Law360 Canada (August 12, 2026, 9:01 AM EDT) --
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| Michael Crowley |
Parole. Not a weightless word, is it?
As I read news stories, there often seems to be one that involves parole, usually in a negative way. These are often associated with someone being granted parole and victims are upset, or someone reoffending while they appear to have been on parole.
I have the feeling many people think parole boards are made up of people who know little about crime or its impact in communities, or members who do a cursory review of file information about offenders and make decisions without thinking of the consequences of those decisions. Or they believe that parole hearings are quick, superficial events that barely skim the surface of an offender’s history and only look at how long they have been incarcerated and then decide to give that person a “break.”
From my experience, none of that is true.
Before I was first appointed in 1996 to what was then called the National Parole Board, I had spent virtually all of my adult life working in corrections or with people who had run afoul of the law.
My first job was as a welfare caseworker in Toronto. I had not studied social work in university, nor had I ever considered being in a helping profession. But I had immigrated to Canada from the United States in 1968, and after a year or so of part-time, unfulfilling employment, I stumbled into the only job that fit my apparent skills. I genuinely enjoyed the job and learned how to ask probing questions of people who were sometimes reluctant to be entirely truthful about their circumstances. I was happy to help people who were eligible for welfare, but I had to be sure that they met the criteria — hence the probing questions.
After a few years I sort of lucked into a job as a probation/parole officer, working for the Ontario Ministry of Correctional Services, in Newmarket, Ont., a town I had never been to until I was the successful applicant in a competition. I knew virtually nothing about probation or parole but grew more fascinated by the subject as I grew more confident.
Those initial years of working in the community with a caseload of about 120 clients continued to pique my interest in the field of corrections or criminal justice and gave me a thirst for knowledge — primarily so that I could learn how to do a better job of helping people change their lives.
I really didn’t have any goals in mind regarding my career; I was content with just trying to figure out why people committed the crimes they did, and then to find the keys to helping them not reoffend.
Eventually, and without any real planning on my part, I was promoted to the head office of the ministry, in a variety of positions, starting as being the executive assistant to the director of probation and parole, to being responsible to the ministry’s halfway houses and developing its policy for the creation of open custody residences.
All of these positions allowed me the opportunity to meet a variety of people in the corrections field, both in Canada and internationally. In turn, this gave me the chance to acquire more knowledge about what made individuals commit crimes, and what kinds of things could help predict that behaviour, as well as what assisted in helping those individuals desist future anti-social behaviour.
I then left government to work for a non-profit organization that provided treatment for young offenders with drug and alcohol problems. In part, my job was to interview young offenders who had been adjudicated and in need of treatment. I learned a great deal during those six years about drug and alcohol abuse, and the choices that people made at critical times in their lives.
I believed people could change and saw the evidence for that on an almost daily basis.
In turn, all of these experiences led to my belief in parole and being appointed to the parole board of Ontario as a regional vice-chair in 1993 and then to the Parole Board of Canada in 1996 as a part-time member. This meant I worked, conducting hearings and writing decisions, one or two weeks per month, while also running my own consulting company, primarily training staff in halfway houses in the United States to conduct risk assessments. In 1998, I became a full-time member and spent a total of 21 years as a board member before retiring.
In spite of my many years in corrections, interviewing and working with offenders and doing my best to understand why people commit crimes, I don’t think I was fully prepared for the enormity of the job I was undertaking as a board member in the federal system of Canada.
I think the seriousness of the job — or the decisions we were making — hit home for the first time when I participated in my first day of hearings. To that point, as a newly appointed member I had gone through training, discussions and observations of hearings. But on this day, I was one of two members who would be conducting hearings. One case stood out: that of a man serving a life sentence for murder. He had been granted parole and had been in the community but then was suspended for violating a condition. My brain was telling me that he had his chance and blew it. As a lifer he should have known better. No second chances. But the more experienced member led the hearing. I doubt I asked any questions and focused on whether that violation led to the conclusion that his risk had become undue. In the end we decided it did not and cancelled the suspension. But the notion that I was re-releasing a man who had committed murder was very sobering.
This is the first instalment of a two-part series.
Michael Crowley has a BA from Syracuse University. He spent more than 40 years in various positions within the criminal justice system in Canada. Before retiring, Crowley was a member of the Parole Board of Canada for 21 years. Contact him at CrowleyMichael167@gmail.com.
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