Previous Page  103 / 346 Next Page
Information
Show Menu
Previous Page 103 / 346 Next Page
Page Background

GAZETTE

APRIL 1983

local knowledge — their knowledge of previous offenders

whose pattern of crime is similar — so it is hardly

surprising that those more likely to get caught are those

who have been caught before.

Roots of criminality

Of those the police prosecute — only one third are sent

to prison — but once again we find that judges have a

tendency to go easy on first timers and to send back to

prison those who have been there before — so each time

the sieve is shaken the core of people staying inside it are

those who are more likely to be firmly committed to a

deviant career and who are unlikely to respond to

rehabilitation insofar as that is designed to profoundly

change their way of life. About 6 0% of those sent to prison •

have been there before. If we add two other factors to that

it becomes apparent that the judges who send people to jail

to change and reform them and public who expect them to

be better people as a result of incarceration have little

notion of the real root problems which provoke criminality

as we define it. Those two factors are, one that the majority

of these repeat offenders are sentenced to six months or

less which often means weeks rather than months in

prison. Two, they are by and large from the lowest social

stratum, the unemployed, unskilled, ill educated, the

disadvantaged. The opportunities which exist for them on

leaving prison are almost invariably the same as when they

entered it. They have little in the way of work experience,

many are illiterate or semi-literate. The kind of work they

are equipped for, semi-skilled or unskilled manual labour

is in short supply even for those with no criminal record

and in any event tends to be insecure and seasonal. Let us

assume that on release from prison they are confronted

with a set of options — to go straight or to rob and steal.

Going straight may mean living on the dole. It means no

new clothes, no weekend drinking in the pub with your

mates, no holidays by the sea, no motorbike, no car, no

new tapes or records, no discos, no participation in sports

or clubs, no hope, no future, no part of the good life. Why

should we expect him to be satisfied with that?

If we are realistic we can without too much difficulty see

the advantages and attractions of a life of crime —

relatively easy money, power, fun, excitement, access to

the good life and if his conscience does bug him he can

neutralise its effect by pointing out to us, the goodies, the

moral majority, a number of areas where our thinking is

less than straight. We preach equality and equal

opportunity, yet one million people are consigned to

poverty and it is from these that our prisoners are

predominantly drawn.

.

There are those who do nixers, who pretend to be sick so

they can stay home and do the garden, those who abuse

expense accounts, those who abuse office privileges like

stationery and telephones and postal privileges. We have

managed to subtely redefine certain activities so that they

are seen as official perks rather than dishonesty and we

have created a society where the moral bind is weakening

gradually but perceptibly, where the cult of greed and self

is eroding traditional beliefs and values. Those of us who

have jobs know only too well the access to 'legitimate

dishonesty that most workers have in some shape or form,

and the immunity we enjoy from prosecution, yet those

who have no jobs, who live in slumbs or suburban morgues

are expected to display a level of honesty and satisfaction

with their lot we forgot years ago.

My contention is therefore that in relation to those

committed to a life of petty larceny and burglary, the

causes of their recidivism are rooted firmly in society and

its structures and are only incidentally related to the prison

experience. If we are seriously committed to the idea of

rehabilitation and of reintegration of the offender into

society then the answer does not lie in building bigger and

better prisons with bigger and better workshops and

training facilities but in accepting that there are two things

prison can do and does do well. It does punish — the

deprivation of liberty, the isolation from family and

friends, the lack of control over one's life are all in

themselves dreadful punishments, even under the most

caring, humane and enlightened regime. The second thing

it does well is that it contains people, keeps them out of

trouble for whatever period, successfully. Any claims over

and above that are unrealistic, and it is about time we gave

up talking about them.

That does not mean to say that we should accept a harsh

and rigidly disciplined prison model undiluted by attempts

at education or worktraining provided we see the

rehabilitative role of the prison as only a tiny part of what

is required if this offender, this human being is to live in

the centre rather than on the fringes of our community,

then the confusion, resentment and frustration often felt by

prison officers to the whole notion of rehabilitation is

understandable. Prison officers have in the past in this

jurisdiction and in others, been accused of standing in the

way of prison reform. They wanted to hold fast to the good

old days of militaristic regimes whose sole concern was

control and containment and which did not suffer from

crises of identity or confusion about role and expectations.

All too often the transition to correctional and

rehabilitative models from the simple custodial model, has

been achieved in a hamfisted way in the course of which

prison officers have perceived their authority being

undermined, their influence dwindling and their territory

growing smaller as other personnel entered the prisoners

l i f e . . . the social workers, welfare officers, teachers.

Recruitment into the service too has changed radically

with more and more experienced personnel being

recruited whose main function is to train and educate

rather than to lock up. So we are seeing the development of

two strands of officer type. The changes the prison system

has undergone over the last decade in particular must have

had profound effects on you the officers who have been in

the front line of change. Some officers particularly those

who work in the 19th century institutions like Mountjoy

and St. Patrick's must realise that the bones of the work

they do has not altered radically since the 1850's. Others

have been able to participate more fully in a more

contemporary role, but overall no attempt has been made

to cope with and resolve this role conflict — indeed much

that has happened may have made it worse. It is time that

we focussed some attention on this area of the penal

system so that those who are the frontline implemented of

penal policy have a clear idea of their role and more

important have a decisive input into the development of

that policy.

I do not believe as Clemmer does or did, that prison

officers are men who by "dominance over a helpless group

are able to tackle their egos and obtain some satisfaction

through the power of their authority, who are imbued with

a spirit of retaliation towards inmates and who believe that

the essential purpose of imprisonment is incapacitation".

95