We generally refer to Recidivism as the individual’s tendency to commit another crime after being imprisoned, penalised, or kept in custody. In fact, it is the recurring crime by the same person who has been proven guilty by the court, punished by the relevant authorities or been through rehabilitation for committing an offence. Although this sounds very normal, this is a complicated phenomenon rather than just another crime because it is linked with the legitimacy, capability, and equity of the legal system.
In Nepal, there is a significant gap between the enforcement of laws, judicial proceedings, transparency, accountability and responsiveness as exposed by the recent political protests and their aftermath. We can notice the public perceptions on impunity and justice bias through the reports of delayed or inadequate investigations into violence, the unlawful use of force, including concerns raised by international human rights organisations, which matter the most when we think about civic responsiveness and state responsibilities. When communities lose faith in legal institutions, it weakens the legal compliance, resulting in a state of recidivism. This is not symbolising inherited criminalism, it is the consequence of the system failing to deter, rehabilitate and reintegrate the perpetrators, suspects, detainees or offenders.
In reference to the International human rights law, we understand recidivism through the lens of dignity, rehabilitation and reintegration. Legal protocols like the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), the UN Standard Minimum Rules for the Treatment of Prisoners (Nelson Mandela Rules), the UN Tokyo Rules on non-custodial measures and the UN Beijing Rules on juvenile justice collectively emphasize that punishment alone cannot reduce repetition of offending.
While in the Nepalese context, Nepal’s National Criminal Code, 2017 (Muluki Aparadh Sahita), incorporates repeat offending into its sentencing framework. Courts are recognised to handle recidivism as an aggravating factor, impose stricter penalties on habitual or repeat offenders and forbid bail for those with a notable history of repeated criminal conduct. These provisions are grounded in deterrence and public safety concerns that show the legitimate interest of the State for preventing crime.
While Norway is considered to be one of the countries with strong child protection laws, social services, low crime rates and high education, the judicial system ruled that placing a 16-year-old in a child welfare institution, even for repeated offences, is not the same as criminal punishment. The focus must be on protecting the child and addressing underlying issues, not simply penalising them.
In Montgomery v. Louisiana, the Supreme Court recognised a simple truth: kids can grow and change. By applying Miller v. Alabama retroactively, the Court encouraged rehabilitation instead of punishment that facilitated thousands of juvenile offenders to seek new sentences through the roadmap of rehabilitation. This decision reshapes how we think about youth, justice, and recidivism.
In Salil Bali v. Union of India, the Supreme Court sent a simple but powerful social direction: children deserve guidance, not harsh sentences. By focusing on rehabilitation, the ruling offers a model for reducing repeat offending and building a fairer justice system.
In Advocate Prakash Mani Sharma v. Government of Nepal, the Supreme Court of Nepal has adopted a principled scenario addressing the issue of repeated juvenile offending by reframing it as a failure of social and institutional support rather than an indicator of inherent criminality.
Having said that, rehabilitation is not the final alternative; it’s a legal and moral obligation which must be rooted in the child rights, development science and restorative justice theories and principles.
Despite of the judiciary acknowledging the reality of repetition while firmly rejecting criminal prediction as a basis for punishment in this case stating that a child who offends repeatedly is not a future criminal, but a present responsibility of the State, the Constitution of Nepal (2015) provides the robust protection for children under Article 39, guaranteeing the right to protection, education, development, and a safe environment. Detention, where unavoidable, must respect dignity, serve the best interests of the child, and prioritise rehabilitation.
In fact, these principles are not only associated with the constitution but are operationalised through the Children’s Act, 2075 (2018), which mandates separation of children from adult prisoners, limits detention to a last resort for the shortest possible period, and requires access to education, counselling, healthcare, and skill development. The National Juvenile Justice Policy and Guidelines demand child-friendly facilities, psychosocial contribution, vocational training and planned reintegration events in order to complement this framework proposed by the act.
Internationally, articles 37 and 40 of the Convention on the Rights of the Child clarify that detention must be a last resort and that children in conflict with the law are entitled to rehabilitation and reintegration. The Beijing Rules further encourage diversion, community-based alternatives, and educational interventions, while the Nelson Mandela Rules underscore humane treatment and the rehabilitative purpose of detention.
To sum up, recidivism is not merely a statistic measuring repeat crime; it is a reflection of how societies respond to those who offend. Particularly in cases involving children, treating repetition as proof of future criminality undermines constitutional guarantees, international law, and basic principles of justice. There have been several efforts made through activism stating that the children are our future, where the investment should be made in their potential, but rather it has been diverted towards imposing strict punishment and ways of directing them towards silence.
Clearly, we have not realised that every child in detention is a reflection of society’s failure and not the child’s fault. The lesson from the Gen Z protests is that detaining children is not the outcome of imposing discipline but solid evidence of long-held frustration, acute suffering and a system falling apart. The moral obligation of rehabilitation and right-based actions should be grounded in dignity, dialogue, social support and juvenile justice rather than a state of clemency. Collectively, it’s high time we analyse whether society is equipping children with growth opportunities, or merely preparing them for incarceration.
