Keeping Competence Out of Politics

Last week, in a move which astounded even members of his own party, Governor Volpe announced hat he would not reappoint George McGrath as Commissioner of Correction, despite Volpe's statements on at least six occasions that McGrath had done a good job. With rare unanimity, the virtually, every newspaper, prison superintendent, and penologist in and out of Massachusetts.

But Volpe stood firm, and once again Massachusetts has become a cynosure of ridicule. The reasons for Volpe's irresponsible action, and even worse, the results, bode poorly for Massachusetts.

During his first term in office, Governor Volpe purportedly turned his attention to the state's county correctional system. Tainted with scandal, inefficient, poorly staffed, costly beyond belief, the county penal institutions had the hard-earned distinction of being one of the most embarrassing aspects of Massachusetts. In what was thought to be a genuine attempt to correct this situation, Governor Volpe convened a special commission consisting of eleven of the most respected men in the Commonwealth to study the county system of correction.

Wading through the unbelievable morass that is county politics in Massachusetts, this commission concluded that the county houses of correction should be turned over to the well-developed state corrections system, run by Commissioner McGrath.

After the commission's report was issued, McGrath actively and vociferously supported the change, thus earning the hatred of virtually every sheriff in Massachusetts. The reason for the sheriffs' concern is clear: the awarding of supply contracts, together with the patronage in the non-civil service county houses of correction, is of enormous importance. In state where sheriffs exercise great power over the county political organizations, angering a sheriff is fatal.

McGrath's replacement is, like McGrath, a Democrat, and in this lies the subtle insidiousness of Volpe's action. Volpe has evidently bowed not to the spoils system, but to the organized power of politicians of both parties--the sheriffs--whose main function, with some exception, has been squeezing their discredited county houses of correction for every cent available. Volpe has firmly established that the sheriffs of the Commonwealh tell the governor what to do.

In a state where deals, corruption and inefficiency have recurred with a monotonous regularity, the Department of Correction has been a refreshing oasis, presided over by a tough, scrappy, honest, and superbly competent commissioner. McGrath has continued to push the Correction Department into a position of national renown.

From his fourteen years as the chief investigator for the delinquency research team of Eleanor and Sheldon Glueck of the Harvard Law School, to his career at Boston College Law School (first in his class, assistant dean, and assistant professor), to his years as executive secretary of the Massachusetts Board of Bar Examiners, McGrath had acquired a broad background before he became commissioner in 1959.

Within weeks after assuming office, he initiated the "New England Corrections Compact," a revolutionary idea which has saved money for the state and disappointment for its prisoners. Under this and compact, the first such program in any state, prisoners may be transferred from the institutions of one state to the institutions of another, thus facilitating visiting privileges, and also enabling each inmate to be placed in the type of institution best suited to him. Massachusetts inmates may thus be sent to Vermont's highly developed youth offender training center, while Vermont, for example, can send retarded criminals to the Massachusetts Corrections Institution at Bridgewater, which houses the only facility for mentally retarded criminals in New England.

The budget of the Department of Correction is notoriously small, but McGrath has build programs as if such impediments didn't exist. When the state wouldn't give him enough money for psychiatrists, he and his staff borrowed highly qualified staff members from the Law-Medicine Institute of Boston University. Furthemore, skilled medical doctors about to become licensed psychiatrists may now fulfill their internship requirements in state penal institutions providing valuable experience for them and skilled assistance for the inmates.

When McGrath first became commissioner, the custodial staffs of the state institutions regarded the psychiatrists from the Division of Legal Medicine as downright harmful intrusions into the custodial system; the "headshrinkers" reciprocated the lack of respect with comments about the "unfeeling" guards. So bitter was the feeling that McGrath's first speech as commissioner--to a group of correctional officers 48 hours after he assumed office--expressing a hope for good relations with the Division of Legal Medicine was greeted with a hostile and icy silence by his audience.

The unmistakable clan which now exists among the custodial officers on several levels, the pride with which they talk about the work in the institutions, and the astounding cooperation between every brand of government and the Department of Correction are all directly attributable to McGrath.

Besides his methods and his staff, McGrath has contributed a myriad of improvements to Massachusetts of a more tangible nature--new positions, new facilities, new training programs, and new legislation; single spaced, the list of these contributions runs six and a half pages.

This is the man who was fired by John Volpe. Sheldon Glueck, Roscoe Pound Professor of Law, Emeritus, says "McGrath would serve with distinction in almost any post, federal or state, having to do with almost any aspect of criminal justice."

From I'Affaire McGrath will proceed several severe setbacks to the Department of Correction.

* First, the Commissioner may well become a rubber-stamp for the county organizations, the governor, the parole board (one of whose members was instrumental in lobbying for the appointment of McGrath's successor). McGrath is a fighter, and he fought pressure from all sides, such as industries' complaining about competition from prison training programs, to get what he needed.

* Second, the first intrusion of politics into the Department of Correction in 15 years will, in the words of one state official with several correction employees under his authority, "unquestionably hurt morale." It took many years for McGrath to build morale in the Department, and John Volpe had no right to jeopardize this.

* Third, the exemplary working relations between the Department of Correction and the resources of the state--government agencies, universities, and industry--are in serious jeopardy. McGrath was widely respected. The new commissioner is coming in under a cloud, and it remains to be seen what type of cooperation outside sources will offer him.

* Fourth, the Department of Correction has lost a man, only 40 years old, whose very presence gave stature to at least one corner of Massachusetts government, and stature is a commodity that the Commonwealth needs more of.

* Fifth, and most distressing, is the future of the carefully acquired staff of the Department. All over the country, criminology is becoming more respectable and common in college curricula; more and more college-trained people are entering the field, but after last week, if they have any great ambitions, they would have to be naive to come to Massachusetts.

A very high correction official said bitterly, "This is a perfect example of why more college-trained people don't go into government. Politicians just won't leave them alone."

Fortunately McGrath has left a substantial heritage and qualified staff behind him. The question is how far they'll be allowed to go, now that a political specter has been resurrected in the Department of Correction by Volpe.

After trampling so crudely over one of the state's most dedicated administrators and one of the only sources of state pride, Volpe bears careful watching indeed. After considerable criticism form the press about the firing of McGrath, Volpe issued a statement on Wednesday by way of excuse. After predictibly denying that there had been a "purge," Volpe justified the action against McGrath and another official thus: "They did not have life tenure."

Then, after insisting that the governor is responsible to the public for his appointments, Volpe declared in a whirlwind burst of contradiction, "I see nothing to be gained and much to be deplored by a public discussion of the relative merits of the candidates." Ironically, Volpe's original statement, in toto, given last week as his reason for firing McGrath might loom as a campaign slogan in 1966: "It's time for a change."