Can there ever be a 'rehabilitative prison'? Because prison damages, it’s what it is good at and predicated upon. It shreds your life, destroys your social capital, then spits you out with a travel warrant and a plastic sack of your possessions.
Can it ever be anything more? Is the best that we can hope for a prison which is less damaging than now? And in recognising this, limit its use to those who truly need confinement?
Showing posts with label prison. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prison. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Prisoner and t'Interweb
In fairness, I should begin this by saying that the two times I've been allowed near the Net, both ended with my making my way to the pictures of naked ladies. Civilisation did not collapse and the fabric of society didn't turn to dust.
The prison service has a revulsion of technology that would make even a Luddite blush. It is instinctive and pervasive. When I began this sentence we were not even allowed radio's that could receive FM or which could be powered by mains electricity. The argument was that, with FM, we could listen to staff radio communications traffic. This was a pathetic lie but they stuck to it until the national radio stations switched completely to FM.
Telephones and TV's didn't impinge on our consciousness, let alone to the extent of being a hope or dream. It took nearly a century after the invention of the phone before we were permitted restricted access. It only took about sixty years after the TV was invented before we had them. That is some improvement, surely...?!
But the internet... Just mention the word and management enter a state of incoherent brain-freeze, running around in a circle repeating the word 'security', the prison service’s all purpose soothing mantra that substitutes for thinking.
This is not to say that unrestricted internet access couldn't be used for malevolent ends. I do accept that. So the question is, can a form of net access to allowed which offers all of the benefits but minimises the potential harms? The prison service says not.
Except, of course, when it comes to using cons to make millions in profit. There is a private E-Commerce company which operates in one prison, where dozens of cons work for joke money whilst making the bosses millions in profits. They do manage to block the objectionable end of the net.
I once worked for that company whilst at the same time I was undertaking my Masters degree. Could I use the net for research? No. Would the prison install any type of net access in the Education Department? Not on your life. So for a full working week I was on the net, but when I needed it for something other than making someone money it was prohibited on security grounds. And people wonder just why I hold the system in such contempt.
Let us assume that many of the 8,000 mobile phones the prison service confiscated from prisoners in the past year were net-enabled. What wickedness has befallen our nation due to this? All I can see is that the odd jackass puts his picture on Facebook.Apart from that, nothing. No ill effects whatever.
The horrors that some people feel could flow from Net access are quite bizarre. This is illustrated by the response to my blogging from the Director of the Howard League. Whilst supporting prisoners blogging (preferably by less challenging individuals, though!) and having some net access, she said we must obviously be denied access to internet pornography.
Ummm...Why, exactly?
The prison service has a revulsion of technology that would make even a Luddite blush. It is instinctive and pervasive. When I began this sentence we were not even allowed radio's that could receive FM or which could be powered by mains electricity. The argument was that, with FM, we could listen to staff radio communications traffic. This was a pathetic lie but they stuck to it until the national radio stations switched completely to FM.
Telephones and TV's didn't impinge on our consciousness, let alone to the extent of being a hope or dream. It took nearly a century after the invention of the phone before we were permitted restricted access. It only took about sixty years after the TV was invented before we had them. That is some improvement, surely...?!
But the internet... Just mention the word and management enter a state of incoherent brain-freeze, running around in a circle repeating the word 'security', the prison service’s all purpose soothing mantra that substitutes for thinking.
This is not to say that unrestricted internet access couldn't be used for malevolent ends. I do accept that. So the question is, can a form of net access to allowed which offers all of the benefits but minimises the potential harms? The prison service says not.
Except, of course, when it comes to using cons to make millions in profit. There is a private E-Commerce company which operates in one prison, where dozens of cons work for joke money whilst making the bosses millions in profits. They do manage to block the objectionable end of the net.
I once worked for that company whilst at the same time I was undertaking my Masters degree. Could I use the net for research? No. Would the prison install any type of net access in the Education Department? Not on your life. So for a full working week I was on the net, but when I needed it for something other than making someone money it was prohibited on security grounds. And people wonder just why I hold the system in such contempt.
Let us assume that many of the 8,000 mobile phones the prison service confiscated from prisoners in the past year were net-enabled. What wickedness has befallen our nation due to this? All I can see is that the odd jackass puts his picture on Facebook.Apart from that, nothing. No ill effects whatever.
The horrors that some people feel could flow from Net access are quite bizarre. This is illustrated by the response to my blogging from the Director of the Howard League. Whilst supporting prisoners blogging (preferably by less challenging individuals, though!) and having some net access, she said we must obviously be denied access to internet pornography.
Ummm...Why, exactly?
Saturday, December 12, 2009
When to Obey?
Thinking back over my long prison career, the strongest continuous theme has been my questioning orders and sometimes refusing to obey them.
In order to do this in a rational way, I have had to create a set of criteria to sift out what is a proper order and what should be disobeyed. To rely on whether it is personally convenient is pretty vague, so I hope I surmounted that. I don't randomly go around disobeying for the sake of it.
Presented with a requirement which instinctively feels a bit dodgy, I ask myself two questions. Does the order have a legitimate aim? That is, does the order relate to the context of imprisonment and its purposes? If a screw ordered me to hop on one leg, for instance, it would fail that test. Ditto with the order I received when I was at Open to sit around a table full of smackheads and fold bits of paper. Open is about seamlessly reintroducing us to the community, not take the Mickey.
If an order does pass this initial filter, then the second question arises. Is the order likely to help achieve that aim? It's amazing how many orders are given which don't actually relate to the stated purpose. If it is a legitimate order and likely to achieve some lawful purpose, then fine.
Alas, so many governors have a genuine messianic belief that their authority derives from the Divine Right of Kings. No sense or legitimacy is required, the very fact they say it is enough. And therein lies my problem.
Power does not carry its own justification. Just because someone holds a gun to your head doesn't mean their order is 'right'. It has to be legitimate and rational. If it is not, then it is down to each person’s conscience and moral compass to decide their response.
Although I have grown increasingly flexible as the years have passed, there are still many moments where it boils down to a black or white decision. Should I comply with illegitimate, irrational orders? Or should I resist?
For me (and I don't recommend this to anyone), to comply with an order when it's only justification is that 'I will hurt you if you don't' is to undermine all that it means to be a sovereign human being. For me, not only is refusing to comply the prime option, it is a moral and political imperative.
Without wishing to imply I fall into this category, there is profound truth in the statement that 'for evil to prosper, it is only necessary that good men do nothing'. And those in authority who expect their orders to be obeyed solely by virtue that they possess greater power are an evil.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Am I an Alcoholic?
You would be amazed at the proportion of murders in which alcohol played a significant part in the unfolding of tragic events. You may think, then, that someone might be interested in how I handle my drink.
Of course, booze is officially prohibited in prison. Until recently, we could be issued a tot by the Doctor but, even though this has never happened, someone in HQ decided to shut that loophole.
This doesn't mean that there isn't booze around, in the form of ‘hooch’. Home brewed concoctions of chemical ingenuity, brewed in odd hiding places and shifted around the prison in secret operations until ready to drink. I have no problem in saying that I'm not a bad brewer, having in years past earned a few pennies by flogging hooch.
That said, I can't recall the last time I had a drink. I can take it or leave it, my preference is for cannabis. But I have known those who start the day with a drink and whose sole aim in life is finding the next one.
Of course, you only have my word for this. For all anyone knows, I'm an absolute piss head, and one who gets violent with it. I may know that I'm a contented drunk, slowly leaning sideways at ever increasing angles the more I imbibe. But you don't know that.
More significantly, neither do my keepers. At no point during my sentence can I have alcohol. Even in Open prison, where we are meant to be tested for our reactions to the outside world, it is prohibited. When we work outside or go on home leaves, it is on condition that we don't enter licensed premises.
This highlights the tension between rehabilitation and punishment. Open prisons are meant to test us but at the same time they try to prohibit anything that we may enjoy, so no booze and no relationships. These only happen to be the two elements that are involved in most murders.
So when do we find out how I handle alcohol? When I am finally released. It could be when I'm sitting in a restaurant in good company with a glass of wine. Or it could be as I'm staggering along the road, Special Brew in hand, taking wild swings at passers-by.
I would have thought that the prison service, my keepers for most of my life, owes society a bit more certainty when it finally kicks me out, don't you?
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Happiness
The key to happiness in prison lies in focusing upon the small things that bring pleasure.
To raise one's eyes above the horizon, to dream of the world just out of reach, is to risk subjecting oneself to that endless torment that comes from grasping for the Moon.
Today is a good day. The words have been flowing from mind to keyboard at an astonishing rate. Someone has lent me a battery to run my new MP3 player and I can allow myself to be moved by music. The paper I am printing on is a particularly pleasing shade of white. There is an interesting science programme on the TV. My beard is nicely cropped, like a Gandhi gone slightly to pot. And I replied to a pile of my mail, easing my conscience somewhat.
I am in prison. From where I sit, I can only take three steps before the walls or door halt me. I am separated from those I love and care for. I am fighting the depression that grows out of the perpetual frustration of feeling unable to make a difference to life. And I go to sleep knowing that this will be repeated again for an unknown number of tomorrows.
Focus on the small things. You will surely be happier.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Answers 2
Gaina-
If you could make one major change to the criminal justice system
for (a) Adult and (b) Juvenile offenders, what would they be?
I would throw out criminal justice and institute restorative justice. Responding to social harm by inflicting more harm is the dumbest artefact of Western civilisation. It is the equivalent of two men punching each other in the face, to see who gives in first. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
JackP-
To what extent does prison life become 'normal' over time- as in, do people just in find it very difficult to cope, and is there a risk that people at the other end of the scale (such as yourself) become institutionalised and may find problems dealing with outside life again?
We must differentiate between two concepts. There is 'prisonisation', where one picks up and learns the local culture and mores. Then there is 'institutionalisation’, which is a fairly vague concept which usually implies a loss of skills, intellect or ability.
Prisonisation is the process new arrivals undergo. This is like landing in a foreign country; initially slightly confusing, but the local knowledge allowing one to function is picked up rapidly. Some people do find it hard to cope because the change is unremitting and unavoidable.
You can get used to prison, as you can get used to any set of difficult circumstances. Human beings are incredibly adaptable. But it is always deeply abnormal. It is also not unusual for it to become less easy to cope with as time passes. I recall having terrible difficulty at the start of my second decade, leading me to try and kill myself through an extended hunger strike (43 days). These periods tend to afflict me every ten years or so. I seem to survive; some lifers don't.
Institutionalisation is largely a myth based on flawed experiments made on rats, exploring the concept of ‘learned helplessness'. I have little time for it. That isn't to say that the transition from prison to freedom is devoid of difficulty.
This isn't because we lose our abilities during the sentence but rather is a function of self-belief. Imprisonment is a perpetual exercise in being patronized, dis-empowered and de-skilled. If you persistently tell people that they are inadequate, some will begin to believe it. Those are the ones who worry about freedom, begin to believe that they cannot cope, and it a false concern.
I do find discussions around institutionalisation as interesting as they are frustrating. Everybody seems to mean something different by it, and if I try to pin them down on quite what, exactly, is meant to be difficult about daily life then the answers become evasive. Six billion people bumble through daily life okay, how hard can it be? What do you think I may have problems with?
People forget (or don't realise) that prisons are a little society and encompasses all the features of the wider world, if somewhat warped. There is a social structure, neighbour disputes, work, a complex economy… all we seem to lack is decent access to technology!
2. Also, what is the mood like? Do people try their best to get on with it, or is there a certain amount of gloom and resentment hanging around all of the time?
It's a truism that if you put more than two lifers in a room, there will be an outbreak of moaning. I think that's quite optimistic…
We do try to get on with it, trying to create and sustain an existence of sorts within which we can find some meaning. We also complain like hell about every aspect of our lives. It is more bitterness than gloom, and it lurks just beneath the surface.
As is common in all difficult situations, humour is a great defence against being overwhelmed. Prison humour is appalling, way beyond the pale of normal people and though I wish I could, I dare not share any of it with you! We make Frankie Boyle look like Norman Wisdom.
3. Are there any groups of people (such as chronic re-offenders) who the system is unable to deal with? If so, how would you protect the public from these people?
Depends what you mean by "deal with'. The system can physically contain and control any individual within its grasp. Whether it can 'deal' with making a positive difference is another issue.
The prison system can only do what society funds and mandates. There are those who are particularly difficult, in that present systems seem unable to change them for the better. This doesn't mean that other methods and systems wouldn't work, only that they are presently neglected due to political and social constraints.
There are those I have met, even some I live with now, who I would hesitate to release. But I refuse to accept that there are many of them who cannot change.
Prison is stuffed full of chronic re-offenders. But are they really socially dangerous, or are they more of a nuisance? They are often drug users, which highlights an old complaint that the prison system is asked to deal with sociomedical problems because no one else wants to deal with them. Free heroin would slash the crime rate.
Perhaps you refer to the likes of serial killers? This is a moot point, as none have ever been released yet. Can they be changed? No one knows, no one has tried. Only those who have never been caught, yet have stopped killing know the answer and they are keeping their mouths shut.
Or maybe you mean serial rapists or paedophiles? The prison service claims some success with its Sex Offender Treatment Programme. I think their research is shoddy and dishonest. That said, the re-offending rates for sex offenders is one of the lowest (murderers being lowest of all).
In a real sense I echo the view of John McVicar. Prison doesn't reform. It is up to the individual to decide to change. I suppose the best prison can ever do is create an environment conducive to that change and which supports it. Such a pity it never has.
4. What time is it?
As I write, it's 8:55 pm and we have just been locked up for the night. I'm settling down trying to listen to Jack Johnson and read a paper but the damn bell ringers in the church opposite are really going for it.
If you could make one major change to the criminal justice system
for (a) Adult and (b) Juvenile offenders, what would they be?
I would throw out criminal justice and institute restorative justice. Responding to social harm by inflicting more harm is the dumbest artefact of Western civilisation. It is the equivalent of two men punching each other in the face, to see who gives in first. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
JackP-
To what extent does prison life become 'normal' over time- as in, do people just in find it very difficult to cope, and is there a risk that people at the other end of the scale (such as yourself) become institutionalised and may find problems dealing with outside life again?
We must differentiate between two concepts. There is 'prisonisation', where one picks up and learns the local culture and mores. Then there is 'institutionalisation’, which is a fairly vague concept which usually implies a loss of skills, intellect or ability.
Prisonisation is the process new arrivals undergo. This is like landing in a foreign country; initially slightly confusing, but the local knowledge allowing one to function is picked up rapidly. Some people do find it hard to cope because the change is unremitting and unavoidable.
You can get used to prison, as you can get used to any set of difficult circumstances. Human beings are incredibly adaptable. But it is always deeply abnormal. It is also not unusual for it to become less easy to cope with as time passes. I recall having terrible difficulty at the start of my second decade, leading me to try and kill myself through an extended hunger strike (43 days). These periods tend to afflict me every ten years or so. I seem to survive; some lifers don't.
Institutionalisation is largely a myth based on flawed experiments made on rats, exploring the concept of ‘learned helplessness'. I have little time for it. That isn't to say that the transition from prison to freedom is devoid of difficulty.
This isn't because we lose our abilities during the sentence but rather is a function of self-belief. Imprisonment is a perpetual exercise in being patronized, dis-empowered and de-skilled. If you persistently tell people that they are inadequate, some will begin to believe it. Those are the ones who worry about freedom, begin to believe that they cannot cope, and it a false concern.
I do find discussions around institutionalisation as interesting as they are frustrating. Everybody seems to mean something different by it, and if I try to pin them down on quite what, exactly, is meant to be difficult about daily life then the answers become evasive. Six billion people bumble through daily life okay, how hard can it be? What do you think I may have problems with?
People forget (or don't realise) that prisons are a little society and encompasses all the features of the wider world, if somewhat warped. There is a social structure, neighbour disputes, work, a complex economy… all we seem to lack is decent access to technology!
2. Also, what is the mood like? Do people try their best to get on with it, or is there a certain amount of gloom and resentment hanging around all of the time?
It's a truism that if you put more than two lifers in a room, there will be an outbreak of moaning. I think that's quite optimistic…
We do try to get on with it, trying to create and sustain an existence of sorts within which we can find some meaning. We also complain like hell about every aspect of our lives. It is more bitterness than gloom, and it lurks just beneath the surface.
As is common in all difficult situations, humour is a great defence against being overwhelmed. Prison humour is appalling, way beyond the pale of normal people and though I wish I could, I dare not share any of it with you! We make Frankie Boyle look like Norman Wisdom.
3. Are there any groups of people (such as chronic re-offenders) who the system is unable to deal with? If so, how would you protect the public from these people?
Depends what you mean by "deal with'. The system can physically contain and control any individual within its grasp. Whether it can 'deal' with making a positive difference is another issue.
The prison system can only do what society funds and mandates. There are those who are particularly difficult, in that present systems seem unable to change them for the better. This doesn't mean that other methods and systems wouldn't work, only that they are presently neglected due to political and social constraints.
There are those I have met, even some I live with now, who I would hesitate to release. But I refuse to accept that there are many of them who cannot change.
Prison is stuffed full of chronic re-offenders. But are they really socially dangerous, or are they more of a nuisance? They are often drug users, which highlights an old complaint that the prison system is asked to deal with sociomedical problems because no one else wants to deal with them. Free heroin would slash the crime rate.
Perhaps you refer to the likes of serial killers? This is a moot point, as none have ever been released yet. Can they be changed? No one knows, no one has tried. Only those who have never been caught, yet have stopped killing know the answer and they are keeping their mouths shut.
Or maybe you mean serial rapists or paedophiles? The prison service claims some success with its Sex Offender Treatment Programme. I think their research is shoddy and dishonest. That said, the re-offending rates for sex offenders is one of the lowest (murderers being lowest of all).
In a real sense I echo the view of John McVicar. Prison doesn't reform. It is up to the individual to decide to change. I suppose the best prison can ever do is create an environment conducive to that change and which supports it. Such a pity it never has.
4. What time is it?
As I write, it's 8:55 pm and we have just been locked up for the night. I'm settling down trying to listen to Jack Johnson and read a paper but the damn bell ringers in the church opposite are really going for it.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
I Want a Life of Luxury!
How can a man be in prison but not be being punished? Welcome to the wacky world of the life sentence. My punishment ended 20 years ago. The past couple of decades of imprisonment were not meant to be punitive in any way.
Life sentence are split into two parts. The first part is the 'tariff’ - the time to be served as punishment and retribution. In my case, ten years. According to the law, my debt is paid.
Since then, 'post-tariff’, detention has been based on what it is believed I might possibly do in the future. It is preventative detention, not punitive. Please understand that I'm not offering an opinion, or throwing this open to debate -I'm stating the factual legal structure of life sentences, like it or not.
So why shouldn't I have a TV, PlayStation, and hot-n-cold running women if I so desire? Why can I not have every amenity and luxury that I could afford, as long as it didn't undermine security?
Sometimes it may be necessary to detain people after their tariff because they obviously pose a grave public danger. With proper legal safeguards, that may squeeze through the acceptability barrier. Just.
But whilst we are being detained on such a basis, shouldn't the detainee be allowed all the amenities of a free man, save those that undermine security?
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Quirks
Although I insist that the research fails to reveal significant psychological damage from long-term imprisonment, this doesn't mean that we don't develop our little quirks.
Whilst we are often allowed to buy a duvet, I stick to prison sheets. Only sheets have an edge that is sharp, and as I fall asleep I run this edge between my toes. It keeps me happy...
Famously, I eschew drinking from cups or mugs. As I drink around three litres of tea or coffee a day, drinking out of a mug would see me forever hopping up and down to make more. Instead, I use a plastic one-litre water jug. As these are no longer issued to us, I guard my two and take them with me on transfers. Why two? One is for everyday use, and is never scrubbed clean. On the same theory that holds that teapots shouldn't have the tannin scrubbed out lest it affects flavour, so my jug long ago ceased to be transparent. It is brown-black, and looks disgusting. The other jug is a clean one, saved for use should royalty ever pop in for tea.
And I cannot sleep in silence. The TV or radio must be on in the background, preferably News 24 or the World Service, in order for me to get a decent night’s sleep.
As quirks go, these aren't too bad after thirty years, don't you think?
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Prison Healthcare
Not officially an oxymoron, but a conjunction of words guaranteed to make any prisoner raise an eyebrow. Healthcare provision in prisons has always been a point of contention.
The official stance accords with my own desire: that the healthcare provision should be broadly equivalent to that offered in the community. As with all things penological, however, the official version and the facts on the ground don't quite match.
Politically, this gap was recently revealed during the course of a legal challenge when the Ministry of Justice was forced to reveal that it had a secret policy. This was to the effect that, regardless of the medical opinion, elective procedures for prisoners had to pass a 'public acceptability' test. This is truly repugnant and that the MoJ kept this secret revealed that they must have understood the legal and moral unacceptability of such a criterion. Getting medical treatment on the basis of public popularity reveals the disgusting depths to which criminal justice policy has sunk.
Lofty legal, moral and political principles aside, what concerns most prisoners is the treatment they receive for their ailment from the NHS staff who now provide our healthcare. Three recent (and ongoing) events here highlight the level of that care.
Firstly, a prisoner is alleged to have been slapped round the head by a nurse. No big deal, you may think. But Healthcare is plastered with notices stating that NHS staff must not be abused or assaulted and such actions will be met with a stern response. So what would the reaction be if a lifer slapped a nurse? All the middle management who have been saying that “it was just a slap” would be at the front of the queue to have the con thrown into solitary and write long reports harping on as to his propensity for violence and unsuitability for release.
As it is, the attitude of the prison has been, 'it's nothing to do with us'. That we are in their care, that the place is wallpapered with policies about bullying and violence reduction, all means nought. It seems that NHS staff are perfectly able to enter a prison, assault any passing prisoner, and the prison staff won't raise an eyebrow. I'm assuming the same privilege doesn't apply in reverse?
Secondly, the man in severe and acute pain who was fobbed off with paracetamol for days. Until he suddenly had to be rushed out to hospital with what we now believe to be a life-threatening illness.
Thirdly, a man who is alleged to have over-used his painkillers to the tune of two - count 'em - two whole pills. He has been on these painkillers for 4 years but in the space of a week the Doctor has cut his dose by three-quarters. Seeing as his underlying medical condition hasn't changed, this raises an interesting question. Was he being massively over-prescribed these opiates for 4 years? Or is he suddenly being massively under-prescribed now? It's one or the other, and neither makes the medical staff look good.
There are countless stories that illustrate the reality of medical care in prisons. These are just three random stories from a single week, from one of the smallest nicks in the country.
The key to understanding these issues (failings) is the attitudes of the NHS staff. Simply put, they have been 'captured’ by the prison. Rather than importing a medical ethos into prison, they have been indoctrinated with the attitudes of prison staff. In their eyes we are not patients, we are prisoners first and foremost. By definition, we are said to be devious, manipulative and generally scheming bastards. If we present ourselves to Healthcare with a set of symptoms that outside would see the Doc reach for his prescription pad, here it is assumed that we are lying and get fobbed off with paracetamol.
Perhaps even worse is the fact that our treatment is dictated by the needs of prison management. As
is commonly known, prisons are full of drug abusers and we are regularly urine tested for drug
use. The NHS staff are quietly pressured by the prison to reduce the levels of prescribed drugs in
order to reduce positive tests. This would only be good practice, but for the fact that this leaves
people in serious pain from their illnesses.
This may go some way to explain why, even though the NHS has taken over our healthcare provision, prisoners are widely dissatisfied with the medical services. It also explains why, for many prisoners, their worst nightmare is to get a serious illness whilst in prison.
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