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GAZETTE

APRIL 1983

The Purpose of Prisons?

Address to the Annual Conference of the Association of Prison Officers,

Green Isle Hotel, 27th May, 1982 *

by

Mary McAleese, Lecturer in Criminology U.C.D.

I

T E A CH Criminology and Penology which is all

about crime control and criminals, without necessarily

ever meeting a criminal, a policeman, or a prison officer.

You deaf with criminals without necessarily ever reading a

book on Criminology or Penology. Indeed you may have

fairly cynical or sceptical views on the need for academic

criminologists or theorists at all.

T o some extent I could understand such antipathy for

when I began to review what criminologists and

penologists had to say about prison officers, I discovered

two things. The first is that despite the mountain of

Penological material examining the minutiae of the prison

system, very little academic attention has been paid to

what must be one of the most crucial areas of prison life —

the role of the prison officer. The second discovery I made

was that where academic penologists had decided to look

at the custodial officers, then what they had to say of them

was far from flattering. In an article published in 1945 by

Joseph Fishman which describes in lurid detail the life of a

prison officer the headline reads T h e Meanest job in the

World'. Gordon Hawkins, himself a former prison

governor, devotes a chapter of his book "The Prison" to his

former colleagues. He titles the chapter on prison officers

T h e other prisoners'. Donald Clemmer in his celebrated

account of The Prison Community claimed that prison

officers had three major preoccupations —none of which

had much to do with prisoners or penal theory. Their first

preoccupation was when do we eat —the second — when

do we quit and the third when do we get paid? How

accurately those preoccupations reflect the main areas of

interest of Irish prison officers today, you are better

qualified to judge than I am. But it is a fact that over the

past few years the Association of Prison Officers has been

more often in the public limelight because of disputes over

pay, overtime, rostering etc, than over idealogical

conflicts about the role of prison in contemporary society.

It does surprise me that at a time when prisons are in

crisis throughout the Western World, at a time when many

observers are demanding the development of alternatives

to imprisonment and the reduction of numbers being

sentenced to imprisonment on the grounds that it is an

expensive, demoralising and dehumanising failure which

compounds criminality rather than reducing it — why are

those people closest to the implementation of penal policy

so seemingly disinterested in the debate? Recently I met a

sociologist who was investigating labour relations m an

Irish semi-state body which regularly throws this country

into chaos in pursuit of wages claims, arguments over

demarcation and overtime. He patiently explained to me

that his research into the causes of this persistent industrial

unrest showed that the real issues were not about money at

all, but that there was a profound deeprooted

dissatisfaction with the job itself—public image of the job

was poor — the body they worked for was the butt of

regular jibes, their work lacked status, they were expected

to perform miracles with outmoded equipment etc., but

instead of investigating these areas of unease and unrest

and making them part of, if not central to their negotiations

with management, their resentment about these things

remained untapped, inarticulate and was translated into

wages and demarcation claims.

That conversation made me wonder just how much that

same kind of dissatisfaction was there within the prison

service itself and how could it be tapped to promote the

development of a better more coherent and more

successful prison system than we presently have. If I was a

prison officer who did have a developed sense of duty and

commitment to the job of caring for prisoners I think I

would feel that society was dealing me a less than fair

hand. There is a public stereotype of a prison officer as a

uniformed locker and unlocker of doors whose job it is to

inflict punishment on prisoners, to repress them, to bring it

home to them that they are bad and the rest of us are good.

The prison officer is chosen to do society's dirty work —

he's probably well enough paid for it in terms of money,

but in terms of status there is considerable public

ambivalence. The prison officer is expected to deal with

problems he was never trained to deal with and then he is

censured by the media for what is identified as his or the

system's failure to solve the problem. For example he or

rather the prison is expected to punish people and

rehabilitate them simultaneously. The P.O. is expected to

take an illiterate adult who has never held a steady job in

his life, who comes from an area where there is chronic

unemployment and teach him to read, equip him with

vocational skills, convince him of the error of his ways and

find him ajob, send him out into the world again a paragon

of virtue. He is usually expected to accomplish all this in

less than six months. He is given heroin addicts, drunks,

vagrants, prostitutes, beggars, psychopaths, sociopaths,

vandals, thugs, murderers, rapists and once they are safely

delivered into his hands, society breathes a sigh of relief

that the problem is now being taken care of and no one

thinks to ask, how well equipped is the prison or its

personnel to handle this particular problem.

Are their other and better ways of handling it. The

prison is there, it can't say no — this is not our problem —

we can't cope, it has no power of veto, no way of saying —

this person is not suitable to what we have to offer — we

are the wrong place. The hospitals can decide who they

will treat, the psychiatric hospitals can say, this patient

does not suit us, the special schools can say, this guy is too

disruptive we don't want him, so they all end up in the one

place which is obliged to keep open house — the prison!

Wh en crime rates soar and the public demand stiffer

sentencing in the unguided belief that the longer and

harsher the sentence the more it will deter the criminal, the

courts respond by increasing penalties, sending more

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