Can the design of the Jackson County Detention Center help decrease local crime?

By Kathy Feist

On January 30th, the final beam was hoisted onto the newly constructed Jackson County Detention Center located off Hwy 40 and I-435. It will be June of next year before inmates step into the new facility. And when they do, it won’t be the long gray corridors and cells that they’ve grown accustomed to. Instead, they will see painted walls awash with sunlight, artistic murals and acoustic wall panels. Such is the more humane design for today’s detention centers as championed by a group of architects who belong to the Academy of Architecture for Justice, a subgroup of the American Institute of Architects. 

Justice architecture began in 1974 as a government and AIA task force. What it reported then would begin the movement toward a more humane design.  “The confinement of man in barred cages for detention is not correctional and no longer considered humane or within the framework of human dignity,” the group reported. They pushed for a future with “unobtrusive security” and “normalized housing.”

Today the AJA consists of 2300 members who, with an eye to the future, look beyond a more humane environment to one that can reduce recidivism (re-entry) and inmate population. 

Jackson County contracted with DLR Group, one of the top justice architecture firms in the nation, for the design of the new detention center.

 The Telegraph interviewed architect Gary Retel, DLR’s lead designer on the Jackson County Detention Center, on what could be expected in the design of the new jail and the role design plays in the rehabilitation of inmates. 

“The projects I’ve been working on in the last 15 years, such as the Jackson County Detention Center, are not about locking people up,” says Retel. “They’re about trying to get people better.” 

It may come as no surprise, then, that today’s detention center may in some places resemble a residential treatment facility. 

Hubs

The Jackson County Detention Center will have 276 cells and hold over 1000 inmates, about 200 more than the current jail holds.  

The building is purposely designed to look more like a government building than a foreboding lock-up facility. The front of the building houses administration, courts and intake. The back half holds the inmate population along with office space, a kitchen, laundry, storage, and medical areas. 

Incoming offenders will be booked, evaluated and assigned to housing units for maximum or minimum security or special needs (acute care). Their first 10 days will be spent in orientation housing. 

Depending on the evaluation, he or she will be placed in a cell with one or three other inmates. (In some cases, they may have a cell to themselves.) 

The design that differentiates this facility from past ones is a hub system. Rather than rows of cells along long corridors, the housing units are divided into hubs of 64 beds (32 cells). 

In each hub, the cells open up to a spacious day room filled with natural light, art and furniture that relate to nature. Jackson County has chosen a blue, white and grey color palette to create a calm environment. 

“Jackson County is a very good client,” says Retel. “They’re very progressive and they’re committed to promoting evidence-based design.”

 Colorful patterned acoustic wall panels and ceiling tiles decrease the sometimes deafening sound. “Acoustics are so important and so overlooked,” says Retel. “When you go into an old jail, it’ll drive you crazy. The acoustics are so bad.” 

In the day room, inmates can mingle, watch television, grab a beverage, dine, and access video visitation. The multi-purpose area also has access to showers, outdoor recreation area, classrooms and a medical treatment room.

At night, Jackson County inmates will have bunkless beds in their cells to call their own. 

Direct Supervision

The multi-purpose day room will be monitored by an officer, but most likely not in the way you might think.

 “Jackson County is a direct supervision jail, which is quite a big concept,” explains Retel. “Correctional officers have been used to standing in the security box and looking at the inmates through security [windows] or bars. But now they’re in the room with the inmates. What happens is the officer sort of owns the space.”

The advantage of this new concept is that the officer can deter behavior, thereby decreasing abuse, altercations and contraband. 

“There’s quite a bit of victimization that occurs between residents,” says Retel. “An officer being in the space is reassuring for many.”

It also makes for a friendlier environment. 

“They get to know the occupants,” says Retel. “They sense the pulse of the environment. They can feel if there’s something wrong with somebody.”

The specialty trained officers, who do not carry weapons, are backed by monitored cameras. 

Evidence has shown that direct supervision has decreased violence when officers are trained well and inmates are classified correctly. 

Health Clinic

Within the center of the compound is the Medical Clinic. While clinicians can visit inmates in treatment rooms at their hubs, the clinic treats more acute cases. It also provides mental health, dentistry, radiology, telemedicine and tele-psychiatry treatment.

A Medical Housing hub houses 64 inmates who are elderly or experiencing chronic medical conditions. 

Finally, a 64-bed hub for Special Needs provides services to inmates with acute and severe mental illness. 

Courtroom

Much of Jackson County’s design is based on decreasing transportation of the inmate. No one has to go too far for outdoor recreation, health care, or even to appear before a judge.

Appearing before a judge usually involves being transported to another part of town. Having a court system inside the detention center streamlines the system and decreases overcrowding, according to Retel.

“It’s very efficient versus driving somebody or a busload of people to a courthouse,” he says. “You can do it all under one roof.”

Built on the second floor of the Jackson County Detention Center are two court rooms. 

A smaller one is for arraignments, where the person is charged with a crime. Because of its proximity, the defendant can go from the intake center on the first floor where he is booked, to his arraignment before the judge on the second floor, where he is charged for a crime. 

“By getting in front of the judge quickly, the judge can assess the situation.  They can do other programs that divert them out of jail, depending upon the charge in the circumstances,” he says. “There is the ability to have diversionary programs occur at that first initial line.”

The other court room is full sized with a judge’s quarters,  jury box, and seating for 50 spectators. Here the defendant is tried for his or her crime. 

The Future

Statistics show that about half of the inmates in the U.S. jail system are dealing with mental health issues. About 63 percent have a substance abuse problem. (In Missouri, that’s 88 percent.)  

“If there is an underlying issue, and you don’t treat it, the offender just recidivates,” he says. About 82 percent of those arrested return to jail within a decade. 

Justice architects are now leaning toward onsite deflection centers to address the issue. 

“We have one client north of Phoenix that had a big problem in their county of homelessness and drugs. They felt their jail was like a revolving door,” he says. “What they implemented was a deflection center–a 12-bed behavioral health treatment facility directly next to the jail.”

Retel explains that this allows a police officer to take someone who might not be committing a crime, but perhaps is creating a disturbance, to the deflection center for analysis and treatment.   The Jackson County Detention Center has a 16-bed Behavioral Health Center, under the Special Needs housing. But it is not a deflection center. 

“Deflection is a big thing that’s coming up in justice,” he says. “A judge can make a determination to divert you from jail. But deflection is to keep you out of jail.”

Moving the needle

When Retel first began his career as an architect during the Ronald Reagan era, there was an influx of inmates and jail construction due to the ongoing war on drugs. Jails were crowded and racial disparity was rampant. Retel became fascinated with justice architecture. “I felt the people who were working in this realm of justice architecture, were trying to make a difference even back then. They move the needle a bit,” he says.

Retel acknowledges there are critics. But in his realm, he’s seen the difference first hand.

“I recommend to anybody to go to a jail,” he challenges. “There are terrible jails. And then there are terribly good jails. If you go to a jail that’s working right, then you see people there that love their work. They feel like they are making a difference helping people. I think that it’s really important that as architects, we help with that.”