CoreCivic Sees 55% Rise in Immigration Detainee Contracts

(CALIFORNIA, USA) Private prison operator CoreCivic recorded a 55% increase in immigration detainee contracts in 2025, fueled by a surge in federal funding and a rapid buildout of detention capacity under the Trump administration. The expansion has brought in new revenue, reopened shuttered facilities, and intensified fights with local officials and rights groups as the number of people in immigration custody climbs toward record levels.

CoreCivic said it reported $538.2 million in total revenue for the second quarter of 2025, a 9.8% increase from the same period in 2024, and announced three new contracts this year expected to deliver nearly $300 million in additional revenue. Those immigration detainee contracts together add more than 5,700 beds across facilities in California, Kansas, and Oklahoma, positioning the company to capture a growing share of federal detention spending even as controversies over conditions and oversight deepen.

The growth is rooted in a federal shift that put detention at the center of immigration enforcement. The 2025 federal budget allocated $45 billion to U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) for new detention centers, with a stated goal of doubling nationwide detention capacity to more than 100,000 beds by January 2026. As of September 7, 2025, there were 58,766 people in ICE detention, up from 37,395 the previous year, and advocates say about 72% of those detained do not have criminal convictions. ICE describes detention as a civil system for holding people while their immigration cases proceed; its detention management details are published on an official ICE page.

CoreCivic CEO Damon Hininger told investors the federal funding pivot is reshaping the company’s outlook in real time. He called the new budget

“a pivotal moment for funding related to our industry,”

adding,

“Our business is perfectly aligned with the demands of this moment.”

He said the White House and senior officials at the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) and ICE had made their priorities unmistakable since the election.

“In the days since the election, the message has been pretty darn clear from the administration, DHS leadership, and ICE leadership that detention is going to be the priority,” Hininger said, underscoring the company’s rapid expansion.

“Looking forward, we anticipate additional contracting activity that will help satisfy ICE’s growing needs.”

In California, the California City Correctional Facility began housing people on August 27, 2025 under a two-year agreement valued at an estimated $130 million annually. The facility is part of CoreCivic’s broader push in the state, where the company also reopened the California City Immigration Processing Center, a separate site with 2,560 beds, in 2025. Together, the sites deepen the company’s footprint in a state where legal and political battles over private immigration detention have roiled for years, and where the attorney general’s office conducts independent reviews of privately operated ICE facilities.

The scale-up is not confined to California. In Kansas, CoreCivic is set to detain 1,033 people at the Leavenworth facility, expected to generate $60 million per year for the company once operational. The site, called the Midwest Regional Reception Center, has become a flashpoint after a court temporarily halted its opening in a dispute over local permits. CoreCivic told officials it would pay the city $1 million upon opening and $250,000 annually thereafter, plus $150,000 to the police department, part of a package aimed at winning support in a community split over the trade-offs between new jobs and new detention beds.

In Oklahoma, the company plans to revive the long-idle Diamondback Correctional Facility, mothballed since 2010, with projections of $100 million in revenue once it becomes fully operational in 2026. The facility is a cornerstone of the new bed count CoreCivic is bringing online as ICE seeks to increase capacity across multiple regions quickly.

The company’s financial arrangements with ICE reflect a two-part payment structure common in the industry: a fixed monthly payment, plus an incremental per diem payment tied to the number of people actually held. That mix cushions the operator against swings in population while rewarding higher occupancy, a model that critics argue creates perverse incentives to expand detention even as alternatives—like community-based case management—exist outside secure facilities.

Alongside the growth, CoreCivic has reopened major sites that had been shuttered or repurposed. The South Texas Family Residential Center, a 2,400-bed complex long associated with family detention during previous surges at the border, resumed operations in 2025. These reopenings are a pillar of the company’s effort to align with ICE’s expanded mandate and to move quickly as new funding flows.

The push has drawn sharp opposition in several communities. In Newark, New Jersey, local residents and officials have gone to court and staged protests against new or expanded detention centers, arguing that the projects threaten public safety, stretch local staffing, and alter neighborhood life. The resistance in Newark echoes legal fights in Kansas and pressure campaigns in California, where lawmakers have moved to intensify state oversight over private immigration detention.

Conditions inside some facilities have become a key point of conflict. At the California City Correctional Facility, 100 out of 500 detainees protested through a hunger strike over “lack of proper medical treatment, faulty toilets, and access to outdoor spaces,” according to accounts reported by the Los Angeles Times and The Guardian. Advocacy groups described a system under strain as new beds come online faster than staffing and services can keep pace. Bruno Huizar, supervising policy manager for the California Immigrant Policy Center, warned,

“People are going to be facing life-threatening conditions where they have little to no access to food, water, and basic hygiene. Nobody deserves to be held in inhumane conditions.”

CoreCivic and ICE have rejected those claims. Brian Todd, CoreCivic’s public affairs manager, said,

“We have seen no evidence to support them and have no reason to believe they are credible.”

An ICE spokesperson called similar accounts

“nothing more than recycled talking points from activist groups and criminal aliens who broke our laws,”

a response that has angered detainees’ families and rights advocates who say the agency is dismissing first-hand reports.

The policy environment has also shifted. The Trump administration eliminated key oversight offices within DHS, including the Office of the Immigration Ombudsman and the Office of Civil Rights and Civil Liberties. Those closures have reduced independent checks on detention conditions at the same time the government is directing unprecedented resources toward expansion. In several cases, members of Congress have been denied access to visit detention centers, prompting lawsuits and protests by elected officials seeking transparency and basic oversight.

In California, the Department of Justice is required by state law to review and report on conditions at privately operated ICE detention centers. The most recent report, published in April 2025, found significant deficiencies in mental health care and in the use of force at multiple sites, adding data to longstanding concerns about access to medical care and safety in immigration custody. The findings landed as CoreCivic rolled out new immigration detainee contracts and reopened facilities in the state, setting up a clash between Sacramento’s oversight regime and Washington’s expansion plans.

For CoreCivic, the arithmetic of growth is stark. Three new contracts are expected to produce nearly $300 million in revenue, on top of the $538.2 million the company booked in the second quarter alone. The California City Correctional Facility’s two-year contract, estimated at $130 million annually, anchors the California strategy, while the Leavenworth site in Kansas would add $60 million per year once legal obstacles are cleared. The Diamondback facility in Oklahoma brings a projected $100 million when it enters service in 2026, rounding out a regional portfolio that reaches from the Southern border to the Great Plains.

The bed counts tell a similar story. More than 5,700 new detention beds are being added through 2025 contracts, alongside the reopening of the South Texas Family Residential Center’s 2,400 beds and the California City Immigration Processing Center’s 2,560 beds. ICE’s system-wide population is climbing in parallel, with 58,766 people detained as of early September, up more than 21,000 from a year earlier. Advocates note that most of those detained—about 72%—have no criminal convictions, while ICE contends detention is a lawful civil tool to ensure people appear for immigration proceedings and removals.

The company’s pivot has been encouraged from the top. Hininger framed the moment as an inflection point for the private detention sector, citing explicit signals from federal leaders.

“In the days since the election, the message has been pretty darn clear from the administration, DHS leadership, and ICE leadership that detention is going to be the priority,” he said, pointing to the company’s “perfectly aligned” business model.

With record funding, he added,

“Looking forward, we anticipate additional contracting activity that will help satisfy ICE’s growing needs.”

Yet the price of speed has been turbulence on the ground. In Kansas, the court-ordered pause in Leavenworth has left CoreCivic in limbo, despite the promised $1 million opening payment, $250,000 in annual contributions, and $150,000 for the police department. In California City, hunger strikes have highlighted complaints over medical care, sanitation, and outdoor access, even as CoreCivic disputes the accounts and ICE labels them unfounded. In New Jersey, organized opposition has slowed plans and kept the national debate in local council chambers.

The disputes underscore how local politics, state oversight, and federal policy are colliding as detention grows. California’s attorney general can scrutinize facilities and publish critical findings, but contracts and funding are controlled in Washington. City leaders can bargain for payments and pledge benefits to win support, but state courts can halt openings over environmental reviews or permits. And rights groups can document grievances and file suit, while ICE retains broad authority over custody decisions and the movement of detainees across state lines.

CoreCivic’s supporters argue the company fills a need when federal facilities are full and border apprehensions rise. The company points to its compliance programs and contends that many allegations are either unverified or politically motivated, a view echoed by ICE. Critics counter that the rush to add beds, coupled with the elimination of DHS oversight offices, is weakening accountability at exactly the wrong time. They warn that without independent monitors and guaranteed access for lawmakers, people held in remote facilities are at higher risk of medical neglect and abuse that is hard to detect and harder to prove.

The numbers are moving in one direction. ICE’s population is rising, budget authority is expanding, and CoreCivic’s pipeline of immigration detainee contracts is delivering new beds and new revenue. The company’s contracts pay a fixed monthly amount plus per diem fees for each person held, creating financial stability even when populations fluctuate and stronger returns when occupancy is high. That calculus underpins the reopenings in Texas and California and the planned launch in Oklahoma.

What happens next depends on legal challenges, state reviews, and federal procurement. In Kansas, the court fight over Leavenworth will determine when the 1,033-bed site can open. In Oklahoma, the Diamondback facility’s conversion to immigration use will be watched closely by local leaders who remember its long idle stretch after 2010. In California, the California City Correctional Facility will continue to test whether an aggressive buildout can coexist with state-level scrutiny and demands for better medical care and safer conditions.

For the thousands held in CoreCivic facilities, the policy debate translates into day-to-day realities: access to doctors, working toilets, a chance to go outside, and a phone that works when they call family or lawyers. The hunger strike by 100 of the first 500 detainees at the California City Correctional Facility drew attention not because it was large, but because it began almost immediately after the site opened on August 27, 2025, suggesting tensions inside are likely to persist as populations grow. Whether federal managers and private operators can meet basic standards at scale is now the central question for a system set to double in size within months.

Hininger’s message to investors was unequivocal:

“Our business is perfectly aligned with the demands of this moment.”

For CoreCivic, the moment is defined by more money, more beds, and more contracts. For the people inside those beds, and for the communities weighing payments against protests, the moment feels very different. As new facilities come online from California City to Leavenworth and as Diamondback moves toward service, the clash between growth and oversight will shape immigration detention in the year ahead.