Trauma Before Bars

They say systems are built to reflect what we value. If that’s true, then what does it say that we’ve perfected the machinery to punish pain—but rarely invest in preventing it?

I know this firsthand. I’ve lived inside the criminal justice systems that handle people only after the damage is done—systems that are quick to judge, slow to heal, and allergic to introspection.

I’ve spent decades inside those walls and walking beside those who survived them. And again and again, I saw one truth: most people didn’t fall—they were pushed. Pushed by trauma, neglect, abuse, poverty, racism, and the absence of anyone to say, “Let me help before this becomes something else.”

They weren’t broken by the system. They arrived already carrying pain that no one took the time to understand.

Every now and then, we pretend to get serious about reform. We tinker with policies, rewrite laws, reduce sentences. But we rarely ask the question that might actually change the game:

“What happened to you?”

That’s the question we built CODA’s PTSD+ME initiative on. Not “What did you do?” or “How long were you in?” but what happened in your life before that moment—the moment they labeled you a criminal.

We launched a trauma-focused questionnaire asking people with incarceration experience about their lives prior to their involvement with the justice system. What we found was not surprising to me—but it was staggering in its clarity:

• 97% of respondents experienced trauma before incarceration.

  
  

• 89% said that trauma played a role in how they ended up in the system.

  
  

When nearly everyone’s journey into incarceration starts with pain, It makes you start wondering: what if we responded to that pain earlier?

Our current system is built around one assumption: reactive care. We invest in trauma treatment after the damage has been done, but rarely—if ever—before it all spirals. The sad irony? It’s not just morally wrong. It’s economically backward.

Let’s talk dollars... 

I, myself, was a million-dollar prisoner. And I don’t say that for effect. It’s simple math. Between my 22 years of incarceration, the cost of solitary confinement (which alone can cost $75,000 or more per year), legal expenses, and state resources tied to my name—I’ve cost the taxpayers well over a million dollars. And do you know what none of that included? Therapy. Healing. Counseling. Not a single trauma-informed conversation to help me unpack the pain that preceded my crime.

We spend hundreds of thousands of dollars per person to confine, but not to heal. And that is the definition of waste.

Now imagine this: what if each incarcerated person had access to a licensed trauma therapist? Even at an average of $100 per session, once a week, that’s about $5,200 a year per person. With over 1.9 million people incarcerated across the United States, that’s roughly $9.88 billion annually to provide weekly therapy to every incarcerated individual.

The cost to incarcerate is astronomical and includes little to no healing. 

One model builds people up. The other simply holds them down, expensively. I think its obvious to state at this point, the model has lasted this long because it pays... It pays many corporations hundreds of millions to continue this style of corrections because, well, its lucrative. Yet the funny thing is, shifting the services to now include healing would actually provide the same lucrative measures for the industry. Yet, in 2025, with our health conscious society we still don't invest in healing for the incarcerated... For our very own communities...

So, sadly it appears its more about simple complacency for antiquated systems.

We'll continue on with warehousing pain, layering on more trauma, and then expect people to reenter society ready to contribute.

If that sounds like a broken business model—it’s because it is.

Prevention Is the Real Reform

If we really want safer communities, lower recidivism rates, and healthier citizens, we must invest in preventing trauma and providing meaningful mental health care before crisis leads to incarceration.

The research backs it. A 2019 study published in The American Journal of Public Health found that trauma-informed correctional care significantly reduced rates of disciplinary infractions and improved behavioral health outcomes among incarcerated individuals. The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) continues to advocate for trauma-informed approaches in all systems of care, noting their effectiveness in reducing adverse outcomes and enhancing long-term recovery.

CODA’s PTSD+ME questionnaire also confirms this need. Among those surveyed:

• Only 19% had received any form of counseling or therapy prior to incarceration.

  
  

• Over 60% stated they had no access to trauma recovery services during incarceration.

  
  

• More than half said they were never even offered such support.

  
  

That’s not just a gap in service—it’s a catastrophic failure of basic human care.

When trauma is ignored, it festers. And untreated trauma doesn’t just affect the individual—it spills into families, schools, workplaces, and neighborhoods. Incarceration becomes the final stop in a series of missed opportunities.

Imagine the shift if schools, youth organizations, foster care systems, and probation departments were equipped with trauma-informed professionals trained to intervene early. Imagine if we normalized mental health care the way we normalize discipline and control. If we embraced accountability with dignity instead of punishment with shame.

And what if we went even further—what if we provided incentives within the system for healing? Imagine correctional facilities where completing therapy, mentoring others, or engaging in restorative circles actually mattered—not just morally, but procedurally, in terms of sentence adjustments, educational opportunities, or reentry placement.

We must stop waiting for people to collapse before we care. Trauma-informed prevention isn’t a luxury—it’s a necessity. The trauma-to-prison pipeline is real. If we fail to address it now, we ensure that the next generation walks the same path, one step behind us.

A landmark study from Harvard’s Kennedy School found that trauma exposure—particularly childhood trauma—is a stronger predictor of future criminal justice involvement than any single behavioral factor. The National Child Traumatic Stress Network confirms that youth with multiple Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) are far more likely to be suspended from school, arrested, or incarcerated.

In fact, youth with an ACE score of 4 or more are 12 times more likely to attempt suicide and 5 times more likely to become involved in the juvenile justice system.

And, again, the PTSD+ME questionnaire found that 97% of incarcerated individuals had experienced trauma before their incarceration... And 89% believed it directly contributed to their justice system involvement. That’s not a coincidence—it’s a pattern. A pattern rooted in pain, ignored by policy, and passed down generationally.

We know trauma-informed care reduces recidivism. We know restorative justice practices foster accountability and community healing. We know access to mental health support during incarceration improves reentry success and reduces repeat offenses.

So why aren’t we investing in it? The only thing missing is the political will—and the societal courage—to move from punishment to prevention.

If we redirected even a fraction of our $80+ billion annual incarceration budget toward trauma recovery, community-based counseling, school-based mental health programs, and family healing resources—we would see measurable reductions in crime, incarceration, and generational harm.

Look to the Missouri Model of juvenile justice reform, where trauma-informed care, family involvement, and smaller treatment-focused facilities led to one of the lowest recidivism rates in the country—less than 10%. Or the Vera Institute's work in North Dakota and Oregon, where implementing therapeutic, relationship-centered practices significantly improved outcomes across correctional systems.

We can’t continue to act surprised when trauma reproduces more trauma.

We’ve studied it. We’ve measured it. Now we must fund and implement solutions that address it.

To support the PTSD+ME program or get involved reach out to coda here: www.codamich.com/contact-us

Stay informed,

-Troy Rienstra