raise questions. But the PSA says Mangere is not alone in having a dysfunctional workplace.

One office reported caseloads of 80 to 100, in breach of manual requirements. Two centres admitted that home visits and follow-up were not happening with high-risk offenders.

Fourteen months ago, the PSA warned that the service was on the brink of collapse after a departmental cost-saving edict. The memo said the service was under "severe budget pressures" and needed to make savings. These included suspending home visits for low-risk offenders, instituting telephone reporting and shortening community and supervision sentences.

Announcing the budget increase this week, acting minister Margaret Wilson said: "It is vital for public safety that New Zealand has an effective probation service."

The increased funding will improve training and career development and allow stressed officers more time out.

Alan Ware says until all the issues are addressed, the potential for another William Bell remains.

"The funding announcement has definitely begun to make a difference.

"It's not going to create heaven but it's a significant step out of hell."