Former President Donald Trump, now in his second term, has issued a string of high-profile pardons—ranging from January 6th defendants to Silk Road founder Ross Ulbricht, and reality TV stars Todd and Julie Chrisley. In doing so, he has railed against what he calls a rigged and politicized justice system. As the Chrisleys’ daughter Savannah put it, “this wasn’t a get-out-of-jail-free card — this was a get-out-of-a-rigged-system card.”

When Savannah Chrisley described her parents’ pardon as a “get-out-of-a-rigged-system card,” she echoed a sentiment that extends far beyond her family’s bank fraud case. The American criminal justice system isn’t just flawed in its outcomes—it’s financially structured to perpetuate those flaws. The mass incarceration and probation models are not simply about public safety; they operate as revenue-generating mechanisms that rely on the continual processing and punishment of low-income individuals. From the billions spent annually on incarceration to the probation fees that fund court systems on the backs of the poor, this system profits from punishment. It’s “rigged” in the most literal sense—designed to extract money from the most vulnerable, while sustaining a cycle of incarceration that benefits governments and private entities financially. Just as the Chrisleys’ case exposed the uneven application of justice, the broader economic architecture of criminal justice exposes how deeply embedded financial incentives are in denying true reform.

America’s War on Drugs has lasted more than half a century, creating much of the mass incarceration epidemic, broken communities, and staggering economic waste. At the center of this systemic failure lies the criminalization of nonviolent drug offenses—acts that, in many cases, caused no direct harm to others yet triggered devastating consequences for millions. With the rise of the federal government’s DOGE (Department of Government Efficiency) campaign to eliminate bureaucratic waste, and a renewed push for criminal justice reform, now is the moment to tackle one of the biggest and most expensive policy failures in U.S. history. It’s time to DOGE mass incarceration—and mass pardons for nonviolent drug offenses are the logical first step.

From just 200,000 incarcerated individuals in 1970 to over 2 million today, the U.S. has become the world’s leading jailer. Much of this growth stems from a series of punitive laws introduced during the height of the War on Drugs. Beginning with the Controlled Substances Act of 1970, the government ramped up its authority over drug enforcement. The Anti-Drug Abuse Acts of 1986 and 1988 imposed harsh mandatory minimum sentences and created stark disparities—such as the infamous 100:1 sentencing ratio between crack and powder cocaine—that disproportionately targeted Black communities. These policies stripped judges of discretion and sent countless nonviolent drug offenders to prison for decades.

Despite reform efforts—like the Fair Sentencing Act of 2010 and the First Step Act of 2018—the damage remains entrenched. More than 1 in 5 incarcerated people today are serving time for drug-related offenses, many for acts that have since been decriminalized or legalized, such as marijuana possession.

The contradiction is glaring. In Virginia, hundreds remain behind bars for marijuana-related offenses, even as the state profits from legal cannabis sales. In Connecticut, marijuana was legalized in 2021, yet prosecutions for cannabis offenses persist. Across the U.S., over 200,000 cannabis-related arrests occurred in 2023 alone. The ongoing criminalization of marijuana continues to entrap Americans, even while businesses and governments reap the rewards of legalization.

The United States spends over $80 billion annually on incarceration, with drug offenses accounting for a significant portion. Federal data shows that about 45% of inmates in federal prisons are serving sentences for drug-related crimes, most of them nonviolent. State prison data mirrors this trend. With the annual cost of incarceration ranging from $30,000 to $60,000 per person, pardoning just 100,000 nonviolent drug offenders could save $3 to $6 billion each year—a conservative estimate.

But the financial toll goes far beyond prison walls. A Harvard study estimates that the aggregate burden of mass incarceration costs the U.S. economy nearly $1 trillion annually, when accounting for lost productivity, reduced lifetime earnings, diminished economic output, and public assistance needed to support families of incarcerated individuals.

Even after release, those with drug convictions face steep barriers to reentry: limited job prospects, housing discrimination, and disqualification from federal aid. These collateral consequences deepen poverty and perpetuate cycles of dependency and incarceration. Many end up on probation or parole, systems which themselves generate enormous revenues—often at the expense of the very people they’re supposed to supervise.

In Florida, for example, the Department of Corrections collected $53 million in probation-related fees in 2022–2023. This system of “user-funded justice” disproportionately burdens the poor, particularly people of color. Around two-thirds of those on probation earn under $20,000 a year, with 40% earning less than $10,000.

These fees are not merely inconvenient—they are gateways to re-incarceration. In many states, up to 40% of probation terms end in revocation, often due to technical violations like missed appointments or unpaid fees. Instead of serving as a rehabilitative alternative, probation often functions as a trapdoor back into prison. 45% of prison admissions nationwide are the result of violations of probation or parole.

Supervision systems have grown excessively large, overburdened, and increasingly punitive. As of 2022, an estimated 3,668,800 adults were under some form of community supervision, according to the Bureau of Justice Statistics. This staggering number highlights how probation, often framed as a lenient alternative to incarceration, actually serves to widen the reach of the criminal justice system

The appointment of Alice Marie Johnson—once sentenced to life for a nonviolent drug offense and now a leading advocate for reform—as the nation’s new “pardon czar” is a hopeful sign. Johnson’s own story, commuted by Trump in 2018 and pardoned in 2020 after 22 years behind bars, illustrates both the cruelty of drug sentencing and the power of clemency.

But clemency must be more than symbolic. We need mass pardons, not just for a chosen few with celebrity advocates, but for the hundreds of thousands still living with the consequences of outdated, unjust drug laws.

This is not only a matter of justice—it’s also an issue of economic responsibility, racial equity, and national conscience, all of which are deeply connected to the broader populist movement. Under the banner of the federal DOGE initiative to root out government inefficiency, mass incarceration for nonviolent drug offenses is a glaring target. It costs too much, achieves too little, and devastates too many lives.

America’s criminal justice system has become a bloated machine that extracts wealth from the poor, imprisons the vulnerable, and drains public resources in the name of punishment. It’s a system designed more for perpetuation than for rehabilitation.

It’s time to change course. We must ‘DOGE’ mass incarceration—Defund the waste, Overhaul the laws, Grant mass pardons, and End the cycle. With public sentiment shifting, bipartisan support growing, and economic pressures mounting, the time to act is now.

The post It’s Time to ‘DOGE’ Mass Incarceration appeared first on Stephen K Bannon’s War Room.