Understanding Vermont’s Bail System and the Path to Justice Reform

If the only tool you have is a hammer, everything starts to look like a nail. If the only facility you have is a prison, everything starts to look like a crime. 

As we’ve moved toward deinstitutionalization—closing state-run mental health facilities and dismantling systems meant to support those in crisis—we’ve created a vacuum with few alternatives. Today, too many are funneled into three inadequate and overburdened options: emergency rooms, prisons, or the streets. None of these are designed to handle the complexities of mental health or provide the long-term support people need.

Our correctional system, in particular, has become the de facto substitute for the care we’ve failed to provide elsewhere, straining its capacity and further criminalizing mental illness, addiction, and poverty. This is a direct result of systemic neglect and a refusal to create tools that actually fit the job. Until we prioritize investment in comprehensive support systems, we’ll keep forcing people into spaces ill-equipped to help them, perpetuating harm instead of healing.

There’s been a lot of conversation in our community about public safety, accountability, and the perception of “catch and release” in Vermont’s justice system. These are valid concerns, and I want to take this opportunity to clarify how Vermont’s bail statutes work, why they exist as they do, and how they address systemic issues while avoiding the pitfalls of mass incarceration.

Vermont’s bail system is designed to uphold fairness and the presumption of innocence. Bail is not meant to punish individuals who have been charged but not convicted of a crime, nor is it intended to hold people indefinitely without due process. Instead, it ensures that individuals awaiting trial can return to their lives, jobs, and families—unless they meet specific legal criteria for being held without bail or present as a flight risk.

Let’s start with the facts. A significant portion of Vermont’s incarcerated population is being held pretrial (approximately 40%), meaning they have not been convicted of a crime. While Vermont has strict parameters for when someone can be held without bail, those who are detained face a reality that should concern us all: their incarceration is costly, both in financial and human terms, and it perpetuates cycles of instability rather than addressing root causes.

The truth is, our prisons have become substitutes for what we truly need: robust investments in affordable housing, healthcare, and mental health services. These are areas where Vermont—and much of the country—has underfunded the very systems that could prevent crime in the first place. Warehousing people in prisons is not rehabilitation, and it’s far more expensive in the long run.

I want to address a potential question: how does advocating for bail reform align with my continuing support for replacing the existing correctional facility for justice-involved women? The answer lies in a principle I hope we can all agree on—harm reduction. Vermont’s current system is failing many of the most vulnerable among us, and while we urgently work toward systemic reform, we cannot ignore the harm caused by inadequate facilities or lack of support for those already in the justice system.

The new correctional facility is not a celebration of the status quo, but a necessary step to protect the dignity, safety, and well-being of incarcerated women, many of whom are disproportionately impacted by domestic violence, gaps in housing, healthcare, and mental health services. Similarly, investments like the Overdose Prevention Center (OPC) reflect this same philosophy: providing resources, support, and pathways to recovery instead of relying on incarceration to manage societal challenges. Both the new facility and the OPC are examples of harm reduction—practical solutions to address immediate needs while we work to build a better, more equitable system. I’m actually very worried by the fact that the Governor’s proposed budget has offered no additional funding for a new women’s facility and what this stall in design and construction will mean for Vermont women and Vermont workers who will continue to languish in the abhorrent conditions found within the current facility.

For those who worry about public safety and accountability, I want to stress that our judges—not prosecutors—determine bail conditions. They do so based on existing statutes that prioritize fairness and accountability. Shifting blame to the state’s attorney or demanding harsher bail practices ignores the complexities of the system and risks violating the constitutional rights of those accused but not convicted of a crime. I’m grateful that our own Ward 1 resident and recent City Councilor, Tim Doherty, was named as one of the four recently appointed judges to the Vermont Superior Court. Adding judges and expanding the judiciary will help our court backlogs in significant ways. I hope Tim will join the discussion if I’m providing inaccurate information.

I believe we can and should do better. Vermont should seriously consider eliminating cash bail altogether—a system that disproportionately impacts low-income individuals and creates a two-tiered system of justice. Instead, we could expand pretrial monitoring programs and invest in the social supports that keep people from entering the justice system in the first place.

The “lock them up” mentality may feel like an immediate solution, but it’s not sustainable, effective, or fair. Public safety comes from addressing the root causes of crime—poverty, housing insecurity, mental health crises, addiction—not from warehousing people in expensive facilities that don’t rehabilitate.

I encourage all of us to reflect on the role of our justice system in creating the community we want to live in. By focusing on fairness, rehabilitation, and smarter investments in social supports, we can create a Vermont that is both safer and more just.

Let’s continue this conversation. If you have thoughts or questions, I’m always happy to hear from you.