Juvenile Justice

Noah Schultz’s life was spinning out of control. At 17, he was already immersed in drugs and gangs in his Portland, Oregon, neighborhood. When someone cheated him on a drug deal, Schultz decided to get revenge, tracking the man down and beating him with a pistol, causing severe bruising to his face. 

That night in 2009 would be Schultz’s last day of freedom for more than seven years. Within 24 hours he was arrested, charged with assault as an adult, and held on $500,000 bail. He was transferred between multiple adult jails, where he endured extensive time in solitary confinement—for his own protection, he was told.

“I couldn’t believe what happened so quickly,” Schultz says. “I’m sitting in this jail with a bunch of grown men thinking: How did I get here? How did this happen?”

Schultz’s case is far from uncommon. He was housed in adult jails after his arrest because Oregon is one of 27 states where prosecutors can charge 16- and 17-year-old offenders as adults if they choose. (Six states* automatically charge 16-year olds and/or 17-year-olds as adults.)

But recently, some states have begun making it harder to charge juveniles as adults and started to focus more on rehabilitation. New scientific research and several Supreme Court rulings involving juveniles and crime have prompted the states to act, reversing a “tough on crime” philosophy that led to harsher penalties for young people who commit serious crimes.

“Legislators have finally started to realize that treating juveniles just like adults does more harm than good,” says David DeMatteo, a professor of law at Drexel University in Philadelphia.

However, some victims’ rights groups and lawmakers are pushing back against the trend, arguing that the worst criminals deserve harsh punishments no matter how old they are.

 “Prison penalties fairly and systematically applied means less crime,” says U.S. Attorney General Jeff Sessions, a former Republican senator from Alabama and an outspoken critic of changing the juvenile and adult justice systems.

Noah Schultz’s life was spinning out of control. At 17, he was already tied up with drugs and gangs in his Portland, Oregon, neighborhood. When someone cheated him on a drug deal, Schultz decided to get revenge. He tracked the man down and beat him with a pistol, causing severe bruising to his face.

That night in 2009 would be Schultz’s last day of freedom for more than seven years. Within 24 hours he was arrested, charged with assault as an adult, and held on $500,000 bail. He was transferred between multiple adult jails. During that period, he endured extensive time in solitary confinement. It was for his own protection, he was told.

“I couldn’t believe what happened so quickly,” Schultz says. “I’m sitting in this jail with a bunch of grown men thinking: How did I get here? How did this happen?”

Schultz’s case is far from uncommon. He was housed in adult jails after his arrest because he was in Oregon. It's one of 27 states where prosecutors can charge 16- and 17-year-old offenders as adults if they choose. Six states automatically charge 16-year olds and/or 17-year-olds as adults.

But recently, some states have begun making it harder to charge juveniles as adults. These states have started to focus more on rehabilitation. New scientific research and several Supreme Court rulings involving juveniles and crime have convinced the states to act. Now, they are working to reverse a “tough on crime” philosophy. This thinking is what has led to harsher penalties for young people who commit serious crimes.

“Legislators have finally started to realize that treating juveniles just like adults does more harm than good,” says David DeMatteo, a professor of law at Drexel University in Philadelphia.

But some victims’ rights groups and lawmakers are pushing back against the trend. They argue that the worst criminals deserve harsh punishments no matter how old they are.

“Prison penalties fairly and systematically applied means less crime,” says U.S. Attorney General Jeff Sessions, a former Republican senator from Alabama and an outspoken critic of changing the juvenile and adult justice systems. 

The idea of treating juveniles differently in the justice system has a long history. In the early 1800s, special facilities to deal with juveniles were created in cities like New York and Chicago. These “reformatories” housed kids deemed “juvenile delinquents” (see “Key Dates, below).

The creation of the first juvenile court in 1899 in Illinois marked the beginning of the modern-day juvenile justice system. Most states created their own juvenile courts in the following decades. These courts were staffed by judges and prosecutors who were trained to use methods such as probation, restitution to victims, and occasionally incarceration to rehabilitate young people in trouble.

This system remained largely unchanged for most of the 20th century. But in the 1980s, juvenile crime rates—especially for violent crimes—began to increase drastically, in part because of a nationwide crack cocaine epidemic. This led many politicians, community leaders, and police officials to demand action.

The government’s response was to crack down on crime, passing legislation in the early 1990s that targeted juveniles and made it easier for prosecutors to seek stiff penalties in court.

“Once we got the harsh laws and sentencing guidelines, the system became about punishment and not rehabilitation,” says Christina Gilbert, an attorney at the National Juvenile Defender Center, an organization dedicated to juvenile legal defense.

The idea of treating juveniles differently in the justice system has a long history. In the early 1800s, special centers to deal with young offenders were created in cities like New York and Chicago. These “reformatories” housed kids considered to be “juvenile delinquents” (see “Key Dates,” below).

In 1899, the first juvenile court opened in Illinois. Its creation marked the beginning of the modern-day juvenile justice system. Most states created their own juvenile courts in the following decades. Judges and prosecutors trained to rehabilitate young people in trouble staffed these courts. They used methods such as probation, restitution to victims, and occasionally incarceration.

This system remained largely unchanged for most of the 20th century. But in the 1980s, juvenile crime rates began to increase drastically. And the rates were especially higher for violent crimes. This spike was driven in part by a nationwide crack cocaine epidemic. In response, many politicians, community leaders, and police officials demanded action.

The government’s response was to crack down on crime. In the early 1990s, Congress passed legislation that targeted juveniles. These laws also made it easier for prosecutors to seek stiff penalties in court.

“Once we got the harsh laws and sentencing guidelines, the system became about punishment and not rehabilitation,” says Christina Gilbert, an attorney at the National Juvenile Defender Center, an organization dedicated to juvenile legal defense.    

The shift toward punishment led to a ballooning juvenile prison population in the 1990s. And by 2000, juveniles were regularly being sent into adult systems for crimes ranging from drug possession to murder, further stressing overcrowded prisons.

But in the new century, authorities began to rethink their approach. In several cases from 2005 to 2012, the Supreme Court ruled that both the death penalty and mandatory life sentences were unconstitutional for juvenile offenders, citing the Eighth Amendment’s ban on “cruel and unusual punishment.”

The high court’s rulings also took into account new scientific research, including findings that the areas of the brain that deal with decision making, impulsiveness, and consequences are often not fully developed until people
are in their 20s.

Studies have also shown that adolescents are more likely than adult offenders to respond to interventions and grow out of delinquent behavior. Supreme Court Justice Elena Kagan wrote of adolescents’ “diminished culpability and heightened capacity for change” in the 2012 majority opinion banning mandatory life sentences for juveniles. 

The shift toward punishment led to a ballooning juvenile prison population in the 1990s. By 2000, juveniles were regularly being sent into adult systems for crimes ranging from drug possession to murder. This further stressed overcrowded prisons.

But in the new century, authorities began to rethink their approach. In several cases from 2005 to 2012, the Supreme Court ruled that both the death penalty and mandatory life sentences were unconstitutional for juvenile offenders. They based their decisions on the Eighth Amendment’s ban on “cruel and unusual punishment.”

The high court’s rulings also took into account new scientific research. This included findings that the areas of the brain that deal with decision making, impulsiveness, and consequences are often not fully developed until people are in their 20s.

Studies have also shown that adolescents are more likely than adult offenders to respond to interventions and grow out of delinquent behavior. Supreme Court Justice Elena Kagan wrote of adolescents’ “diminished culpability and heightened capacity for change” in the 2012 majority opinion banning mandatory life sentences for juveniles.    

While in custody, Carvente received counseling and other support. He also began a college program.

Carvente, who served four years for the shooting, acknowledged that he deserved punishment for his crime. But he’s grateful for the opportunities he was given while in custody. Now 25, Carvente earned a bachelor’s degree and is planning to go to graduate school.  

“If we put kids in situations where there’s mentors, where there’s love and support, they can turn their lives around,” he says. “I’m proof of that.”

Recently seven states, including Illinois, Louisiana, and New Hampshire, passed laws barring anyone under 17 from being automatically charged as an adult. North Carolina this summer decided to raise the minimum age from 16 to 18, starting in 2020. And last year, Vermont decided to raise the minimum age from 18 to 21. Many other states have started to favor rehabilitation over long prison sentences for juveniles.

While in custody, Carvente received counseling and other support. He also began a college program.

Carvente served a total of four years for the shooting. He acknowledges that he deserved punishment for his crime. But he’s grateful for the opportunities he was given while in custody. Now 25, Carvente earned a bachelor’s degree and is planning to go to graduate school.

“If we put kids in situations where there’s mentors, where there’s love and support, they can turn their lives around,” he says. “I’m proof of that.”

Recently seven states, including Illinois, Louisiana, and New Hampshire, passed laws barring anyone under 17 from being automatically charged as an adult. North Carolina this summer decided to raise the minimum age from 16 to 18, starting in 2020. And last year, Vermont raised the minimum age from 18 to 21. Many other states have started to favor rehabilitation over long prison sentences for juveniles.    

Despite success stories like Carvente’s, some officials and victims’ rights groups say offenders like him should be punished more severely, not less.  

Last year, Senator Tom Cotton, Republican of Arkansas, blocked bipartisan legislation that would have prohibited states receiving federal money from jailing juveniles in adult prisons.

“If this grand experiment in criminal leniency goes awry, how many lives will be ruined?” Cotton asked, while opposing the bill in Congress. “How many dead? How much of the anti-crime progress of the last generation will be wiped away for the next?”

Cotton isn’t the only lawmaker who opposes changes. A measure to raise the age of criminal responsibility in Texas from 17 to 18 failed to pass last year, and legislation to improve education in Maryland’s juvenile system also failed.

And some victims’ rights advocates also warn against shifting away from punishing juvenile offenders.

William G. Otis, a former federal prosecutor and now a law professor at Georgetown University in Washington, D.C., argues harsher justice—both at the juvenile and adult levels—is the best way to reduce crime.

Otis points to the case of Wendell Callahan. After being arrested in Ohio at 17, Callahan was sentenced to a long prison term for a drug conviction. But he gained early release after more than a decade in prison, and less than two years later, Callahan murdered his ex-girlfriend and her two young children. Otis says the case is proof that tough punishments are necessary.

“When people are incarcerated, they aren’t out in the street ransacking your home or slashing children to death,” he says.

But many states continue to head in the opposite direction, including Oregon, which now bases its juvenile justice approach on a model that emphasizes treatment, education, and rehabilitation.

Noah Schultz, the Portland teen arrested for assault, benefited from that approach. After his attorney arranged a plea deal, Schultz was moved out of an adult jail to a juvenile center, where he served more than seven years before his release in 2016. He earned two bachelor’s degrees while incarcerated and now works with at-risk kids.

“It was a struggle,” says Schultz, “but I was able to completely reinvent myself, and a lot of that is due to having the opportunity to grow while I was incarcerated.”

Success stories like Carvente’s exist. Yet some officials and victims’ rights groups still say offenders like him should be punished more severely, not less.

Last year, Senator Tom Cotton, Republican of Arkansas, blocked bipartisan legislation that would have prohibited states receiving federal money from jailing juveniles in adult prisons.

“If this grand experiment in criminal leniency goes awry, how many lives will be ruined?” Cotton asked, while opposing the bill in Congress. “How many dead? How much of the anti-crime progress of the last generation will be wiped away for the next?”

Cotton isn’t the only lawmaker who opposes changes. A measure to raise the age of criminal responsibility in Texas from 17 to 18 failed to pass last year. And legislation to improve education in Maryland’s juvenile system also failed.

Some victims’ rights advocates also warn against shifting away from punishing juvenile offenders.

William G. Otis, a former federal prosecutor and now a law professor at Georgetown University in Washington, D.C., argues harsher justice is the best way to reduce crime. He supports this tactic at both the juvenile and adult levels.

Otis points to the case of Wendell Callahan. After being arrested in Ohio at 17, Callahan was sentenced to a long prison term for a drug conviction. But he gained early release after more than a decade in prison. Less than two years later, Callahan murdered his ex-girlfriend and her two young children. Otis says the case is proof that tough punishments are necessary.

“When people are incarcerated, they aren’t out in the street ransacking your home or slashing children to death,” he says.

But many states continue to head in the opposite direction. That includes Oregon, which now bases its juvenile justice approach on a model that emphasizes treatment, education, and rehabilitation.

Noah Schultz, the Portland teen arrested for assault, benefited from that approach. After his attorney arranged a plea deal, Schultz was moved out of an adult jail to a juvenile center. There he served more than seven years before his release in 2016. He earned two bachelor’s degrees while incarcerated and now works with at-risk kids.

“It was a struggle,” says Schultz, “but I was able to completely reinvent myself, and a lot of that is due to having the opportunity to grow while I was incarcerated.”    

*Georgia, Michigan, Missouri, Texas, and Wisconsin charge 17-year-olds as adults; North Carolina also charges 16-year-olds as adults.
**New York recently stopped automatically charging 16- and 17-year-olds as adults.

*Georgia, Michigan, Missouri, Texas, and Wisconsin charge 17-year-olds as adults; North Carolina also charges 16-year-olds as adults.
**New York recently stopped automatically charging 16- and 17-year-olds as adults.