On the issue of homelessness almost everyone is ambivalent. I, for one, have never given a single cent to a panhandler. And, sometimes I kinda feel bad about it.

You might not share my strongly-held belief that offering money to beggars is enabling behavior, but most people do vacillate in their responses to the poverty in our midst. Perhaps you sometimes give change and occasionally purchase a Spare Change newspaper because it seems more legitimate. Invariably, though, you turn on the blinders, face forward, and ignore the squalor of the busy city, vaguely mouthing lies like, “I’m all out of change, sorry.”

Homelessness has reached a kind of equilibrium, both in Harvard Square and our society in general. We are occasionally guilted into a handout or a food pantry shift, but nothing changes—worse or better—and ignorance is always an easy choice. But after three years of wading through urine in the streets and seeing people sleep outside in freezing temperatures, I’m sick of it.

At the risk of surprising a lot of people who are familiar with my libertarian-ish, somewhat conservative views, it is time for a massive increase in local, state, and maybe even federal aid to combat this serious problem. Before this column turns into a Howard Dean campaign shriek, however, I should note that my homelessness recipe comes with a healthy portion of tough love and a massive side of realism.

First, the numbers. Around 800,000 people are homeless on any given night, according to the Christian Science Monitor. Of these, about 32 percent report both mental illness and substance abuse problems, while an additional 31 percent report one of these difficulties. This troubled 63 percent makes up the core of the chronic homeless seen on the streets begging for money.

Dealing with this startling and, frankly, embarrassing statistic for the world’s richest nation will require confronting the fundamental problem with homeless policy: we all want to help these people with illness and addiction, but we are loath to impose on those who won’t help themselves and deprive them of freedom.

The only way out of this quandary is to finally acknowledge that most of the troubled homeless are not truly free in any meaningful sense of the word. They are slaves to drugs, alcohol, and illnesses that they cannot control. Allowing them to remain on the streets is not giving them liberty but withholding it from them. We can afford to offer it back.

A massive mandatory rehabilitation program is the only way to make a dent in the oft-ignored homeless crisis. Anyone who’s seen the colorful cast of characters in the Square knows that most won’t seek out assistance on their own. We must provide it for them.

The logistics of doing this might at first appear maddeningly difficult. But a simple scheme could be established to identify the chronic homeless. Then, under a judge’s supervision, mental health professionals would determine which individuals were incapable of making their own treatment decisions. Those who met this standard would have to undergo rehab.

Thousands of our most desperate and helpless citizens would finally find housing, food, treatment, and the true compassion lacking in their lives up to this point. Mandatory rehabilitation programs have shown remarkable success when prescribed by the legal system, so there is reason to believe that many homeless might actually go on to lead productive, normal lives under proper care.

We also have to face the reality that many of our most desperately ill citizens have no chance of entering normal society again. But allowing them to “choose” to wither away on the streets seems more like a cruel Darwinian ploy than a valid social policy for dealing with those who have no hope.

Prior to the massive deinstitutionalization undertaken in the 1980s, the U.S. government acknowledged that it was our responsibility to ensure that mentally ill people received minimal assistance. But despite the surge in homelessness that followed the shift away from government oversight, nothing we’ve done since has helped to stem the tide.

Would forced rehabilitation completely solve vagrancy? Sadly, no. Would it attract a swarm of lawyers? Sadly, yes.

But those of us who truly believe it is our duty to help fellow citizens in need must be willing to try new approaches. Next time you give 50 cents to the man on the corner, think about where it will to be spent. Also think about the 30 others you passed, and what you would want done if they were in your family.

I support the tough love approach. Don’t tell me you support the status quo.



John W. Hastrup ’06 is a government concentrator in Dunster House. His column appears on alternate Tuesdays.