Why Jail Can Feel Easier Than Treatment
Ask most people in the system why someone keeps coming back to court and you’ll hear the same answer: bad choices. From that mindset, the “solution” is simple. Be tougher. Make the consequences harsher. Scare them straight.
On Counselor Beyond Conventional Defense, host Kevin Rosenquist speaks with criminal defence attorney William Pernik and his former client Adena about why that view is dangerously shallow.
For many defendants, especially those battling trauma and addiction, jail actually feels easier than treatment. That single fact turns a lot of conventional criminal justice logic on its head.
This second conversation with Adena digs into what really drives recidivism, why traditional defence work is not enough, and how a client centred, trauma informed approach can actually change lives, not just case numbers.
Asking “Why?” Instead Of “What Did You Do?”
Pernik’s starting point is deceptively simple: he refuses to stop at the police report.
He points out that research and experience show 50 to 75 per cent of people in the criminal courts have a mental health condition, a substance use disorder, or both. Yet the system still behaves as if crime is usually just the result of bad choices.
That belief is not just wrong. It is dangerous. When judges and prosecutors assume crime is purely volitional, the default response is harsher punishment, not deeper investigation.
By contrast, his firm treats every case as a chance to ask:
- Why is this person here, really?
- What has happened in their life that led to this arrest?
- What is broken that could be repaired?
In practice, that means looking for trauma, mental illness, coercive relationships, and patterns that have never been named, let alone treated.
How Expert Collaboration Changes Outcomes
Once the underlying issues are identified, the next step is to bring in the right experts. That might be:
- A forensic psychologist to do a full trauma and mental health evaluation
- A substance abuse counsellor or psychiatrist
- A couples counsellor in a domestic violence case
- A parenting specialist in child endangerment cases
Pernik describes a recent client who was caught smuggling a large quantity of drugs into a state prison. On paper it looked hopeless. She was clearly guilty and facing almost three years in prison.
Instead of negotiating the “least bad” prison term, he asked why she had done it.
A forensic evaluation revealed:
- Severe, long-term abuse in childhood
- Manipulation by a partner already in prison
- Deeply entrenched trauma driving her behaviour
With that information, he connected her to appropriate treatment. By sentencing, she was sober, employed, doing well in therapy and fully engaged in changing her life.
The result: probation instead of prison. Same facts, same offence, completely different outcome because someone bothered to ask why.
Adena’s Reality: Treatment Is Harder Than Jail
From the outside, many people see requests for treatment as a “soft option” or a way to dodge responsibility. Adena’s experience blows that myth apart.
She is brutally honest:
- Jail was easier than treatment.
- Jail allowed access to drugs some of the time.
- Jail did not require self-reflection or emotional pain.
In her words, sitting in a cell high on meth or fentanyl was often less terrifying than being sober in a treatment centre with nothing, no possessions, no job, no home, and a mountain of shame.
She had been to nearly 30 programmes. The groups all sounded the same. Staff came and went. Residents relapsed and disappeared. It felt pointless and hopeless.
From that headspace, it is not surprising that many people choose jail over treatment when a judge offers the option. Treatment demands:
- Abstinence, with no chemical escape
- Facing the full weight of past choices
- Tolerating shame, grief and fear without using
- Rebuilding life from literally nothing
Jail, by comparison, can feel like an anaesthetised holding pattern. Horrible, but familiar.
“Nothing Works Until They Are Ready” – And Why That Is Only Half True
Adena makes another crucial point: you cannot talk someone into recovery before they are ready. No ultimatum, no lecture and no perfectly structured programme will stick until something inside them shifts.
She describes reaching “the gift of desperation” only after years of overdoses, homelessness, failed rehabs and repeated arrests. At that point she was emotionally destroyed and finally willing to consider that maybe she did not know what was best for her.
Pernik agrees that internal readiness is essential, but he refuses to treat it as pure luck. His job, as he sees it, is to:
- Keep offering treatment options, even after many “no”s
- Build trust by actually listening, not judging
- Connect on shared human ground, not just legal facts
- Frame treatment as a genuine opportunity, not just another hoop
He openly admits that he often feels like he’s speaking out of both sides of his mouth. In court he fights to get clients into programmes. Privately, he spends hours talking them into not giving up, asking them to “give me two more weeks” or “try one more placement.”
Sometimes it still does not work. But when that inner switch does finally flip, all the groundwork is there: the evaluation, the treatment slot, the diversion motion. If he had given up after the tenth refusal, Adena’s story would likely have ended very differently.
Life After Treatment: Shame, Work And Reclaiming The Story
Getting clean is not the end of the story. In many ways it is the beginning of the hardest part.
Adena describes:
- The terror of holding a normal job after years on the street
- The pain of reconnecting with family she had ghosted or stolen from
- The grief of realising how much life she had missed
She started small: part-time work, basic responsibilities, one foot in front of the other. Over time, she went back to school, qualified in a field she cares about and became house manager in her sober living home. She is now preparing to move into her own place for the first time.
On the legal side, mental health diversion meant her case was dismissed and her arrest record sealed. Instead of a permanent felony barrier, she now has a clean slate and a professional licence.
Pernik’s advice to clients who complete this journey is blunt:
- Do not hide from your past.
- Do not lie on applications.
- Turn your lowest point into proof of resilience.
In his view, people who have faced and overcome addiction and trauma have a powerful “underdog” story that many employers and communities will respect, if it is framed honestly and confidently.
Can This Approach Really Reduce Reoffending?
No one on the podcast sugar coats the scale of the problem. Adena points out that in every jail she has been in, nearly every woman had a drug problem, and most crimes were committed to fund addiction.
Add to that:
- Untreated mental illness and trauma
- Barriers to housing and employment on release
- A system that allocates only a tiny slice of its resources to treatment courts
Changing that reality is a tall order.
Still, both guest and lawyer agree on two core truths:
- Most “drug offenders” are co-occurring cases.
If you do not treat the trauma and mental health piece, you are tinkering at the edges. - Client centred, trauma informed defence gives people a real chance.
It will not save everyone, but it dramatically increases the odds for those who are ready to try.
For people like Adena, the difference between another stint in county jail and a life of sobriety, meaningful work and service to others came down to three things:
- Someone finally asking “why” instead of just “what did you do”
- Access to proper diagnosis and long term treatment
- A lawyer stubborn enough not to give up when she wanted to
If you or a loved one is facing criminal charges tied to addiction or mental health, and you want help that goes beyond the usual “plead and punish,” consider working with a defence team that will actually ask why and fight for a treatment-centred solution.
The cycle does not have to repeat forever. With the right support, it really is possible to write a different ending.

