Amid the influx, the county converted the public defender to a full-time staff position for the first time in recent history. Over the past four years, the office has grown to include an additional part-time attorney and two administrative support staff, county officials said.
Cases handled by the office became more complex, said Knaresboro, whose office often pushes in court for people to enter treatment rather than prison. Where other public defense offices around the state employ social workers, Elk County does not. “We do the work ourselves,” he said.
“A lot of it involves follow-up with people, and see what they’re doing, see if they’re getting counseling, see if they’re getting housing for themselves,” Knaresboro said. “Just so they’re on better footing when I try to negotiate something for them, and try to keep them out of jail.”
When the opioid settlement funds became available, Elk County hoped to use its allotment to support a part-time public defender in the office.
In Pennsylvania, counties agreed to spend their opioid settlement money in a way that’s consistent with a settlement document known as Exhibit E. If they don’t, the opioid trust can withhold and ultimately cut funding from them in the future.
Exhibit E, a 15-page document, does not specifically mention prosecutors or public defenders. But it does leave room for funding various types of strategies and programs that help people dealing with opioid addiction.
Rather than go ahead with the plan in Elk County and risk penalty down the line, Elk County Commissioner Matthew Quesenberry looked to the trust for guidance. But he was told that an assistant public defender would not be considered a proper use of the money, a response that has frustrated him and other local officials who see public defense as a bulwark against other more costly interventions.
“We want to see them be put into treatment, and their first contact for somebody to be able to guide them into that direction is probably their attorney,” Quesenberry said.
The trust’s guidance didn’t cite any parts of the order creating the trust, state law, or settlement documents to justify its rejection of Elk County’s idea. Its response noted that settlement documents do include “programs and services for treatment within the criminal justice system.”
The reasoning the trust gave, that the services of a public defender are already required to be provided, would also apply to a number of other state-mandated services, including prosecution.
Public defenders who spoke to Spotlight PA echoed Quesenberry’s reasoning.
The attorneys and the support staff in their offices, such as social workers and case investigators, are often the main problem solvers for someone dealing with the legal consequences of their addiction, said Julia Burke, first assistant public defender in Blair County.
Because the rest of the criminal justice system is designed to identify and punish offenders, she said, “it is not well-suited to addressing the reason the person offended in the first place.”
“If we could punish the trauma out of someone, this would be a perfect plan, but often it just compounds the issues,” she said. “A well resourced public defender’s office can do much more to try to assist the person in getting the help that they need and ideally addressing all the myriad of collateral issues that impact the person’s stability and sobriety.”
Only 15 county public defender offices in the state have a client advocate or social worker, said Jacobson of the Public Defender Association of Pennsylvania. While the trust’s guidance specifically addressed only an assistant public defender position, she told Spotlight PA it created uncertainty over whether the money could be used on other positions within the office.
“It’s starting from a place of them saying no, right?” Jacobson said. “It’s not starting from a place of possibility. … It creates another step and another hurdle.”
In response to questions from Spotlight PA, the trust declined to expand on the reasoning behind its guidance.
Some experts who have been following opioid settlements questioned whether funding for an assistant public defender, or any position that serves a general purpose, would be appropriate, given that some of their responsibilities might be unrelated to drug issues.
When tobacco companies reached settlements with states in the late 1990s, some of those dollars went to general community needs, such as road infrastructure, and “not specific things to help the population most affected,” said Bradley Stein, a psychiatrist and opioid policy expert with the RAND Corporation.
In the case of a public defender or a prosecutor, the details of the spending matter more than which offices the money flows through, Stein said.
“It does sort of strike me that this is more meeting a community’s potential needs to better fund their public defender’s office, rather than things that might specifically help individuals who have opioid use disorder,” he said.
In some states, public defender offices have been able to apply for these funds.
The Virginia Indigent Defense Commission, a state agency that oversees 28 public defender offices in Virginia, has been awarded nearly $225,000 for a pilot program that places peer navigators in the county public defenders’ offices hit hardest by the opioid crisis, said deputy executive director Timothy Coyne. That money will support the peer navigators and an oversight position within the commission, he said.
In Texas, Chief Public Defender Lynn Pride Richardson is part of a group of other criminal justice offices within Dallas County that hope to create a docket dedicated to opioid-related cases. If their plan is approved, it will be staffed by dedicated public defenders and prosecutors and funded by settlement dollars.
The bulk of the settlement money Dallas County has received will go toward addiction treatment and education in the community, Richardson said, but “nothing I have read or seen anywhere prohibits public defense from receiving those dollars.”
Within the justice system, she said, “probably we are the ones that need it the most.”