Louisiana and Maine share some similarities. Religion and the Acadian French language, plus an affection for high-cholesterol foods, are those of first cousins; scratch a Biddeford St. Cyr and a Cajun will bleed. One has a governor who is inarticulate, the other a governor who is insensitive. Because of this cultural relationship, at the coffee shop recently, Professor Lucius Flatley brought up a story from the Times-Picayune of New Orleans about Louisiana prisons. He thought that the Louisiana experience would be of interest to its fre?re Jacques here in Quebec south.

The American rate of incarceration leads the world. The United States has more people in durance vile than in Stalin’s Gulag, nearly triple Iran (where Sharia law rules), seven times China (with a communist government) and 10 times Germany, a traditionally “law and order” society. Whether that is a tasty accomplishment or a disagreeable circumstance is in the eye of the beholder; the good folks in the Pelican state apparently approve because they lead the country in this endeavor. Louisiana is No. 1 in U.S. jail occupancy.

The basic cause of the high rate in Louisiana, as well as in the entire United States, is unrealistic drug laws enhanced by tough sentencing. Victimless crime is indeed effective in filling jails; nearly two-thirds of Louisiana’s prisoners are nonviolent offenders. A couple of doobies at the junior prom – something that more than 50 percent of teenagers experiment with at least once – can award an otherwise decent youth with a criminal record for life.

But Louisiana suffers from something besides foolish drug laws and victimless crime. Some claim that the frogs in the Atchafalaya swamps contain a mood- altering chemical that makes people feel that the best jail is a full jail. Others blame Cajun food. But, for whatever the reason, the fact is that more than half of Louisiana’s inmates are in private prisons (the national average is 5 percent).

Private prisons are uniquely suited for increasing prison population. In order to remain profitable, the beds must remain full; facility costs are constant whether in use or not. Like any sound business practice, capital costs must be amortized. A favorite bed-filling technique is for private operators to “sell” their services to overcrowded jails in the big cities. Because the per-diem cost of a prisoner in local prisons is half that of state prisons, the “savings” are attractive to potential big-prison customers – as well as to budget-strapped legislators.

Prisoners who wind up in these local for-profit jails get fewer rehabilitative services than those in state institutions. “Guests” at state prisons can learn to be welders, plumbers or auto mechanics, while prisoners housed in local prisons leave jail with nothing more than “$10 and a bus ticket.” In five years, about half of the Louisiana’s ex-convicts end up behind bars again. This suits the prison operators just fine. They need them to come back.

A further, somewhat unique curse in the Pelican state experience is prison ownership. It turns out that most of the private jail entrepreneurs are local sheriffs wearing a second hat. Profits for private prisons mean that criminal sentences must remain stiff. No wonder the state Legislature is lobbied by peace officers with the message that drug laws and tough sentencing are the way to go. This has meant that Louisiana has some of the stiffest sentencing guidelines in the country.

Whether in Louisiana or Maine, private prisons do not serve the public interest. Incarceration as a form of job creation is inefficient, cruel – and certainly in conflict with American principles. As the Times-Picayune put it: “A prison system that leased its convicts as plantation labor in the 1800s has come full circle and is again a nexus for profit.”

Cool Hand Luke, you are once more a poster boy.

Thought for the week

Second Amendment statistics: More than 30,000 people are killed by guns each year in the U.S. – 12,000 of them murdered. There are 70,000 more who are wounded. It’s reassuring to find that “guns don’t kill people, people do.”

Rodney Quinn, who died Oct. 27, wrote several columns in advance for publication, which the newspaper will print through the coming weeks.