It has been widely reported that the City of London is tackling hooliganism on the public streets triggered by repeated bouts of inebriation with a pilot program that compels offenders to wear an ankle tag that monitors their boozing.
The device is designed to measure the level of alcohol in the wearer’s perspiration every half hour and readings are transmitted to a base center for monitoring by a court officer.
Boris Johnson, the Mayor of London, was quoted as saying that, “Alcohol-fueled criminal behavior is a real scourge on our high streets, deterring law-abiding citizens from enjoying our great city, especially at night, placing massive strain on frontline services, while costing businesses and the taxpayer billions of pounds.”
This strategy has been applied, to a limited extent, on this side of the pond as well, though I’m unfamiliar with any research on how effective it has been in tamping down alcohol-induced misbehavior.
At any rate, as a form of public humiliation, an ankle bracelet rates pretty low on a scale of what passed for common forms of punishment meted out by Elizabethan-era authorities in not so Merry England and by our own Colonial forebears: branding (an early expression of public “advertising” of your crime with hot irons), nailing an offender’s ears to a wooden plank or even encasing a “scold” in an iron mask to silence her.
Not to mention public whippings, stocks and pillories for the types of crimes that might make even Tea Party members cringe. Or not.
Even today, our criminal justice system can still find ways to torture inmates through botched executions. Yes, in most instances, the person sentenced to death certainly merited the penalty for having committed heinous crimes but, in this country, there are constitutional restraints against “cruel and inhuman punishment.”
But I digress.
The notion of a very public reminder that points up the criminality of an elected official entrusted with the public’s welfare – and tax dollars – seems like an attractive alternative to sending the rascal out of the public eye for a prolonged period of time. It’s policy now in Pennsylvania that when a state legislator is found guilty of a crime, his or her official portrait on display in the capitol will be tagged with a “plaque” disclosing the nature of their unlawful activity.
That’s a reasonable move but, after all, how many folks – even in the Keystone State – are inclined to go out of their way to visit Harrisburg and see those plaques?
No, I think we need a much grander vision here – something guaranteed to keep Sen. Squirmy or Mayor Mendacity out in the public eye so we don’t forget what drove them to the abyss.
Otherwise, we end up with Buddy Cianci, the twice-convicted former mayor of Providence, R.I., who did time in prison for corruption charges, declaring on his radio show that he’s running for office again. After all, we can’t count on Buddy to recount his former misdeeds.
So, I have a small suggestion. Nothing makes the heart of your typical politician beat faster than when they’re out there giving a speech – or a filibuster – right?
Well, we should take the next public official found to have taken a bribe, misused campaign funds, steered a contract to a favored firm, or whatever, put them on a bus, and make scheduled stops in key cities to deliver a rousing stump speech to their former constituents, outlining the history of their missteps and asking forgiveness.
In a sense, it’s sort of like campaigning. They should feel right in their element.
Of course, they may well be heckled or pelted with trash by the crowds who turn out for this public penance but I guess that’s better than a turn in the stocks, right?
Oh, I forgot to mention, they should be wearing an ankle bracelet that will be programmed to electronically record their speech and take photos at each “campaign” stop to be transmitted back to their probation officer.
Now I realize all of this will require enormous public expense but the politicians themselves should be forced to foot the bill. Speech might be free, but there should be a price to pay for abusing the public trust.
– Ron Leir
