A Valley Viewpoint Narrative
There’s an old saying in government: what gets measured gets managed.
In Albany, it seems we’ve taken that one step further—what gets redefined gets erased.
Buried in a year-end memo that didn’t exactly come with a press conference or ribbon-cutting, the administration of Governor Kathy Hochul quietly changed how violence inside New York prisons is counted. Not reduced. Not prevented. Reclassified.
According to reporting by the New York Post, the Department of Corrections and Community Supervision—New York State Department of Corrections and Community Supervision—issued guidance narrowing the definition of “assault” against correction officers. Under the new framework, behavior that once triggered an assault report—grabbing an officer, pulling them into a cell, throwing objects—may now be logged as “harassment” or “disruptive behavior,” unless intent to injure can be clearly proven.
In other words:
Same act.
Same officer.
Same risk.
Different spreadsheet.
And that distinction matters—because in government, statistics are not neutral. They become talking points. They become press releases. They become proof that things are “getting better,” even when the people living and working inside those walls know otherwise.
Correction officers aren’t debating philosophy in a seminar room. They’re breaking up fights, escorting inmates, walking tiers understaffed, and going home with injuries that don’t care what category they fall into. A hand around your arm doesn’t feel less dangerous because someone in Albany decided it lacks “intent.”
Supporters of the change argue this is about clarity and consistency. That it creates more precise reporting. That it was developed collaboratively. Maybe so. But precision without honesty is just polish. And collaboration doesn’t mean much if the people on the floor feel less safe, less heard, and more exposed.
This all comes after years of strain inside New York’s prison system—staff shortages, policy shifts, morale issues, and the quiet truth no memo can fix: violence doesn’t disappear when you relabel it.
Here’s the Valley Viewpoint:
If assaults are down because fewer assaults are happening, that’s progress.
If assaults are down because the definition shrank, that’s accounting.
And when public safety—inside prisons or outside them—becomes a numbers game, trust is the first casualty.
You can change the language.
You can change the forms.
You can even change the headlines.
But the bruises still show up the next morning.