If you're arrested for even the most minor charge, police will check your fingerprints against the national IAFIS database, where more than 70 million prints are on file. So why shouldn't they be able to check your DNA, too?

That's the question raised by state Sen. Nicholas Sacco, an advocate for greater use of DNA since 1994, years before CSI and DNA became well-known terms. He and I were running mates for the first time in 1993 and after we'd won the primary, we compiled a list of things we intended to do in Trenton. Among them was to get New Jersey into the FBI's CODIS database. New, it was used chiefly to track sex offenders and only a dozen states were participating. We introduced legislation requiring New Jersey to join.

Since we were minority party freshmen, it was easy for leadership to ignore us. And they did. But good friends and good luck were on our side. I inveigled an invitation to visit the FBI lab in Washington, saw DNA evidence being processed, and became a DNA evangelist.

FBI agents in Newark agreed to help us to talk to other legislators, and by sheer coincidence Curtis Sliwa, founder of the Guardian Angels, also offered to travel around with us. We drew some pretty funny reactions from our colleagues when we showed up with two men in dark blue suits and a bunch of guys in red berets, but we sure did get their attention.

State Police leaders were a tougher sell. Many felt DNA was pseudo-science and said their old, inadequate laboratory couldn't handle it anyway. That opposition melted, however, when our bill passed as part of the Megan's Law package and NJSP got funding for a new lab. As use of DNA expanded, more lawbreakers were convicted with the help of DNA evidence and some unjustly jailed persons were freed when DNA analysis proved they didn't do it.

In the late '90s, credible studies by experts in the criminal justice field reported few people start out committing major crimes. However, petty offenders are likely to escalate their criminal activities, so the experts said that identifying them early and offering alternatives could prevent that escalation. Sacco then introduced legislation calling for the collection of DNA from all convicted persons for inclusion in an all-crimes database.

That bill sparked another tough legislative battle. The ACLU and defense lawyers fought it every step of the way. Eventually it passed in a watered-down version that required only persons convicted of violent crimes to give DNA samples.

Collecting DNA is not invasive, just a swab of the inner cheek. It is as quick and easy as taking a photograph, an eye scan or a fingerprint. So Sacco feels there's no legitimate reason for anyone to refuse to give a sample. With a reliability factor of almost a billion to one, DNA can identify missing persons, convict guilty persons, and exonerate innocent persons. Sacco sees all good in that. He wonders "What's not to love?"

But some people don't love it at all. They include conspiracy theorists who believe Big Brother will use their DNA for nefarious purposes and privacy-rights folks protesting that recording their DNA is unconstitutional. Sacco politely listens to their arguments and then reminds them he's not giving up on his quest.

He is convinced that maintaining a DNA database of all convicted persons is inexpensive, easy to use, and will go a long way to keep the public safe. Maybe this is the year he'll get the chance to prove he's right.

Read the rest here:
Quigley: Expanding the DNA database