The word "compassionate" is the cruelest part of the federal prison system. You would think that a mechanism called "compassionate release" would actually show compassion. You would think that terminal illness would mean something. You would think that a dying person would be allowed to go home. You would be wrong. The numbers tell the real story: 84% of all compassionate release motions are denied. The system has a beautiful name and an ugly reality.
Welcome to Spodek Law Group. We put this information on our website because families deserve to know the truth before they spend months preparing motions that were designed to fail. Our goal is not to scare you. Our goal is to make sure you understand exactly what you are facing so you can make decisions based on reality, not hope.
The First Step Act of 2018 was supposed to change everything. Before the Act, inmates could not even file their own compassionate release motions - only the Bureau of Prisons could do that. And the BOP granted exactly 6% of the requests they received between 2013 and 2017. Six percent. The First Step Act fixed that problem by letting inmates file directly with the court. The result? The denial rate dropped from 94% to 84%. Progress, technically. But still 84% denied. The gatekeepers changed but the gates stayed closed.
The 3553(a) Trap: Why Terminal Cancer Gets Denied
Heres the thing that nobody explains until its to late. You can have Stage 4 cancer. You can have eighteen months to live. You can have documentation from three differant doctors. And you can still be denied compassionate release. The reason is something called the 3553(a) factors.
When Congress created 18 U.S.C. 3582(c)(1)(A), they included a requirement that judges must consider "the factors set forth in section 3553(a)" before granting any sentence reduction. Those factors include things like the nature and circumstances of the offense, the history and characteristics of the defendant, the need for the sentence to reflect the seriousness of the offense, and the need to protect the public. These are the same factors judges use at the original sentencing.
So what happens in practice? Heres what it looks like in a real courtroom. A prosecutor stands up and says, "Your Honor, while the defendant may have terminal cancer, the nature and circumstances of his offense - wire fraud that victimized elderly people - remain unchanged. The need for the sentence to reflect the seriousness of the offense has not diminished simply because the defendant is now ill. The government opposes this motion."
And the judge denies it. Not because the medical evidence isn't compelling. Not becuase the inmate dosent qualify under the "extraordinary and compelling reasons" standard. But because the 3553(a) factors - the same factors used to justify the original sentence - can be used to justify keeping someone locked up until they die.
According to U.S. Sentencing Commission data for fiscal year 2024, the 3553(a) factors were the most common basis for denial, cited in 24.7% of all denied motions. One quarter of all denials. Dying people being told that there crime is still to serious. That is the reality of "compassionate" release.
The other common denial reasons paint an equally grim picture. Look at the numbers. 9.7% of denials occurred because the court found no extraordinary and compelling reason existed at all. 9.2% relied too heavily on rehabilitation without establishing other grounds. 8.6% involved COVID-related health concerns that the court didnt find sufficiently supported. The system has created a maze of requirements were meeting one dosent guarantee you meet the others.
Practitioners who handle these cases regularly know the pattern. A client comes in with a terminal diagnosis. The medical records are clear. The prognosis is grim. Everyone assumes this is an easy case. Its not. The government will still oppose. The prosecutor will still stand up and recite the 3553(a) factors. The judge will still have discretion to say no. And 84% of the time, that's exactly what happens.
The Geographic Lottery: 7% to 35% Based on ZIP Code
This is where it gets even more absurd. Your chances of winning compassionate release depend almost entirely on where you were sentenced. Not on your medical condition. Not on your rehabilitation. Not on your family circumstances. On geography.
In fiscal year 2024, the Second Circuit granted 34.9% of compassionate release motions. The Eighth Circuit granted 7.2%. Same federal system. Same statute. Same "extraordinary and compelling reasons" standard. But if you're sentenced in Arkansas instead of New York, you're five times less likely to go home.
Todd Spodek has watched clients transferred between facilities, ending up in districts with completely different judicial attitudes toward compassionate release. The law is supposed to be uniform. The application is anything but.
At the district level, the variations are even more extreme. Oregon leads the country with a 63% grant rate. Kansas hits 43.8%. Colorado reaches 35.7%. But Eastern Pennsylvania? Zero percent. Southern Georgia? 2%. Eastern Texas? 2%.
Same dying person. Same terminal diagnosis. Same supporting documentation. Differant ZIP code. Differant outcome. That is the federal compassionate release system in 2024.
The variations arent random. They reflect deep differances in judicial philosophy. Some judges view compassionate release as a narrow exception to be used sparingly. Others see it as a genuine safety valve for extraordinary circumstances. The statute gives judges enormous discretion, and they use it in radically differant ways.
Consider what this means practically. If your loved one is transferred from a facility in Oregon (63% grant rate) to one in Eastern Texas (2% grant rate), their chances of getting out just dropped by a factor of thirty. Same person. Same medical condition. Same legal arguments. But a completely different judge looking at the motion through a completely different lens.
This geographic lottery is one of the most frustrating aspects of the compassionate release system. You cannot control were you were originaly sentenced. You cannot control which judge hears your motion. All you can control is how you present your case - and even that only matters if you happen to be in front of a judge who is willing to listen.
What the First Step Act Actually Changed (And Didnt)
Before the First Step Act, the Bureau of Prisons was the gatekeeper. An inmate had to convince the BOP to file a motion on there behalf. The BOP almost never did. Between 2006 and 2011, the BOP averaged only 24 grants per year - in a system holding over 200,000 people. The 2016 Inspector General report found that only 6% of requests were approved internally.
The First Step Act changed that by allowing inmates to file directly with the sentencing court. But here is the thing nobody talks about: the Act didnt change the standards. The Act didnt change the 3553(a) requirement. The Act didnt change what counts as "extraordinary and compelling." It just changed who gets to ask.
So now inmates can file there own motions. And 84% of those motions get denied anyway. In fiscal year 2024, the BOP Director filed or joined motions in fewer then 2% of granted cases. The vast majority - 96.4% - were filed by the inmate or there counsel. The BOP is no longer blocking the courthouse door. But the judges inside are still saying no.
At Spodek Law Group, we tell every client the same thing: the First Step Act gave you acces to the courtroom. It didnt guarentee you would win once you got their.
The Exhaustion Requirement Trap
Before you can even file a motion with the court, you have to jump through a hoop called "exhaustion." You must either exhaust all administrative remedies with the BOP, or wait 30 days after submitting a request to your warden - whichever comes first.
Sounds simple. Its not. Think about what happens in practice.
Heres the trap. Some circuits read the statute to allow court filing 30 days after the warden receives your request, regardless of whether they responded. Other circuits say that if the warden denied your request within those 30 days, you must completly exhaust the BOP administrative appeal process before going to court. That process can take a year.
The BOP knows this. Wardens frequently dont respond within 30 days, leaving applicants in limbo. Or they issue quick denials, forcing inmates through the full administrative maze. Either way, months pass. And for someone with a terminal diagnosis, months are everything.
Spodek Law Group has seen cases were clients died during the administrative process. There motion was still pending when they passed away. The system that calls itself "compassionate" couldnt process the paperwork fast enough to let a dying person see there family one last time.
Courts have also found that you must exhaust the same grounds in your warden request that you later raise in your court motion. If you mention COVID concerns to the warden but later file based on a cancer diagnosis that occurred after the warden's request, some courts will dismiss for failure to exhaust. The technicalities are endless. The clock keeps running.
This is where experience matters. An attorney who understands the exhaustion requirements can draft a warden request that anticipates future arguments. The request doesn't just describe the current medical condition - it establishes a record that will support the eventual court motion. It documents care deficiencies. It preserves evidence. It creates the foundation for an argument that doesn't get thrown out on procedural grounds.
Most pro se inmates dont know to do this. They file a simple request with the warden, wait their 30 days, then file with the court. And when the government argues that their court motion raised issues not presented to the warden, the judge agrees. Motion denied. Not on the merits. On a technicality that could of been avoided with proper preparation.
