The True Cost of Raising Revenue Through Tennessee’s Criminal Courts

Laila is 29 years old and has an intellectual disability. She becomes easily confused when confronted by people she does not know. One day in 2013, a Nashville police officer allegedly found Laila “wandering back and forth aimlessly in the area of the [Kroger] gas pumps. … She could not answer as to why she was at the location.” Laila was unable to explain that she was trying to find the bus stop, and the police officer arrested her. The district attorney prosecuted her for criminal trespassing. Unable to afford bail, Laila spent four days detained in the Davidson County Jail before seeing a judge. On the day she appeared in court, she pled guilty to her first and only criminal charge and was sentenced to nine days in jail.

As a result of this single encounter with the criminal justice system, Laila was assessed $539.65 in jail fees, court costs and taxes. But, none of these costs were part of her punishment; rather, their purposes were to raise revenue and recoup the government’s cost of arresting and prosecuting her. What Laila must pay includes a $15 fee for setting up a payment plan and a $15.65 late tax fee. These fees only apply to her because she could not afford to immediately pay the entire amount she owed with her monthly disability income of $733. Laila was unable to keep up with her payment plan on this limited income and has yet to pay off her debt.

An even harsher financial impact is seen in the case of Miller, a 58-year-old veteran. He was hoping for that proverbial second chance after serving his sentence in a Tennessee state prison. However, immediately after his release, he was shocked to learn that he owed the state and county government $16,500. Only $2,000 of that amount was the fine the court assessed as part of his sentence; the other 90 percent was meant to repay the state the cost of processing him through its criminal system and to raise revenue for it. Unable to find employment despite applying to numerous jobs after his release from prison, Miller is struggling to find ways to pay his debt.

The debts of Laila and Miller reflect a stark reality for the majority of people that Tennessee processes through its criminal system.[1] Approximately 75 percent of people prosecuted for a crime in the state are indigent and thus unlikely to be able to pay off their debt.[2] Criminal justice debt imposes even harsher repercussions than civil debt. In Tennessee, criminal justice debt can lead to arrest warrants and incarceration, extension of parole or probation, and the automatic revocation of a driver’s license. Until this debt is paid in full, it also damages credit scores and prevents a person from restoring his or her right to vote.

When the State of Tennessee charges a person with a crime, it triggers a complicated, ad hoc system of financial obligations. Scattered throughout the Tennessee Code, these obligations have various names and, as defined below, are best explained by their purposes.[3]

Tennessee’s Four Main Types of Financial Obligations in Criminal Cases

• Fees or costs are levied with the purpose of “reimbursing” the state or county for services provided. For example, $222 of Laila’s debt is a result of a $44 per day pre-trial detention jail fee intended to reimburse the county for housing Laila because she could not afford bail.
• Taxes or surcharges are used for predesignated purposes or deposited into the general fund. For example, Laila was charged a $2 county tax intended to fund victim-offender mediation centers.
• Fines are punitive and imposed as a monetary penalty for committing an offense.
• Restitution is a court-ordered payment intended to compensate a crime victim for the losses suffered as a result of the crime.[4]

While fines and restitution are part of a defendant’s sentence, court costs and taxes differ because they are explicitly created by the legislature to raise revenue or recoup costs.[5] Governments’ use of financial obligations to punish is a centuries-old concept,[6] but their imposition of additional fees and taxes as part of criminal convictions to support county or state-level operations is a recent phenomenon.[7]

In theory, shifting the cost of criminal justice processing from the general public to the offender makes sense because the costs directly support the criminal court system and its users (i.e., offenders) directly “benefit” from its services. However, these levies are often substitutes to avoid taxing the general public at large. Many of the additional costs are used to raise general revenue or fund non-criminal-justice-related governmental functions. As one governmental agency consultant explained, “It’s very easy for jurisdictions to pass [these] cost[s] on to the offender. … No one wants to raise taxes on the public. Politicians — it’s the last thing they want to do.”[8] For example, Tennessee’s $29.50 criminal litigation tax, which applies to “all criminal charges,” has raised almost $9 million annually for the past few years.[9] Each year, almost one-third of that revenue goes to the state’s general fund while the remaining amount helps fund the Department of Education, the Department of Safety, the State Court Clerk’s Conference, local governments, and other specific initiatives.[10] Financial levies that fund non-criminal-justice-related governmental functions occur at the county level as well. In 2014, Davidson County’s 2015 projected budget estimated that a million dollars in general revenue would flow from $40 arrest fees, $44 jail fees, and a variety of fines; these levies had raised more than $1 million in 2014.[11]

Since 2005, the legislature has increased, added, or authorized 65 different fees and taxes.[12] Sixty-one of these levies apply to criminal cases, but only 33 apply to civil cases.[13] As of January 2017, excluding criminal fines, Tennessee had at least 245 separate court fees and taxes scattered throughout its statutory code.[14] While some legislators are concerned about the proliferation of these fees and taxes,[15] the legislature generally adds or increases them without much thought or deliberation. For example, the 2012 Tennessee General Assembly created a Judicial Commissioner Continuing Education Account by passing a $2 increase in litigation tax on criminal charges instituted in general sessions court in counties served by a judicial commissioner.[16] The bill moved through the House and Senate without any discussion of what impact the fee increase would have on defendants or what other criminal justice fees and/or taxes might be passed that session.[17] By the end of that legislative session, in various parts of the Tennessee Code, the legislature had also added: a $1 increase to the victim notification litigation tax, a $300 increase to the diversion program, and a new $350 fee for expungement, more than half of which was slated to finance the state’s general fund.[18]

Each individual fee or tax may seem justified in isolation. Yet, these assessments operate in the aggregate and start accumulating from the pre-trial stage continuing on until after release from incarceration. One Tennessee clerk described the prevailing attitude toward imposing these fees as “not a tax [on everyone] but only a fee on people charged with [or convicted of] crimes.”[19]

While Tennessee has been able to recoup some costs and raise some revenue from imposing levies at each stage of the criminal process, the social, economic and political costs to people like Laila and Miller are high. The state’s utilization of people in the criminal system to fund courts and state budgets not only ties successful re-entry back to society to wealth rather than rehabilitation, but it also engenders a system that creates revenue for the greater public good at the expense of poor, minority populations. People of color, like Laila and Miller, are hit hardest by this debt and its repercussions. Black residents in Tennessee are 4.5 times more likely to be arrested than Whites,[20] a rate that is significantly higher than that of other states in the Southeast including Georgia (3.8 times more likely), Alabama (3.1 times) and Mississippi (2.7 times).[21] Black residents of Tennessee are also incarcerated at 3.7 times the rate of White residents.[22] Furthermore, the median household income of Black families is the lowest in the state; Black households make almost $10,000 less than White households and almost $20,000 less than Asian households.[23] Black individuals in Tennessee also experience the highest rate of unemployment among other races, with a rate that is several times higher than Whites.[24] As a result, Black residents are, on average, more likely to be arrested and incarcerated and less likely to be able to weather the resulting financial strain. Owing this type of debt in Tennessee leads to several debilitating consequences.[25]

The Vicious Cycle of Incarceration and Debt

The sheer amount of criminal justice debt imposed, coupled with Tennessee’s statutory scheme for collection, creates a cycle of debt that is difficult to escape. Tennessee law requires that any payments made toward court debt must be applied to litigation taxes first, costs second, and fines last.[26] In other words, by statute, revenue generation is prioritized, followed by recoupment, and lastly offender punishment. Statutorily requiring people to pay off their fines last forces people on probation and parole to stay in the criminal system longer because most make incremental payments, and payment of criminal justice debt is often, if not always, a condition of completing probation or parole.[27]

Additionally, the inability of low-income persons to pay criminal justice debt may also result in technical parole or probation violations, thereby generating more fees and possibly more jail time. Although it is illegal for probationers and parolees to be jailed for failure to pay their court fees and taxes, they can be jailed for a “willful” failure to pay their fines because fines are considered part of their sentences.[28] Starting in January 2017, the Public Safety Act of 2016 allows probation and parole officers to offer rehabilitative interventions rather than jail time for technical violations.[29] The aim of this provision of the law is to reduce the number of people returning to prison or jail when noncompliance of probation or parole conditions is not a new criminal offense but a technical one, like failure to pay off criminal justice debt.[30] If not implemented properly, the rehabilitative measures may create more financial obligations. Rehabilitative measures — like classes on financial management or community service requirements — might require the payment of fees, further increasing the criminal justice debt a probationer or parolee owes. While the effect of this law remains to be seen, it is clear that treating failure to pay as any kind of parole or probation violation can create a cycle of incarceration and debt that keeps indigent individuals enmeshed in the criminal system.

Driver’s Licenses Revocations

When an individual owes criminal justice debt one year after the disposition of an offense, he or she automatically loses his or her driver’s license.[31] Since this law went into effect in July 2012, the Tennessee Department of Safety and Homeland Security has revoked the licenses of more than 146,211 people because of unpaid criminal justice debt.[32] Prior to revoking licenses, the law does not require the Department of Safety to give notice of the revocation or inquire into a person’s ability to pay.[33]

In a state with limited public transportation options, traveling to work or transporting children to and from school becomes nearly impossible without a driver’s license. In fact, a Brookings Institute study found that in the cities of Knoxville, Memphis, Chattanooga and Nashville, only 25 percent, 26 percent, 39 percent, and 27 percent of all jobs, respectively, are accessible by public transportation within 90 minutes’ travel time.[34] In rural areas of the state, public transportation options are nonexistent. Many employers require a driver’s license as a prerequisite to employment as well, even if the job itself does not require driving, as a proxy for whether someone is employable.[35] More than just a privilege, a driver’s license is a lifeline in this state.

Obstructed Housing and Employment Opportunities Plus Increased Debt

Unpaid criminal justice debt damages credit scores, which, in turn, significantly limits both employment and housing opportunities. In Tennessee, criminal justice debt can be converted into a civil judgment.[36] Once filed with the clerk, such a judgment becomes public information available for credit agencies to report. Increasing numbers of employers are conducting credit checks on potential new hires, using them as a metric of financial responsibility or as a character reference.[37] Tennessee statutes also allow criminal justice debt to be collected in the same manner as a civil judgment and by private debt collectors.[38] These debt collectors are permitted to add up to a 40-percent surcharge on the debt.[39] Wages are subject to garnishment or attachment, which deters some people from obtaining work in the first place because their earnings are so significantly diminished by these collection processes.[40]

Additionally, damaged credit hurts applicants’ chances for mortgages or loans, as well as access to public or other subsidized housing.[41] For example, the Murfreesboro Housing Authority checks the credit of the head of a household, his or her spouse, and any other adult family member to verify applicants’ ability to comply with the public housing lease.[42] Given that people with criminal records already face barriers to employment and housing because of their criminal records, damaged credit scores pose an additional barrier to a successful reentry.

Preventing Voting and Participation in Local, State and Federal Political Processes

In Tennessee, any felony conviction strips a person of certain citizenship rights, including the right to vote, to run for or hold public office, and to sit on a jury.[43] These rights cannot be restored until the criminal justice debt is paid off.[44] As of 2016, more than 8 percent of Tennessee’s population was disenfranchised because of a felony conviction.[45] Preventing people with felony convictions from voting not only strips them of their voices but also undermines the democratic process by excluding them from civic and political participation.

Exacerbated Economic Instability of a Poor and Vulnerable Population

Debt-related probation and parole violations impact eligibility for several public benefits programs as well. Specifically, under federal law individuals who violate a term of their probation or parole are ineligible for the following programs: Temporary Assistance for Needy Families (TANF, otherwise known as “Families First” in Tennessee),[46] Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP, formerly known as “Food Stamps”),[47] low-income housing assistance,[48] and Supplemental Security Income for the aged, blind or disabled.[49] Utilizing the probation and parole supervision process for debt collection exacerbates the economic instability that an already poor and vulnerable population faces.

Debt Relief?

Although the impact of this debt is significant, Tennessee does not provide an adequate mechanism to reduce or waive the debt based on an individual’s ability to pay because such reduction or waiver depends on judges’ discretion. Tennessee statutes provide judges with full discretion to determine whether a person is entitled to a reduction or waiver.[50] For example, section 40-25-123 of the Tennessee Code allows a general sessions judge to waive court costs and certain litigation taxes for any indigent criminal defendant as the “equities of the case require.” A different section of the code, section 40-24-102, allows the sentencing court to waive fines or forfeitures for “good cause.” Judges do not have any statutory factors guiding their discretion in waiver decisions, and the guidance that is provided — like “good cause” or “as equities of the case require” — is undefined. Thus, even if a court finds that a person is indigent and lacks the ability to pay, Tennessee case law does not require a court to waive or reduce fees.[51] While some judges do waive criminal justice debt, others refuse on principle ever to waive or reduce it.[52] In this income-generating system, judges’ decisions may also be impacted by concern for court and state budgets.

Judges’ decisions on court cost waiver motions are also not subject to any meaningful review. A 2016 Tennessee Court of Criminal Appeals decision held that appellate courts cannot review these decisions via direct appeal.[53] Rather, the only procedural mechanism to provide review is a writ of certiorari, which may only be granted “whenever authorized by law, and also in all cases where an inferior tribunal, board or officer exercising judicial functions has exceeded the jurisdiction conferred, or is acting illegally, when, in the judgment of the court, there is no other plain, speedy, or adequate remedy.”[54] This extremely deferential standard of review means the debt relief an indigent person receives depends entirely on the judge before whom he or she appears rather than any articulated set of legal norms or procedures. Thus, individuals are often saddled with debt meant to fund state and local coffers with little or no recourse even when repayment is impossible.

Conclusion

Effectively combating this issue is up to each individual state. Some states have started to take proactive steps to prevent or alleviate the harmful consequences of criminal justice debt. Massachusetts, for example, conducted an analysis of the impact of existing fees and fines and published its findings last November.[55] In Michigan, the State Court Administrative Office created an “Ability-to-Pay Workgroup” and published guidance in 2015 for determining and addressing an obligor’s ability to pay.[56] Other states have enacted statutes that prevent some of the issues present in Tennessee’s system. New Mexico has one centralized statute for waiver of all fines and fees for easy reference.[57] Wisconsin and Arizona have a different hierarchy for repayment of criminal justice debt where fines and restitution are paid off before taxes and court costs.[58]

Relying on people like Laila and Miller to shoulder a disproportionate amount of the state’s burden to close budget gaps and fund specific programs is causing irreparable harm to its citizens. Using courts to raise revenue also calls into question the integrity and purpose of Tennessee’s criminal system. As the Louisiana Supreme Court has stated, “[C]lerks of court should not be made tax collectors for our state, nor should the threshold to our justice system be used as a toll booth to collect money for random programs created by the legislature.”[59] Awareness of this problem and its consequences is the first step in tackling it.

Notes

1. These are both Davidson County, Tennessee cases. Names have been changed to protect privacy.
2. Tenn. Admin. Office of Courts, Tennessee’s Indigent Defense Fund: A Report to the 107th General Assembly 19 (2011), available at https:// www.dropbox.com/sh/fvlzcdr8pg5mlql/AAD-13Jz3fYLcvrIylBcB94Pa/Tenn%20Indigent%20Defense%20Fund%20Rpt%20to%20107th%20General%20Assembly%20(AOC%20Jan%202011).pdf?dl=0/.
3. These obligations can also be called “fines and fees” “monetary sanctions” or “legal financial obligations.”
4. See, e.g., Abby Shafroth et al., Nat’l Consumer Law Ctr., Confronting Criminal Justice Debt, A Guide for Litigation 4–5 (2016) (defining various financial obligations); Kirsten D. Levingston & Vicki Turetsky, “Debtors’ Prison — Prisoners’ Accumulation of Debt as a Barrier to Reentry,” 41 Clearinghouse Rev. J. Pov. L. & Pol’y 187, 188 (2007) (employing this general terminology).
5. Neil Sobol, “Charging the Poor: Criminal Justice Debt & Modern-Day Debtors’ Prisons,” 75 MD. L. Rev. 486, 502 (2016).
6. See Katherine Beckett & Alexes Harris, “On Cash and Conviction: Monetary Sanctions as Misguided Policy,” 10 Criminology & Pub. Pol’y at 512, 509–37 (2011).
7. See generally Alicia Bannon et al., Brennan Ctr. for Justice, Criminal Justice Debt: A Barrier to Reentry (2010).
8. Joseph Shapiro, “Measures Aimed at Keeping People Out of Jail Punish the Poor,” NPR (May 24, 2014, 4:58 PM), http://www.npr.org/2014/05/24/314866421/measures-aimed-at-keeping-people-out-of-jail-punish-the-poor.
9. These figures were obtained from the Tennessee Department of Revenue in January of 2017. They are on file with the author.
10. Tenn. Code Ann. § 67-4-606 (West 2016).
11. Dep’t of Finance, Metropolitan Government of Nashville and Davidson County, Fy2014–2015 Revenue Manual E3 (2014), available at http://www.nashville.gov/Portals/0/SiteContent/Finance/docs/OMB/revenue_manual/fy15/FY15%20Revenue%20Manual.pdf.
12. Tenn. Advisory Comm’n on Intergovernmental Relations, Tennessee’s Court Fees and Taxes: Funding the Courts Fairly at 2 (2017), available at https://www.tn.gov/assets/entities/tacir/attachments/2017_CourtFees.pdf.
13. Id. at 24.
14. Id.
15. In a 2015 letter to the Tennessee Advisory Commission on Intergovernmental Relations (“TACIR”), Senator Jon Lundberg, former Chair of the House Civil Justice Committee, expressed that he and several members of his committee were concerned about frequent fee and tax increases. He requested that TACIR collect information about fees and taxes in Tennessee. TACIR’s report was published in January of 2017. See source cited supra note 12.
16. S.B. 3314 - H.B. 3604, 107th Gen. Assemb., Reg. Sess. (Tenn. 2012) (enacted).
17. See, e.g., “Hearing on H.B. 3604 Before the H. Comm. On Finance, Ways, and Means,” 2012 Leg., 107th Gen. Assemb., Reg. Sess. (Tenn. 2012) (statement of Charles Sargeant, Member, Joint Fiscal Review Committee) available at http://tnga.granicus.com/MediaPlayer.php?view_id=196&clip_id=5378&meta_id=103958; “Hearing on H.B. 3604 Before the H. Judiciary Subcomm., 2012 Leg., 107th Gen. Assemb., Reg. Sess.” (Tenn. 2012) (statement of Charles Sargeant, Member, Joint Fiscal Review Committee), available at http://tnga.granicus.com/MediaPlayer.php?view_id=196&clip_id=5020&meta_id=92457.
18. 18. S.B. 3743 - H.B. 3826, 107th Gen. Assemb., Reg. Sess. (Tenn. 2012) (enacted); S.B. 2780 - H.B. 2774, 107th Gen. Assemb., Reg. Sess. (Tenn. 2012) (enacted).
19. 19. See, e.g., “Hilary Magacs, Anderson Co. Court Clerk Proposes School Security Fund,” Local8now.Com (Dec. 27, 2012, 6:50 PM), http://www.local8now.com/home/headlines/Anderson-Co-court-clerk-proposes-school-security-fund-184973031.html.
20. See Christopher Hartney & Linh Vuong, National Council on Crime and Delinquency, “Created Equal: Racial and Ethnic Disparities in the U.S. Criminal Justice System” 20 (2009), available at http://nccdglobal.org/sites/default/files/publication_pdf/created-equal.pdf.
21. Id.
22. The Sentencing Project, State-by-State Data: Tennessee, available at http://www.sentencingproject.org/the-facts/#map?dataset-option=SIR (last visited Jan. 12, 2017).
23. Tenn. Dept. of Health, Populations of Color in Tennessee: Health Status Report 44 (2010), available at https://health.state.tn.us/dmhde/pdf/Populations_of_Color.pdf.
24. See id. at 45.
25. See generally Bannon et.al., supra note 7 for a thorough discussion of these consequences in other states.
26. Tenn. Code Ann. § 40-24-105(a) (West 2016).
27. Tenn. Code Ann. § 40-35-303(d) (West 2017).
28. See State v. Dye, 715 S.W.2d 36 (Tenn. 1986).
29. Tenn. Code Ann. § 40-28-301 et seq. (West 2017).
30. Tenn. Office of the Governor, Public Safety Act of 2016, http://tn.gov/governor/article/2016-legislation-public-safety-act (last visited Mar. 2, 2017); see also “Anti-Crime Legislation Among 29 New Tennessee Laws Set to Take Effect Jan. 1,” TheChattanoogan.com (Dec. 28, 2016), http://www.chattanoogan.com/2016/12/28/338751/Anti-Crime-Legislation-Among-29-New.aspx.
31. Tenn. Code Ann. § 40-24-105(b)(1) (West 2016). Constitutional challenges to this law are pending in the Middle District of Tennessee as of January 2017.
32. These figures were obtained from the Tennessee Department of Safety and Homeland Security in June of 2016. They are on file with the author.
33. Tenn. Code Ann. § 40-24-105(b)(1) (West 2016).
34. Adie Tomer et al., Brookings Inst., Missed Opportunity: Transit and Jobs in Metropolitan America, Nashville, Chattanooga, Memphis, Knoxville, (2011), available at http:// www.brookings.edu/~/media/Series/jobs-and-transit/NashvilleTN.PDF; http://www.brookings.edu/~/media/Series/jobs-and-transit/ChattanoogaTN.PDF; http://www.brookings.edu/~/media/Series/jobs-and-transit/MemphisTN.PDF; http://www.brookings.edu/~/media/Series/jobs-and-transit/KnoxvilleTN.PDF (last visited January 10, 2017).
35. Alana Semuels, “No Driver’s License, No Job,” The Atlantic (Jun. 15, 2016), http://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2016/06/no-drivers-license-no-job/486653/.
36. Tenn. Code Ann. § 40-24-105(f) (West 2016).
37. See, e.g., Rachel Farrell, “Why Do Employers Care About Your Credit?” CNN (July 12, 2010, 10:16 AM), http://www.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/07/12/cb.employers.your.credit/.
38. Tenn. Code Ann. § 40-24-105(a)–(e) (West 2016).
39. Id.
40. See Beckett & Harris, supra note 6, at 509–10. For example, in Tennessee, up to twenty-five percent of a person’s disposable income can be garnished each week. Tenn. Code Ann. § 26-2-106.
41. See, e.g., Jonnelle Marte, “Here’s How Much Your Credit Score Affects Your Mortgage Rate,” The Washington Post (Nov. 17, 2016), https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/get-there/wp/2016/11/17/heres-how-much-your-credit-score-affects-your-mortgage-rate/?utm_term=.f66caa75d94f/.
42. Murfreesboro Housing Authority, Admissions and Continued Occupancy Policy 14 (revised June 2016).
43. Tenn. Code Ann. § 40-11-112 (West 2016); Tenn. Code Ann. § 40-20-114 (West 2016); Tenn. Code Ann. § 22-1-102 (West 2016); see also United States v. Cassidy, 899 F.2d 543, 550 (6th Cir. 1990) (citizenship rights include the right to vote, run for and hold public office, and sit on a jury).
44. Tenn. Code Ann. §§ 40-29-101–40-29-201 (West 2016); see also O’Neal v. Goins, No. M2015-01337-COA-R3-CV, 2016 WL 4083466, at *1 (Tenn. Ct. App. Apr. 13, 2016).
45. The Sentencing Project, State-by-State Data: Tennessee, available at http://www.sentencingproject.org/the-facts/#map?dataset-option=SIR (last visited Mar. 2, 2017).
46. 42 U.S.C.A. § 608(a)(9)(A) (West 2016).
47. 7 U.S.C.A. § 2015(k)(1)(B) (West 2016).
48. 42 U.S.C.A. § 1437d(l)(9) (West 2016).
49. 42 U.S.C.A. § 1382(e)(4)(A)(ii) (West 2016).
50. See, e.g., Tenn. Code Ann. §§ 40-35-308(a), 40-25-129(2), 40-25-123, 40-24-104, 40-24-102 (West 2016).
51. See State v. Black, 897 S.W.2d 680, 683 (Tenn. 1995).
52. See, e.g., Ken Little, 'No Free Ride from Judge on Public Defender Fees,' The Greeneville Sun (Mar. 27, 2012), http://m.greenevillesun.com/news/article_804ff495-2608-5e8e-bc8b-543ab899797f.html?mode=jqm.
53. State v. Whitehead, No. M2016-00160-CCA-R3-CD, 2016 WL 4135878, at *1 (Tenn. Crim. App. Aug. 3, 2016).
54. Tenn. Code Ann. § 27-8-101 (West 2016); Tenn. Op. Att’y Gen. No. 15-09 (Feb. 2, 2015), available at https://www.tn.gov/assets/entities/attorneygeneral/opinions/op15-09.pdf.
55. Mass. Trial Court Fines and Fees Working Group, Report to Trial Court Chief Justice Paula M. Carey Group (Nov. 17, 2016), available at http://www.mass.gov/courts/docs/trial-court/report-of-the-fines-and-fees-working-group.pdf.
56. Mich. Supreme Court State Court Admin. Office, Tools and Guidance For Determining And Addressing An Obligor’s Ability To Pay (April 20, 2015), available at http://courts.mi.gov/Administration/SCAO/Resources/Documents/Publications/Reports/AbilityToPay.pdf.
57. N.M. State Ann. 31-12-3 § (West 2016).
58. Wis. Stat. Ann. § 973.20(12)(B) (West 2017); Ariz. Rev. Stat. Ann. § 13-809(A) (West 2017).
59. Safety Net for Abused Persons v. Segura, 92 Sp. 2d 1038, 1042 (La. 1997).

VIDHI SANGHAVI JOSHI is a Skadden Fellow at the Legal Aid Society of Middle Tennessee and the Cumberlands, Tennessee’s largest non-profit law firm. She established the Prisoner Re-Entry Project at the Legal Aid Society, and she helps people with criminal records overcome the civil legal barriers they face as a result of their interaction with the criminal system. She is a 2015 graduate of Vanderbilt University Law School, where she received the Justice-Moore Family Scholarship, awarded to students who have a demonstrated commitment to public service following graduation. She is in her second year of practice.