ALEC's global reach: How US corporate interests drive New Zealand's punitive justice policies


New Zealand's ACT Party, Sensible Sentencing Trust, and New Zealand Taxpayers' Union simply echo US think tanks. Why?
In the quiet corners of democratic institutions, corporate interests often wield influence far beyond public awareness.
New Zealand's Sensible Sentencing Trust (SST), a vocal advocate for harsher criminal penalties, presents itself as a grassroots organisation representing victims. However, a closer examination reveals troubling parallels with the American Legislative Exchange Council (ALEC), suggesting the SST serves as part of a broader international network of right-wing policy influence — one that extends through the Atlas Network to New Zealand's ACT Party and beyond.
Contents
The hidden hand of ALEC and the Atlas Network
ALEC, founded in 1973, operates as a “membership organisation of state legislators and private sector representatives” who draft model legislation for implementation across the United States, according to the Center for Media and Democracy's account of ALEC's funding and spending. Behind this innocuous description lies a sophisticated operation funded primarily by corporations and conservative foundations, including Koch Industries, ExxonMobil, and pharmaceutical giants. These corporate members pay substantial fees — up to $25,000 annually — to gain direct access to lawmakers and influence legislation that serves their interests, the New York Times has reported.
ALEC's model bills are quietly introduced into state legislatures across America, often word-for-word, with little acknowledgement of their corporate origins. The organisation's operation is simple yet effective: corporate representatives sit alongside legislators on “task forces” that draft model bills, which are then introduced by ALEC-affiliated lawmakers in their home states. The public rarely learns of this corporate authorship, a pattern the historian Nancy MacLean traces in her book Democracy in Chains.
This approach doesn't stop at American borders. ALEC maintains close ties with the Atlas Network (formerly the Atlas Economic Research Foundation), a coordinating hub for more than 500 right-wing think tanks and advocacy groups worldwide. The Atlas Network, also heavily funded by the Koch family and similar corporate interests, serves as a global transmission mechanism for neoliberal and punitive policy models — effectively internationalising the ALEC playbook.
The Three Strikes connection and Truth in Sentencing
One of ALEC's most devastating exports has been “three strikes” legislation, which mandates life sentences for those convicted of three felonies. This policy, enthusiastically embraced by the SST in New Zealand, has been a cornerstone of America's mass incarceration crisis. The original model bill was drafted by ALEC's Criminal Justice Task Force, co-chaired at the time by a representative from Corrections Corporation of America (now CoreCivic), one of America's largest private prison corporations.
Equally concerning is ALEC's promotion of “truth in sentencing” laws, which require offenders to serve at least 85% of their sentences before becoming eligible for parole. These laws, which ALEC's Criminal Justice Task Force also drafted as model legislation in the 1990s, dramatically increased prison populations across the United States, tracked over time in the Sentencing Project's fact sheet on trends in US corrections. In New Zealand, the ACT Party has consistently advocated for similar “truth in sentencing” measures, arguing that prisoners should serve their full sentences — a position that mirrors ALEC's model bills with remarkable fidelity.
The financial motivation is transparent: more prisoners mean more profit for private prison operators. In the United States, this approach has led to a prison population that has increased by over 500% in four decades, with the country now housing around a quarter of the world's prisoners despite having only around 5% of its population, according to the Sentencing Project's corrections data.
The SST's advocacy for similar policies in New Zealand follows ALEC's playbook almost exactly, promoting fear-based narratives while ignoring evidence that such policies do not reduce crime but do increase incarceration rates — particularly among marginalised communities, as Mike Elk and Bob Sloan documented for The Nation in their investigation of ALEC's sentencing model.
The private prison connection
A critical aspect of ALEC's criminal justice agenda has been the promotion of private prisons — a policy area where corporate interests and punitive ideology converge perfectly. ALEC's model legislation for prison privatisation was developed with direct input from for-profit prison companies like CoreCivic and GEO Group, who stood to benefit financially from expanded incarceration, a pattern documented in doctoral research on New Zealand's own prison grievance mechanisms by Ti Lamusse at the University of Auckland.
New Zealand has not been immune to this trend. In 2009, the ACT-supported National government introduced private prison management, with Auckland Central Remand Prison operated by British multinational Serco. The privatisation push continued with contracts for Mt Eden Corrections Facility and, later, Auckland South Corrections Facility (Wiri). These initiatives closely followed ALEC-inspired models of prison management, emphasising cost-cutting and corporate efficiency over rehabilitation.
The results have been troubling. Serco's management of Mt Eden was terminated in 2015 after evidence emerged of fight clubs, drug use, and widespread violence under the company's watch, as the Department of Corrections' own chief inspector's report later confirmed. Despite this failure, ACT has continued to advocate for private prison expansion, echoing ALEC's claims about efficiency and cost-effectiveness while ignoring the human rights concerns and problematic outcomes documented in both countries.
The prison privatisation agenda brings with it another disturbing element: the exploitation of prison labour. Under both public and private management, prisoners are put to work for minimal compensation, manufacturing goods and providing services that generate substantial profits for corporations. This system has its roots in one of America's most troubling constitutional provisions.
The 13th Amendment: slavery's legal loophole
The United States' mass incarceration epidemic cannot be understood without examining the 13th Amendment to the US Constitution, which states: “Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States.”
This exception — “except as a punishment for crime” — created a legal loophole that Southern states promptly exploited following the Civil War. Through “Black Codes” and later Jim Crow laws, African Americans were criminalised for minor offences like vagrancy or unemployment, then forced into prison labour that closely resembled the slavery supposedly abolished, as the historian Douglas Blackmon has documented in Slavery by Another Name. This system of “convict leasing” allowed states to lease prisoners to private companies, creating a financial incentive to increase incarceration rates among Black communities.
Crucially, imprisonment also stripped Black Americans of their newly won voting rights. Most states enacted laws prohibiting prisoners from voting, and many extended this disenfranchisement beyond prison terms through felony disenfranchisement laws, a history traced by the historian Alexander Keyssar in The Right to Vote. This systematic removal of Black citizens from voter rolls helped maintain white political control in the post-Reconstruction South — a strategy that continues to impact American electoral politics today, with an estimated 4.6 million Americans disenfranchised due to felony convictions.
The scale of this disenfranchisement is staggering. In several southern states, more than one in ten Black adults is unable to vote due to felony disenfranchisement laws, and in some urban communities as many as 80% of Black men have criminal records, severely restricting their civic participation and creating what the legal scholar Michelle Alexander has termed “the new Jim Crow” — a system of racial control maintained through the criminal justice system rather than explicit segregation laws.
Today's prison labour system is a direct descendant of this practice. Incarcerated Americans produce goods and services worth billions annually while earning pennies per hour — sometimes nothing at all. This corporatisation of what can only be described as slave labour continues to disproportionately exploit Black and Brown bodies.
Racial disparities: by design, not accident
ALEC-inspired policies have consistently produced racially disparate outcomes. In the United States, Black Americans are incarcerated at nearly five times the rate of whites. For Hispanic Americans, the rate is around 1.3 times higher. In some states, the disparities are even more extreme — in Wisconsin, Oklahoma, and Minnesota, Black people are incarcerated at ten times the rate of white people, a gap the Sentencing Project has tracked in its research on racial disparity in state prisons.
These disparities are not incidental but systemic, reflecting how these policies are designed and implemented. By the age of 23, nearly half of all Black males in the United States have been arrested, compared to well under half of white males. In some urban areas with aggressive policing and prosecution, nearly 80% of young Black men now have criminal records, creating permanent barriers to employment, housing, and civic participation.
The SST's advocacy for similar approaches in New Zealand threatens to replicate these racial inequities in a country already struggling with disproportionate Maori representation in the criminal justice system. Maori make up around 15–17% of New Zealand's population but more than half the prison population — a disparity that ALEC-style policies would only exacerbate.
Paralleling the American experience, New Zealand's Electoral Act 1993 also disenfranchises prisoners serving sentences of three years or more. Between 2010 and 2020, all sentenced prisoners were banned from voting after legislation championed by the same political forces that supported Three Strikes laws. This disenfranchisement disproportionately affects Maori citizens, weakening their political voice and creating a troubling echo of America's racially-motivated voter suppression tactics.
Following the money
ALEC's financial backers reveal the true interests behind its “tough on crime” agenda. Beyond the Koch network's well-documented support, the organisation has received substantial funding from private prison corporations, including CoreCivic and GEO Group, both of which profit directly from increased incarceration rates.
Other significant funders include right-wing family foundations and corporations such as PhRMA, AT&T, and tobacco giant Altria. These entities have little interest in public safety or justice — their concern is profit and market expansion.
When the SST promotes ALEC-inspired policies in New Zealand, it's worth asking who truly benefits — the New Zealand public, or distant corporate interests seeking new markets for their carceral business model.
The New Zealand connection: SST, ACT, and the Atlas Web
The ties between ALEC, the Atlas Network, the Sensible Sentencing Trust, and New Zealand's ACT Party form a concerning web of policy influence. While direct financial connections are often deliberately obscured, the ideological alignment and policy similarities are unmistakable. The ACT Party, New Zealand's libertarian-right political party, has consistently championed the same “tough on crime” policies promoted by the SST and originating with ALEC.
The Atlas Network has maintained connections with several New Zealand organisations over the years, including the New Zealand Initiative (formerly the Business Roundtable), which has advocated for similar market-based approaches to criminal justice. Another key player in this network is the New Zealand Taxpayers' Union, which openly identifies itself as an Atlas Network partner and consistently amplifies ACT Party policies across various issues, including criminal justice. The revolving door between the Taxpayers' Union and ACT is well-documented, with staff and founders frequently moving between the two organisations, further cementing the ideological and operational alignment between Atlas Network affiliates and ACT's policy platform. These interconnections suggest a deliberate exportation of policy models rather than independent development.
Key to understanding these connections is New Zealand businessman Alan Gibbs, one of the country's wealthiest individuals and a significant financial backer of the ACT Party since its founding. Gibbs has maintained ties with international libertarian networks, including the Atlas Network and its affiliates. His daughter, Debbi Gibbs, chairs the Atlas Network's board, the same network that has provided awards and travel scholarships to the Taxpayers' Union. The Gibbs family's financial power has been instrumental in establishing and maintaining New Zealand's right-wing policy infrastructure, creating conduits for ALEC-inspired policies to enter the country's political system.
The SST and ACT have frequently collaborated on criminal justice initiatives, with both pushing for New Zealand's version of Three Strikes legislation, which passed in 2010 with ACT's support. This legislation mirrors ALEC's model bills almost exactly, despite being presented as a uniquely New Zealand solution to crime.
Furthermore, prominent ACT members have attended international gatherings where Atlas Network and ALEC representatives shared their “successful” policy approaches, creating conduits for these ideas to enter New Zealand's political discourse. The Sensible Sentencing Trust has benefited from this network as well, with its tough-on-crime messaging often amplified by media outlets and commentators connected to the broader Gibbs-ACT-Atlas ecosystem. This pattern of influence demonstrates how seemingly local policy debates are often shaped by international corporate networks.
The human cost of corporate justice
The consequences of these imported policy models extend far beyond statistics. Behind every incarceration number is a human being — often someone who needed rehabilitation, mental health services, or addiction treatment rather than punishment. The corporate-driven justice model prioritises retribution and profit over healing and restoration, imposing immense social costs that fall disproportionately on marginalised communities.
In the United States, mass incarceration has devastated Black and Brown communities, separating families, diminishing economic opportunities, and perpetuating cycles of disadvantage. New Zealand's indigenous Maori population faces similar harm from punitive approaches that ignore cultural contexts and historical inequities. The human toll includes not only those incarcerated but also their families and communities left to manage without support.
Prison labour exploitation compounds this injustice. When prisoners work for pennies manufacturing goods that corporations sell for substantial profits, they experience a modern form of indentured servitude. Upon release, they face barriers to employment, housing, and civic participation — a system designed to perpetuate dependency and disadvantage rather than facilitate rehabilitation.
Beyond punishment: alternative models
The failures of ALEC-inspired criminal justice approaches are evident in both their human and financial costs. Nations that have rejected this punitive model in favour of rehabilitative approaches have demonstrated superior outcomes in reducing reoffending and facilitating social reintegration.
Scandinavian countries, for example, focus on maintaining prisoners' connections to society, providing education and vocational training, and addressing underlying factors that contribute to criminal behaviour. These approaches have resulted in recidivism rates significantly lower than those in countries following the ALEC model.
Indigenous justice practices offer another alternative. Restorative justice models emphasising community healing, victim-offender reconciliation, and addressing root causes have shown promise where implemented. These approaches recognise that true justice requires repair, not merely punishment, and that community wellbeing depends on reintegration rather than exclusion.
The path forward
The exportation of ALEC's punitive criminal justice framework to New Zealand through these interconnected organisations represents a troubling colonisation of policy. Rather than importing failed approaches that have devastated communities of colour in the United States, New Zealand has an opportunity to reject this corporate-driven model and pursue evidence-based policies that address the root causes of crime while advancing equity and justice.
The first step is recognising the SST for what it appears to be: not an independent voice for victims, but part of a global network channelling corporate interests that profit from punishment, incarceration, and the exploitation of prison labour. By understanding these connections, New Zealanders can better evaluate whether these imported policy prescriptions truly serve their interests or those of distant corporate beneficiaries.
As citizens, we must question whose voices are elevated in criminal justice debates and whose interests they serve. By exposing the corporate networks behind seemingly grassroots advocacy, we can begin to chart a path toward a justice system that prioritises human dignity and community wellbeing over corporate profit.
Only then can we hope to break free from the destructive cycle of punishment and exploitation that defines the ALEC model of criminal justice.


