# Behind Closed Doors: Whatcom County's Justice System Transformation The Criminal Justice and Public Safety Committee of Whatcom County Council convened for an extraordinary session on September 23, 2025, that would lay bare the complex challenges and mounting costs of transforming how the county addresses crime, incarceration, and mental health. What began as a routine committee meeting evolved into a deep examination of fundamental questions about justice, treatment, and the price of reform. ## Meeting Overview Committee Chair Barry Buchanan called the hybrid meeting to order at 10:32 a.m. in the County Courthouse chambers, with members Tyler Byrd and Jon Scanlon present. The agenda promised updates on three interconnected pillars of the county's justice transformation: the new jail and behavioral care center project, healthcare services for inmates, and the philosophical underpinnings of how Whatcom County would treat those caught in the intersection of mental health crisis and the criminal justice system. What emerged over the course of nearly 90 minutes was a portrait of a county grappling with the tension between idealistic visions of reform and the harsh realities of budgets, legal requirements, and political feasibility. The meeting would reveal that even the most well-intentioned efforts to create a more humane justice system are constrained by questions that go to the heart of governance: How much should taxpayers pay? What do voters actually want? And can good intentions survive the complexities of implementation? ## Justice Center Project: Progress Amid Uncertainty Adam Johnson from STV, the county's owner's representative for the Justice Center project, opened with what appeared to be encouraging news about timeline and progress. The design-build contractor team of Clark, Ram Nelson, and RMC is on board, programming and validation work is underway, and community engagement through visioning workshops has begun. "We had a visioning workshop back earlier this month," Johnson reported. "Some members of Council were there, members of the community were there, great visioning workshop with the Design Build Team, hearing input from a lot of different folks." But beneath this surface progress lay a maze of interconnected decisions that would determine not just what gets built, but what kind of justice system Whatcom County will have. Johnson's presentation revealed the project's modular approach – a complex menu of options for everything from general population housing to specialized behavioral health units, from courtrooms to crisis centers. The presentation displayed three distinct scenarios for the behavioral care center, each with different locations (either at LaBounty with the new jail or at Division Street with existing services) and different custody arrangements (in-custody treatment or out-of-custody alternatives). Each option carried different price tags and served different populations. Council member Jon Scanlon raised a crucial question about community input, specifically from the Child and Family Well-Being Task Force, which includes experts who have studied jail design across the country. "We had one member of the task force who's an expert in Child Mental Health, and he's visited jails all across this country, and has seen those that work well for families and kids when they're visiting parents in custody," Scanlon noted. The response revealed a system still finding its footing on community engagement. While town halls are planned for November in Bellingham and Ferndale, the formal mechanisms for expert input remain somewhat ad hoc – a letter to various advisory bodies here, individual meetings with staff there, public comment at task force meetings when possible. Johnson's timeline showed scenario development and selection stretching through early 2026, with final schematic design beginning only after Council approval of a single path forward. The methodical approach reflected hard-won lessons about the perils of rushing complex projects, but also highlighted how long communities must wait for solutions to urgent problems. ## Behavioral Care Center: The Heart of Reform Philosophy If the Justice Center represents the physical infrastructure of reform, the behavioral care center discussion revealed its philosophical soul. Hannah Fisk, Special Projects Manager from Health and Community Services, presented what amounted to a comprehensive vision for how Whatcom County could break the cycle of mental health crisis, criminal behavior, and incarceration. Fisk's presentation began in the booking area of the future jail, where her vision emphasized immediate intervention: "Behavioral health starts at reentry, or sorry, starts at booking. As soon as you enter something like a jail, the institution begins. And so we want to help people get out of any institution, institutionalized setting, as early as possible." This philosophy translated into specific design elements: booking spaces with unlimited phone access, natural light, colors and textures chosen to promote calmness. Housing units designed for direct supervision, where corrections officers work alongside residents rather than observing from remote stations. Space for group treatment, individual counseling, and family visits designed to maintain connections rather than punish them. But the real complexity emerged when Fisk turned to the behavioral care center itself – a facility that could serve as an alternative to incarceration for people whose crimes stemmed from mental health or substance abuse issues. The model, inspired by successful programs in Nashville, represented a fundamental rethinking of how the justice system responds to behavioral health crises. "Our goal is to reduce unnecessary incarceration, help defer wherever possible in our judicial system, improve public safety through treatment," Fisk explained, outlining shared goals that had emerged from months of stakeholder meetings. Yet the devil lived in the details of implementation. Should the center serve people in custody or out of custody? Should it be co-located with the jail or placed separately? Each choice carried profound implications for who could be served, how much it would cost, and whether the community would support it. The in-custody model offered higher completion rates and served people who couldn't be released on bail. But it would be entirely county-funded, as Medicaid doesn't cover services for incarcerated individuals. The out-of-custody model would be largely reimbursable through existing insurance programs and could serve a broader population, but required more complex legal coordination and might face lower initial completion rates. Fisk's analysis revealed the maddening complexity of healthcare financing in the justice system. The proposed 23-hour crisis relief center, designed as a first-stop alternative to emergency rooms for people in mental health crisis, had $11 million in state construction funding but faced a devastating operational reality: only 40% of likely users had Medicaid coverage, leaving an estimated $4-12 million annual funding gap. "When data started coming in, what we found is only about 40% of the population who use these facilities are Medicaid eligible or who have Medicaid, which means about 60% have catastrophic insurance, maybe no insurance at all, or Medicare," Fisk reported, her words landing with the weight of a fundamental challenge to the entire reform vision. ## The Political Reality Check Council member Ben Elenbaas provided the meeting's most pointed reality check, cutting through the technical discussions to address the political dynamics that would ultimately determine the project's fate. "One of the things I always think about is they want to see results, like now, right? 20 years ago, they want to see results," Elenbaas said, referring to community expectations. "And I think part of the reason they didn't approve funding for this along the way is because they didn't feel like they trusted that we were getting the job done for them." Elenbaas pressed for what he called a "hybrid option" that would provide both in-custody and out-of-custody treatment capabilities. "I would think, based off of what's presented in front of you, and I understand that that might be the most costly option... but why we wouldn't be considering a hybrid option, where you do have in custody as well as out of custody treatment is beyond me." His argument reflected a politician's understanding that sometimes the most expensive option becomes the most politically sustainable one if it delivers visible results. "We owe it to them to, you know, give them the best shot we can at seeing results. So was there no hybrid option discussed?" The response revealed the constraints that force compromise even in well-funded reform efforts. While a hybrid model had been considered, the analysis suggested that providing quality in-jail treatment for everyone plus a robust out-of-custody alternative could serve more people than trying to do both formal programs. Council member Tyler Byrd raised equally pointed questions about timeline and uncertainty. When would they know if the 23-hour crisis center was financially viable? When could they decide whether to ask the legislature for more flexibility in using the $11 million already allocated? "You're going to want some decisions from us fairly soon," Byrd observed. "And I guess to make any decisions, what's the status of... the 23 hour thing is pretty frightened, like if Medicaid is only covering 40% of the operating costs. When would we know that that's, is it dead?" The answer revealed the uncomfortable reality that major infrastructure decisions must often be made before all the information is available. The county could get more clarity after the legislative session, but construction timelines required decisions before that clarity would come. ## Community Trust and Consistency Perhaps the most challenging moment came when Elenbaas raised concerns about community trust and consistency with previous promises. "I think, in my opinion, the majority of the public is assuming we're co locating, and is assuming that we're going to have some form of in custody, type of treatment," he said. "And so I would suggest that we think about and review what we were telling people we were going to do in the past and make sure that how we present it moving forward is at least somewhat consistent." His comment, prompted by a message from a community member suggesting officials were "bastardizing what was sold to the public," highlighted the political peril of evolving plans in response to new information. What experts might see as responsible adaptation to changed circumstances, voters might experience as broken promises. The concern resonated because it reflected a broader challenge in democratic governance: how to maintain public support for complex, long-term projects that must adapt to new realities while preserving the essential trust that makes ambitious public investments possible. ## Healthcare Services: A Different Kind of Reform The meeting's final agenda item provided a counterpoint to the uncertainties surrounding behavioral health facilities. Jill Boudreau from the executive's office presented an update on the county's search for a new jail healthcare contractor, representing a different model of reform – one focused on immediate improvement of existing services rather than systemic transformation. The numbers told a stark story. The county faced the loss of its existing nursing services and needed a comprehensive solution. After a competitive process, they had selected Correctional Healthcare Partners, a company that promised 24/7 coverage instead of the current 16-hour service, expanded capacity from 275 to 300 inmates, and removal of booking restrictions that had limited who could be admitted. The cost was significant – a $3.5 million annual increase to the budget. But Boudreau's presentation suggested this might represent savings rather than additional expense when viewed through the lens of legal risk and liability. Dr. Peter Friedland, CEO of Correctional Healthcare Partners, provided compelling evidence for this perspective. In San Diego County, his company's intervention had reduced jail mortality rates by over 70%, from 23-24 deaths annually to nine, primarily by addressing withdrawal and providing immediate medical attention at booking. "Our model first care puts a provider essentially at the front door," Dr. Friedland explained. "What that prevents is your classic model of someone who's coming in to be incarcerated and then becomes housed without seeing a healthcare practitioner. Typically, that's where your first subset of liabilities will start to form." Council member Elenbaas, again focused on long-term viability, asked whether the increased service level might actually save money by reducing legal settlements and litigation costs. Boudreau's affirmative response suggested that in this case, at least, doing the right thing might also be the fiscally responsible thing. ## The Weight of Decision As the meeting drew to a close, the full weight of the decisions facing Whatcom County became clear. The justice transformation project represents far more than infrastructure development – it embodies fundamental choices about the kind of community Whatcom County wants to be. The technical complexity is daunting enough: coordinating construction timelines, navigating federal and state funding streams, designing facilities that serve multiple populations with different needs. But the political and philosophical challenges may be even greater. How much should taxpayers pay for reform that may take years to show results? How can officials balance expert recommendations with community expectations? How do you maintain public support for complex projects that must evolve as new information becomes available? Sheriff's Office Chief Caleb Erickson provided perhaps the most grounded perspective, emphasizing that regardless of these larger decisions, the new jail would be designed from the ground up to support behavioral health treatment. "We are very, very interested in having supportive behavioral health services in the facility for everybody who is eligible to receive those services," he assured the committee. But even that commitment raised questions about what "eligible" means and who makes those determinations – questions that go to the heart of how a community balances public safety, individual rights, and collective responsibility. ## What's Ahead The meeting ended without decisions, which was by design. Executive Office representative Kayla Schott-Bresler emphasized that the goal was to provide comprehensive information and allow time for deliberation. Over the next month or two, the various advisory bodies will weigh the options, consultants will develop more detailed cost estimates, and county staff will work with legislators on potential changes to funding flexibility. But the clock is ticking. The design-build process requires decisions about behavioral health facilities by early 2026. The healthcare contract needs approval by October 7 to ensure continuity of services. And somewhere in the background, the community waits for solutions to problems that affect them daily. The September 23 committee meeting revealed both the promise and the peril of ambitious reform efforts. The vision of a justice system that treats mental health and addiction as health issues rather than criminal justice problems remains compelling. The commitment to humane conditions and effective treatment appears genuine. Whether that vision can survive the collision with budget realities, political pressures, and implementation complexities remains to be seen. The next few months will test not just Whatcom County's commitment to justice reform, but its capacity to navigate the treacherous waters between aspiration and achievement in democratic governance. The meeting adjourned at noon, but the real work – the quiet deliberations, difficult conversations, and ultimately decisive votes that will shape Whatcom County's justice system for decades to come – was just beginning.