According to Wisconsin Department of Corrections statistics, the state’s prison population hit a new record high last week. As of Aug. 28, there were 23,854 people housed across adult prisons in Wisconsin. The figure surpasses the last record, set  in 2019, and raises questions about whether and how the state will take steps to address its chronically overcrowded prison problem. 

The record high was first reported by Wisconsin Watch, which noted that the prison system was designed to hold nearly 6,000 fewer people than it currently does. In some prisons, such as the three prisons housing women in Wisconsin, gyms and office spaces have been  converted into dorm space. Meanwhile, the DOC struggles with staffing shortages among correctional officers, medical and psych workers. 

Wisconsin is an outlier, with some of the highest rates of imprisonment for Black and brown people in the country. The state has also struggled to finally close the troubled Lincoln Hills juvenile prison, despite bipartisan agreement that it needs to shut down what has been one of the largest facilities of its kind in America.

Shannon Ross, a member of Justice Forward Wisconsin has watched the prison population rising again after dropping after the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. “It’s been going up steadily every year,” Ross told the Wisconsin Examiner. “And it’s a confluence of the fact that we have too many ways for a person to get sent to prison — we just have a lot of crimes …  we have a lot of high penalties for crimes, and we have a lack of ways for people to come home early.” 

Emily Curtis, a member of the group Ladies of SCI, told the Examiner  Wisconsin “continues to rely heavily on incarceration without putting enough emphasis on what actually reduces incarceration over the long term.” 

While excessive sentences keep people in prison for as long as possible, Curtis added that “there are still not enough meaningful rehabilitation opportunities within the prison system that are accessible to everyone who could benefit from them.” She stressed that “education, job training, treatment, reentry preparation, and other programs need to provide people with real tools and realistic avenues for success when they return to their communities. If we want to reduce recidivism, rehabilitation cannot simply exist on paper. It has to create an actual path toward successful reentry.” 

The DOC says incarcerated people have access to various programs aimed at rehabilitation and education. Earlier this year, for example, the University of Wisconsin college system graduated its first incarcerated bachelors degree students in over 50 years. The students graduated as a result of a partnership program between the DOC and UW. 

The state agency has also pushed back against criticisms of the rising prison population, stating that it has limited authority to grant early release and that it’s up to the state Legislature to craft laws dealing with the pressing challenges faced by many DOC facilities. Although Wisconsin Gov. Tony Evers has proposed reforms in multiple state budget drafts, including closing aging prisons and establishing greater oversight, these ideas were rejected by the Republican-controlled Legislature.

Meanwhile controversy has grown around exceptionally old prisons including in Waupun and Green Bay, where reports of deaths due to negligent medical care, violence, alleged drug smuggling by staff, extensive lockdowns restricting access to programming, and use of solitary confinement (what the DOC calls restrictive housing), and other problems have surfaced. Lawsuits and investigations targeted prison leaders for these problems. The population at Waupun plummeted from over 1,000 people to as low as 694 people in July 2024, which brought the population within the prison’s designed capacity, according to data compiled by Wisconsin Watch. As of Aug. 21, however, the population had risen to nearly 1,000 people. 

Ross, of the advocacy coalition Justice Forward, a formerly incarcerated person himself, said that in Wisconsin “the criminal justice system is used as a political football, and neither side is really moving what they know clearly in front of them should happen, because they don’t want to fully give up on the tough-on-crime claim that they can make.” The politics of crime and punishment, he says, results in elected leaders either not doing enough to institute reforms, or doubling down on a culture of punishment. “That creates this dynamic where everyone is trying to be seen as protecting society, meanwhile no one’s actually protecting society because it doesn’t make us healthier as a society having a large prison system.”

Curtis added that it’s important to “broaden the conversation about what rehabilitation actually means.” 

“Programs are important, but so is the environment a person lives in every single day. The daily interactions incarcerated people have with correctional staff can either reinforce rehabilitation or work directly against it. When the culture focuses primarily on catching mistakes, writing conduct reports, handing out punishment, or viewing positive behavior and accomplishments with suspicion, it becomes extremely difficult to create an environment where genuine change is encouraged.”

What drives the prison population to climb is a complicated formula. Part of it, many advocates say, is the system of revoking parole, probation and other forms of community release and sending people back to prison. Missing an appointment with a probation officer or a baseless accusation without thorough investigation can send someone on release back to prison. 

That’s what happened to Dennis Simmons, who was nearly sent back to prison in 2025 due to false accusations, and a probation agent who tried to revoke Simmons despite having evidence that the accusations against him were false. Simmons was housed in the Milwaukee Secure Detention Facility while the case played out. He described the facility as overcrowded and short staffed. Simmons eventually beat the accusations, but said that the episode crushed his hopes of change after being in and out of the system most of his life. Simmons was later arrested in a different case, and the DOC recommended he be sent back to prison. Over 8,100 people were sent back to prison in 2025. 

Talking to people who’ve worked on the prosecution-side of the criminal justice system, Ross said he learned of many cases where people were sent  back to prison because prosecutors decided it was  a simpler, quicker, more cost-effective route than filing new charges against the person. Yet, at the root of the overpopulation issue is the lack of ways for people to come home early, Ross said.

Right now, there are people who’ve been incarcerated for decades who are going before the state’s commutations board to ask the governor to shorten their sentence. In April, Gov. Evers signed executive orders to revive the board, changing a pattern lasting decades of Wisconsin governors choosing to not use their power to alter prison sentences. The commutation process has been a target of attack for right-wing pundits, who frame efforts to shorten sentences as being soft on crime and releasing droves of criminals. The attacks are similar to those against probation, parole, and the bail system.

Marianne Oleson, co-executive director of Ex-Incarcerated People Organizing (EXPO) said in an emailed statement that the revival of the commutations board is “an important and long-overdue step.” Oleson cautioned, however, that “commutations alone cannot resolve a crisis of this magnitude,” adding, “Wisconsin needs broader sentencing and supervision reform, expanded opportunities for earned release and ‘second look’ review, greater use of alternatives to incarceration, and substantial investment in housing, treatment, employment and community-based reentry support.”

“Wisconsin cannot incarcerate its way out of every social problem,” she said.

Ross told the Examiner that he understands why people might be skeptical of incarcerated people’s assurances that they’ve genuinely changed and deserve to be released. 

“I’m sympathetic to that because those things do happen, but they happen in life, period,” said Ross. Still, in his view, prison is one place where it’s hard to disguise bad character traits. “Those of us that have done time, we know that the fish bowl of prison is place that, if you can genuinely be changed and show people you’re changed there, then you very clearly are not who you were at one point.” 

Ross said people who apply for and meet the standards for commutation are demonstrating not only that they’ve done the bare minimum of educating themselves and getting therapy, but that more importantly, they are making connections with other people. “You can see folks that have built up support networks,” said Ross. “You see folks that have reference letters and have people in their corner. You can see folks in the way that they carry themselves, in the way they talk, it’s very humble. It’s very aware and accountable to the things that they’ve done.”

He added that “people show you who they are if you’re paying attention, and if you know how to look.” Ross said that he wants the state to get to a point where people are able to see through sensationalism about the criminal justice system, and understand the nuances of the issue and  people’s individual stories.

Curtis said something similar. “I would like to see state leadership take a comprehensive look at sentencing practices, revocation policies, rehabilitation, institutional culture, and reentry rather than treating the record prison population simply as a capacity problem,” she wrote. “Building or expanding facilities may address where people are housed, but it does not address why the population continues to grow or why people return.”

On Friday, Gov. Tony Evers’ Commutation Advisory Board heard from 12 incarcerated people who are asking the governor to shorten their prison sentences, as well as some of the victims of their crimes. 

“I found myself thinking of this a lot, really often, and feeling terrible for what I had done to these people, and wished more than anything that I could just take it back, and never hurt anyone in any way,” said applicant Aaron Smith.

Evers issued two executive orders in April that revived commutations in Wisconsin after decades of governors not exercising their power to alter prison sentences. The advisory board is responsible for reviewing commutation applications that meet Evers’ criteria for consideration and for making recommendations to the governor about who should receive a commutation. The board also recommends how a person’s sentence should be changed or shortened. 

Granting commutations rewards incarcerated people who are committed to change, according to Evers, promoting rehabilitation. 

On Wednesday, Republican state Sen. Van Wanggaard (R-Racine) announced in a press release that he was releasing the names of more than 800 incarcerated people who were seeking commutation of their sentences. He argued that Evers is using “hand-picked, unelected bureaucrats” to second-guess prosecutors and judges. 

At the Friday hearing, 12 incarcerated people spoke before the board. After the applicants took questions from board members, victims had a chance to give statements.

Sharif Green

In 2015, Sharif Green was sentenced to 20 years of incarceration and 10 years of extended supervision on charges of possessing cocaine and heroin with intent to manufacture, distribute or deliver it. 

“I take full responsibility for my wrong action,” Green said. “And I believe from the bottom of my heart, I’ve changed. I had conversations with people, they see the change in me. I no longer earn money illegally. I’ve been working since I’ve been here.”

Green previously served time in Wisconsin’s prison system after a drug-related conviction in 1997. A board member said that many of the applicants being reviewed by the board at the hearing were young when they committed their offenses, while Green was 40 years old at the time of his 2014 offense. 

She asked Green what he thinks helped him change this time that’s different from the first time he went to prison. He spoke about a time in which people turned away from him during a conversation after hearing about his sentence, and about a time when he’d received bad news from family. 

“All that time I was wasting for no reason when I could’ve changed, and I had the opportunity to do it but I didn’t,” Green said. “So this time, I have no choice.”

Mighty Howell

Mighty Howell, 50, a resident of Jackson Correctional Institution, incarcerated for 33 years, was convicted of first-degree intentional homicide for the May 27,1993 killing of Roger Bucholz in Milwaukee. He recounted how at age 17 he and three friends were inspired to commit armed robbery after watching a movie, firing shots in the direction of Bucholz’s vehicle and later realized Bucholz had been killed.

“He had no reason to not believe that he was going to make it home safe that night to his family and his kids,” said Howell. “Not only did I take away his opportunity to live a full, successful life, I took it away from his family. I took away from his kids, and I think that at this moment I want to apologize to his parents, his wife, his kids, his relatives, all his relatives.”

He said one of the ways for him to show “genuine remorse” was to change while incarcerated. He recounted the programs he had participated in, including furthering his education as well as his efforts to confront his fears and make decisions to mature.

“I’ve done 33 years and about five months now,” he said. “The 17-year-old bears no resemblance to the 50-year-old that sits before you today.”.

“It was a difficult process to remove those bad habits,” he said and talked about making the decision to cut ties with friends and gang members, and his decision while he was in solitary confinement to change his life.   

Asked if he had forgiven himself, he said, “It was hard because I always felt like, man, you killed somebody, bro. So I always felt that pain.” 

He added that through religious services, he had addressed his guilt.

 “In order for you to move forward, you have to forgive yourself,” he said, “and I believe I’ve done a great job so far, but it’s still there.”

Aaron Smith

In 2008, Aaron Smith was convicted of four counts of armed robbery with threat of force, a count of burglary and a count of attempted armed robbery with threat of force. He received 20 years of incarceration and 15 years of extended supervision for the offenses, which took place between September and November 2007. 

Smith said he was 18 years old at the time he committed his crimes and made bad decisions fueled by a drug addiction. He said that early in his incarceration, he didn’t think of his crimes as having victims. While volunteering in a prison program that involved training dogs for PTSD service work for war veterans and people affected by crime, he had the opportunity to work with crime victims, which opened his eyes, he said. 

“I remember working with these people and thinking to myself, ‘How did my actions affect these people in my case?’” Smith said. “Did my victims in my case get affected in such a way as the people I was working with?”

A board member questioned Smith about the motivation for his crimes, stating the criminal complaint in his case showed that at the time, Smith had said his motivation was needing money, not addiction. Smith replied that he’d initially lied about his drug use and eventually admitted to having a drug problem and had to complete treatment programs. 

Smith was also questioned about a conduct report he received for tobacco earlier this year, asking why he would risk his work release program. Smith called it a “very dumb decision.”

“I’m going to be looking at my freedom, and that potentially being taken away from me if I make mistakes,” Smith said. “So I need to be able to refer back to the treatment that I have and stop and think, go through the scenario. What’s about to happen if I do this?” 

Board chair Mel Barnes read an anonymous statement from a victim in Smith’s case, who said that he should not receive a commutation and that they still experience flashbacks, nightmares and hypervigilance. The victim said Smith has the right to file for his sentence to be adjusted but argued that the judge in Smith’s case made his decision carefully, and that Smith’s offenses were not just one impulsive act. 

“Aaron Smith obviously believed that robbing people was the easy way, and better than making an honest living,” the victim’s statement said. “I didn’t deserve this to happen to me, but it did because (of) Aaron Smith…I do believe that people can change, and I do believe in second chances. Aaron Smith may have changed his life while in prison, but to me, trying to get out of your prison sentence early doesn’t really show accountability.” 

Natalie Murphy

Natalie Murphy, 33, a resident of Taycheedah Correctional Institution, was sentenced on December 16, 2016, in Juneau County for first-degree reckless homicide that led to the death of her boyfriend, Andrew Dammen, 24, and for second-degree reckless endangerment of her oldest daughter. She received a 20-year sentence of incarceration, followed by 10 years of extended supervision.

“I’ve spent every day thinking about all the things that I could have done differently prior to Andy’s death that night, and I can see how all of my unhealthy choices resulted in the loss of Andy’s life and the exposure to toxic and dangerous situations for our daughters,” she said. “While our relationship was far from perfect, Andy was a good father to our child, and I wish more than anything he could have been here for her and for his son Weston.”

Murphy talked about her determination to be a better person, including participating in therapy groups, working on parenting skills, gaining a diploma as a culinary assistant, becoming a certified peer specialist (CPS) and becoming a CPS trainer, completing a four-year personal enrichment course through Moody Bible College, obtaining a paralegal certificate and working toward an associate’s degree from University of Wisconsin-Green Bay.

She said she is working on making her re-entry as “seamlessly as possible.”

“I’ve been focusing on education to better prepare me for re-entry, and on treatment to change the unhealthy aspects of who I am or who I was,” she said, adding, “to learn better ways of interacting with the world.”

Murphy read a letter from her oldest daughter, whom she said is the person most affected by her crime.

“I did this for my own growth, to show my family what’s possible if you put hard work in to succeed upon release, and in order to prove to the children in my life that no bad decision is ever bad enough that you cannot be a better person every day,” she said.”

Asked about her response to her victims other than her children, Murphy said she would apologize, but she is under a no-contact order.

“I have never not been sorry that my presence was harmful,” she said. “No amount of sorry is ever enough. No amount of trying to empathize will ever understand their loss. I can never understand what losing a child is,” she said,  adding, “All I can say is that I am exceptionally sorry for their pain that will be with them.”

Asked what accountability meant to her, she said, “There’s saying sorry and then there’s doing sorry. I think everybody can say sorry. I strive to act out my remorse, and I strive to act in such a way that this terrible, terrible thing that has happened, I can do something to help somebody else because of what I had done.”

Zane, Andrew’s brother, spoke against commuting Murphy’s sentence.

“I have spent the past 10 years rebuilding, digging, and fighting to stay afloat,” said Zane. “The ripple effects caused by Natalie Murphy are still being felt to this day.”

He added, “On the day that we got some relief knowing that justice had been served, however, almost a decade later now, I feel as if my family is being suspended over an ocean of sorrow at the whim of a commutation board. Andrew will never get to know his children. He will never have a second chance to be a father due to Natalie’s actions. With this single act, the lives of everyone she touched has been irrevocably destroyed. Children, parents, and friends on both sides of this tragedy will never be the same.”

Andrew’s mother, Kimberly, also spoke against a commutation.

“Over the past 10 years, Natalie has never demonstrated what I believe to be genuine remorse for her actions or accepted responsibility for the reckless homicide of my son,” said Beverly. “To this day, she continues to characterize Andrew’s death as an accident rather than acknowledging her responsibility for what occurred.”

Kimberly expressed concern that if Murphy were released, it would cause “significant conflict and disruption to our family,” including issues of guardianship of the grandchildren and being required to interact with Murphy because of the grandchildren.   

Sammy Cole

In 2001, Sammy Cole was sentenced to 35 years of confinement and 10 years of extended community supervision after a conviction of armed robbery with threat of force. A charge of possessing a firearm as a felon was read into the case. 

The victim in the case had driven with her roommate to an ATM machine to withdraw money, where Cole, wearing a bandanna around his face, pointed a gun at her and demanded money, according to the criminal complaint in the case. After she had trouble getting money out of the ATM, he took cash from her wallet and fled the scene. 

Cole told the advisory board that he felt “profound regret and shame.” He said that he was under the “complete grip” of a severe addiction at the time and made a terrible choice. He said that saying sorry is not enough. 

“At sentencing I apologized, but that apology was worthless without some action,” Cole said. “I spent my years in prison doing all I can to be a better person, from the very beginning of my incarceration. I didn’t waste no time.”

Cole said he didn’t have a violent conduct report during his incarceration and acquired various job skills. He said that his mission was to address his addiction and the criminal behavior that supported it, and that he took rehabilitative programs. 

The victims, he said, were “out to go into their neighborhood to an ATM machine and to get money out of their account, and they was expecting not to have any harm come upon them,” Cole said. “…My sisters (were) highly upset with me that I committed this crime, and it hurt them, as females.”

Cole said that the crime was a choice he made, because “not all drug addicts go to the extreme.” He said that “somehow, they find a way, but I didn’t find that way,” and that he was deeply sorry. 

One board member asked Cole about a 2016 conduct report, where it appeared Cole had been reprimanded for drinking wine, and asked about addiction and recovery and what Cole had learned from that incident. 

Cole said he previously thought that he could still drink a beer or smoke marijuana after he got out of prison because those substances didn’t cause him the type of problems that led him to prison, but he said this wasn’t the case. He said he didn’t have a chance to drink the wine, and that it was taken out of his room.

“There will be no beer drinking…I don’t have the strength, as guys in (Narcotics Anonymous and Alcoholics Anonymous) tell me, that it could be a gateway to going right back to heroin,” Cole said. “But I strongly don’t believe heroin would ever seize me ever again.”

Michael Maldonado

Michael Maldonado, 47, a resident of Kettle Moraine Correctional Institution, is serving a life sentence for the 1994 killing of Ruben Borchardt, when he was 15. Two other boys also received lesser sentences because Maldonado was named as the shooter, but after the others were paroled from prison, one of two, Douglas Vest, said that he had been the shooter. As a result Maldonado’s  sentence was modified in 2025, pushing up his eligibility for parole from 2044 to 2025.

(Read more about Maldonado’s potential commutation in the Examiner)

Maldonado talked extensively about interacting with Borchardt’s family after his sentence modification hearing on October 9, 2025:

It was clear to him, he said, that the family continues to suffer from the loss he inflicted on them and that they continue to miss Borchardt every day.  

Maldonado said when he was sent to prison at age 16 he had made up his mind to “make the most of a bad situation and do my best to honor all the victims left in the wake of what I had done.”

He recounted taking advantage of several educational opportunities and volunteering to  frame houses for Habitat for Humanity, speaking with  at-risk youth, and training dogs for the disabled.

He  noted that he had completed  an associate’s degree with 4.0 average and been accepted into the bachelor’s program at the University of Wisconsin-Green Bay.

Maldonado also  described an extensive support system for his re-entry (including housing, employment, and legal assistance) in Wisconsin and Texas, where most of his family lives.

“In my over 30 years of incarceration, I have done my best to identify and acknowledge my faults, and I have actively worked on them in attempts to make myself a better person in the process,” he said. “I have worked to give back to the community, and I have learned so much from those opportunities.”

Christopher Smith

In 2002, Christopher Smith was sentenced to 45 years of incarceration and 15 years of extended supervision in the community after he was convicted on  three counts of armed robbery with threat of force. He was convicted as a party to the crimes, indicating that he provided aid or conspired to commit the crimes. 

A Court of Appeals opinion dated February 7, 2006 denied an appeal from Smith, stating that the trial court’s sentence was not unduly harsh. The opinion states that the trial court described the armed robberies as “‘appalling crime[s] against each of these victims,’ who had been planning their mother’s funeral, and were then confronted by armed robbers.” 

“Each perpetrator threatened each victim with a gun, and demonstrated little patience or humanity in robbing each victim,” the opinion states.

At sentencing, the trial court counted “the negative aspects of Smith’s character” against him, the opinion states. The court said Smith repeatedly attempted to deflect blame, “characterizing him as manipulative, ‘conniving,’ and ‘slick’ and found his “different versions of the robberies and his shifting degrees of involvement” to be unbelievable.  

The 2006 opinion states that the trial court was convinced Smith’s “character defects and his brazen attitude required prison because he was ‘a riskier proposition in the community.’” The court had the right to consider Smith a greater community risk because Smith failed to use opportunities for rehabilitation and had returned to criminal behavior on parole, the opinion states. 

Because of the evidence in the case, the trial court considered Smith to have more culpability than his accomplices “‘as the ringleader,’” the opinion states. 

At the hearing, Smith said he thanks God that none of the victims were hurt. He said that no weapons were used and no one was injured, but that he caused the victims hurt, shame and disappointment by his actions. He described his role as being tossed a victim’s fur coat and fleeing the scene. 

Smith said he’s completed restorative justice programming that gave him insight into the ripple effects of his actions upon others and the harm he caused. 

Cindy O’Donnell, the board’s vice chair and a former deputy secretary of the Wisconsin Department of Corrections, questioned Smith. He said he accepted responsibility for causing the victims harm. When asked to specify what he was accepting responsibility for doing, he said that he participated in the crime when he knew better, by taking the coat and fleeing the scene. 

Another board member said that Smith said in his application for commutation that it was not his decision to take part in the act, and asked for him to explain. Smith said it was a spur of the moment decision. He said he didn’t know what was going on, was tossed a coat, panicked and ran. 

A board member said it appeared that one of Smith’s co-defendants had a gun, and asked Smith whether he knew that that person had the gun before the armed robbery. 

Smith said property was taken forcefully but argued that he did not see a gun and that a gun was not found. 

Daniel Cerney

Daniel Cernye, 43, a resident of Dodge Correctional Institution, was sentenced to two  concurrent life sentences for the 1999 shooting deaths of Wiliam Leis, 51 and his 85-year-old mother, Evelyn Leis, when Cerney was 16, and he was also sentenced for burglary armed with a dangerous weapon and theft of movable property.

At the hearing, Cerney said he shot William but that an accomplice, Jimmy Grimes, killed Evelyn.

“I shot William Leis, and I take full responsibility for my actions,” he said. “I say that Jimmy told me what to do, but at the end of the day, I made my own decision to pull the trigger. I could have made a different decision. I could have even helped Evelyn. Until this day, I do not understand why I would take someone’s life, but now I see how selfish and influenced I was. It took something that tragic to show me how much I value life, and I never want to follow those types of influences ever again.”

He added, “I can never express how sorry I truly am, and every choice and decision I made that day, that night, changed many lives, even my own family.”

He recounted talking to victim family members via the restorative justice project and learning how they had been affected, including trauma and depression.  

He also described his efforts to rehabilitate his life through educational opportunities and required programming that included talking with family members. He described how  one of the victims’ family members, Mary Rezin, met with him and prayed with him, and later, after he had served 17 years, forgave him.

He recounted volunteering in the Journey Together Dog Program, training dogs for the disabled, which helped him  find purpose in life.

“One of the biggest things I learned in this program was that it wasn’t about me anymore,” he said. “It was about the dog and the client. I was a part of training two service dogs for military veterans who were diagnosed with PTSD. Being a part of those trainings and watching the client and dog mold together was the reward for me.”

He also became a mentor to other incarcerated people, sharing his experience on how to make better decisions.

“Being in all of these rehabilitative programs has taught me coping skills, communication skills, and many others. I have learned to communicate with staff,” he said, adding, “It doesn’t matter what the name of the program is; they all have tools to help us become better people and make better choices. And I’m grateful for the programs and education I have taken because they put me in situations where I needed to communicate, learn, grow, and treat everyone with respect.”

His re-entry plan includes living at a cottage his mother and stepfather own and obtaining work.

He finished by offering his perspective on his life.

“When I committed the crime, I was a different person than who I am today,” he said.  “Today, I am a new self, and I love and trust my new self. Mary helped me accomplish that. And through these 27 years since I committed my crime, I have changed.

Cerney was asked how he would face strong feelings from the public if released.

“Everyone can have an opinion of me, and I respect it,” he said, “but first and foremost, I will never ever put myself in a position to harm someone else or think bad of someone else. I’m just willing to foster my own behavior and show everybody who I am, now, today.”

A statement by Brittany, Mary’s granddaughter was read saying that Mary believes Cerney is a changed person who should be given a second chance. 

Amanda Weaver

In 2008, Amanda Weaver was sentenced to 30 years of incarceration and 20 years of extended supervision in the community, after being convicted of five counts of burglary. She told the board that she and others broke into businesses and churches to steal “money, alcohol and anything else that would bring more money.”

She said this occurred over a three-month span of time and that the group quickly went from smoking weed and drinking to using hard drugs. She said that she’d denied a leadership role in this for many years but was the oldest of the group and had a record with burglaries, and that she supported the group’s behavior rather than curbing her own actions and trying to influence those younger than her to curb theirs. 

“That behavior brought loss to others, not just the obvious financial losses, but the sense of safety and trust these people had in their community and the people living in it,” Weaver said. “That trust and sense of safety is something I cannot pay back with restitution or an apology.”

Weaver said she was motivated to start seeking real help. This led her to complete groups, schooling and therapy that are mentioned in her application for commutation, she said. She said she participated in about 40 groups, was valedictorian of her high school equivalency diploma class, and worked toward two associate’s degrees in business and ongoing intensive therapy for almost two decades. 

“It is with the tools I have gained over the years that I will re-enter society as the rehabilitated and very much changed person I have become,” Weaver said. 

Demian McDermott

Demian McDermott, 53, a resident of the Winnebago Correctional Center, received a life sentence for the October 13, 1990 killing of Francisco Questell in Milwaukee. At the time  McDermott was 18. He has spent the last 36 years behind bars.

“The ripple effect of my actions had a profound negative impact on my community as well,” he said. “Young men like me, who had no thought for the consequences and after-effects of our selfish actions, were a plague on our neighborhoods and surrounding communities. This crime did not end with the premature death of one person, but impacted the lives of everyone connected to him, to me, and changed the way people in the community felt about safety, trust in one another.”

At 25 years into his incarceration at Green Bay Correctional Institution, McDermott said, a social worker recognized that he wasn’t able to maintain the “façade” that others were to blame for his crime, and encouraged him to join a program to reach at-risk youth. Working in that program required McDermott to be honest with himself, he said. 

He talked about being sober for 28 years, earning an associate’s degree from Ohio University, working toward a bachelor’s degree, completing five vocational programs, and participating in three restorative justice programs.

He said that he had always been employed during his incarceration and had never been fired, and talked about his experience training dogs to help the visually impaired.

“Over the past 30 years, I have spent time in here as constructively and positively as possible, so I could grow in evolving to be a better person,” he said.

He talked of his re-entry plan that included a supportive family that would provide housing in Madison, and he said there were accounts set up for him to help purchase a vehicle and clothing and to cover other needs. He also said he had  work opportunities including working as a dog trainer.

“I fully understand that nothing is guaranteed in life,” he said, adding, “I have prepared myself to the best of my ability to not only survive, but thrive out in society and contribute in a positive way. I believe we live in a society that gives me second chances, but they are not an entitlement. I needed to earn one, not expect one.”

Raquel Questell, Francisco’s sister, spoke against offering McDermott a commutation.

“Since October 13, 1990, when my brother went missing, it destroyed my family’s heart, mind, and soul,” she said. “Getting the news on October 17, 1990, at the tender age of 16, was something I would have never imagined could happen, let alone in the manner he was murdered. I am here to express the agony, just knowing the possibility that Damian can be released due to the new law of the juvenile life sentence commutation that became effective April of 2026. My brother’s life is more precious than just 36 years. Damian was the ringleader to my brother’s death. He planned a day to pick up my brother since my brother did not have a car. He found a person to give him a gun.”

Francisco’s niece, Ms. Torres, who had never met her uncle, also spoke out against granting McDermott a commutation.

Lawrence Northern

In 2002, Lawrence Northern was sentenced to 30 years of incarceration and 10 years of supervision in the community for one count of possessing cocaine with intent to manufacture, distribute or deliver, and one count of being party to a crime. Northern told the board that he accepts full responsibility for his crimes without minimizing their seriousness.  

“My actions were wrong and harmful,” Northern said. “Selling drugs is not a victimless crime. It damages individuals, tears families apart, and negatively impacts communities.”

Board member Maryann Sumi, a former Dane County Circuit Court judge and chair of the Wisconsin Ethics Commission, said the list of programs and opportunities that Northern had taken was impressive. She asked him about a specific course that focused on change from within. 

Northern said that growing up, he developed a defense system and coping mechanism “that was grounded on everything wrong, believing that it was necessary to survive the streets of Chicago.”

“And so after taking that course, upon reflection, it brought me back to the core values that my mother taught me,” Northern said. “And that was to accept life on its terms, not run from them. Accept them.”

Sabir Wilcher

Sabir Wilcher, 46, a resident of Oakhill Correctional Institution was given a life sentence in 1995 when he was 15 for the killing of Elvis Anderson, 20, in Milwaukee. He has been incarcerated for 31 years.

“I can’t begin to imagine the impact of what I did to his family and the community,” Wilcher said of murdering Anderson. “To this day, I know that his family still feels the impact of their loss. Not being able to sit with him, hug, laugh, cry with him has to be a draining and sickening feeling. And I am truly, truly sorry for the pain I’ve caused them. One of the things that pains me the most is knowing that I’m the reason Mr. Anderson never got a chance to see his son grow into a man that chose to forgive the person that took his father away from him.”

Wilcher said the last 31 years have been “hard,” but he has also learned by being involved in the restorative justice program that helped him understand the impact of his actions and by taking vocational training and obtaining a bachelor’s degree from Trinity University.

He said he’s had many jobs in prison, including being the head baker and noted one of his goals on the outside is to gain more experience and operate his own bakery selling fresh baked products and helping youth learn skills that are alternatives to street life and selling drugs.

“I’ve done a lot of work trying to rehabilitate my mind from an impulsive and impressionable 15-year-old to the man that’s addressing you today,” he said.  “There were a lot of turning points in my life that made me want to change. When I first came to prison, I found myself still following behind the wrong group of people and giving the wrong people my loyalty.”

He said a time in solitary confinement caused him to reflect on his life, stop blaming others and take responsibility for his life

“I always blamed everyone but myself for being in prison, as well as everything that’s ever happened to me, I blamed God. I blamed my parents for being addicted to crack and not being there for me. I blamed the other, the older guys that I looked up to, that put me in the drug houses, that ordered me to kill Mr. Anderson,” he said.  “However, now I know that only children blame other people for their own mistakes, and being a man means making my own decisions and owning up to the mistakes that I make in life.”

He was asked why he got in trouble in prison in 2022 for a new tattoo and in 2023 for using intoxicants, and he explained those years had been at a low point in his life and he was feeling alone, and then family members became involved in his life, including his mother and siblings, and people helped him to choose a better path.

Wilcher recounted that when Anthony Anderson forgave him that he cried for the first time in prison.

“I didn’t expect that from anybody, especially not my victim’s family, and for me that was a powerful moment of my life,” he said.

The Commutations Advisory Board will hear the cases of another 12 incarcerated people on Sept. 18. 

This Friday, Michael Maldonado, 47, a resident of the Kettle Moraine Correctional Institute who has been incarcerated for 31 years for a crime he committed when he was 15, will be one of 12 applicants considered by Wisconsin Gov. Tony Evers’ Commutation Advisory Board.

Maldonado’s supporters believe he has served more than enough time for his offense and should be released from prison to enter community supervision.

In June 1995, Maldonado was sentenced for first degree intentional homicide in Jefferson County for the April 3, 1994 killing of Ruben Borchardt as part of a plot inspired by his wife, Diane Borchardt, a substitute teacher. Diane Borchardt offered a $600 reward, along with other promised gifts, for killing her husband to Doug E. Vest Jr., 16, a student at Jefferson High School, who recruited Maldonado, Vest’s younger cousin, and another student named Josh Yanke.

Maldonado claimed his role was procuring a sawed-off shotgun used in the killing, but the other two boys testified that Maldonado was also the shooter.

Maldonado was given a life sentence with the first opportunity for parole on April 3, 2044.

Both Vest and Yanke received lighter sentences on homicide charges. Vest got 25 years for first degree homicide and Yanke got 18 years for second degree homicide.

After both Vest and Yanke were paroled from prison, Vest acknowledged via letter that, in fact, he was the shooter and not Maldonado.

On October 9, 2025, Maldonado received a sentence modification, largely due to Vest’s letter, and became eligible for earlier parole; his first parole hearing was in March 2026, where he was given a deferment of 18 months before another hearing.

Maldonado is the only one of three youths who conspired to kill Borchardt who is still incarcerated.

Through a records request to the governor’s office, the Wisconsin Examiner found out  in April that Maldonado was one of two individuals the WISDOM Commutation Group, the advocacy group that has been promoting commutations by Gov. Tony Evers since 2023, had identified for consideration. Commutation is  a form of executive clemency involving a reduction or modification of a sentence.

The Examiner reached out to Maldonado for an interview, but he declined, citing what he called the “delicate process” of the commutation application and not wanting to “ruin any chances I might have.”

The WISDOM presentation said Maldonado and a second man who was also involved in a crime when he was young, “need a second chance because they received disproportionately long sentences for crimes they committed in their youth, back in the 1990s. They deserve a second chance because they have already served so much time and demonstrated so much maturity and good character that they would have qualified for parole before now if the length of their sentence had not ruled out that remedy.”

During his Oct. 9 sentence modification hearing, Robert Henak, the attorney representing Maldonado, made a similar argument before Jefferson County Circuit Judge William V. Gruber:

“Back in 1994, Wisconsin law provided that the first-degree intentional homicide sentence could be as little as 13 years, 4 months before parole eligibility. That is somebody who intentionally takes another life. Not even, you know, necessarily as a party to a crime.”

Henak noted that Vest received twice the minimum sentence at 25 years and Maldonado nearly four times the minimum at 50 years, when he would first become eligible for parole.

The WISDOM Commutation team also noted that for Wisconsin governors through the 1970s and 80s it was “common practice” to commute or reduce “the sentences of prisoners who had been convicted of serious crimes (including first-degree murder), when their behavior behind bars suggested sufficient rehabilitation to return to society as responsible, job-ready, citizens.”

In 2023, Maldonado wrote of his contrition over the crime:

“I was young and foolish, but that is no excuse for my behavior, and I am remorseful for my actions. Throughout my growth and self-identity, I have learned that freedom is a responsibility. Although I did not understand this in my youth, today I take full responsibility for my actions, and I have great appreciation for humanity.”

Maldonado provided his juvenile life sentence commutation application to the Jefferson County Clerk of Court, which the Examiner then obtained via a records request.

The application includes an 11-page memorandum prepared by Zoe Engberg of the University of Wisconsin Law School.

“Based on the erroneous belief that Mr. Maldonado was the shooter, the judge sentenced Mr. Maldonado to a significantly longer sentence than his other teenage co-defendants,” Engberg wrote. “Mr. Maldonado’s sentence was later modified in light of new evidence indicating that Douglas Vest, not Michael Maldonado, was the shooter.”

In the Oct. 9, 2025 transcript of the sentence modification, Judge William Gruber said he also believed sentencing Judge Jacqueline Erwin issued a harsher sentence for Maldonado because she perceived him as the shooter.

“Isn’t that as plain as day that Judge Erwin lengthened the period of ineligibility to parole with respect to Mr. Maldonado because her impression, based upon her exposure over the course of those trials (Vest, Yanke and Diane Borchardt), was that he’s the one who pulled the trigger?” Gruber said.

Engberg summarized Maldonado’s progress and maturation while in prison, where he took  advantage of educational opportunities, worked responsibly, and volunteered.

“Mr. Maldonado has spent his time in prison productively,” wrote Engberg. “He has received extensive praise from Dept. of Corrections staff for his work, including multiple commendations and promotions in a variety of employment positions. He has earned numerous degrees, including his HSED (High School Equivalency Diploma) , multiple vocational degrees, and his associate’s degree. He has also become deeply involved in volunteer pursuits – including building houses for Wisconsin families with Habitat for Humanity, speaking with at-risk youth and training service dogs for Wisconsin community members.”

Judge Gruber, at the sentence modification hearing in 2025, also noted that Maldonado’s “rehabilitative promise is high and I think that’s exceptional.”

Engberg noted that Maldonado had his first parole hearing in March 2026, and she contended that, under normal circumstances, denial of release at the first hearing is typical; she also contended that Maldonado would probably have to appear before the parole board several more times before being released.

“It will probably be many years before Mr. Maldonado completes the requirements imposed by the Parole Board – not because of his lack of effort or because he poses a risk if released – but because of the administrative barriers that stand in his way,” she said. “By the Parole Commission’s own admission, his conduct, program participation, and re-entry plan are all satisfactory for release. The DOC’s risk assessment places him at the lowest possible risk level. Nevertheless, it will likely be years before he is released on parole.”

Engberg also noted that Maldonado’s re-entry plan includes several housing offers, a job offer, and support from the Remington Center, part of the law school.

“Mr Maldonado’s extensive support network is a huge asset to his successful transition back to the community,” wrote Engberg.

Concerning the death of Ruben Borchardt, Maldonado wrote in his application: “Even though I didn’t personally shoot Mr. Brochardt, I am the reason that he died. If I hadn’t given Doug the gun, he wouldn’t have been able to carry out his plan. I am the reason that Mr. Borchardt is dead, just as much as if I had personally pulled the trigger.”

Maldonado recounts that after his 2025 sentence modification hearing, he met with members of the Borchardt family.

“Some of my biggest takeaways from that meeting were how much the Borchardt family continues to struggle with the very real hardships of having their loved one, Ruben (their father, son, brother, uncle, and friend), senselessly taken away from them,” he said. “I could see the sadness and heartache on their faces, and their anger was evident and justified.”

During that Oct. 9 hearing, a victim who is not named in the transcript, who identified as one of Ruben’s children, challenged Maldonado that he hadn’t publicly acknowledged the pain he had caused:

“Even today, as you stand here seeking early release, there has been no complete acknowledgment of the pain that you have caused or the life that you took. Without honesty and accountability, there can be no real healing for you, for us, or for anyone,” and the victim later added, “Your release should not come before repentance.”

The victim asked the court not to approve an early release, but to “let the sentence stand as a reminder that actions have consequences.”

Later in the same hearing, Maldonado apologized to the family and asked for forgiveness.

Asked for reasons he should be given a commutation, Maldonado wrote in his application that as a 47-year-old who has been reflecting on what he did when he was 15, he had matured into a man who is “reliable, responsible, disciplined, caring and loving.”

“Relief from a commutation would allow me to return to the community, family, and friends as a stable, employable, and fully rehabilitated adult who is prepared to contribute to the workforce and society,” he wrote. “My strongest impact will be through consistent employment and the public safety benefits that come from a structured, well-supported, planned re-entry.”

Maldonado added that he understood the “severity of his crime” and his role, but he also believed that justice had been served and would be further realized if he was given the opportunity “to further prove myself and my rehabilitative nature through being granted relief and having my sentence commuted by Governor Evers.”

The Examiner reached out to the Jefferson County District Attorney’s  victim witness program for a statement on Maldonado’s commutation application and also requested help with contacting victims who might want to make a statement. A spokesperson for the DA responded that  its policy is to not issue statements to the press or reveal third-party information. 

Maldonado’s application includes extensive documentation of his education, his volunteer work, and work history while in prison and offers specific details on his re-entry plan, including housing available and a job that is available in Milwaukee

His application also includes 23 letters of support, many from family members, as well as from others who worked with Maldonado in prison or met him while visiting relatives.  

Two letters are from parents, Mary Ann and Spriggie Hensley Sr. whose son was also incarcerated, and who got to know Maldonado over the years.

The package includes a letter from Adan Castellano of Waukegan, Illinois, who spent two years as Maldonado’s cellmate and says he has  seen him accept his circumstances and make decisions to make the best of his life.

There’s also a letter from the WISDOM Commutations Committee, including Beverly Walker, Sherry Reames, Tanya McMahon and Amanda Johnson.

“As the U.S Supreme Court and other authorities have noted, it is unjust to treat juveniles as if they were mature adults with fully developed brains and impulse control,” the WISDOM members write. “The Vera Institute of Justice argues that 15 years is usually long enough for a young offender to grow into a responsible adult. Michael has now spent over 30 years in prison — twice as long as his entire life before incarceration. We believe that he has already demonstrated his readiness for release by working hard, educating and improving himself, and making positive contributions to the community.”

A nurse at Kettle Moraine, Nicole Schwaller, who has worked with Maldonado for eight years and at the health services unit for four, said he “was always willing to tackle any tasks that were delegated to him and was trusted to work in our area because of his good conduct and work ethic.”

He also received support from a former correctional officer, Tina Bleich, who worked at Columbia Correctional Institution while Maldonado was there working in the print shop. “It is my opinion that if Michael Maldonado was released into the community, that he would not be a hazard,” she wrote. “I believe he would be a productive member of society.”

Wendy Heredia, a member of the advocacy group Justice Forward Wisconsin, said she’s known Maldonado for about eight years. She has helped him stay in touch with the outside world, including assisting with communication with his family. 

“He’s not the type of person to say, ‘I did this,’ or ‘I did that,’ or ‘Why can’t I get my second chance?” Heredia said. “He always tries to better himself in prison, because he said (that) if God’s plan was for me to stay here for the rest of my life, then that’s God’s plan, and I have to walk with that. But I want to do it the best way I can, so I can help others in their path, in their rehabilitation, so they can be successful community members.” 

Heredia said her husband was once incarcerated with Maldonado. She thinks that many juveniles with life sentences who started their time in prison stuck together. 

“All the children deserve this in Wisconsin,” Heredia said. “They deserve a second chance, a second look.”

Tom Denk, who was released from prison in 2022, told the Examiner that he met Maldonado at Kettle Moraine Correctional Institution, where they lived in the same unit of the prison for about eight months and talked on a few occasions while walking to work in the prison. Denk is the co-president of ESTHER, an advocacy group in northeast Wisconsin that works on criminal justice issues. 

While he didn’t get to know Maldonado in depth, Denk said Maldonado was soft-spoken and did not try to intimidate others or ask for special treatment, and he got the impression that other incarcerated people went to Maldonado for advice.

“If I would choose a poster boy for commutations for people that committed a crime when they were young and now deserve a chance to move on with their life, I would say that person is Mike,” Denk said. 

While consultants have recommended reforms to how Wisconsin addresses mental health in prison, the Wisconsin Department of Corrections reports obstacles in the way of many of the reforms, according to a document obtained by the Examiner. In Wisconsin’s adult prisons, nearly half of incarcerated people have a mental health diagnosis. 

“We are seeing that more and more individuals that come into our facilities are sicker than many of their peers in the community,” Jared Hoy, secretary of the Department of Corrections, said at a webinar in March. 

Hoy said he believes this is the result of a lack of affordable healthcare and mental health resources in the community. He said that people coming into the system may not have had consistent mental healthcare, meaning that clinicians are often trying to solve more advanced problems. 

“And we kind of become this safety net, to meet those needs that maybe have not been met in the community,” Hoy said. 

In November, the DOC released a report with recommendations for change to the prison system as part of its partnership with the consulting firm Falcon Correctional and Community Services, Inc. One recommendation involves keeping incarcerated people with a serious mental illness from ending up in restrictive housing — also known as solitary confinement — by instead sending them to alternative units if they commit a violation. 

The DOC reports that it is facing hurdles to implementing this proposal and some of the other recommendations for change to the prison system’s response to mental illness, according to a slideshow document received by the Examiner. 

Mental Health Director Kevin Kallas and Psychology Director Marlena Larson of the DOC presented the slideshow to a committee of the Wisconsin Mental Health Action Partnership, according to a member of MHAP who shared the document with the Examiner. The Department of Corrections did not respond to an inquiry about whether the agency produced the document. 

For some of the recommendations, the department indicated in the slideshow that it would need at least one of the following: additional staffing, material resources, new construction or remodeling, technology upgrades or significant changes to current policies or operations. Among the recommendations DOC said it needs more resources to address is sending people with a serious mental illness to a mental health unit instead of restrictive housing.

Falcon’s 137-page report stated that the majority of its recommendations will require funding, and often budget approval. 

It’s unclear whether the DOC’s understanding of what’s needed to implement the report’s recommendations has changed since agency officials presented the slideshow in March. A department spokesperson said Kallas was not available for an interview and did not respond to further requests for comment. 

It’s also unclear how much progress the DOC has made so far on putting Falcon’s ideas into action. In November, DOC communications director Beth Hardtke told the Examiner that after receiving the recommendations in the report, the DOC immediately began implementing many of the changes.

The Examiner reported last month on the process of implementing reforms laid out in the contract between the DOC and Falcon, which the Examiner obtained in mid-May. 

Susan Franzen of the prison reform advocacy group Ladies of SCI questioned the DOC slideshow’s representation that it does not have the resources to implement a proposal about providing meaningful out-of-cell time and programming to people on clinical observation. Franzen argued the agency can make change with the resources it has. Incarcerated people can be placed on clinical observation for a deteriorating mental illness or a risk of physical harm to self or others. 

“Because that seems to be a go-to all the time — of, if we have to get them out of their cell, we need more staff, we need more ‘this,’” Franzen said. “No, you need to be more creative in your scheduling and think outside the box.”

The Wisconsin DOC and many other corrections departments use  suicide-resistant cells for at-risk patients without regard for the specific causes of the individual patient’s problems, the Falcon report says. The report says that these cells are designed to minimize self-harm, but they don’t guarantee safety or provide what’s needed to reduce the patient’s risk of self-harm and help them become more resilient. 

The report promotes providing these incarcerated people with meaningful time out of their cells, as well as personalized re-assessment, treatment and programming.

Focusing on the most severe needs

Nearly half of people incarcerated in adult prisons are identified as needing mental health services, as of May 2025 — a “much higher” rate than other state correctional departments, according to the Falcon report. 

In the slideshow, DOC indicated its intent to focus more on patients with “acute needs or recurrent problematic behavior.”

An “unsustainable” number of incarcerated people have to be seen by psychological services every six months, and this interferes with the more intensive care needed for patients with higher needs, according to discussions with prison staff about mental health that were cited in the Falcon report. The report advises that the agency remove people who no longer need the infrequent appointments from the caseload.

While the report doesn’t delve into the impact of unfilled psychologist positions in the prison system,, the DOC is facing a vacancy rate of about 30% for psychological services staff.

Tom Denk was released from prison in 2022 and is now co-president of 

ESTHER, an advocacy group in northeast Wisconsin that works on criminal justice issues. He said there are more people with mental and physical illnesses in prison than outside it, and that most people in prison need some sort of care. 

“And out here, there’s a shortage of providers, so we can imagine how much more of a shortage there is when basically almost everyone really needs that kind of thing,” Denk said. 

Suicide watch 

The Falcon report includes recommendations for protocols when an incarcerated person is under observation due to a deteriorating mental illness or a risk of physical harm to self or others. In the slideshow, the DOC indicated the agency could implement a proposal to replace small sleeping mats with suicide-resistant mattresses.

The agency labeled the following recommendations in red, indicating there are obstacles to implementing them:  

• Moving clinical observation rooms out of restrictive housing and into more appropriate environments 
• Providing meaningful out-of-cell time and programming
• Reducing restraint use through increased use of one-on-one observation by staff
• Analyzing why someone ends up in suicide observation and developing targeted interventions 

At one of Wisconsin’s oldest prisons, Green Bay Correctional Institution, almost three quarters of incarcerated people have a mental illness diagnosis, as of a fiscal year 2025 report. 

Former GBCI officer Jeff Hoffman told the Examiner that he was the assigned sergeant in the restrictive housing unit, and saw these issues “up close and personal.”

“Staff working on these units aren’t properly trained to understand and deal with these individuals,” said Hoffman, who left the prison in early 2023 after almost 23 years. “We were trained in the security aspect. Not mental health.” 

Hoffman added that staffing levels are a concern, with staff either being too few in number or too tired from extra hours of work, and that mental health is an issue for staff and healthcare workers as well as incarcerated people. 

DOC policy states that adult prisons must provide at least six hours of mental health training to security staff at the start of their employment, including for suicide prevention, symptoms of mental illness and proper response to incarcerated people with mental health problems. Adult prisons are required to provide training to new employees on preventing staff suicide.

Adult prison staff who have contact with incarcerated people take an annual update training in suicide prevention, and prisons are required to conduct quarterly drills simulating staff members’ response to a suicide attempt by an incarcerated person. 

Green Bay Correctional saw “a large number” of episodes of self-harming and/or disruptive behavior, according to GBCI’s annual report for fiscal year 2025. The report attributes this to the “unique features” of the incarcerated population there, which reportedly includes a high number of young men, many of whom have “poor coping skills with lengthy prison sentences.” 

Suicide attempts, self-harm behaviors and threats of self harm have historically led to a high number of placements of incarcerated people on observation at the prison, the GBCI report said. There was a “drastic upward trend” in these placements in fiscal year 2025, with 900 observation placements to date, the GBCI report said. 

Hoffman said that staff frequently have to move incarcerated people to suicide observation for making false claims that they are going to commit suicide. According to psychologist and jail suicide expert Lisa Boesky, incarcerated people might resort to this as an attempt to be moved out of a chaotic housing unit or away from a cellmate, for example. Meanwhile, the rise in suicide threats within the prison puts additional pressure on the system. 

Solitary confinement 

In the slideshow, a few proposals for reform of restrictive housing — also called solitary confinement — were labeled green, meaning that the department could significantly implement those ideas. 

The Examiner reported last year on how the Department of Corrections employs incarcerated peer specialists to mentor their fellow prisoners. The department said it could review how certified peer specialists are used in restrictive housing units and expand their role. The agency also indicated it could continue efforts to limit the amount of time incarcerated people spend in solitary.

Denk said he didn’t hear about peer support when he was in prison, but that it’s a great help to staff and incarcerated people.

“I wish there was even more of that, because when it comes to clinical staff, there’s only so many of them,” Denk said. 

The following solitary confinement proposals were labeled red, meaning there are obstacles to implementing them:

• Providing each incarcerated person with at least two hours of time outside their cell each day. 
• Tracking how much time incarcerated people spend outside their cells in real time, and tracking their participation in programming. 
• Staff from different disciplines reviewing the “status, programming and needs” of people in solitary each week, instead of every 30 days. Under current policy, if a person has a solitary sentence of 60 days or more and a serious mental illness — such as schizophrenia or clinical depression — reviews must take place at least every other week.

Under another proposal marked red, the department would have a method to understand the root causes behind why an incarcerated person is repeatedly being placed in solitary confinement. Prison staff would develop individualized plans for these people to try to break the cycle. 

For example, if a person keeps ending up in solitary because they have received threats and fear the area of the prison where the general population of incarcerated people live, staff could work with the person to identify specific areas where they would feel safe, the Falcon report suggests.

Over two-thirds of people sent to restrictive housing for over 120 days were on the department’s lists of people identified to be receiving mental health services, the report found; 17% of people sent for over 120 days met the definition of having a “serious mental illness,” such as schizophrenia or clinical depression.

Incarcerated people can be placed in solitary due to safety concerns about them staying in the general population, but most placements are punishment for a violation. 

The Wisconsin Judicial Commission has again filed a complaint with the Wisconsin Supreme Court against Winnebago County Circuit Court Judge Scott Woldt, alleging the judge “engaged in misconduct,” by making degrading comments during his 2023 campaign and subsequently threatening lawyers who practiced in his court, as well as by making  condescending comments to a psychiatrist of Filipino descent offering expert testimony.

In a statement to the media, Judge Woldt’s legal counsel has disputed the allegations against him.

This is the second time Judge Woldt has had a complaint lodged by the judicial commission to the state’s highest court. In 2021, he was suspended for one week without pay due to a series of incidents from 2009 to 2016 involving “undignified” language he used in court and an incident where he revealed to visiting high school students a gun that he had in his possession.

The latest complaint filed on Aug. 3 cites three different issues.

On March 9, 2023, Woldt was interviewed on the “Eye on Oshkosh” YouTube platform, responding to questions during his campaign for another term as judge. During the interview, he was asked about tattoos on his body, and he explained the tattoos helped him avoid being recognizable as a judge, and he also noted that several death threats had been made against him.

Woldt said when asked in public whether he is a judge, his response would be, “I’m a sanitational (sic) engineer. I deal with society’s garbage.”

The WCF found Woldt’s language clashed with Supreme Court rules that compel judges to “promote public confidence in the integrity and impartiality of the judiciary” and “observe high standards of conduct so that the integrity and independence of the judiciary will be preserved.”

The complaint also alleges that after Woldt won his April 2023 reelection, three attorneys say Judge Woldt was resentful of them for not supporting his campaign and implied there would be retribution in his court.

Some of the allegations stem from an April 25, 2023 after-work social event at the Ruby Owl Tap Room near the courtroom. The complaint said the judge told a public defender, “Your office [the Public Defender’s office] has made some grave mistakes, and you made the worst [by not endorsing his campaign].”

The complaint says another attorney tried to shake Judge Woldt’s hand, but Woldt said the attorney had a campaign sign for Woldt’s opponent in his yard and reportedly said there would be consequences for supporting the opponent, reportedly adding, “You’re dead to me,” and advising the attorney to inform his clients of this position between the attorney and the judge.

The complaint states that the attorney asked Woldt how the situation could be made right, and the Judge reportedly responded: “This election personally cost me $28,000; write out a check and we are all good.”

According to  a May 1, 2024 story in the Oshkosh Herald by Bethanie Gengler, “the state judicial ethics panel has rarely acted on complaints,” notes an attorney by the name of Mathew Goldin from Oshkosh had filed a formal request for investigation to the judicial commission over a request for funds from Woldt. The investigation request became public when it was filed as an exhibit to a motion to have Woldt substituted as the presiding judge in a case involving Goldin.

The August 3 complaint cites another attorney who said he had declined a request by Judge Woldt for a campaign contribution, and later, when the attorney visited the judge in his chambers, Woldt reportedly told him “the free passes” for being late to court were no longer going to be offered.

The third situation involves a civil commitment case where the complaint describes an “experienced and local psychiatrist” of Filipino descent, acting as an expert witness, who was questioned by Woldt whether the doctor understood English or had hearing difficulties because Judge Woldt perceived she hadn’t stood up when Woldt entered the court.

The complaint cites Judge Woldt as saying, “From now on, when you come into a court of law and the bailiff says all rise, you better get off your butt. Do you understand me?”

The complaint cites probable cause with five Supreme Court rules that require judges to the following:

* 60.02: “to personally observe high standards of conduct so that the integrity and independence of the judiciary will be preserved.”

* 60.03 (1): “to act at all times in a manner that promotes public confidence in the integrity and impartiality of the judiciary.”

* 60.04 (1) (d): “to treat those with whom they deal in an official capacity with patience, dignity, and courtesy.”

* 60.04 (1) (e): “to perform judicial duties without bias or prejudice.”

*60.05 (1): “to conduct all of their extra-judicial activities so that they do not cast reasonable doubt on the judge’s capacity to act impartially as a judge or demean the judicial office.” 

The complaint said Judge Woldt was given notice of the allegations and had an opportunity in writing and a formal appearance before the judicial commission to present his side before the complaint was filed.

In response to media requests for a statement, Judge Woldt’s attorney provided the following statement:

“Judge Woldt has vigorously contested these charges since they were first raised and denies any wrongdoing of any kind. He has fully and properly performed his duties as a judge and, in his statements as a private citizen, has done nothing that any private citizen would not have done in exercising his constitutional right of free speech. He looks forward to complete exoneration consistent with the earlier determination by the bipartisan Election Commission, which rejected the similar complaints filed with it.”

The Madison police officer who killed Corey Ruiz, 38, in July has been identified by the Wisconsin Department of Justice (DOJ) as Keil Baitinger-Peterson. 

In a DOJ statement released Monday, Baitinger-Peterson is described as an officer with nearly 11 years of experience. The statement describes the events of July 22, when officers from the Madison Police Department responded to a call from the Marquette neighborhood where someone reported that a man was checking parked vehicles. 

The responding officers chased Ruiz, who fled from them on  a bicycle.  They caught up with him at the corner of Williamson and Baldwin streets, where they wrestled Ruiz to the ground in the middle of the street as bystanders captured video on their phones. 

Baitinger-Peterson can be seen on videos that were posted to social media firing several shots at Ruiz at close range.  Madison police officers do not wear  body cameras. The DOJ update reiterates statements made by Madison Police Chief John Patterson that Ruiz was carrying a knife — which was recovered from the scene — and injured Baitinger-Peterson before the officer fired. The DOJ statement also mentions that one other officer was injured, but it does not describe the nature of the injury. 

Both Baitinger-Peterson and the other unnamed officer were treated at a local hospital and released, the update states, adding that Ruiz was transported to a hospital and pronounced  dead. Bystander video shows an officer on the scene attempting medical aid immediately after the shooting, then ceasing. All four involved officers, including Baitinger-Peterson, have been placed on administrative leave.

The DOJ is leading the investigation into Ruiz’s killing, with support from the Dane County Sheriff’s Office, Wisconsin State Patrol and the Sun Prairie Police Department. After the investigation is concluded, it will be turned over to Dane County District Attorney Ismael Ozanne, who  will decide whether or not to charge Baitinger-Peterson. Chief Patterson said that the incident is being handled as a criminal homicide investigation.

Just hours after the shooting, community members began to gather at the intersection where Ruiz was killed, where they constructed  a memorial and blocked off the streets. 

Last week the city and police agencies forcibly cleared the memorial site as  residents and city officials continue to grapple  with the fallout of Ruiz’s death.

While Madison attempts to respond to the police killing of Corey Ruiz on July 22, a dispute has emerged within city government over the authority of the city’s independent police monitor to subpoena materials related to the incident from the police department and the Wisconsin Department of Justice. 

In the weeks since Ruiz was killed, the city has seen the occupation of a major intersection, standoffs with police as the city moved to reclaim the occupied area, a marathon common council meeting and continued tensions between elected officials and the people they’ve empowered to oversee the city’s cops. 

Aeiramique Glass, the city’s independent police monitor, has drawn criticism for getting into an altercation with police officers while they worked to clear the intersection of Williamson and South Baldwin Streets early Tuesday morning and later saying in a now-deleted video posted to social media that she would “burn this city down.” 

Mayor Satya Rhodes-Conway said “it’s disturbing anytime a city employee is calling for violence,” while reiterating the independence of Glass’ office. William Sulton, a Milwaukee-based civil rights attorney hired by Glass to represent the office, said she was making a “figurative, idiomatic expression.”

Glass’ position was established by the common council in 2020 as part of the city’s response to the widespread police reform protests that summer. The Office of the Independent Monitor and the Police Civilian Oversight Board were established and given independence from the mayor’s office and council. 

Madison is the only city in the state with such a civilian oversight system, and this is the first time the system has had to respond to a police killing, meaning that as the board and office work to investigate Ruiz’s death, they’re testing the limits of the ordinance granting them those powers for the first time. 

Within the ordinance establishing the OIM, the city gave the office complete access to MPD documents and the authority to issue subpoenas — so long as those provisions don’t conflict with other laws. 

“The OIM shall, to the extent permitted by law, have unfettered access to all MPD records, policies, Standard Operating Procedures, data, computer databases, and other information necessary to fulfill the duties of the OIM,” the ordinance states. “The Monitor may, to the extent permitted by law, issue subpoenas for the purpose of compelling testimony or receiving documents necessary to fulfill the duties of the OIM.”

Soon after Ruiz was killed, Glass opened her own investigation and issued a subpoena to the police department demanding all records related to the shooting be handed over to her office by July 31. 

However, under state law, when a police officer kills someone, the investigation must be conducted by an outside agency. In this case, the Wisconsin Department of Justice’s Division of Criminal Investigation is handling the review. DCI’s investigative report will be turned over to Dane County District Attorney Ismael Ozanne, who will determine if the officer who killed Ruiz should be charged with a crime. 

Glass, members of the oversight board and activists in the community have argued that the ordinance establishing OIM granting “unfettered access” to police department materials and subpoena authority means that the department should hand over its materials related to the shooting — including dash cam videos, 911 call recordings, a list of officers on duty and communications with the chief of police. 

“We have a mandate and an ordinance that says we are to have unfettered access to all of MPD’s records, databases, video footage, everything,” Glass told the Examiner. “There’s no limit to what we are able to and should have access to.”

But the city attorney’s office, MPD and city officials say that limits on the office’s subpoena authority are set under state law. Once the independent investigation started, all of those materials, initially under the purview of the department, are now controlled by DOJ and state law prevents the release of evidence and materials pertaining to an open criminal investigation. 

Because DOJ is investigating a government employee, state law also prevents the release of “information relating to the current investigation of a possible criminal offense or possible misconduct connected with employment by an employee prior to disposition of the investigation.”

“I think the case is clearly made [that] we can’t interfere with a criminal investigation,” Madison Alder Tag Evers told the Examiner. “The concern is the release of that information could compromise the ongoing investigation and if it’s determined prosecution is warranted, complicate or interfere with the prosecution of a crime.”

DOJ’s work in these cases can often be slow and clash with the public’s demands for answers. The Examiner has previously reported on the flaws of the independent investigation system. 

 A spokesperson for DOJ did not respond to a request for comment.

The argument over the limits of the Madison independent monitor’s subpoena power have resulted in dueling FAQ pages on the city’s website in which the mayor’s office says it is limited in what can be released and Glass accuses the city attorney and mayor of helping the police department obstruct her investigation. 

This dispute was explicitly predicted when the common council drafted the ordinance in 2020. In a pair of memos to the council, City Attorney Michael Haas wrote that giving the independent monitor  subpoena power without explicitly outlining its limits could lead to legal challenges.

“It is the opinion of our Office that the Council may enact an ordinance providing subpoena authority to the Independent Monitor,” the memo states. “Where there is no contrary statutory provision or contractual right, we would expect such subpoenas to be enforceable.  It is less clear that a subpoena issued in the course of an investigation, or in a case which could lead to a disciplinary decision by the Police Chief or PFC, would be held to be enforceable if challenged.” 

Haas’ memo also directly addresses the question of officer-involved shooting investigations. 

“It may also be useful to note that, under [the statute], all officer-involved shooting deaths are investigated in the first instance by an outside law enforcement agency rather than by MPD, and that the Monitor would not be entitled to participate in such investigations,” the memo states. 

At a meeting of the Police Civilian Oversight Board Executive Subcommittee on Wednesday, Haas and board members continued to debate the issue.

“People cannot deny that the words ‘to the extent permitted by law,’ are in the ordinances, and I think that has been consistently overlooked when people simply talk about unfettered access and subpoena authority,” said Haas, whose office is working to release an official opinion on the issue. “Those words were intentionally put in the ordinances, and that means we have to look to existing Wisconsin law.”

But members of the board and independent monitor staff suggested that Haas’ office should seek outside legal opinions on the matter and charged that the city attorney’s office has a conflict of interest in the matter. Glass has asserted several times that the ordinance’s grant of independence to her office means that the city attorney doesn’t represent the office — a claim that city officials also dispute. 

“There’s an inherent structural conflict of interest between city attorney offices and police oversight agencies,” the independent monitor’s data analyst Greg Gelembiuk said at the Wednesday meeting. “You can see this play out again and again and again across cities in the U.S. City attorney’s offices are very enmeshed with police departments, and of course, the mayor’s office. They have a primary role of risk management. Police oversight agencies have a primary role of investigating police, exposing the truth. Those roles are in conflict, and because of that, you have a universal pattern where you cannot rely on the opinions of the city attorney’s office to be accurate and valid.” 

Glass has hired an outside attorney, Milwaukee-based William Sulton, to represent the office, telling the Examiner that she has “the ability to take full legal action that is available to us.” Sulton did not respond to a request for comment. 

Glass has previously threatened to sue the city over the limits of her authority, a legal action that itself is in dispute because even though the ordinance grants the office independence, it is still a city department and a city can’t sue itself. 

“The basic law in Wisconsin is that one city agency cannot sue another city agency. City agencies are all part of the same organization and one arm cannot sue another arm,” Haas told the Madison alternative newspaper Isthmus during the previous episode. “City agencies have the authority delegated to them in the ordinances and cannot file lawsuits independent of the city.”

When the Wisconsin Commutation Advisory Board meets on August 21 to review 12 applications for a commutation, a form of executive clemency Gov. Tony Evers can order to shorten or modify a criminal sentence, each board member’s recommendation will be based, in part, on the perception of the applicant’s likelihood of re-offend.

The applicants and those who support them will be making their appeals based on evidence that they are ready to return to society and deserve another chance.

The commutation application asks the applicants to provide reasons for how a commutation would “assist with your rehabilitation and benefit the community.” The applicant is asked to provide a list of programs they participated in while incarcerated, education and certification, and other achievements, along with a re-entry plan detailing such things as employment prospects, where they would obtain housing and other resources.

As part of the process, there will be statements by the judge who sentenced the applicant, along with input from the district attorney who brought the charges, and testimony of victims that will be weighed.

Two factors that data has shown to be critical to predict lower recidivism — older age upon release and longer sentences served prior to release — have been designed into the commutation criteria by requiring applicants to serve at least half of their incarceration or at least 20 years of a life sentence. Requiring them to serve at least half their sentence ensures that when they are eligible to apply, they are older and therefore statistically less likely to re-offend.

In an April 2026 report by the Wisconsin Policy Forum, “Cross Examination: a comprehensive review of the Wisconsin criminal justice system,” data compiled from the Wisconsin Department of Corrections shows that people in prison who are over the age of  40 had a much lower three-year recidivism/reincarceration rate than younger people. Those 60 or older had the lowest rate at 12.3% followed by those 50-59 at 19%. Those who were 40-49 years old had a rate of 25.7%.

The Policy Forum report also  found those who had served a sentence of five or more years were significantly less likely to end up back in prison compared to those who had served less than five years: 18.5% compared to more than 32%.

A 2017 report from the United States Sentencing Commission looking at the effects of aging on recidivism among 25,431 federal offenders released after 2005 noted that  “numerous recidivism studies document well that older offenders are at lower risk for reoffending, and the Commission’s own research has confirmed this finding for federal offender populations.”

One of the commission’s key findings is that “Over an eight-year follow-up period, 13.4% of offenders age 65 or older at the time of release were rearrested compared to 67.6% of offenders younger than age 21 at the time of release.”

A 2022 report by the California parole board notes that of 4,197 persons serving a life sentence in that state released via a parole board ruling between 2011 and  2018 just 2.7% or 114 persons had been charged with a new misdemeanor or felony and only 0.5% were again convicted of a felony against another person.

The California report doesn’t include the average ages of those released via parole or how many years they served prior to release. However, a 2011 study by Stanford Law School, “Life in Limbo,” found that the average age of most people serving a life sentence who were released from prison was 49.9.

When Gov. Evers opened the commutation process via his two executive orders on April 4, he included a special application for juvenile life sentence commutation for those who were convicted of a crime at 19 years of age or younger.

Wisconsin advocates have pushed the state Legislature since 2023 to allow re-sentencing for juveniles who were given a life sentence. A bill introduced in the last legislative session would have allowed resentencing for those who had served at least 20 years of a sentence for a crime involving a death or 15 for crimes that did not involve a death. They pointed to two studies from Pennsylvania involving a large-scale release of juvenile lifers sentenced to life in prison as minors. The studies found that the recidivism rate was very low.

Pennsylvania began a resentencing process for youth lifers in 2017 after the landmark Supreme Court decision in 2012 Miller v. Alabama that ruled mandatory life sentences without parole were unconstitutional for those under age 18, in part, because of brain science that shows youth are still cognitively developing and therefore should not  be held to the same standard as adults. Later, in 2016, the Supreme Court ruled in Montgomery v. Louisiana that the Miller decision applied retroactively, “invalidating all juvenile life-without-parole sentences that had been mandated by statute.”

Most of the juvenile lifers in Pennsylvania — 62% — had been convicted of first degree murder, while 38% had been convicted of second  degree murder. Out of 521 youth lifers in Pennsylvania, 459 were resentenced and 323 became eligible for parole and 230 were released.

Of the 174 who had been released from prison from Philadelphia County the average age at release was 51. As of December 2019, only two had been re-arrested and convicted of a new crime and both were considered “low level.”

The most helpful factors for reintegration, another Pennsylvania study found, were family connectedness, stable housing, employment, support groups, transportation and access to healthcare – similar factors considered in the Wisconsin commutation applications.

Amidst a heat wave in Madison, people who were once incarcerated in Wisconsin’s prison system and supporters gathered Wednesday morning to protest outside the Wisconsin Department of Corrections central office. 

Speakers supported a lower prison population, better living conditions for incarcerated people and independent oversight of the prison system, which has been the target of criticism for a rash of deaths in custody as well as conditions of confinement in aging, understaffed facilities.

“There’s a severe overcrowding crisis in Wisconsin’s prison system right now,” said Mark Rice, transformational justice campaign coordinator for the nonprofit advocacy group WISDOM. Rice said the crisis is creating dangerously unstable conditions for people who work in the prisons as well as incarcerated people. 

In October, the State of Wisconsin Building Commission voted to release $15 million to prepare preliminary plans and a design report for a prison system revamp, a first step toward large-scale structural change to the system of prison facilities.

Rice urged people to get out and vote, and said voters should talk with candidates and elected officials about the state of Wisconsin’s corrections system. He referenced WISDOM’s gubernatorial candidate forum last month. 

“I want to see candidates have the courage to step up and talk about these issues, too,” Rice said. 

The Wisconsin Department of Corrections provided a detailed statement in response to a request for comment from the Examiner, replying to the criticisms of Wisconsin’s corrections system from activists. 

The department first directed the Examiner to the last four state budgets proposed by Gov. Tony Evers, “much of which were rejected by the Republican-controlled Legislature,” communications director Beth Hardtke said. 

“Beyond that, you will need to ask lawmakers what their plans are to address Wisconsin’s corrections challenges and move our correctional system into the 21st Century,” she said.

Different portrayals of solitary confinement

Activists at the protest and the DOC differed in their descriptions of what it’s like to experience solitary confinement in the Wisconsin prison system. 

Rice told the Examiner that stories shared about solitary confinement and “other inhumane conditions of confinement” during his group’s virtual meetings had inspired the protest. At an event covered by the Examiner last year, people who experienced solitary confinement described it as traumatizing, and questioned its effectiveness as a way to change behavior as well as arguing that incarcerated people are sometimes put in solitary for things they shouldn’t be punished for. 

Talib Akbar of the WISDOM affiliate MOSES showed the Examiner a portable replica of a solitary confinement cell inside a truck, which was parked in the Department of Corrections parking lot during the protest. 

Akbar, who said he left prison in 2013, said the truck is based on a replica constructed by Edgewood College over a decade ago. That replica was based on Akbar’s own experience in solitary confinement. 

Hot days, like the day of the protest, can bring an additional burden for people in prisons, many of whom do not have access to air conditioning. 

Crystal Keller of FREE Movement, which focuses on women impacted by the justice system, said she’s been raising her grandson while her daughter has been incarcerated at Taycheedah Correctional Institution. She said her daughter is currently in restrictive housing, also known as solitary confinement. 

“Because she doesn’t have access to a tablet, my daughter and I are limited to one 15-minute phone call every nine or 10 days,” Keller said, adding that she can’t visit her daughter in person in restrictive housing and that logging onto video visits requires driving more than an hour each way. 

Hardtke, the DOC communications director, said in her statement to the Examiner that the “popular image” of restrictive housing often shows a “small dark room,” which she said is inaccurate. 

“I should also note that the popular image of restrictive housing often shows a small dark room,” Hardtke said. “It’s not accurate. The cells in the restricted housing unit at Waupun Correctional Institution, for example, have windows where individuals can see outdoors. Individuals can control their own lights in their cells. Clocks are hung to be visible from every cell front.”

Hardtke stated that people in disciplinary separation — people sent to solitary confinement because they were found to have committed a violation — “still have plenty of human interaction each day.” She attached a copy of a restrictive housing policy and said it lays out that a person is supposed to be kept there for the “minimum amount of time necessary to help them change their behavior.”

“They have access to visits, recreation, therapy and programming in their cell and on the restrictive housing unit,” Hardtke said. “Communication with family and others is not cut off. Individuals in disciplinary separation also have the opportunity to be released back into the general population after serving only half of their sentence if their behavior in restrictive housing is appropriate.”

A report the DOC released in November from its partnership with Falcon Inc., a consulting and management firm, took a different tone on solitary confinement. 

The DOC has contracted with the firm to implement a series of reform proposals, the Examiner reported earlier this month.

The Falcon report released in November stated that out-of-cell programming and recreation time is “very limited,” and that each individual in restrictive housing should receive a minimum of two hours of out-of-cell time per day for recreation and/or programming, not including necessary activities like showers. 

A person involved with the Wisconsin Mental Health Action Partnership (MHAP), which aims to improve mental health care in Wisconsin, sent the Examiner a slideshow dated March of this year that the DOC reportedly presented to one of the group’s committees. 

The slideshow indicates that the Department of Corrections was stating that the agency would need at least one of the following to provide two hours of out-of-cell time per day for each person in restrictive housing: additional staffing, material resources, new construction or remodeling, technology upgrades or significant changes to current policies or operations. 

The Falcon report also stated that restrictive housing initiatives still require support, particularly to improve conditions for incarcerated people and staff. It made a series of recommendations that aim to decrease the overall use of restrictive housing and improve living conditions, though the slideshow indicates the DOC stated further change is needed before some of these recommendations are feasible.

The report also noted potential negative effects of solitary confinement in general (not specifically analyzing Wisconsin) including physical harm and negative effects on mental health and overall well-being, as well as an increased risk for self-harm and suicide. 

Calls for oversight

One speaker at the protest read a statement from the prison reform advocacy group Ladies of SCI, calling for an ombudsman office for corrections that would help address complaints about prison problems, instead of relying on the prison system’s internal complaint process. 

Prison reform activists have been calling for Wisconsin to join the ranks of states with independent prison oversight bodies since at least 2024. Hardtke told the Examiner that the Department of Corrections supported Evers’ plan to create a DOC ombudsperson’s office, which the governor proposed as part of the last state budget. 

“Again, that is not something the agency can do without legislative action and funding,” Hardtke said. 

Last year, Evers proposed an Office of the Ombudsperson for Corrections that would have been attached to the Department of Corrections, which was removed by lawmakers. Wisconsin Public Radio reported that officials with Evers’ administration said the office would operate in a “functionally independent” manner. 

“We’d much rather see it be completely separate to stay with the purpose of an ombudsman,” Susan Franzen of Ladies of SCI told the Examiner over email last year. “But we would be supportive of any movement towards some sort of oversight at this point.” Rebecca Aubart, of the same group, said that if the office Evers proposed was not independent, it could not be properly described as an ombudsman. 

In February 2025, Wisconsin Public Radio reported that Senate President Mary Felzkowski (R-Tomahawk) criticized the proposal, stating that “de facto lifetime appointments (which the ombudsperson appears to be), almost a dozen new bureaucrats, and millions of dollars are not creative solutions.” 

Overcrowded prisons, especially for women

Yolanda Perkins, of FREE Movement, said that overcrowding in prisons is “suffocating,” not just uncomfortable, and is an environment where mental health breaks down. 

“Women are entering into a system, carrying (trauma already), and instead of receiving care, they are met with long waits, limited access or no support at all,” Perkins said. “Pain that can be treated is ignored until it becomes a crisis.”

In May, Wisconsin Watch reported that the state’s three women’s prisons collectively housed 18 women for every 10 the prisons were designed to hold, and that they were the most crowded of all state facilities. 

In a court filing in April, the DOC said that due to overcrowding, Taycheedah Correctional Institution, a women’s prison, had already undergone conversions to turn spaces into living areas that were not originally meant to be living areas.

Wisconsin Watch reported that Hardtke said beds have previously been set up in the gym at Taycheedah but that no one was currently living in the gym. Hardtke said staff were converting a “former property room” into a dormitory to house 20 women.

This isn’t unheard of for Taycheedah. A 2020 draft report on the DOC’s website indicates that at the time of the report, 340 incarcerated women were living in two “very old buildings” that had been converted into correctional housing. Some group rooms and an office space in those buildings 

Most of the 50-square-foot maximum security, non-segregated cells at the often-scrutinized Green Bay and Waupun Correctional Institutions were being used for double occupancy, and failed to meet standards such as the American Correctional Association Standards for Adult Correctional Institutions.

The Examiner reported in April on how the DOC has said it wants a program that would allow eligible incarcerated women to live with their babies within prison walls but that this is “currently impossible” in the existing prison system. The department cited a lack of sufficient funding and overcrowding in women’s prisons. 

Hardtke said that the Department of Corrections’ role in the justice system is to carry out the sentence the courts impose on a person as well as provide opportunities for rehabilitation and skills so that people can successfully return to communities. 

Except under limited circumstances such as the earned release program, the department doesn’t have the ability to alter a person’s sentence, Hardtke said, adding that reducing the prison population would require legislative changes and resources. 

Community corrections

At the protest, Rice argued that the Department of Corrections needs to put fewer people back behind bars for breaking a rule of their supervision in the community without committing a new crime. 

Rice argued that the money that’s being “wasted” on this type of revocation could be used to help incarcerated people return to the community. 

In her statement to the Examiner, Hardtke argued that while advocates highlight cases where a person’s community supervision was revoked for violating the rules of supervision, most individuals returned to prison have their supervision revoked for criminal behavior. 

Hardtke said that the DOC’s research and policy team recently looked at revocations for 2024 and 2025 to determine how many were solely for rules violations. She said that in 2025, 6,952 people had their community supervision revoked for a criminal offense and 1,188 individuals were revoked because of a non-criminal rules violation. 

In 2024, 7,064 people were revoked for a criminal offense and 1,026 were revoked for a non-criminal rules violation, she said. 

On June 19, Gov. Tony Evers announced the names of eight appointees to the newly formed Commutation Advisory Board he created by executive order on April 4.

Under the governor’s authority in the Wisconsin Constitution, a commutation, which is a shortening or a modification of a criminal sentence, is one of the governor’s powers of clemency along with pardons and reprieves.

Evers said in his executive order creating the board that offering commutations “promotes rehabilitation by providing a system that rewards the positive efforts of incarcerated individuals who demonstrate personal growth and a commitment to change with the possibility of a second chance to contribute to society, become productive members of their communities, make amends, and improve their lives and those of the people around them.” 

One of the eight appointees is Noble Wray, 66, a career police officer who served as Madison’s police chief from 2004-2013. He was a member of Gov. Evers’ Pardon Advisory Board from 2019-2025 where he reviewed applications, including asking applicants why they believed they merited a pardon. In an interview, he spoke with the Examiner about why he chose to serve on the commutations board and the unique perspective he brings to the role. 

Why did you want to serve on the board?

“In total, I’m 100% in support of commutations,” said Wray. “I think it’s critical for the criminal justice system to have something like this in place.”

On the Pardon Advisory Board, Wray said he was inspired by stories of people who took accountability for their lives and were making meaningful changes.

“I’ve worked or reviewed just about every part of the criminal justice system during my career,” he said, “and nothing has been more personally fulfilling than the pardon board.”

He agreed to be on the Commutation Advisory Board, he said, because he believes people in prison who are trying to make constructive changes to become productive citizens should have an incentive to pursue those changes. He believes it’s important for the state to support  successful reentry into society, focusing on employment, family support, treatment and accessing services.

“Being involved in criminal justice reform for so long and understanding that you can’t just look at a system that has punishment as its only motivation — human beings are more complex than that,” he said. “There are people that we know that can contribute to society, and the system, the structure must provide triggers, must provide systems to acknowledge those folks, both in prison and when they have completed their time.”

But he also acknowledged an applicant might not be ready for a commutation.

“I’m here to tell you, the first to tell you, it may not be for everyone,” he said. “It may be that someone just needs time to think through what they’ve done and to really grasp and understand it. It may be, you know, taking college credits. It may be working while they’re in prison on vocational training.”

What is the importance of the Commutation Advisory Board?

Wray emphasized that the advisory board brings together members  from different backgrounds in the criminal justice and social services system, with diverse experiences, who will challenge one another and offer varied perspectives.

“So you know I support commutations,” he said. “But you know what? I am a cop. I’ve lived my whole life being a cop, and bottom line, I want to make sure that people in the community and out on the streets are safe, that neighborhoods are safe. So if I see something or hear something that I think is going to compromise that, I’m going to push back.”

At the same time, he added, someone who has  a different perspective could see something he doesn’t perceive.

“What I hope we would get out of this is that we really hear what the people are saying that are requesting a commutation,” he said. ”And we really review the information and make the best decision, balancing the need to have a human being get back into Wisconsin society and make a contribution to Wisconsin society, balancing that with ensuring that no one will be harmed in any way, shape or form by this person.”

Asked about the pressure to ensure that the board doesn’t make a bad decision, leading to more harm caused by someone whose sentence is commuted,  Wray drew on his experience  as a police officer. It’s wrong, he said, to treat an entire neighborhood as being made up of criminals when only a few people are causing problems. He said the same standard should be applied to commutations, not letting one person’s bad actions ruin the chances for others who are trying to change their lives.

“Politically, people will get up and say, ‘Hey, this thing failed because one person did this,’” Wray said. “How sad is that when you can help others? Now, again, I understand you can’t place all of the emphasis on helping someone that has done something wrong to society, but if everything is totally punishment, you don’t have a balance” between punishment of the crime and rehabilitation of the offender.  “That’s why the numbers stay the same, because you don’t have a balance,” he added, referring to Wisconsin’s prison population which is on track to break the record set in 2019 of 23,826 people behind bars, many more than the state’s prison system was designed to hold.

Asked if he knew how the advisory board would evaluate applications for those who meet the minimum criteria to apply, Wray said he thought it would be similar to the Pardon Advisory Board, but also noted that there is no official guideline yet.

“We’re supposed to come together and meet and discuss that,” he said, adding that he expects it will involve “exercising some discretion.”

What perspective do you bring to the Commutation Advisory Board?

Wray said his background in law enforcement and his work on other boards will inform his work on the commutation board. 

“My common background being law enforcement, that I spent 30 years attempting to reduce fear, harm and disorder in the Madison area …  that’s really, you know, where it starts,” he said.  “I also bring a perspective of dealing with people at a level that probably no one gets to see other than a police officer, and that is in that hour of need, hour of distress, or when it happens, you’re out there … it’s that intimate time of a crisis or call or problem that very few people will see.”

He added that a police officer has to hold people accountable while also supporting and caring for victims, and “doing it with humility and with practical wisdom. I think that I bring that perspective.”

Wray also noted his experience consulting across the United States and internationally as an expert in police reform, police culture and implicit bias in policing.

“We don’t talk about this, but there is a financial cost to justice,” Wray added, “and if it’s not properly handled, if we’re too focused on arresting and incarcerating people, there is a cost, but there’s also a financial cost if we’re not doing the right thing by keeping communities safe.”

Finally, reflecting on his experience both in law enforcement and in his work on criminal justice reform, Wray said, “I just wish that more people could see when redemption is exercised properly.”

The seven other appointees to the commutation board include Maryann Sumi, a former Dane County Circuit Judge; David Meany, a former Ashland County District Attorney; Jerome Dillard, a criminal justice advocate and former executive director of EXPO (Ex-incarcerated People Organizing); Kathy Byrne Stilling, a former public defender, criminal defense attorney and retired Waukesha County Circuit Judge; Jonathan Scharrer, University of Wisconsin Law School professor and Director of the Restorative Justice Project; Geri Segal, the former executive director of Family Support Center in Chippewa Valley;  and Kat Kasmaule, program and policy analyst for the Wisconsin Department of Children and Families and a former child protection case manager.

The eight will join chair Mel Barnes, Evers’ chief legal counsel, and vice chair Cindy O’Donnell, a corrections veteran.

In 2025, the number of adults in Wisconsin prisons for drunk driving and other Operating While Intoxicated offenses was four times higher than it was in 2000, according to a report published Thursday by the Wisconsin Policy Forum. 

The report describes Wisconsin’s penalties for initial OWI convictions as generally less severe than those in neighboring states, but says Wisconsin has among the most severe penalties for the most serious convictions. 

A record number of 1,313 adults entered the Wisconsin prison system in 2023 for OWI offenses, though declining admissions over the next two years suggest that “they may now be trending downward,” the forum said in its press release. 

In December 2025, 2,750 adults were incarcerated in Wisconsin prisons for OWI offenses, which doesn’t include people incarcerated in local jails for lower-level offenses. People incarcerated for OWIs make up a larger share of people in Wisconsin prisons than they used to, the report found, from about 3% in 2000 to about 12% in 2025. These numbers declined from 2024 to 2025 but remain higher than they once were. Black Wisconsinites and American Indian/Alaska Native Wisconsinites are overrepresented in Wisconsin prisons for OWIs.  

 

From 2020 to 2024, incarceration for OWI offenses rose sharply, the report states. A backlog of OWI cases in the court system, changes in behavior and policies that increased penalties for people who have committed four or more OWI offenses may have contributed to this trend. 

OWI arrest data suggests that Wisconsin may be making fewer arrests for less severe drunk driving and more arrests for severe or repeat offenses, with less arrests overall, the report states. 

The state is facing prison overcrowding and increasing financial and human costs of the prison system and a “relationship with alcohol use that many public health leaders view as problematic,” the report states. 

It lists a series of measures that policymakers could consider to address the problem without increasing incarceration for OWIs. It says these are strategies being used in other states that have been shown to reduce consumption of alcohol or drunk driving. 

Some of these ideas involve more programming:

• State funding for alcohol age compliance check programs 
• More Wisconsin communities implementing a Place of Last Drink program, in which police can identify bars and restaurants where people last consumed alcohol before committing an OWI, aiding local data to address drunk driving
• Creating OWI or hybrid courts that help connect people charged with OWIs to programs or resources that may be more likely to prevent another OWI than a regular sentence, especially in areas where these courts are less common, such as northern Wisconsin. 
• Improving access to substance use programs in Wisconsin prisons by increasing funding
• Giving people better options for alternative transportation after they have consumed alcohol, particularly in rural areas

Other ideas involve new restrictions: 

• Imposing higher taxes on one or more types of alcohol
• Limiting alcohol licenses for retailers, or reduce alcohol permits (Wisconsin has one alcohol outlet per 345 people, the report states,  citing the Medical College of Wisconsin, far above the national average)
• Reducing the legal BAC limit to 0.05% as recommended by the National Transportation Safety Board
• Decreasing the days and hours during which retailers can sell alcohol