The

By Alain L. Sanders

At times the proceedings looked more like a tragicomedy than a federal criminal trial. First a Government witness fainted on the stand, then the defendant suffered a hallucinatory breakdown and was carted off for psychiatric tests. Even nature played an impromptu walk-on part as Hurricane Hugo temporarily suspended the federal trial in Charlotte, N.C.

Last week, however, the soap-opera proceedings turned deadly serious for Jim Bakker. Convicted 19 days earlier of fraudulently raising $158 million in contributions from his adoring flock, the smooth-talking, scandal-plagued televangelist drew a stunning 45-year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine.

"I'm deeply sorry for the people who have been hurt," Bakker contritely told U.S. District Judge Robert Potter just before the sentencing. "I have sinned. I have made mistakes. But never in my life did I intend to defraud anyone." That last-ditch bid for leniency made little impression on the judge, known as "Maximum Bob" because of his penchant for stiff sentences. "Those of us who do have a religion are sick of being saps for money- grubbing preachers and priests," Potter angrily told the defendant. Bakker, 49, was quickly bound in handcuffs and leg-irons and driven to a federal facility in Talladega, Ala., to begin serving his time. He is to be transferred to a medium-security medical center in Minnesota and assigned to its work crew. Unless the conviction or sentence is reversed on appeal, he will stay behind bars for at least ten years before becoming eligible for parole.

In a country where convicted murderers are sentenced to an average of 20 years, Bakker's punishment seemed excessive and arbitrary to many people. "Before some judges, Bakker might have gotten off with little more than probation," said a federal judge, who declined to be identified.

The stiff prison term once again drew attention to the glaring inequalities that often characterize sentencing decisions in the U.S. Despite efforts at reform, much of the nation's criminal sentencing system is still based on an idiosyncratic set of decisions made by crime-busting legislatures and individual trial judges. New York State law, for example, sets extremely broad parameters for various crimes -- one to 25 years for a bank robbery, 1 1/2 to 15 years for first-degree assault -- but leaves it to the discretion of each judge to fix the actual sentence. The theory behind this system is that punishment should be tailored to such factors as the circumstances of a crime and the culpability of the individual defendant.

The problem, of course, is that a case-by-case approach can easily create inconsistencies. For one thing, legislatures are not always careful to calibrate each offense according to its severity; this can lead to situations in which an armed assault can draw the same penalty, say 15 years, as a simple robbery. In recent years, moreover, disparities in the punishments prescribed for various crimes have been exaggerated by legislators' tendency to enact mandatory minimum sentences, particularly for drug crimes.

Many jurists oppose this policy as an encroachment on their prerogatives. Like the American Bar Association, Federal District Judge Marvin Aspen complains that "mandatory sentencing gets rid of judicial decision making." Tailoring a punishment to the criminal, he says, means that sentences should be appropriately different for each defendant.

Critics of sentence tailoring claim that it results in gross inequalities. They point out that the main beneficiaries of judicial discretion are frequently white-collar criminals, who draw lighter jail terms or alternative sentences that keep them out of prison altogether. On the other hand, high- profile defendants sometimes bear the brunt of judicial wrath in order to be made a societal example -- something that Bakker's supporters claim has happened in his case. Finally, punishments that seem appropriate or are possible vary from community to community. This, says New York State Judge Steven Fisher, can lead to the creation of numerous "free-market systems," each reflecting what the local punishment market will bear.

Reformers are trying to bring some sense of rationality to this chaotic system. In 1984, following numerous complaints about sentence disparities, Congress created the U.S. Sentencing Commission. Its task: to develop for each type of federal crime a uniform punishment grid, carefully weighted to take into account such variables as the use of a gun, the amount of money stolen, and the age of the victim. Federal judges whose sentences deviate from these guidelines must state their reasons in writing, and their rulings are subject to appellate review.

The new federal system, which took effect in 1987, appears thus far to be an improvement over most state systems. But its ultimate effectiveness remains uncertain. For one thing, says Samuel Alito, the U.S. Attorney in Newark, N.J., "we don't know how courts of appeals will treat departures from the guidelines." Other experts, such as Columbia University law professor Gerard Lynch, argue that the process of adjusting to the new procedures can be beneficial "if it forces judges to articulate what they are doing." The U.S. Sentencing Commission can then analyze whether any changes in its grid of punishments are called for.

For Jim Bakker, however, federal sentencing reforms have come too late: the crimes for which he was convicted were committed before the federal guidelines went into effect. Had they been applied in his case, he would have received a maximum prison term of only six years, say most experts. Maximum Bob gave him more than seven times that.

With reporting by Jerome Cramer/Washington and Tom Curry/New York