Early studies on the electronic monitoring of prisoners and other minor offenders began in the early 1960s, but the technology didn't reach maturity until the 1980s. When exploring its adoption in the United States, we discovered that the folks at Gizmodo have a fascinating story, involving a judge from New Mexico and a Spider-Man comic published in 1977...
News about the use of electronic tracking bracelets and anklets is abundant on the Web, and all point (more or less) in the same direction: the application of house arrest as a solution for minor offenses, bail releases, or the inevitable waiting processes before trial. What not everyone knows is that it's an impressive source of income: Depending on the region and local laws, "users" must pay hundreds, even thousands of dollars per month to stay home with the "privilege" of a GPS on their ankle.
Electronic monitoring of prisoners, courtesy of Peter Parker
Who initiated this? The folks at Gizmodo decided to dig deeper into the adoption of electronic monitoring in the United States, and their story begins with a Spider-Man comic published between August and September 1977. In that comic, Kingpin places an electronic bracelet on Spider-Man, a "radar device" that allows the villain to know his location at all times. But the most surprising part is that a judge, Jack Love from Bernalillo County in New Mexico, said he was inspired by the superhero for its real-world application.
Judge Love got in touch with an engineer from Colorado, Michael Goss, who named the device Goss-Link. It worked over a telephone line: The transmitter, about the size of a cigarette pack, sent a signal to the receiver every 60 seconds. If the user moved more than 150 feet (45.72 meters) away, the receiver automatically called a central computer to report the situation. Judge Love believed the Goss-Link was ideal for people accused of driving under the influence of alcohol, who had to stay home, away from any establishment.
Love assigned the device to at least three defendants: one for writing bad checks, another for violating his probation by receiving stolen property, and the third for drunk driving. In the end, the New Mexico Supreme Court stopped the program for a single reason: money. Judge Love had signed a contract with Goss for the devices without consulting his colleagues on the Second Judicial District. The other judges determined the contract violated the Public Procurement Act, and the Supreme Court backed that conclusion.
In any case, the genie was already out of the bottle. At least a dozen companies appeared between 1983 and 1988 offering similar electronic solutions and pressing on the problem of prison overcrowding. But Goss didn't just start the commercialization of this technology; he also came up with the idea of shifting the cost of using it onto the prisoners. What does that mean exactly today? That we're facing a market that exceeds $800 million a year, only in the United States.
Source: Gizmodo
