News & Commentary

“You’re on the list.”It took a few seconds for Chalana McFarland to grasp what was happening. Her name was one of just a few on the list of people who would be released from prison early due to COVID-19. Behind her stood a line of dozens of other women waiting to see if they made it. Only some of them had. But as Chalana received the news, they started cheering, and caused such an uproar that the correctional staff had to reprimand them. That’s when it finally clicked for Chalana — after 15 years in prison, she was finally going home. Chalana immediately contacted her daughter.“I was watching a movie with my roommate when I got the news,” says Nia, who is 19 and lives in Tallahassee, Florida, where she attends university. “At first I was like, ‘What?’ I didn’t think it was real. Then I just fell over crying. I couldn’t even talk. Later, when we talked on the phone, I could hear the happiness in my mom’s voice that this was all finally going to be over.”

These critical reforms are more urgent than ever, but they were needed long before the pandemic. The U.S. incarcerates more people than any other country on earth, with four percent of the world’s total population and 21 percent of the world’s incarcerated population.

Cannabis decriminalization and legalization is still the answer to America's failed war on drugs, and its especially negative impacts on Black and brown communities. But that isn’t enough.

As millions of people in the U.S. shelter in their homes, and millions more who aren’t able to stay indoors practice social distancing or other measures to reduce the spread of COVID-19, a crisis is brewing in the facilities where immigrants are detained. Cramped conditions and inadequate access to hygiene or medical care have created what one medical expert called a “tinderbox” for the disease in a letter to Congress.

The spirit of the youth protest that peaked during Kent State and Watergate, and was marked by the Vietnam War and the resignation of Nixon, is as alive and evident as ever today.

A well-designed tool could offer public health benefit, but a poorly designed one could pose unnecessary and significant risks to privacy, civil rights, and civil liberties.

As many Americans round out the end of their first month of social distancing, it’s clear that the toll of “stay at home” orders during the COVID-19 pandemic is much more than economic. The anxiety and fear that wash over us each day that we spend alone, away from friends, coworkers, and family, inflict their own kind of emotional damage.  The cost of social isolation is a worthy cost in this case — staying home can quite literally save lives. But for some people, the advent of social isolation came long before the coronavirus. At the ACLU, we work with many communities who deal with the long-term impacts of social isolation: people living with disabilities who often experience accessibility issues, people held in detention, and people imprisoned in solitary confinement, just to name a few. Joining us on this episode of our podcast, At Liberty, is Dr. Julianne Holt-Lunstad, a professor of psychology and neuroscience at Brigham Young University who understands the psychological and physiological impacts of isolation, and how we can mitigate them for both ourselves and others. We also spoke with a few people — Anna Landre, TreShaun Pate, Jason Hernandez and Claire Goldberg — who know a thing or two about social distancing. Their circumstances have made them familiar with isolation long before COVID-19. Listen here to learn from their experiences, and for tips from Dr. Holt-Lunstad on how to ease the pain of isolation during this pandemic. 

350 incarcerated persons and almost 200 Bureau of Prison staff have COVID-19. The wardens overseeing America's 122 federal prisons have no time to spare.

Trans people and LGBTQ people of color are disproportionately impacted by our criminal justice system. These experiences are not comparable to social isolation.