NEW JERSEY — A New York Times investigation published Aug. 1 by Jordan Michael Smith examines New Jersey’s policy of detaining sex offenders in a secure treatment facility even after they have completed their prison sentences, a practice critics say violates civil liberties and fails to meet its stated rehabilitative goals.
New Jersey’s Special Treatment Unit, located on the grounds of a state prison in Avenel, was designed to keep the public safe from sex offenders deemed dangerous. Proponents say it prevents repeat offenses, but opponents argue it amounts to indefinite incarceration without the safeguards of due process.
Smith detailed the case of Russell Tinsley, who was convicted of car theft in New Jersey in 2008 after a long criminal history in other states, including rape and assault with a deadly weapon. After each prior conviction, in California and Pennsylvania, Tinsley served his time and was released.
When his two-year sentence in New Jersey ended in 2010, officials in the state attorney general’s office used a state law allowing for civil commitment — a legal procedure that involuntarily admits a person to a psychiatric facility — to keep him confined, even though he had never been convicted of a sex crime in New Jersey. Two doctors who had never interviewed him concluded he lacked the skills to function safely in the community and should be held in the Special Treatment Unit until rehabilitated.
Over the next 15 years, his treatment proceeded at what a judge described as a “glacial pace.” Doctors repeatedly failed to demonstrate that he had an uncontrollable “mental abnormality,” as the law requires. Tinsley, who turned 70 in March, remains in the facility. “I think they want to keep me here until I die,” he said.
Programs like New Jersey’s operate in 20 states, allowing for civil commitment of certain sex offenders after they serve their criminal sentences. The practice began in response to high-profile crimes committed by offenders after release. Supporters say it is necessary to protect the public. Legal critics say it undermines constitutional rights, pointing to due process concerns, lack of transparency, and the absence of jury trials in New Jersey’s system.
Bradford Bury, a retired New Jersey State Superior Court judge who oversaw the program, called it inconsistent and unfair. “We let people who intentionally murder a child out on parole,” he said. “There’s a total inconsistency of the application of the rules, common sense and fairness.” He estimated that one in three of the nearly 400 residents could be released without harm to the community.
Since the program began in 1999, 750 people have been committed. Just 57 have been fully discharged, and nine have been confined since its opening. The state has conditionally released 253 people under strict supervision, but they can be returned to custody at any time, even for minor infractions. One man was sent back in 2020 for smoking marijuana and has been held ever since.
Records show detainees are nearly twice as likely to die in custody as to be fully released, leading residents to call it the “pine box program.”
Racial disparities are also stark. A 2020 UCLA study found Black people were five times more likely than white people to be held in New Jersey’s program, the highest disparity among similar programs nationwide. Researchers attribute the gap in part to biases in assessing perceived dangerousness.
The Times investigation also recounted the case of Rodney Roberts, wrongfully imprisoned for a rape he did not commit. Roberts, convicted only of kidnapping after pleading guilty on his public defender’s advice, was set to be released in 2004 when the attorney general’s office sought his civil commitment. A doctor determined he had no particular urge to commit sexual assault but recommended commitment anyway, citing “arrogance” and refusal to accept responsibility. Roberts spent 10 years in the unit before DNA evidence exonerated him in 2014. His lawsuit against the state remains unresolved more than a decade later.
In 2023, the New Jersey chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union filed papers arguing that the statute’s use of the term “highly likely to reoffend” is constitutionally void because it lacks any measurable or replicable definition.
Treatment inside the facility has been criticized as sporadic, unvalidated, and ineffective. Some employees classified as “psychologists” did not meet state licensure requirements, and many had no prior experience working with offenders. Former staff psychiatrist Dr. Vivian Shnaidman described the program as something “somebody made up,” with no research basis. Heather Ellis Cucolo, an adjunct professor at New York Law School and former public defender, said treatment is sometimes used to justify prolonged confinement rather than to reduce risk.
Conditions inside the Special Treatment Unit have included rodent and insect infestations, heating and air-conditioning failures, and arbitrary strip searches. In December 2024, a guard pleaded guilty to aggravated assault after beating a resident who died of a stroke days later.
Some residents have resigned themselves to never leaving. “It’s a never-ending situation,” said resident Najeev Mohammed, who has been confined for 19 years. “It just keeps going, going, going, going — that’s it, until you become like a mummy.”
A spokesperson for the New Jersey Corrections Department said the agency was “committed to the safety, dignity and rehabilitation of all incarcerated individuals,” including residents of the Special Treatment Unit. The state attorney general’s office declined to comment.
Cynthia Calkins, a John Jay College of Criminal Justice psychologist who has studied the unit, questioned its value. “We spend a lot of resources,” she said, “and the overall benefit appears to be very small.”
