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When Multnomah County sought to keep people out of jail for possessing drugs, it spent $3.8 million to turn an old print warehouse on Southeast Sandy Boulevard into a depotlike clinic where cops could drop off the people they picked up.
In a suite of measures aimed at the same outcome, neighboring Washington County spent $1,000 on burner cellphones for drug users so counselors could keep in touch with people willing to give treatment a try.
One of the toughest things about drug rehabilitation is communication, says Danielle Farr, coordinator of Washington County’s deflection program. When a treatment bed becomes available and the county can’t reach an eligible patient, having the bed does no good.
“It’s one of the lowest-cost, highest-outcome interventions that we can provide,” Farr says of the phones.
Why the different approaches? One explanation is that bigger problems require bigger solutions. Multnomah County has more people than Washington County (795,000 compared with 612,000) and far more people struggling with substance abuse, so treating them costs more. One measure: In the 12 months ended June 30, 448 deaths were provisionally attributed to overdoses in Multnomah County, compared with just 76 in Washington County, according to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s National Center for Health Statistics.
But critics question whether the millions for a Multnomah County deflection center is being spent effectively. County Commissioners Julia Brim-Edwards and Shannon Singleton recently pushed for passage of a resolution that would make Multnomah County’s deflection program look a little more like Washington County’s, which has more stick and, arguably, also more carrot.
To find fixes for Multnomah County’s program, Brim-Edwards says her staff surveyed counties that had found cost-effective methods for keeping drug possession from turning into prison time. Among them were Jackson County, in Southern Oregon, and Washington County, just over the West Hills.
“What’s attractive about Washington County is that they are getting results,” Brim-Edwards tells WW. “They are getting people through deflection and into treatment.”
Most Oregonians learned the term “deflection” in 2024, when the Oregon Legislature amended Measure 110, the 2020 initiative that made Oregon the first state in the nation to decriminalize drug possession (selling drugs remained illegal). In the wake of 110’s passage, fentanyl smoke clouded many blocks downtown and users slumped on sidewalks. Overdoses jumped.
Eager to avoid another war on drugs, state legislators recriminalized possession but built wide off-ramps on the road to jail. They let the counties opt in, making grants to those that participated and letting them figure out the best ways to treat people in lieu of locking them up.
All but eight of Oregon’s 36 counties agreed to take the cash and try deflection.
Multnomah County soaks up the biggest share of the state’s deflection money. In the two-year period ended June 30, 2025, Multnomah County got $4,313,852, or 23.3% of the total, compared with $2,120,517 (11.5%) for Lane County and $1,504,885 (8.1%) for Washington County.
Kevin Barton, the Washington County district attorney, is a believer in deflection. To work, though, he says the criminal justice system should loom as a consequence for people who fail to pursue treatment after detouring from jail. Most critics, including Barton and Brim-Edwards, say that Multnomah County’s deflection program retained too much of Measure 110’s leniency.
“If they don’t engage, there will be a prosecution,” Barton says of deflectees.
Before the changes shepherded by Brim-Edwards and Singleton, a Multnomah County arrestee could avoid court by seeking peer support, shelter, medical help, sobering services, detox, treatment for substance use disorder, mental health treatment or “insurance/basic needs.”
In practical terms, that meant someone didn’t have to seek treatment immediately to deflect. They could do things that led to treatment, like seek housing or medical care for other afflictions. One extreme example that made the rounds during the debate: A person could deflect by getting a painful tooth pulled so treatment became more viable.
That said, substance use disorder treatment and recovery support services accounted for 81% of services accessed by successful deflectees, according to the county.
Barton, for one, thinks deflection should require treatment. To complete deflection in Washington County, a person must undergo a substance use assessment, an interview that can take two hours, according to the U.S. Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration. Next, they must engage in treatment and prove it with records, feedback from a provider, or drug tests. Finally, they must show that they are likely to stick with treatment after deflection.
Deflectees in Washington County must stay on task for six months. Before the Brim-Edwards/Singleton reforms, those in Multnomah County could satisfy deflection by sticking with it for just a month. Now, they must meet with a care coordinator, case manager or service provider at least five times in 90 days, with milestones to meet at one month and two months.
Even in successful programs like Washington County’s, the number of drug offenders kept out of jail looks anemic given an environment defined by scary headlines and people nodding off in the street.
In its first-year report on deflection, released last month for the 12 months ended Sept. 5, Washington County said 90 people had opted for deflection, with 39 active participants, 24 completions, 23 exits from the program, and four people who talked with a case manager but chose not to proceed. The completions give a success rate of 27%, with more likely to come as the 39 active members moved through the system. Washington County has had 45 completions to date.
Multnomah County, meantime, claimed 113 completions out of a total 392 offenders who chose deflection, giving a similar 29% success rate, even though succeeding was easier in Multnomah County because completion demanded accessing only one service and keeping at it for just a month.
Like Barton, Brim-Edwards says the problem is ensuring accountability. Deflection participants must be asked to do more in terms of treatment or face penalties if they don’t, she says.
Months before Brim-Edwards and Singleton started their reforms, Multnomah County District Attorney Nathan Vasquez began moving toward Washington County’s approach, defying County Chair Jessica Vega Pederson, who had objected to most anything that could appear punitive in deflection. In November, he declared that anyone leaving the Path Center on Sandy without completing an assessment could be prosecuted on the charge that sent them there. Same if a person didn’t “meaningfully engage” in treatment within 90 days.
The upshot is that after two years, Multnomah County has arrived at a deflection system that Washington County adopted at inception. It took months of acrimony between Vasquez and Vega Pederson and a full debate at the board of commissioners, but Brim-Edwards and Singleton say it’s better late than never.
“If you’re not getting the results you want,” Brim-Edwards says, “you have to evolve.”
