A five-month-old Alameda County Superior Court program has cut rearrest rates for moderate-risk defendants from 43 percent to 18 percent — but its state funding expires in December, and the Board of Supervisors has not committed to keeping it alive.

The Pretrial Expansion Program, launched in February 2026 and run jointly by the Superior Court, the Alameda County Probation Department, and Berkeley nonprofit BOSS, offers housing, substance use treatment, and benefits navigation to people awaiting trial. The results are striking and the funding is fragile — a combination that puts the Board of Supervisors on the clock.

At any given time, more than 3,000 people released from custody in Alameda County are awaiting trial. Many lack the stable housing, transportation, employment, or substance use treatment needed to meet court-ordered conditions — conditions they must meet or face reincarceration before a verdict is ever reached.

The Pretrial Expansion Program, launched in February, is built on a straightforward theory: fix the conditions, reduce the recidivism. According to court data compiled by spokesperson Paul Rosynsky, it appears to be working. From 2024 to 2025, 43 percent of moderate-risk defendants released from Santa Rita Jail were rearrested. Since the program launched, that figure has dropped to 18 percent.

Of the 503 people served so far, 191 were enrolled in substance use treatment, 186 received housing assistance, and 204 were connected to public benefits including CalFresh and transportation support, according to The Oaklandside, which first reported the court's data.

"When you release someone back into the same circumstances that led to their arrest, it's often not realistic to expect a different outcome," said program manager Cory Jacobs in a news release. "People's lives are changing, making the community safer in the process."

The bail shift raised the stakes

Two California Supreme Court rulings — In re Humphrey and In re Kowalczyk — have made programs like this more urgent. Both require judges to consider a defendant's ability to pay before setting bail, effectively ending cash bail as a default accountability tool for low-income defendants.

"In many cases where a court might have imposed bail, they can't do it anymore," Presiding Judge Michael Markman told The Oaklandside. "The question is, if there's no bail, what exists to incentivize someone not to reoffend and to come back to court?"

Markman pointed to concrete examples: case managers ensuring someone attends AA meetings; housing placements that interrupt the cycle of petty theft driven by homelessness. "Pairing up somebody who doesn't have a bed to sleep in with housing, and who's arrested on a petty theft charge, might just stop them from committing another petty theft," he said.

A staffing gap and a budget deadline

The program currently employs eight case managers, two supervisors, and two intake coordinators — a team Rosynsky described as "nowhere near sufficient" for the county's pretrial population. The court wants to expand to 24 case managers, eight reentry coordinators, four housing navigators, four supervisors, and four intake coordinators — a buildout that would cost roughly $8.5 million, according to Rosynsky.

"It's a small but mighty group," Markman said. "They're doing a great job with not a whole lot of people."

The program is funded through Assembly Bill 109, the state law that shifted supervision of lower-level offenders from prisons to counties. Alameda County receives approximately $70 million in AB 109 funding each year, with a portion left to the Board of Supervisors' discretion. The court is asking the Community Corrections Partnership Executive Committee — made up of representatives from the court, district attorney, public defender, probation department, and sheriff's office — to formally recommend the $8.5 million expansion. The Board of Supervisors has final authority over approval.

Current funding expires in December. No vote date has been announced.

"The program appears to be successful based on the early statistics that we have for the past five months," Markman said. "Pulling the plug after less than a year would be a real tragedy."

The pressure is familiar. San Francisco has been locked in its own fight over pretrial services, dismantling a 50-year-old Pretrial Diversion Project earlier this year amid disputed data and a contested replacement. Alameda County, by contrast, has an operational program with measurable outcomes — and a budget clock ticking down toward the same question: will elected officials protect what's working?