Many of America’s veterans have borne burdens few of us can understand. From the jungles of Vietnam to the mountains of Afghanistan, they’ve faced trauma that doesn’t quickly fade away once they’re handed their discharge papers.
Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), traumatic brain injuries (TBI), substance use disorders (SUD), and moral injury are invisible scars that may push even the most disciplined warriors into the criminal justice system.
As a nation, we owe them more than thanks; we owe them smart policies that honor their service by prioritizing treatment over punishment when appropriate. A new paper from my colleagues at the Texas Public Policy Foundation’s Right on Crime initiative, “Serving Country & Serving Time,” shines a light on this critical issue. Authored by Maggie Horzempa and Army veteran and JAG officer Joey Comley, it argues convincingly for expanding and standardizing Veterans Treatment Courts (VTCs) nationwide.
These specialized courts, modeled after drug and mental health courts, offer court-supervised treatment and services as an alternative to incarceration for veterans whose crimes stem from service-related conditions.
The paper reminds us that veterans aren’t “uniquely exposed to trauma,” but their experiences are amplified by the “frequency” of “exposure,” rigorous military “conditioning,” and “cultural expectations” of unyielding resilience. In service, “dulling emotional responses” is a survival skill. But back home, that same detachment can fuel substance abuse, impulsiveness, and criminal behavior. The statistics are sobering: About one-third of veterans have an arrest history, as opposed to one-fifth of non-veterans. And with 200,000 service members transitioning back into civilian life annually, the need for intervention is urgent.
VTCs work by connecting veterans to Veterans Affairs (VA) benefits, counseling, peer mentors, and rehabilitation programs. The first one launched in Buffalo, New York, in 2008, and today there are more than 600 across the U.S. Participants typically spend a year or more in structured phases, from stabilization to continuing care, with regular drug testing, judicial oversight, and multidisciplinary teams.
Studies show promising results: In one national review of more than 7,900 veterans, only 14 percent faced new incarcerations during the program, far below rates in traditional courts. Housing security improved by 10 percent, and VA benefits access jumped 12 percent.
Yet access is inconsistent. Eligibility varies wildly by state and even county. Some courts exclude veterans with less-than-honorable discharges, ignoring that such classifications often stem from untreated trauma during service. Others bar those charged with violent offenses, even if linked to PTSD.
Kentucky, for instance, limits participation to honorably discharged veterans or those eligible for VA services, potentially shutting out many in need.
North Carolina takes a broader approach, accepting any prior military service short of a dishonorable discharge, and even offers discharge upgrades to unlock benefits.
The authors of TPPF’s new paper call for a Veterans Justice Act (VJA) in every state to standardize operations: clear definitions of “veteran,” early identification at arrest, broader eligibility regardless of discharge type (barring the most severe), and mandatory reporting on outcomes. They also advocate for federal-state partnerships to fund multidisciplinary teams and expand community-based treatments. For incarcerated veterans, “Veterans Pods” — specialized prison units with “veteran-specific programming” — aim to foster camaraderie and healing.
These recommendations resonate with my own experience. As a California assemblyman in 2007, I drafted key portions of an omnibus prison reform bill that added 4,000 drug and alcohol rehab beds to the system. Back then, California’s recidivism rate hovered around 70 percent, with the failure to address addiction among inmates being a significant contributor to that dismal statistic. By focusing on rehabilitation, we aimed to break the cycle of reoffending, saving taxpayer dollars and lives.
It’s a conservative principle: Personal responsibility paired with targeted help yields better results than a revolving door of incarceration.
Veterans need an approach tailored to their experiences in uniform. Military service imposes a unique mental strain — repeated deployments, moral dilemmas in combat, and the jarring shift to civilian norms, where selflessness clashes with individualism. Untreated, these burdens can spiral into family breakdowns, homelessness, and crime. Denying benefits upon incarceration, as current VA rules often do, compounds the damage.
Barriers exist, from funding shortages to data silos between courts and the VA. But solutions are at hand: Grants like those from the Bureau of Justice Assistance have seeded VTCs in states like North Carolina, and legislative tweaks can broaden access. By sharing costs across federal, state, and local levels, and leveraging nonprofits for mentors and housing, proven solutions can be made more widely available.
Supporting our veterans can unite the nation. VTCs are smart on justice, enhancing public safety by rehabilitating those who’ve already sacrificed so much. Let’s standardize and expand them — because those who served us deserve our best in return.
To do so would be to fulfill Abraham Lincoln’s admonition: “To care for him who shall have borne the battle.”
