Date: Fri 27-Mar-1998
Date: Fri 27-Mar-1998
Publication: Bee
Author: CURT
Quick Words:
Powell-drunk-driving-Varese
Full Text:
(COMMENTARY) Drunken Driving Issue Goes Beyond Blood-Alcohol Limit
By Chris Powell
Bridgeport police say state Rep William J. Varese twice crashed into parked
cars as he drove away from a nudie bar in Bridgeport a few weeks ago. So
Varese, a Republican from Monroe, has become the poster child for legislation
that would reduce Connecticut's blood-alcohol limit for drunken driving,
especially since he had been loudly opposing the bill just days earlier.
But the Varese case is instead more evidence that the bill is only more of the
cynical demagoguery of politicians who love to exploit the drunken-driving
issue.
If the police account of the Varese incident is true -- and he has more or
less admitted it -- reducing the blood-alcohol limit, now 0.10, to 0.08 as
proposed would have had no application whatever. For Varese's blood-alcohol
tested at 0.167, far over the current limit. And while such a high level and
his smashing his car around the parking lot made him easy to arrest, Varese
will not be prosecuted or punished under the law as it stands and, more
important, would not be prosecuted or punished even under the law as it would
be amended.
For Varese is a first offender. This does not necessarily mean someone who has
driven drunk for the first time but, rather, someone who has been caught for
the first time. And while drunken drivers are rarely caught the first time
they drive drunk, first offenders are ensured admission to Connecticut's
"alcohol-education program," which prevents prosecution.
For a $450 fee and a 90-day driver's license suspension, the program politely
lectures people that they shouldn't drive drunk -- as if the criminal law
itself should not be enough of a lecture to begin with, and as if the criminal
law itself is not enough of a lecture for all other offenses. (For some reason
Connecticut has yet to establish an "education" program for murderers,
rapists, robbers, or any other sort of offenders.) Then the alcohol-education
program puts drunken drivers right back on the road, keeping them out of jail
and especially out of court.
Why is Connecticut so lenient with drunken drivers, and why would the state
remain so lenient regardless of any reduction of the blood-alcohol limit? Why
has even a group as sincere as Mothers Against Drunk Driving been distracted
by the blood-alcohol level reduction bill?
Because prosecuting drunken driving -- treating it not so much as a serious
criminal offense but as an ordinary criminal offense -- would require
appropriating money for thousands of trials and would require plea-bargaining
thousands of drunken driving charges, just as most other criminal charges are
plea-bargained.
How many more trials and plea bargains? The alcohol-education program diverts
about 15,000 drunken driving cases from Connecticut's courts each year. The
courts, which long have been on the verge of breakdown, now hold only about
250 criminal trials and 3,000 civil trials each year.
That is, the ordinary criminalization of drunken driving, rather than just
ranting about it, might destroy what remains of Connecticut's criminal-justice
system.
This is the reality of the drunken driving problem, but it never figures in
the discussion, for the reality raises difficult questions, questions not
answered by the simplistic thundering of legislators like state Sen Edith
Prague, the leading advocate of the bill reducing the blood-alcohol level, who
long has posed as the General Assembly's leading opponent of drunken driving.
Prague, a Democrat from Columbia, demanded that Varese, a member of the
General Assembly's Judiciary Committee, abstain from voting on the
blood-alcohol limit bill the other day because of his arrest. (He did abstain,
but gave a different reason.) Indeed, because of his disgraceful conduct
Varese probably should resign from the legislature. But Prague's indignation
about Varese was selective and opportunistic.
While Prague wanted Varese out of her way on the committee that had
jurisdiction over her bill, she has had no criticism of state Rep Kevin Ryan,
D-Montville, a member of her own party from her own district who just a few
weeks before Varese was arrested was convicted for his second drunken driving
offense. Unlike Varese, Ryan wasn't eligible for the alcohol-education
program, having used it already to avoid prosecution for driving drunk in
1988. In court in February Ryan was fined $1,000 and sentenced to 250 hours of
community service, and his driver's license was suspended for a year.
As a repeat offender, Ryan is more of disgrace to the legislature than Varese.
But as a fellow Democrat who has not been in the way of her bill on the
Judiciary Committee, Ryan gets a pass from Prague.
Because of the Varese case, opponents of reducing the blood-alcohol limit may
be intimidated into silent consent, and Prague's legislation may pass.
But the real issue with drunken driving isn't the blood-alcohol level but
whether and how much to increase prosecution and penalties for first
offenders. The law as it stands for first offenders -- a $450 fee for the
education program and a 90-day license suspension -- is a calculation that
more severe penalties would induce more drunken drivers to demand trials and
plea bargains than the state wants to appropriate for.
Should the education program be repealed and first offenders be prosecuted?
Should the program's fee be raised and its license suspension lengthened
beyond 90 days? How many more trials and how much more plea bargaining would
this produce? How much more should be appropriated for the courts so drunken
driving is treated seriously?
Reducing the blood-alcohol level has no bearing on these questions; it will
mean only a few more admissions to the education program, and it will leave
drunken drivers secure in the knowledge that they can drive drunk all they
want until they get caught the first time and never have to suffer more than a
$450 fee and a 90-day license suspension. But reducing the blood-alcohol level
will let Prague and a few other politicians keep avoiding the tough questions
of serious policy while remaining safely on both sides of the issue: tough on
drunken drivers in theory and lenient on them in practice.
(Chris Powell is managing editor of the Journal Inquirer in Manchester.)
