Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Canada Military News-Military Prisons/ First Peoples-Aboriginals and concept of justice/PRISON SYSTEMS- globally - from throwaway trash to rebuilding productive strong folks with dignity, self-respect and honour/#popefrancis wants us to forgive and embrace humanity peace and environment -Easter Week /links






Inside Canada's Military Prison aka Club Ed

http://www.torontosun.com/News/Canad...99260-sun.html

Inside Canada's military prison
Strict discipline, hard work and spartan quarters await handful of Canadian troops sentenced to time behind bars

By KATHLEEN HARRIS, NATIONAL BUREAU


Stripped of rank, rifle and pride, she has traded her crisp military uniform for an orange jail jumpsuit.

Armed now with a meticulously polished cleaning bucket, the disgraced soldier keeps shoulders straight and eyes trained firmly ahead as she marches by rote around the sterile compound.

Strict rules bar her from uttering any words except those requesting permission to pass by staff and superiors.

Here in Edmonton, at Canada's only military prison, every day begins early and each waking moment is crammed with marches, repetive drills and scrubbing chores.

Ultra-strict discipline is the code -- and even modest privileges must be earned. New arrivals aren't allowed to talk or smoke or display pictures of loved ones inside their stark cells. And if they step out of line, they could spend excruciatingly long days sitting or standing -- but never lying down -- in a barren solitary confinement cell stripped down to socks and underwear.

"This is the end of the spectrum, the last step in the disciplinary chain," says Maj. Ron Gribble, the commandant in charge of the prison.

Those sentenced to fewer than 14 days in custody usually do time at a detention unit on their home base.

Offenders come to the Canadian Forces Service Prison and Detention Barracks from bases across the country and from deployments abroad, serving longer stints for serious violations of military rules or criminal convictions.

On this day, there are only four offenders, including the first female in three years. Outnumbered by on-duty staff, the inmates are divided in institutional wings by gender and status of sentence; officers and privates are peers and subject to the same tough discipline and basic cell quarters.

"There is no rank," says Gribble. "Everyone here is an inmate. They are either a service detainee, a service prisoner or a service convict."

Detainees returning to the military are all paid the same private's basic rate, whatever their rank, while those turfed from service receive a meagre prisoner's allowance of $1 to $5 a day.

Wayward soldiers who have made a mistake are here for rehabilitation, a reality check and a second chance. Those convicted of serious crimes are kicked out of the military and transferred to a civilian Corrections Canada penitentiary after serving as much as two years at the CF jail.

In 2007, there were only 39 inmates admited to the CF prison, and only 24 the year before.

"It speaks well for the discipline of our men and women in uniform overall. But it's also indicative of the size of our force too. We don't have a huge force," he said. "When you think of the British army or the American forces, they have huge militaries, so of course they are going to have a lot more discipline issues and they have a lot larger facility with a lot more offenders."

Each day here begins with a wake-up at 6 a.m. and ends with a mandatory lights out at 9 p.m. The hours in between are packed with duties and drills required to earn marks that allow the inmate to advance to the next level or stage of their sentence.

Most offenders lose weight during their stay due to rigorous physical activity.

No privileges are granted at the first stage. When they eventually reach the next level -- an average of 18-19 days -- family visits are permitted but without physical contact like hugs or kisses.

Inmates can be penalized -- most often for idleness, laziness or "illicit communication" in the shower or during a scheduled smoke break. But only top officials can administer punishment; custodians can only "correct" behaviour.

The regime includes a series of careful inspections in the morning and throughout the day. The offender must strip his or her cell bare of bedding and clothes, folding them all neatly into a tight rectangular box stowed outside the door until the day's end.

The busy grind continues with a schedule of meticulous personal hygiene mixed with washing floors, shining brass pipes and belt buckles and performing manual grounds work. All the while, their every move is closely monitored by CF guards called "custodians" and cameras that watch every open spot and hidden corner except for washrooms and private cells.

Security is tight, too, with steel bars, iron-locked doors and shatter-proof windows.

Inside each drab cell is a small window, a steel toilet and slender bed topped with a thin cot-style mattress.

That's luxury compared to the confinement cell, a completely barren whitewalled room where inmates are sent for severe reprimand for as many as two days at a time, left alone with their thoughts. A bread-andwater diet remains on the books for those in segregation, though Gribble said the severe punishment has been in "abeyance" for some years.

Under the National Defence Act, rules and laws apply to all Canadians deployed with the CF, which means a civilian working on mission could wind up at the prison. There have been three CF members transferred from deployment in Afghanistan, but Gribble stressed it's uncommon and would not divulge what offences were committed to warrant the detention.

"It's not for showing up late for work, let's put it that way. You can't take people out of a theatre of operation without creating a hiatus. They have to backfill that individual because it's mission-critical," he said. "This is the extreme. The last thing we want to do is send a man or a woman here to go in to detention, because it is harsh. You are taking away their liberties and retraining them, so we don't want to do that lightly, especially in a theatre of operation."

Master Warrant Officer Robert Gagnon, the prison's chief disciplinarian, said a high percentage of inmates arrive with drug or alcohol problems that are often linked to their offences. They are forced through immediate detox, with counselling and a multi-faith centre on site to help them break bad habits.

Blind to race, gender and the type of crime committed, Gagnon's job is to get the bad soldiers all back in line. He does it by working on "individual minds," while treating them all the same.

"You have to put your personal feelings and biases on the side and do your job," he says. "I don't care who it is, male or female or what colour they are. My instinct is to make sure this person is released a better soldier, a better person."

Getting there isn't an easy road. Upon admission, every inmate must forfeit all personal belongings, including wallet, jewelry and cigarettes.

The only item permitted is a plain wedding band.

Brass have recommended changes to "modernize" the rules, including the ability to admit or release on a Sunday and to extend the day so lights out are at 10 p.m. There are also plans to practise more military skills for those returning to the Forces, and focus on vocational, job-finding and life skills for those not going back to the military after release.

"We're concerned about sending solid people back to the military but we also have a duty to Canada to send people back out that are going to be productive citizens," Gribble says. "Depending what they've done in the military, we don't want to send problems back out into Canadian society."

---

PRIVILEGES FOR INMATES OVER TIME SERVED

STAGE ONE

- no talking

- no cigarettes

- no visits

- no phone calls (except one 5-minute phone call to next of kin within 48 hours of admission)

- no TV

- no computer

- no personal eff ects in cell

STAGE TWO, Level 1

- talking allowed after meal and during smoke breaks

- three cigarettes a day

- no TV

- one 30-minute visit

- one 10-minute call per week

- 30 minutes of computer time daily to email family, visit military links and do educational or legal research

- two photos and one book permitted in cell

STAGE TWO, Level 2

- five cigarettes a day

- visits permitted

- two 10-minute phone calls or 1 20-minute call per week

- 60 minutes TV viewing

- 30 minutes+ computer time

STAGE TWO, Level 3

- as many as seven cigarettes per day

- visits permitted

- three 10-minute phone calls per week

- as much as 120 minutes TV viewing

- 30 minutes+ computer time
enduramil is offline  


------------------------

CANADA'S FIRST PEOPLES - ABORIGINALS AND CONCEPT OF JUSTICE


Chapter 2


View Chapter    



ABORIGINAL CONCEPTS OF JUSTICE
Introduction
Aboriginal People and the Role of the Elders
Aboriginal and Non-Aboriginal Peoples: Two Worldviews
The Meaning of Justice
Aboriginal Concepts of Law
Aboriginal Culture
Cultural Imperatives

Ethic of Non-interference
The Rule of Non-Competitiveness
Emotional Restraint
Sharing
Conflicts Arising from Aboriginal Cultural Imperatives
Other Rules of Behaviour
Cultural Imperatives and Systemic Discrimination
Language Issues

Understanding Words
Understanding Legal Concepts
New Concepts—Old Words
Conclusion


Aboriginal Concepts of Justice TOP
Introduction TOP
When the white man first seen us, when they first said, “Well, there’s something wrong with these people here. They don’t have no religion. They have no judicial system. We have to do something for these people.” I guess that must have been what they thought because they totally screwed up what we already had.
They introduced new religion and there was nothing wrong with our old religion. They just didn’t understand it. We had our own ways of teaching our children, like the Elders and everything. There was nothing wrong with that way of teaching children. They just didn’t understand it.
The same thing with our judicial system. We had that judicial system and the white people, when they came here, they didn’t see that. They said, “These guys have nothing. We have to introduce all these different things to them so they can be one of us.” That’s exactly the problem that we have.
Chief Philip Michel
Brochet
Aboriginal peoples have always had governments, laws and some means of resolving disputes within their communities. North American Aboriginal societies were dynamic cultures that adapted constantly to meet changing circumstances. Aboriginal people were influenced by their relations with one another in migrations, warfare, conquest, and in commercial and/or political unions.
They had vast, complicated, intertribal trading systems that covered the continent. They developed sophisticated external relationships between and among tribes that cemented these commercial and political relations. Later, with the coming of Europeans, they extended similar trade and diplomatic relations to various countries in Europe.
Aboriginal peoples have persisted for thousands of years as distinct cultural entities. They never have been conquered in war. They were allies. They have never surrendered their original right to govern themselves in accordance with their customs and cultures. Although successive federal governments have tried to interfere with or diminish that right, and to replace it with their concepts of "Aboriginal" government, they have done so without much success.
More importantly, successive federal governments and religious organizations in Canada have tried to interfere with, and even destroy, the cultures of Aboriginal people and to supplant them with European cultures and values, again without much success. At best, this amounts to discrimination. At worst, it is cultural genocide.
The daily, systemic cultural discrimination inflicted upon Aboriginal people by the justice system, however unintentional, demeans and diminishes the importance and relevance of their cultures, languages and beliefs. At the very least, as one Aboriginal language interpreter told our Inquiry, Aboriginal people have a right to understand what is happening to them.
I was appalled to learn that a man had been hired [as an interpreter] who does not speak any native Aboriginal language at all and it still exists. And again, I ask these questions; how has this man been able to interpret for an Aboriginal person who cannot speak or understand English? How many Aboriginal people have been denied the right to defend themselves because this man is not capable of understanding and interpreting their testimony? How many Aboriginal people have been convicted because this man was unable to translate a Crown attorney’s questions accurately so that they understand what they were being asked; therefore, unknowingly, and perhaps falsely, incriminating themselves? And how many Aboriginal people have pleaded guilty out the sheer futility of what seems to be a hopeless situation?
Barbara Whitford
Portage la Prairie
"What is certain for Aboriginal people," that same person added, is that what "they have managed to retain to a considerable degree, in all this turmoil, is their distinct identity." In fact, despite attempts to eradicate Aboriginal cultures, cultural distinctiveness remains a hallmark of Aboriginal life.
In this chapter, we discuss Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal concepts of justice, in brief. We discuss how they are similar and how they are different. We try to explain how they work and how their purposes and processes differ. TOP

Aboriginal People and the Role of the Elders TOP
To understand an Aboriginal community, one must appreciate first the role that the elders play within it. The prominent position accorded to elders is a striking feature of Aboriginal societies. They have been largely responsible for retaining much of the knowledge of Aboriginal cultural traditions about which we heard so much in the course of our hearings.
Elders—both men and women—are the "teachers" and, in some cases, are the "healers"—that is, the "medicine people"—of the tribe. The role of elders within Aboriginal communities sometimes varied, but generally consisted of helping the people, individually and collectively, to gain knowledge of the history, traditions, customs, values and beliefs of the tribe, and to assist them to maintain their well-being and good health. They were respected for their wisdom and for their experience, and for the fact that, having lived a long life, they were able to advise the people on what to do in difficult situations, as a result of that experience. In some tribal authorities today, councils of elders exist, with the right to advise tribal officials and tribal governments on various matters of interest to the tribe.
Elders have long been considered the ones who bridge between the ancient traditions and beliefs of the people and the modern-day influences that come into play in the day-to-day lives of Aboriginal men and women. This was so even in past times when there were only Aboriginal people on this continent.
"Medicine men" and "medicine women" were not necessarily elders in the sense that they were not necessarily people who had lived a long life. They were people who had been traditionally trained from their youth in the natural medicines and plants of the forests and fields, including training in their benefits and how they were to be used to heal the body’s ailments. In addition, they also received training in the treatment of the person’s spiritual and mental needs.
Although the role of elders and healers came under strong attack as a result of government policy, elders still have a place of prominence within Aboriginal communities and there still are people within Aboriginal communities with knowledge and training in the traditions of Aboriginal healing. The role of both elders and healers within Aboriginal societies is still very important and many Aboriginal people still go to them for advice, assistance and treatment, sometimes even in conjunction with treatment they may be receiving from medically trained professionals.
That is because, in almost all Aboriginal belief systems, each person has three aspects which make up his or her whole being. Those are the body, the mind and the spirit. It is said that for Aboriginal people to heal from whatever ails them, all aspects of their being need to be treated—not just one. In that respect, the Aboriginal belief is in the holistic treatment of the person. Aboriginal healers, when called upon to minister to a sick person, do not only administer medicines to the body, but also conduct spiritual ceremonies for the spirit and counsel the person to help clear his or her mind of the effects of the sickness.
In Aboriginal beliefs, if only the body is treated, then healing cannot take place properly. If the body becomes ill, then the spirit and mind also are affected. In the same way, it is believed that before the body becomes sick, there are often signs of the impending sickness apparent in the mental or spiritual status of the person. Preventive steps thus can be taken by addressing the person’s spiritual needs early on. Keeping the spirit strong was seen as practising preventive medicine. Elders, and people who know of traditional ways of healing, are considered very important and are respected highly by Aboriginal people.
Some Aboriginal elders believe that Aboriginal people who are ill must have all three aspects healed fully in the Aboriginal way. Some have said that if an Aboriginal person goes to a non-Aboriginal doctor, then that person cannot be healed properly in the traditional way, since traditional healing methods and modern medicine do not mix. Others believe that if medical doctors are treating the person’s body, then traditional Aboriginal healers can and must attend to the treatment of the person’s mind and spirit. In the same way, if the person is receiving psychiatric treatment from a psychiatrist, then his or her physical and spiritual needs still can be met through traditional healing methods. In this way, elders believe that there is always room for traditional methods of healing to take place.
In the case of Aboriginal inmates, elders believe that healing is required for them, even though there may not be any direct, harmful physical effects from incarceration, because they believe that there are harmful effects upon an individual’s mind and spirit from being locked up.
Many Aboriginal people believe that as well, particularly some of the Aboriginal inmates from whom we heard. Some institutional officials are just beginning to recognize the potential importance that Aboriginal elders and healers can have within their institutions.
It is apparent that Aboriginal elders will continue to play a very important role in the future of Aboriginal societies. Understanding the role which they play is important to appreciate why events evolve as they do within Aboriginal communities, because the elders wield great influence. TOP

Aboriginal and Non-Aboriginal Peoples: Two Worldviews TOP
Aboriginal peoples do not adhere to a single life philosophy, religious belief or moral code. Indeed, there are and have been considerable differences among tribes. The Aboriginal peoples of North America, for the most part, hold fundamental life philosophies different from those of the dominant European-Canadian society. These differences in worldviews between European-Canadians and Aboriginal people are broad enough and general enough to make most European-Canadian institutions incompatible with the moral and ethical value systems of Aboriginal Canadians.
At a fundamental cultural level, the difference between Aboriginal and Western traditions is a difference in the perception of one’s relationship with the universe and the Creator. For instance, in the Judeo-Christian tradition:
[Mankind was told to] fill the earth and subdue it, rule over the fish in the sea, the birds of heaven, and every living thing that moves upon the earth.1
In contrast, Ojibway thought believes that man does not hold "dominion" over the earth and all its creatures. In fact, man is the least important entity in creation.
Creation came about from the union of the Maker and the Physical World. Out of this union came the natural children, the Plants, nurtured from the Physical World, Earth, their Mother. To follow were Animalkind, the two-legged, the four-legged, the winged, those who swim and those who crawl, all dependent on the Plant World and Mother Earth for succour. Finally, last in the order came Humankind, the most dependent and least necessary of all the orders.2
The differences between these two worldviews account, in large part, for the differences in the philosophy, purposes and practices of legal and justice systems. Each worldview is the basis for the customs, manners and behaviour that are considered culturally appropriate. One’s individual or cultural understanding of humanity’s place in creation, and the appropriate behaviour that understanding dictates, pervade and shape all aspects of life.
Psychological and anthropological profiles of Ojibway, Dakota, Apache, Navajo and Cheyenne subjects have identified recurring personality characteristics which seem to be culturally induced and which are so universal that they could be equated with "primary Native values."3
The seven traditional values of the Ojibway, or Anishnabe, are wisdom, love, respect, bravery, honesty, humility and truth.4 A study of the psychological and behavioural patterns of the Sioux identifies several central values for the Dakota people: conformity with the group and harmony within it; concentration on the present; ability to make personal decisions; reluctance to show emotions; reverence for nature even while using it; and constant awareness of God.5 The four great virtues of the Oglala Dakota, taught in the Sundance, are bravery, generosity, fortitude and integrity.6 Apache beliefs and values can be stated as: respect for the autonomy of the individual; non-interference; desire for harmony in interpersonal relations; respect for individual freedom; and cooperation and sharing.7
The basic values of Cheyenne culture are: respect for the spirit world; desire for harmony and well-being in interpersonal relationships; desire for harmony and balance with nature; bravery and mastery of self; generosity, sharing and cooperation; individual freedom and autonomy consistent with cooperation and collective well-being; and humility and respect in all relationships.8
None of these values would be found inadequate or inappropriate by the dominant Canadian society; the same or similar values exist within most of the world’s cultural traditions. However, European-Canadian society has developed conventions which allow some traditional ethical and moral values to be separated, at least temporarily, from everyday life. Aboriginal North Americans tend not to do so.
An obvious example is the ease with which a member of the dominant society can plead not guilty to a charge for which that person, in fact, is responsible. In the Western tradition, the plea is not seen as dishonest; it is understood as a conventional response to an accusation, based on the doctrine that people are not required to incriminate themselves and that it is up to the prosecution to prove guilt. In Aboriginal societies, to deny a true allegation is seen as dishonest, and such a denial is a repudiation of fundamental and highly valued standards of behaviour. As well, the European concept of "guilty/not guilty" runs counter to most Aboriginal philosophy, so much so that Aboriginal societies have no words for "guilty" or "not guilty" in their languages because they have not developed these concepts. TOP

The Meaning of Justice TOP
At the most basic level of understanding, justice is understood differently by Aboriginal people. The dominant society tries to control actions it considers potentially or actually harmful to society as a whole, to individuals or to the wrongdoers themselves by interdiction, enforcement or apprehension, in order to prevent or punish harmful or deviant behaviour. The emphasis is on the punishment of the deviant as a means of making that person conform, or as a means of protecting other members of society.
The purpose of a justice system in an Aboriginal society is to restore the peace and equilibrium within the community, and to reconcile the accused with his or her own conscience and with the individual or family who has been wronged. This is a primary difference. It is a difference that significantly challenges the appropriateness of the present legal and justice system for Aboriginal people in the resolution of conflict, the reconciliation and the maintenance of community harmony and good order.9 TOP

Aboriginal Concepts of Law TOP
There were and are Aboriginal laws. There were and continue to be Aboriginal governments with lawmaking powers and with provisions to enforce those laws. There were and are Aboriginal constitutions that are the supreme "law of laws" for some Aboriginal peoples and their nations.
Examples of such indigenous governments and their laws exist around the world. In the United States, tribal governments have long been recognized by U.S. courts as "domestic, dependent nations" with the inherent power to enact such laws as they deem necessary. We have described how these laws are interpreted and enforced in our chapter on Aboriginal justice systems.
No society can exist without law. Laws grow from the customs, traditions and rules of a society of people. They exist to inform people what that particular society considers to be acceptable and unacceptable.
Many non-Aboriginal writers in the past have regarded Aboriginal societies through the stereotypes and cultural biases they held at that particular time, or that they accepted as "true" from the time of the original account. These histories, for the most part, still comprise most of the history courses taught in Canadian schools, from elementary school to university. One such writer was Diamond Jenness, whose books were and still are referred to widely in many schools and universities as authoritative accounts of Aboriginal societies.
In the absence of chiefs and of any legislative or executive body within the tribes and bands, law and order depended solely on the strength of public opinion. There were no written laws, of course; merely rules and injunctions handed down by word of mouth from an immemorial antiquity, and more temporary taboos operative during the lifetime of an individual. Persuasion and physical force were the only methods of arbitrating disputes, social outlawry or physical violence the only means of punishing infractions of the moral code or offences against the welfare of the band or tribe....
Fear of the blood-feud was a powerful restraint on murder, and social disapproval, more keenly felt in small communities than in large, checked the commission of many lesser crimes. Strangers, however, even people of a neighbouring tribe, might be robbed or killed with impunity; they had no rights, unless they married into a band or placed themselves under the protection of some powerful family.10
Such attitudes about Aboriginal people and the stereotypes they promote continue to persist, regardless of how much one might hope they would be out of favour or distasteful in today’s society. But they seem embedded firmly in Western culture. They spring from centuries-old theories, philosophies and policies that form a worldview through which Western man has perceived and interpreted other cultures.
Recently, however, more and more historians are seeking to divest historical accounts of past stereotyping and cultural bias in order to present a more realistic, more accurate and, perhaps, more fair version of history. This more recent account of Aboriginal society in Canada describes almost the same situation as does the previous author, but from a more neutral viewpoint:
Europeans’ pronouncements that Indians had no government were contradicted by their practice of dealing with Indian chiefs through the protocol of diplomacy with sovereign states. The bulk of evidence about Indian communities implies structures of political association irreconcilable with assumptions of anarchy. From anthropology comes the root conception of “kinship state”, a community of families and clans in which some of the ordering functions of society are performed by the kin groups individually while others are assigned to officers and councillors chosen cooperatively.
In this structure, as European observers were quick to notice, there was no law in the European sense, and no specialized apparatus of law enforcement. Binding decisions were made by legitimate officers, however, and before the intervention of Europeans eroded the chiefs’ authority there were forceful sanctions for both occasional decisions and enduring customs. In a community where every man bore arms no need existed for a corps of specialized police; any man could be appointed to act guard or do executioner’s duty. Early seventeenth-century observers reported that the paramount chiefs of the tribes sometimes inflicted corporal punishment upon criminals with their own hands. Families also bore responsibility for protecting kinsfolk, and the accompanying threat of vengeance sanctioned by custom proved an effective deterrent to potential wrongdoers. Such sanctions in their social context were more effectual than European procedures of criminal justice; Adriaen Van der Donck wonderingly noticed “how uncommon” crimes were among the Hudson River Indians. “With us,” he continued, “a watchful police is supported, and crimes are more frequent than among them.” Not recognizing the sanctioning functions performed by means that he had himself described, he was baffled to understand how there could be so little crime “where there is no regard paid to the administration of justice.” A lawyer himself, Van der Donck could recognize due process only when it appeared in the forms to which he had been trained. That fault was shared by other Europeans contemporary with himself and in following generations.11
Regardless of whether the laws of Aboriginal societies conformed to the preconceptions of Europeans, there were laws and a system of sanctions that allowed Aboriginal people to function in a coherent and orderly fashion. Aboriginal people could hardly be characterized, as Jenness implied, as living in anarchy or having a system of "social outlawry."
Indian tribes were internally more peaceful than European nations partly because of the kin-oriented sanctions pervading Indian villages, as distinct from the greater impersonality of European social relationships, and partly because Indian custom defined and punished fewer crimes than European law....
The same customary sanctions were notably tolerant of many sorts of behaviour that Europeans classed as crime, especially regarding deviant sexual and religious conduct. There was no crime of fornication or “unnatural vice” among Indians, nor was there any heresy as that was defined by European law. All sex relations except rare cases of rape were personal matters outside the jurisdiction of sachem and council, and religious belief was totally personal.... Indians knew nothing of the whole class of offences called by European lawyers “crimes without victims”. When one considers the floggings, jailings, hangings, torture and burnings inflicted by European states for the multitude of crimes that did not even exist in Indian society, one becomes painfully aware that an incalculably great proportion of European violence against persons was inflicted by the very agencies whose ostensible function was to reduce violence.12
This does not imply that Aboriginal societies were free of crime or criminal activity. There were laws against certain types of behaviour and, inevitably, as with all laws, they would be broken. However, the types of behaviours that were considered objectionable or aberrant might have been different from those identified by European societies. The manner in which Aboriginal people imposed sanctions was different too. This was to be expected, after all, since they sprang from a whole different world which had evolved entirely different societies from those in Europe.
Social control rested in kinship. Among native cultures the means of control was in the close contacts of their members. The sanctions of ridicule, avoidance and shame were effective means to check those deviants who fell into behavioural lapses. Internal, unofficial communication was the process.13
These types of sanctions suited most misbehaviours within a small, tightly knit group of people who often were family members. However, some crimes required more serious sanctions than mere scolding or ridicule. As in European societies, some crimes required the complete removal of the criminal from society. In most Aboriginal societies, this meant banishment. In such close, family-oriented societies, where survival depended upon communal cooperation, such sanctions were considered a humane alternative to death, no matter how traumatic they may have been to the offender.
However, there were other behaviours that Aboriginal societies recognized as crimes. Again, the reasons why Aboriginal people considered such behaviour criminal differed from the reasons perceived by European societies. So did the manner in which Aboriginal people sought to resolve such disruptions to their societies. These differences were frequently looked upon with a certain amount of disdain by Europeans who often interpreted the actions of Aboriginal people through their own cultural values and biases.
The French were frequently critical of the Huron for the lenient attitude they took towards thieves. The simplicity and relative impermanence of Huron possessions, and the sharing of goods and housing among extended families, probably made ownership intrinsically a matter of less concern to them than it was to Europeans (Herman 1956; Stites 1905). More importantly, however, because of the semi-public nature of Huron dwellings and the lack of any formal policing in their villages, there was little that could be done to protect movable possessions against theft. The main concern of the Huron was therefore to minimize the disruptive consequences of quarrels that might arise from such actions.
This was done by defining theft very narrowly, as the taking of goods forcibly from an individual or from inside a longhouse without permission. In theory, a person was entitled to carry off anything he found lying about unattended. In order to protect their valuables, both from fire and thieves, the Huron either carried them around with them or hid them in caches dug into the soil beneath their houses. The Huron did not fine or penalize a thief, nor did they permit a man from whom goods had been stolen to reclaim them without first inquiring how someone else had come to possess them. A refusal to answer constituted an admission of guilt. If a man could prove who had robbed him, he and his relatives were socially sanctioned to go to the thief’s longhouse and carry off everything on which they could lay their hands. Hence, relatives of a person who had stolen very little might find themselves bruised and despoiled. Again, pressure was put on kin groups to enforce good behaviour among their members.14
Treason and the practice of witchcraft, or the use of "bad medicine" in order to inflict injury upon another, also were treated as serious crimes. Treason was seen as the betrayal of the family group, or clan, and as such almost always required the death penalty. Witchcraft was a much more difficult activity to prove and it was handled in a more delicate manner. The person using witchcraft might have to pay some form of compensation. If, however, the person refused to compensate the complainant, the offender might face a death penalty. But these were extreme situations.
There was one other serious category of crime. The manner in which it was handled within Aboriginal societies shows the philosophy underlying the way in which Aboriginal people viewed law and justice.
In theory, murder placed an absolute obligation upon the kinsmen of the dead man to seek revenge by clamouring for the slaying of either the murderer or someone closely related to him. The obligation fell particularly upon the clansmen of the murdered person, that is, upon his sisters, mother’s brothers, and sisters’ sons.... Depending on the degree of relationship between the murderer and the murdered man, a killing might give rise to a prolonged blood feud between the clan segments, villages, tribes, or even confederacies to which they belonged. Thus blood feuds varied in scale from family quarrels to major wars. The Huron were well aware that no tribal organization and no confederacy could survive if internal blood feuds went unchecked. One of the basic functions of the confederacy was to eliminate such feuds among its members; indeed, between Huron, they were regarded as a more reprehensible crime than murder itself.15
Instead of bloody and disruptive feuds within the society, Aboriginal people settled upon a system of atonement and reparation by the offender to the victim. The payment would be borne by all members of the offender’s clan or family and it would be shared by all members of the victim’s clan or family. Only if such payment were refused did the clan have the right to resort to violence or arms.
The amount of the compensation could vary. The compensation for a crime against a chief or an elder, for example, was greater than that paid to a person of lower rank. The compensation for a crime against a woman was greater than that against a man. Since the penalty would be paid by the offender’s clan as a whole, and not merely by the individual offender, repeat offenders could expect to receive less and less support from their clan for their crimes. In this way, the clan or family, through peer pressure, would regulate behaviour within itself and exert influence throughout the society.
By making criminal activity a collective responsibility of a tribe, village or a clan, Aboriginal people were able to impose law and order without resorting to capital punishment or other harsh forms of sanctions. The philosophy in Aboriginal society was for all parties to acknowledge the crime, allow for some process of atonement, and install a system of reparation or compensation in order to restore harmony to the community.
But even more to the point, Europeans and Aboriginal people viewed the same crime of murder in different ways. The two groups perceived the other’s system of justice as inconsistent, incoherent and incomprehensible.
Of crimes common to both societies, murder requires special notice. It was conceived of differently by Indian and European and was therefore punished by different processes. In Europe murder was an offence against the state; among Indians it was an offence against the family of the victim. European law demanded the murderer’s life as atonement to the state; Indian custom made his life forfeit to his victim’s family. In Europe, the state apprehended the murderer; among Indians it was the family’s obligation to do so. European observers tagged the Indian custom “revenge” and blathered much about the savagery revealed by it. Yet, as compared to the state’s relentlessness, the tribe provided an institution carefully and precisely designed to stanch the flow of blood. The obligation of blood for blood could be commuted into a payment of valuable goods by the murderer’s own kin-folk to the relatives of his victim. This custom (which had been known centuries earlier in Anglo-Saxon England as wergild) was a widespread stabilizer of Indian societies, forestalling the development of obligatory revenge into exterminating feuds. Although the term feud has been used freely by the condemners of savage society, Marian W. Smith has been unable to find the phenomena properly denoted by it. “True feud,” she remarks, “in its threat of continued violence between particular groups, is surprisingly rare in the New World.”
Europeans understood the wergild custom and used it themselves in their dealings with Indians, but only unilaterally. Europeans would pay blood money to avert Indian revenge for the killing of an Indian, but Indians were not permitted to buy absolution for the killing of a European. In the latter case the Europeans demanded the person of the accused Indian for trial in a European court. In the event of nonapprehension of the suspected culprit, mass retribution might be visited upon his village or tribe. The savagery of revenge, therefore, was simply a semantic function of its identification with an Indian; European revenge was civilized justice.16
The underlying philosophy in Aboriginal societies in dealing with crime was the resolution of disputes, the healing of wounds and the restoration of social harmony. It might mean an expression of regret for the injury done by the offender or by members of the offender’s clan. It might mean the presentation of gifts or payment of some kind. It might even mean the forfeiture of the offender’s life. But the matter was considered finished once the offence was recognized and dealt with by both the offender and the offended. Atonement and the restoration of harmony were the goals—not punishment.
It is this strong, even central, cultural imperative to prevent or deter violent acts of revenge or retribution that runs through all these accounts. Aboriginal societies felt it important that offenders atone for their acts to the aggrieved person and the victim’s family or clan. European society demanded the state punish the offender. In the Aboriginal justice system, once the atonement had been made and the offence recognized, the matter was forgotten and harmony within the community was considered restored. In the European justice system, the offender "pays his debt" to society, usually by going to jail. Rarely is there atonement to the person or persons injured. There is little restoration of harmony within the community.
This form of Aboriginal justice exists, to some extent, in Aboriginal communities to this day. Here is an example of one person’s experience:
In March 1987 the city of Whitehorse hosted The Third Annual Northern Conference. It was convened to examine the delivery and impact of justice services in remote Indian and Inuit communities.É One of the sessions explored mediation techniques to see if they might be more appropriate than our adversarial courts. Three participants were selected to form a panel to mediate a fictitious dispute between a young lad and the owner of a store which had been broken into. One of the panel members was Charlie Fisher, an Elder from the Islington Reserve at Whitedog, and Ontario’s first Native Justice of the Peace.É
He began by getting rid of the chairs, then the long table which had separated the three panelists from the disputants. Everyone sat in a circle, as equals. He then required two further participants to act as Elders “representing” the two disputants. As he continued, it became clear that it was not only the physical format or cast of participants which differed, but also its process and its very function.
The boy and the store owner never spoke, not even to the panel. There was no discussion whatever about the break-in itself, about the theft and damage, about how each party felt about the other, or about what each might do to set matters straight. Further, the panel would not impose restitution, punishment or any consequence at all. They would not even discuss the issue of consequences.
Once those in attendance understood what was NOT going to take place, there was only one question left: “why, then, is there a panel at all?”
Charlie Fisher then defined the purpose of that traditional forum. It was used to rid themselves of what he called “bad feelings”. Each would be “counselled” by his representative Elder, privately, until his spirit was “cleansed” and made whole again. At convocations of the panel the representing Elder could signify that such “cleansing” had been achieved by touching the peace pipe. The panel would convene as often as necessary until both Elders so signified. At that point, the peace pipe could be lit and passed to all. As far as the community was concerned, that would be the end of the matter. Whether the two disputants privately arranged recompense of some sort was entirely up to them. Both had been “restored to the community and to themselves” the moment the pipe was passed.17
The author, Rupert Ross, is a Crown attorney in northern Ontario. He describes the non-Aboriginal participants as "perplexed" by the demonstration they had just witnessed. There was no "fact-finding," no allocation of blame or responsibility and "no discussion (much less imposition) of consequences." Perhaps, his group surmised, there was little need to do so in such small, tightly knit Aboriginal communities where public opinion carried so much weight. Or maybe a system that doesn’t rely on punishment also doesn’t need "fact-finding" to ensure an innocent person is not punished by mistake.
In the end, the author concluded that "such explanations are superficial in the extreme." The real answer may lie deep within the "basic ethics" of the traditional culture itself. TOP

Aboriginal Culture TOP
In trying to describe Aboriginal cultures to non-Aboriginal Canadians, it is important to recognize the difficulty of such a task. Imagine trying to describe Canadian culture to a non-Canadian. Canadian society is not homogeneous; there are many peoples, many cultures and languages, and many regions. Similarly, Aboriginal people are many peoples, cultures and languages in many regions.
Furthermore, any attempt at description will tend to be an over-simplification and will carry the risk of a certain amount of stereotyping. Once that is understood, it is important to realize how culture can influence one’s cultural characteristic, cultural "ethic" or "rule of behaviour." A cultural "ethic" or "rule of behaviour" may be described as a behavioural characteristic or quality that is so ingrained, so prevalent, within an identifiable or specific group of people as to become almost a trait. Again, we warn about the risk of stereotyping.
Aboriginal people, it is important to stress, are not all the same. For instance, the Cree in northern Quebec have a completely different language, culture and society than the Mohawk only a few hundred miles away in southern Quebec. The Cree are patriarchal, which means they trace their lineage, families and clans through the male parent. The Mohawk, on the other hand, are matriarchal and determine their heritage through the female parent. The Cree are a hunting, trapping and fishing society. The Mohawk are an agricultural people. Although both peoples live in the province of Quebec, they are, perhaps, as different from one another in language, culture and social characteristics as the Spanish are from the Norwegians in Europe.
In Manitoba, similar cultural differences exist between the Ojibway and the Chipewyan and between the Dakota and the Metis, and even within a tribe of people, such as the Cree. For example, there are subtle differences in social characteristics between the Swampy Cree of northwestern Manitoba and the plains Cree in Saskatchewan.
Yet, it may be argued, all these peoples share certain characteristics, as well. These similar characteristics are examples of Aboriginal ethics or rules of behaviour. Aboriginal ethics and rules of behaviour are "present in some form in all tribes of North America," according to Dr. Clare Brant, a Mohawk psychiatrist who has studied and written in this area.18
According to Dr. Brant, Aboriginal ethics become most pronounced when contrasted to the behaviours considered "normal" by most Canadians. These behaviours are sometimes explained by non-Aboriginal Canadians in terms of popular stereotypes about Aboriginal people, or worse. From his own profession, he gives this example:
Many general psychiatrists see Native children and adolescents in assessments, and often find them passive, difficult to assess, and not forthcoming. This behaviour, which affects the individual Native child’s attitude and performance in an assessment situation, is understandable in view of the child’s cultural background. The psychiatrist may, at times, misinterpret the behaviour as resistance, passive-aggression, opposition, depression, or withdrawal. The general psychiatrist’s failure to recognize the derivatives of the individual child’s cultural heritage as they affect his behaviour in a clinical situation may result in unperceived errors in diagnosis, in formulation, and in treatment. For example, overuse of antidepressants and the all too frequent diagnosis of personality disorders may occur. This may turn what is intended to be a helpful encounter into one that is not useful or even traumatic for the patient. Such encounters will no doubt also be frustrating for the clinician.19
Dr. Brant’s description of the misunderstandings between doctor and Aboriginal patient is similar to the cultural miscues our Inquiry has heard about for Aboriginal people in the justice system. They often result from a lack of knowledge about Aboriginal people and their cultures. Such misunderstandings can be just as disastrous for an Aboriginal person in the justice system as in the medical system.
When [Aboriginal people] refuse to follow the exhortations of our rules, we judge them as deficient in rule-obedience or, worse still, rule-less. In our ignorance, we have failed to admit the possibility that there might be rules other than ours to which they regularly display allegiance, an allegiance all the more striking because it is exercised in defiance of our insistent pressures to the contrary.20 TOP
Cultural Imperatives TOP
A cultural imperative, or rule of behaviour, is a cultural value that dictates the actions and reactions of Aboriginal people to given situations. For instance, in general, Aboriginal people are non-confrontational. Aboriginal people usually will seek to resolve disputes or to make their opinions known to others in ways that avoid direct confrontation. Confrontation violates one of several Aboriginal cultural rules of behaviour that deem the preservation of harmony paramount, rather than personal satisfaction or gain.
While such cultural differences between Aboriginal people and non-Aboriginal people have been noticed and remarked upon by various non-Aboriginal writers for hundreds of years, few people have tried to explore and explain these differences in terms understandable to the general population. Instead, these differences have been explained away in terms of handy stereotypes and vague generalizations, to the detriment of real understanding. The justice system has been no less insensitive and ignorant of these differences than other sectors of society.
Although there is an awakening to the fact that the over-representation of Native people in the jails of Canada may result from cultural conflicts between the Canadian legal system and the Native people, there is still a lack of acceptance by the legal system of the conceptual conflicts faced by Aboriginal people coming before the courts.21
According to Brant, there are at least 10 distinct Aboriginal cultural ethics or rules of behaviour, and perhaps there are even more. He categorizes them under three main headings. Brant calls the first category of Aboriginal behaviours "conflict suppression." The second he calls "projection of conflict" and the third is "humiliating superego."
The individual and group survival of this continent’s Aboriginal Plains, Bush and Woodlands people required harmonious interpersonal relationships and cooperation among members of a group. It was not possible for an individual to survive alone in the harsh natural environment but in order to survive as a group, individuals, living cheek by jowl throughout their lives, had to be continuously cooperative and friendly.22
Brant believes there are four major ethics or rules of behaviour and four lesser ones in the broad category of "conflict suppression" that continue to influence the lives of Aboriginal people today. He says they grew out of the need of extended families, clans, villages or tribes to maintain harmony and ensure survival of the group. TOP

Ethic of Non-Interference TOP
One of the most important is the ethic of non-interference. It "promotes positive interpersonal relationships by discouraging coercion of any kind, be it physical, verbal or psychological." It stems from a high degree of respect for every individual’s independence and regards interference or restriction of a person’s personal freedom as "undesirable behaviour."23
The ethic of non-interference is one of the most widely accepted principles of behaviour among Native people. It even extends to adult relationships with children and manifests itself as permissiveness. A Native child may be allowed at the age of six, for example, to make the decision on whether or not he goes to school even though he is required to do so by law. The child may be allowed to decide whether or not he will do his homework, have his assignments done on time, and even visit the dentist. Native parents will be reluctant to force the child into doing anything he does not choose to do.24
This ethic is one of the most difficult for non-Aboriginal people to understand because it often conflicts with their conceptions of "accepted" practice. In European-Canadian society, for instance, children are told what to do, when to do it and what will happen if they do not do it. Advice is offered freely and regularly, whether it is welcomed or not. Children are expected to conform, rather than to experiment, and to learn by rote, rather than by innovation.
The importance of the ethic of non-interference helps to explain the use of stories in Aboriginal societies. If advice is given, it is usually in the form of a story. It lays out a situation with options. The advice is contained in the story and the listener is free to understand it as he or she wants to, and to act or to not act on that advice accordingly.
This rule of behaviour is still strongly evident in Aboriginal communities. Where it once was necessary to ensure the survival of a group, this ethic continues to be functional to maintain harmony within the community. It demands people show respect for other people’s personal privacy. It promotes individual self-reliance and responsibility with assurances that others will not intercede or interfere in the individual’s personal affairs. Finally, it encourages people to make decisions, and accept responsibility for those decisions, starting at an early age. TOP

The Rule of Non-Competitiveness TOP
The second ethic Brant describes is the rule of non-competitiveness. It exists to suppress internal conflict within a group by "averting intragroup rivalry." It also acts to prevent the embarrassment "that a less able member of the group might feel" while involved in a group activity. Brant says this ethic often is misinterpreted by many European-Canadians as an inability to compete. However, he says, success or attainment of goals for Aboriginal people stress a more cooperative approach, as opposed to the imposition of one person’s will upon the group, or the attainment of personal success at the expense of group needs.25 TOP

Emotional Restraint TOP
One of Brant’s theories concerns the ethic he has called the "exercise of emotional restraint." It is a complement to, and an extension of, the ethics of non-interference and non-competitiveness. It too developed out of a need to control outbursts of emotions that might cause disruption in tightly knit groups or families. However, he warns, it is a double-edged sword.
On the positive side, it promotes self-control and discourages the expression of strong or violent feelings. However, emotions such as joyfulness and enthusiasm are suppressed along with anger and impulses to destructiveness.26
Brant says this ethic may be "problematic" for Aboriginal people in today’s society when "repressed hostility," against distant government bureaucracy, for instance, "often explodes into the open under the influence of alcohol and inappropriately visited upon by innocent bystanders such as a spouse, child or casual acquaintance." It may also lead to problems in dealing with grief from separation or loss. He quotes one study in which "Forty-four percent of the Native people who consulted a psychiatrist ... were suffering from grief reaction of one kind or another."27 TOP

Sharing TOP
Sharing is another rule of behaviour exhibited by many Aboriginal peoples. In some instances, it was institutionalized in ceremonies to ensure that no one became too rich or powerful and, conversely, that no one became too poor or too powerless. Such ceremonies included the Potlatch of the West Coast and the Sundance of Manitoba. However, it was, and remains, a daily feature of Aboriginal societies in a less formal fashion. TOP
In Aboriginal times, when this principle originated among Native peoples, group survival was more important than individual prosperity; consequently, individuals were expected to take no more than they needed from nature and to share it freely with others. Of course, this is somewhat akin to the central principle of Marxism and Christianity. Native people however, regard it neither as a political ideology nor as a religious requirement. It was and still is simply a part of the Native way of life. Although the main function was to help ensure group survival in the face of the ever present threat of starvation, it also serves as a form of conflict suppression by reducing the likelihood of greed, envy, arrogance and pride within the tribe.28
These four major Aboriginal ethics or rules of behaviour (non-interference, non-competitiveness, emotional restraint and sharing) form the basis of daily relations within Aboriginal communities. But they work with four supplementary ethics: a concept of time, the expression of gratitude and approval, social protocols, and the teaching and rearing of children. TOP

Conflicts Arising from Aboriginal Cultural Imperatives TOP
Aboriginal people have developed their own views and customs, or rules of behaviour, that are sometimes in conflict with those of the dominant society. For example, Aboriginal people have a very different concept of time from that of most other Canadians. It is referred to jokingly by Aboriginal people as "Indian time" or "Metis time." But it is simply an acknowledgement that events will take place when it is the proper time, after the required social protocols have been followed, or as long as they do not interfere with other duties or activities.
[T]he Native person has an intuitive, personal and flexible concept of time. It may have had its origin in an age when the activities of Native people were regulated by the seasons—by the sun, the migratory patterns of birds and animals, and a changing food supply.... Today, the Native concept of time seems less a principle for living with nature and more of a manifestation of the need for harmonious interpersonal relationships. For example, Tom, Dick and Harry may not make it to an 8 pm meeting because they have other responsibilities they are unable to leave because the time is not right. If they have a particular interest in the matter under discussion, the meeting will not be started until they arrive or until some message is received that they are not coming. To start without them might offend these esteemed members of the community.... In another, more social context, it might be rude and inconsiderate to start a dance at a wedding celebration without all the brothers and sisters of the bride and groom being able to take part in the first waltz.29
To illustrate the relevance in the justice system of such cultural differences between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people, here is an example provided by a Micmac court worker in Nova Scotia:
Now time is usually divided in the Micmac world according to the positioning of the sun. Now if you are a Micmac person being examined or cross-examined on the witness stand, the lawyer might say, “Well, did you see this happen at seven o’clock in the morning?” And the Native person would answer to me, “Yes, no he would say, “Wej kwap niaq” which means the sun has just risen. And so I would turn around and I would give that statement to whoever was asking the questions. And then the Prosecutor not being satisfied with this answer, would say, “yeh, but ... was it seven o’clock in the morning?” And the Native person would say, “Well, you know the sun had risen.” And simply because seven o’clock in the morning in the summer and seven o’clock in the winter are different in the sense that the sun rises at different times. So he would find difficulty in answering—answering the question. And sometimes he would eventually say, “Yes, it was seven o’clock in the morning” just to get out of that situation.30 TOP

Other Rules of Behaviour TOP
There are rules governing nearly every form of social behaviour. There is a rule dictating the proper way to commend another or express appreciation so as not to embarrass that particular person or demean the less-than-adequate accomplishment of another person. There are rules governing proper etiquette or social protocol. "Native society has highly structured and demanding rules of social behaviour. There are rules about everything. Many, however, are specific to individual villages, clans, tribes and bands, a fact that can cause problems, given the ethic of non-interference."31
There is even a rule that defines the proper method of teaching Aboriginal young people or children. Unlike European-Canadians, Aboriginal people teach their young people through example. They allow the children to set their own goals and to learn that which the children feel is important or worthwhile. This method also respects the other rules of behaviour restricting interference and avoiding conflict. This method of teaching has often been misinterpreted or misunderstood by European-Canadians as a sign of poor parenting.
However, it conveys information about the proper behaviour to the young person while it promotes self-reliance and responsibility. It also engenders respect for the rules of society while it reinforces the importance of role models, parents and other people doing the teaching—the elders in the community.
Brant surmises these ethics or rules of behaviour are reinforced within Aboriginal society by two other factors. The first is "the projection of conflict," or the removal of blame to the outside, away from the immediate family or clan and towards some unseen and distant villain. This villain might take the shape of a witch or a monster and originally was used to discipline people by implied threat. "Anger provoked them, so children were taught from a very early age never to engage in angry behaviour. Anger was considered not only unworthy and unwise, but dangerous as well."32
The second factor is the use of teasing, shaming and ridicule as a means of social control to discourage unwelcome behaviour and encourage the maintenance of harmony. On one hand, the use of such humiliation encouraged closeness and kept young people attached to the group, promoting group unity and survival. On the other hand, it drove the more reckless, bold or rebellious away from the group which, again, promoted stability within the group. It also emphasized the use of peer pressure to reinforce the rules of society upon the individual.
Again, we stress that these theories of human behaviour are, as Brant himself warns, "far from complete." They may lend themselves to oversimplification and stereotyping. Brant recognizes this danger and presents them not as confirmed fact, but as theories to encourage debate and to "promote the further demystification of Native behaviour." We do so as well. We present them to illustrate the vast differences in worldviews and in psychological behaviours between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal peoples.
We do, however, believe that Dr. Brant’s work is valuable as a tool for understanding how the cultural values of Aboriginal people determine their actions in certain situations. This is an understanding that even many Aboriginal people lack. Brant’s findings become even more critical when one considers the impact that non-Aboriginal systems of government, policies and programs have had upon Aboriginal people, due to this lack of knowledge. To a large extent, this same knowledge has determined the manner in which Aboriginal people have reacted to government injustices.
In addition, the suppression of the rights of Aboriginal people to perform certain ceremonies and to adhere to their cultural imperatives has contributed to the social disruption in their communities. This disruption has interfered with the ability of Aboriginal people to deal with the various pressures confronting them. It also has denied them culturally appropriate ways of maintaining harmony and limiting social disruption.
Aboriginal cultures have, and continue to practise, ceremonies which encourage the controlled release of emotions in an appropriate manner. There are "grieving" ceremonies in which Aboriginal people are encouraged to deal with loss and separation. The "shaking tent" and "sweat lodge" ceremonies were used in this manner to "purify" or rid a person of latent hostilities and anger.
Sports, games and social functions allowed individuals to express anger, competitiveness or happiness in socially acceptable ways. There were "healing" circles in which the most deeply felt hurts were explored and dealt with within the context of traditional teachings. There were elders who counselled and advised individuals and the tribe on how to resolve disputes and relieve tensions.
What has been suppressed by laws and other religions in the past are these traditional mechanisms by which Aboriginal people have dealt with personal problems and pressures. Many of these ceremonies were outlawed by governments until very recently. These ceremonies are still dismissed or debased by some people, even today. The disruption of Aboriginal societies, for the most part, has not interfered greatly with such rules of behaviour, but it has interfered greatly with the means by which Aboriginal people maintained personal balance and well-being. TOP

Cultural Imperatives and Systemic Discrimination TOP


Until we realize that [Aboriginal people] are not simply “primitive versions of us” but a people with a highly developed, formal, complex and wholly foreign set of cultural imperatives, we will continue to misinterpret their acts, misperceive their problems, and then impose mistaken and potentially harmful “remedies.”33 [Emphasis in original]
It is exactly this misunderstanding that is at the heart of systemic discrimination. The justice system assumes much about the people who appear before it. The system assumes all persons will use the same reasoning when protecting their interests, when choosing their pleas, when conducting their defences, when confronting their accusers, when responding to detailed questions, and when showing respect and remorse to the court. It also assumes that punishment will affect all persons in the same manner.
When the justice system of the dominant society is applied to Aboriginal individuals and communities, many of its principles are at odds with the life philosophies which govern the behaviour of Aboriginal people. The value systems of most Aboriginal societies hold in high esteem the interrelated principles of individual autonomy and freedom, consistent with the preservation of relationships and community harmony, respect for other human (and non-human) beings, reluctance to criticize or interfere with others, and avoidance of confrontation and adversarial positions.
Methods and processes for solving disputes in Aboriginal societies have developed, of course, out of the basic value systems of the people. Belief in the inherent decency and wisdom of each individual person implies that any person will have useful opinions in any given situation, and should be listened to respectfully. Aboriginal methods of dispute resolution, therefore, allow for any interested party to volunteer an opinion or make a comment. The "truth" of an incident is arrived at through hearing many descriptions of the event and of related, perhaps extenuating, circumstances.
Impossible though it is to arrive at "the whole truth" in any circumstance, as Aboriginal people are aware, they believe that more of the truth can be determined when everyone is free to contribute information, as opposed to a system where only a chosen number are called to testify on subjects carefully chosen by adversarial counsel, where certain topics or information are inadmissible, and where questions can be asked in ways that dictate the answers.
Because the purpose of law in Aboriginal society is to restore harmony within the community, not only the accused has to be considered. Other people who have been or might be affected by the offence, particularly the victim, have to be considered in the matter of "sentencing" and disposition.
In the Ojibway concept of order, when a person is wronged it is understood that the wrongdoer must repair the order and harmony of the community by undoing the wrong. In most cases, the responsibility is placed on the wrongdoer to compensate the wronged persons. This concept of order makes the individual responsible for the maintenance of harmony within the society. Restitution to the victim or victims is, therefore, a primary consideration.
The person wronged, bereaved or impoverished is entitled to some form of restitution. In the eyes of the community, sentencing the offender to incarceration or, worse still, placing him or her on probation, is tantamount to relieving the offender completely of any responsibility for a just restitution of the wrong. It is viewed by Aboriginal people as a total vindication of the wrongdoer and an abdication of duty by the justice system.
The accused also may have dependants who are involved in some way. Aboriginal people believe care has to be taken so that actions to control the offender do not bring hardship to others. The administration of justice in Aboriginal societies is relationship-centred and attempts to take into account the consequences of dispositions on individuals and the community, as well as on the offender.
The differences between Aboriginal processes and the processes of the Canadian justice system are profound. The Canadian justice system, like other justice systems in the European tradition, is adversarial. When an accusation has been made against an individual, legal advisers representing plaintiff and defendant confront one another before an impartial judge or jury. Witnesses are called to testify for or against the accused; that is, to criticize or explain the actions of another. Guilt or innocence are decided on the basis of the argument that takes place between legal representatives. Retribution is demanded if the person accused is considered guilty.
The concepts of adversarialism, accusation, confrontation, guilt, argument, criticism and retribution are alien to the Aboriginal value system, although perhaps not totally unknown to Aboriginal peoples. In the context of Aboriginal value systems, adversarialism and confrontation are antagonistic to the high value placed on harmony and the peaceful coexistence of all living beings, both human and non-human, with one another and with nature. Criticism of others is at odds with the principles of non-interference and individual autonomy and freedom. The idea that guilt and innocence can be decided on the basis of argument is incompatible with a firmly rooted belief in honesty and integrity that does not permit lying. Retribution as an end in itself, and as an aim of society, becomes a meaningless notion in a value system which requires the reconciliation of an offender with the community and restitution for victims.
The same contradictions between Aboriginal values and the dominant justice system result in a heavy burden being placed on Aboriginal accused, plaintiffs and witnesses who enter into the "white" justice system. Accusation and criticism (giving adverse testimony), while required in the Canadian justice system, are precluded in an Aboriginal value system which makes every effort to avoid criticism and confrontation. "Refusal or reluctance to testify, or when testifying, to give anything but the barest and most emotionless recital of events" appears to be the result of deeply rooted cultural behaviour in which "giving testimony face to face with the accused is simply wrong ... [and] where in fact every effort seems to have been made to avoid such direct confrontation."34 In Aboriginal societies, it may be ethically wrong to say hostile, critical, implicitly angry things about someone in his or her presence, precisely what our adversarial trial rules require.
Plea-making is another area where the mechanics of the Canadian justice system are in conflict with Aboriginal cultural values. Aboriginal individuals who, in fact, have committed the deeds with which they are charged are often reluctant or unable to plead not guilty because that plea is, to them, a denial of the truth and contrary to a basic tenet of their culture.
Some people have pointed out to our Inquiry that many Aboriginal people have trouble comprehending the "white" concept of guilt or innocence before a court, in terms of their own culture. There is no such concept in Aboriginal culture and so there are no words in their vocabulary for "guilty" or "not guilty." This example comes from the Royal Commission on the Donald Marshall, Jr., Prosecution in Nova Scotia.
Q I was starting to ask you if you could explain to us the ... meaning of the word “guilty” in Micmac.
Francis: There really is no such word as “guilty” in the Micmac language. There is a word for “blame”. So an Indian person who’s not as knowledgeable let’s say in the English language if he were asked if he were guilty or not, he would take that to mean, “Are you being blamed or not?” and that’s one of the reasons I found that Native people were pleading guilty is because they suspect that the question was, “Is it true that you’re being blamed?” and the Native person would of course say, “Yes.” In other words, but the real question being, “Are you guilty or not guilty?” and the answer of course would be “Yes, I plead guilty,” thinking that’s blame. What they neglected to say was, “Yes, I’m guilty that I’m being blamed but I didn’t do it.”35
Similar problems with language exist between Aboriginal people and the justice system in Manitoba. We had this exchange with Art Wambidee, a court worker from the Sioux Valley First Nation:
Q You mentioned as well problems in interpreting some of the words that are used in court. That issue was raised with us before by people in the north talking about the Cree language, that there is no concept for “guilty” or “innocent”. It doesn’t translate into one word. Is that the same thing with your language?
Art Wambidee: It’s the same thing, yes.
Q How would you, if you had to interpret “guilty” or “not guilty” for someone in your language? How would you interpret that? What would you make them try to understand?
A Well, I guess that I’d sort of interpret it, “Did you do that, or didn’t you?”
A final example is the implicit expectation on the part of lawyers, judges and juries that people standing accused before them should show remorse and a desire for rehabilitation. However, Aboriginal cultural imperatives demand that they accept, without emotion, what comes to them. Aboriginal people, therefore, might react contrary to the expectations of people involved in the justice system. In the Aboriginal person’s powerlessness, he or she simply may wait passively, with head respectfully bowed, to receive the judgment of the court. This attitude has been carried over into Aboriginal behaviour within the justice system.
In his effort to honour those pleading his case, he makes every attempt to agree to their requests, (to) give answers that please, and not to argue or appear adversarial.36
Judges and juries can hardly be impartial when they misinterpret the words, demeanour and body language of individuals. Witnesses who refuse to testify, and people accused of crimes who refuse to plead and who show no emotion, are judged differently from those who react in ways expected by the system. Their culturally induced responses are misunderstood, sometimes as contempt, and may result in an unfair or inappropriate hearing and in inappropriate sentencing. To require people to act in ways contrary to their most basic beliefs and their ingrained rules of behaviour not only is an infringement of their rights—it is a deeply discriminatory act. TOP

Language Issues TOP
Lawyers, court communicators, family court workers, juvenile workers, Aboriginal community members and other concerned people stressed to our Inquiry the pervasiveness of language problems for Aboriginal people at every stage of Manitoba’s system of justice.
These issues are not merely of language; they go to the heart of our society’s obligation to ensure that people understand their legal rights and obligations, the nature of any charges against them and any legal proceedings affecting their rights. The right of all people to the use of a familiar language, preferably their first language, is not always met. Canadian courts do not automatically provide interpreters for Aboriginal people, nor do enforcement and corrections agencies. An even more fundamental question, beyond this immediate and pressing omission, is whether Aboriginal people understand the concepts behind the language used in the legal system, even when interpreters and translators are used. TOP

Understanding Words TOP
On a mechanical level, there are obvious problems when the police, lawyers and the courts conduct business in a language that is not the mother language, nor even perhaps the second language, of the people involved. Translation and interpreter services often are not available. When offered, they may be inadequate or even prejudicial.
On the philosophical level, there is the serious question of whether the legal terms of the dominant society can be translated into Aboriginal languages. Even if that can be done, does the translation actually convey the same concept to Aboriginal people in their mother tongue as it does to European-language speakers?
Mechanical language problems have been identified at every step of the legal process. When individuals are approached by police under what police officers consider suspicious circumstances, they often cannot explain what may be, in fact, innocent situations. They may not understand the reasons for their arrests or the explanations of their rights. Remarks and explanations made in inadequate or broken English or French during arrest, transportation and booking have been misunderstood by arresting officers and used to incriminate some Aboriginal people. As northern paralegal Sylvia Grier told us, "Police reports were not accurate because of an inability of Aboriginal speakers to explain the circumstances to the police."
Aboriginal people who do not speak a dominant language cannot ask to use a telephone or request a public defender, or even ask for help to do so, if there are no translation services provided while they are booked. Translation is not readily available during consultations between the people accused and their lawyers. In the courtroom, according to Chief Philip Michel of Brochet, "by-standers are often sworn in to act as interpreters … [with] no guarantee of proper communication or unbiased translation."
It is obvious that defendants who do not speak English or French, or who do not speak the relevant language well, will be at a disadvantage during courtroom proceedings. It is not so obvious that many Aboriginal people who do speak a dominant language may have a command of that language which enables them to function in most areas of life, but which is not adequate for dealing with formal courtroom language. This problem is not restricted to Aboriginal peoples. Many lifelong, fluent and highly articulate anglophones and francophones cannot deal with "legalese."
It is also apparent to observers that many people do not realize that they are missing or misunderstanding parts of the proceedings. As we learned from our hearings, many are reluctant to admit a language deficiency in public.
A fundamental right of all Canadians in the justice system ought to be the right to use a known language, preferably their mother tongue. Obvious as this may seem, and in spite of the fact that the Charter of Rights and Freedoms enshrines a person’s right to an interpreter, there is no program to ensure that Aboriginal people have access to an interpreter in court, nor are they told they have a right to one. Although there are a number of court communicators working in our courts, their mandate is "to assist Native Peoples in the development of a better understanding of their rights, interests, privileges, and responsibilities in relation to the criminal justice system. It is the role of the Court Communicator to assist Native Peoples through the process and attempt to bridge any gaps which may exist."37 In other words, their job is to interpret cultures, not languages, and their training prepares them mainly to interpret the customs of the dominant society to Aboriginal peoples—not the other way around.
Court communicators in the Manitoba program may provide interpreting services, but only unofficially, "due to a lack of other available resources."38 Interpreting is not part of their role. Local people are frequently hired as court interpreters, but many people see their services as inadequate because they are untrained, not properly qualified, and can give no guarantee of impartiality or neutrality.
Apparently, the only interpreter/translator training program in use in Canada is the one in the Northwest Territories. The program consists of a course and materials prepared for freelance and government interpreters. It is designed to help them understand existing court procedures, language and protocol.
However, translation problems are described within the context of English. The material does not deal with the differing concepts of Aboriginal and dominant society approaches to law and justice. Many of the inadequacies of the Legal Interpreter’s Handbook, the manual prepared for court communicators in the Northwest Territories, are the result of ethnocentricity and cultural misunderstanding by the authors.
The Manitoba Native Court Interpreter’s Manual has been judged by some Cree scholars and linguists to be an adequate beginning to the process of translating legal language into Aboriginal languages. However,
... problems encountered with the Court Manual and with the process of translating and verifying the words requested were all the result of the difficulty of creating a vocabulary for which there is no cultural concept in the language. The vocabulary has to be developed and agreed upon, then taught to the people it will impinge upon.39 TOP

Understanding Legal Concepts TOP
There are really two types of misunderstandings that arise from the translation of terms from one language into another. The first is easier to understand: some words simply do not translate directly into an Aboriginal language. Much more difficult and, therefore, more prone to misunderstandings, is the attempt to convey the concepts implied by technical legal words.
Take the word "truth," for example. "Truth" is a key concept in the Canadian legal system and, as such, is considered definite and definable. One swears "to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth." There are well-defined sanctions for people whom the court determines are not telling the "truth" or are committing perjury.
On the other hand, the Ojibway understanding of "truth" incorporates the concept that "absolute truth" is unknowable.
When an Ojibway says “niwii-debwe”, that means he is going to tell “what is right as he knows it”. A standard expression is “I don’t know if what I tell you is the truth. I can only tell you what I know.”40
It is as a philosophical proposition that in saying a speaker casts his words and his voice as far as his perception and his vocabulary will enable him or her, that it is a denial that there is such a thing as absolute truth; the best and most the speaker can achieve and a listener expect is the highest degree of accuracy. Somehow that one expression, “w’dab-ahae”, sets the limits to a single statement as well as setting limits to truth and the scope and exercise of speech.41
Truth and knowledge, to an Ojibway, are always relative. Individuals can say only what they have observed or experienced, and are prepared to doubt whether they have done so accurately and correctly. Culturally ingrained habits of respect for others and for other people’s opinions, of doubt concerning one’s own rightness and righteousness, of willingness to be corrected, and of unwillingness to set oneself up as an authority or expert, account for the readiness with which Aboriginal witnesses appear to change their testimony.
An Aboriginal person challenged by someone perceived to be wiser, more powerful or more knowledgeable may agree readily that perhaps the other person is right. The Aboriginal person, in certain circumstances, is open to suggestions that he or she may have misunderstood, misperceived or misheard the events that are under examination.
The proceedings of the Royal Commission on the Donald Marshall, Jr., Prosecution contain an example of the Aboriginal understanding of the relativity of truth.
Q What about the questioning process, the questioning of a witness in the Courtroom, of a Micmac witness?
Francis: That was another area in which I found to be just devastating towards Native people who attempted to defend themselves in that—in almost all cases a Native person who was not that familiar with the English language would work so hard to try to satisfy the person who was asking the questions. If for instance, either a lawyer or a prosecuting lawyer was asking the questions to a native person on the witness stand and was not satisfied with the answer that he or she received, would continue to ask the question by checking a word here or there and asking the same question and the native person would change the answer from, let’s say a “no” to a “yes” or a “yes” to a “no” ... simply because he felt that whatever he was doing, he wasn’t doing it right and he would attempt to satisfy the person asking the questions.
Q Regardless of the truth?
Francis: Regardless of the truth.42
The exchange, odd though it sounds to anglophone ears, illustrates the point that the lawyer or prosecuting lawyer was searching for "absolute truth," a concept the witness’ culture does not accept.
From the time of his or her arrest until sentencing, the "truth," as revealed by the Aboriginal individual, will be relative to his or her perceptions of the situation. This could very well mean many different versions of the "truth": one during police interrogation, one in conversation with lawyer or lawyers, the one known widely in the Aboriginal community and, finally, the one given under cross-examination in court. In the Indian view, at no point would he or she be accused of lying. All the versions would be deemed reasonable in view of what might have happened, and no one would deem it necessary to judge one version more right than the others.
Other concepts embedded in Aboriginal culture and expressed through Aboriginal languages would be interpreted somewhat differently in English. Concepts of time and space, for example, are much less precise in Aboriginal languages, while they are exactly measured and divided into uniform units in English. More specifically, words describing time or distance in Aboriginal languages would tend to be vague, such as "near," "too heavy" or "after sundown," as compared to "three feet," "110 pounds" and "a quarter after 11" in English.
The inability to name an exact time, or estimate a distance or a weight with precision, is due in large part to the irrelevance of these concepts to Aboriginal life. In a courtroom, the persistence of a lawyer in trying to elicit a precise response results in the witness becoming convinced that the lawyer is asking for verification of his or her own point of view.
The Aboriginal witness, when confronted by a question whether the distance was 10, 20 or one foot, is stumped. The information is of no interest to the witness but appears to be of considerable importance to the lawyer. The lawyer is in a position of authority and, therefore, is to be honoured by concurrence with his or her point of view, whatever it might be. So the Aboriginal witness will try to reassure the lawyer that the information is correct.43
Many Aboriginal people are just as vague when it comes to such things as house numbers. An individual knows where home is in terms of how to get there, but may not bother to remember the house number. This very circumstance has resulted in many people being recorded mistakenly by the police as having "no fixed address," thus affecting their prospects for bail or consideration during sentencing. TOP

New Concepts—Old Words TOP
Some words can be translated directly from an Aboriginal language into the English language, but they may not convey the same concept. Some concepts are totally foreign to Aboriginal thought and so new words or phrases have to be invented to approximate the meaning. Former court interpreter Barbara Whitford gave this example:
Q What about other phrases that you may have some difficulty or that an interpreter or a person who speaks, say, only Ojibway, would have difficulty understanding an English legal concept. Probation is an example....
Barbara Whitford: Actually, you have posed a very difficult question, as it just happened for me this afternoon and I was unable to be able to say to that woman, in my language, the question that you just asked.
Q The question about probation?
A I could come back and tell you. I need to think about that. I need to seek an older person, perhaps my mother, who might have that language. Are you understanding what I am saying?
Q Yes. So, you don’t have a way of explaining it. You couldn’t explain probation....
A Not right off the bat. As I’m sitting here, no, I cannot answer that, no.
Because most concepts of the dominant justice system differ from those of Aboriginal societies, words used to describe the concepts in an Aboriginal language have had to be newly coined or invented, or explained with words that actually have different meanings. The way that Art Wambidee translates "probation" for an offender is, "it will mean that he’s dragging a rope behind him." Barbara Whitford gave us other examples:
Q It has often been said that in Aboriginal languages, Ojibway and Cree and others, that there is no single word that captures what a lawyer is.
Barbara Whitford: Right.
Q If you were asked to interpret a lawyer, the word lawyer, how would you explain that?
A Well, I have a word for that, for lawyer.
Q What is that word?
A (Indian name for lawyer).
Q And what does that translate back in English meaning?
A Someone who defends you.
Q How about judge; do you have a word for judge?
A I was sitting there this afternoon contemplating that. No, not right offhand, I don’t. But it is along the same lines as what I just said, the person who makes the decision regarding.
Many words used in Aboriginal languages to describe the concepts of the Canadian legal system carry connotations which they may or may not have in English. The Cree term for "arrested" (literally, he or she was "caught") implies a presumption of guilt, as does the Cree word for "accused."
Even if legal proceedings were carried out entirely in Aboriginal languages, there would be problems describing concepts which are wholly Western. In European languages, for instance, "to appeal" is to act in a particular way, but in Ojibway the relevant word is an abstraction which means the "science of appealing," or the "art of appealing." It cannot be used to describe an act. For the word in Ojibway to be given the added meaning of action would be to violate Ojibway grammatical structures and the manner of thought which underlies them.44
Other words have been translated literally from English into Aboriginal languages. The English word "bail," for instance, has been translated into Ojibway and means bail as in "bailing a boat." The Ojibway word itself is unclear until it is put into context. To use the single Ojibway word for "bail," as we use the English word in a courtroom context, would require widespread consultation and acceptance about the word or phrase among Ojibway speakers. Unlike English, Ojibway does not have a body of words with double meanings (homonyms) whose individual meanings are dependent on context.45 The imposed introduction of a homonymic element would be another violation of Ojibway grammar and the worldview it expresses.
Many Ojibway words are imprecise, or perhaps it would be better to say that many words do not describe in detail. For instance, there is no way to distinguish between a defence lawyer and a Crown attorney in a short phrase. To explain the difference between these two kinds of lawyers would require a detailed explanation of the workings of the court in order for an Ojibway-only speaker to understand the concepts.
Finally, the English language and lifestyle are not threatened in North America, nor is change feared. Aboriginal people, on the other hand, are justifiably concerned about the erosion of their cultures and languages, and are understandably less open to incorporating "foreign" concepts and elements into their languages.
A basic problem in using Aboriginal languages in the legal system is that until recently they did not exist in print. Some Aboriginal languages still have not been put into written form. This makes the standardization of words and their meanings difficult, if not impossible, in some cases. The same word in the same language can imply different meanings from community to community and from regional dialect to regional dialect.
If it is determined that Aboriginal languages are going to be used in the courts, then language development activities have to proceed to build a corpus of Aboriginal language terms which are universally understood and accepted with that language group.46 TOP

Conclusion TOP
Law has a special meaning to Aboriginal people. The "law," to Aboriginal people, means rules that they must live by and it reflects their traditional culture and values. For instance, the Ojibway worldview is expressed through their language and through the Law of the Orders, which instructs people about the right way to live. The standards of conduct which arise from the Law of the Orders are not codified, but are understood and passed on from generation to generation. Correct conduct is concerned with "appropriate behaviour, what is forbidden, and the responsibility ensuing from each."47 The laws include relationships among human beings as well as the correct relationship with other orders: plants, animals and the physical world. The laws are taught through "legends" and other oral traditions.
Broadly speaking, Aboriginal people share many values with other peoples around the world. Yet, despite these similarities, Aboriginal cultures are vastly different from other cultures in Canada and throughout the world. They are unique and have no other place of origin. Despite this distinctiveness, Aboriginal cultures and ways of life have been assumed by the dominant society to be without value or purpose. Past policies deemed it best that these cultures be stamped out altogether. Failing that, it was decided that Aboriginal cultures would have to melt into the mainstream in the hope they would assimilate and disappear.
Aboriginal cultures and the values they represent have not disappeared. Instead, they have adapted to new times and new situations. They remain vibrant and dynamic today. The rules of behaviour and the cultural imperatives of Aboriginal society continue to determine how an Aboriginal person views the surrounding world, and they influence that person’s actions and reactions with other individuals and with society as a whole.
So do the laws, customs and traditions that have been defined by that culture. They define the concepts of justice in Aboriginal cultures. These laws respect the cultural imperatives that restrict interference and encourage restraint. Their primary purpose is to discourage disruption and to restore harmony when it occurs. They developed in other times and for other circumstances, but they remain powerful and relevant in Aboriginal society today.
We cannot continue to ignore the cultures of Aboriginal people and the laws, customs and values they generate. We cannot keep denying their very existence. To do so would be to compound past mistakes that have precipitated horrific consequences for Aboriginal people. If the justice system in Manitoba is to earn the respect of Aboriginal people, it must first recognize and respect their cultures, their values and their laws. TOP
buffy.jpg (6592 bytes)Manitoba Government Home Page
  Back to Table of Contents











http://www.ajic.mb.ca/volumel/chapter2.html

-----------------------------------


CANADA-   

Canada’s prisons ill-equipped to cope with aging inmates

Canada’s prison population is older than ever and that brings its own problems, says Canada’s Correctional Investigator.


Canada’s Correctional Investigator says the government is ill-equipped to handle the accessibility and health and safety issues associated with aging prison population.
Chris So / Toronto Star file photo
Canada’s Correctional Investigator says the government is ill-equipped to handle the accessibility and health and safety issues associated with aging prison population.
Behind the grey walls of Canadians prisons are greying men and women.
The populations in these federal facilities are older than ever before and Canada’s Correctional Investigator Howard Sapers says the government is ill-equipped to handle the accessibility and health and safety issues associated with aging.
And he told a news conference in Ottawa that “physical vulnerability and victimization of the elderly” are very real issues that can’t be ignored.
In his office’s 38th annual report released Tuesday, Sapers notes the segment aged 50 and over has grown by more than 50 per cent in the past decade, yet federal prisons were designed to accommodate younger inmates — not those with mobility issues and other impairments.
About 20 per cent of the 14,000 federal inmates are 50 years and older.
Among other things, the report calls for a national older offenders’ strategy to meet current and future demands on the correction systems.
“Some aging offenders find it difficult to maintain everyday essential routines such as eating, bathing dressing and meeting their hygiene requirements. Unable to take part in prison work or programs, some older offenders report feeling isolated, marginalized, abandoned,” he said.
Sapers said as prisons become more crowded, there are significant concerns associated with mixing “vulnerable older inmates” with “younger, more aggressive” convicts.
He told reporters that aging offenders in an Ontario prison told him they live in fear of these younger inmates.
“Intimidation and muscling are pervasive concerns amongst older offenders. I heard instances of physically challenged offenders being bullied to the top bunk by the cell mates, while others reported having to give up their prescription medications or meals to younger offenders,” he said, adding that these instances are rarely reported.
The report recommends a series of initiatives to the government:
 • Prison staff has the training and tools they need to manage this older population and, where necessary, additional staff should be hired.
 • As prisons are renovated and expanded, the design needs to take into consideration the needs of the aging convicts, including more accessible living arrangements.
 • Prison activities needs to be tailored to the older inmates.
“There appears little point in providing vocational training and employability skills that may have no relevance to an older offender who is already past retirement age,” Sapers said.
The report notes there should be a greater emphasis on releasing to the community older inmates, who no longer pose a risk, and terminally ill offenders, but Sapers said such a process is now mired in red tape.
“The Correctional Services must act quickly to address needs of this growing segment of the population. Our prisons were never meant to be hospitals, nursing homes or geriatric facilities,” he said.

http://www.thestar.com/news/canada/2011/11/01/canadas_prisons_illequipped_to_cope_with_aging_inmates.html

-----------------

History of the
Canadian Correctional System


http://www.csc-scc.gc.ca/educational-resources/092/ha-student-etudiant-eng.pdf

--------------------



Orange is the New White-Collar
·         by 
·        
·         @FortuneMagazine

It may be strange to realize that five years have already passed since Bernard Madoff reported to prison in the summer of 2009.
Madoff, as the world knows, ran one of the grandest Ponzi schemes in history until the swindle began to unravel in 2008. He pleaded guilty to fraud, money laundering, perjury, and false filing with the SEC—but the story always seemed larger than the sum of the crimes.
Maybe it was because of the sheer enormity of the heist—the tabloids pegged the losses at $65 billion (though later assessments said the figure was wildly inflated). Or maybe it was the boldfaced names that he bilked, figures that ranged from NY Mets owner Fred Wilpon to the charitable foundation of Nobel Peace Prize-winner Elie Wiesel. (Wiesel’s charity reportedly lost more than $15 million.) Or maybe it was that Madoff, a former chairman of Nasdaq, had seemed for years to be a pillar of the community—or that the crime had gone on, unchecked, for so long, or that regulators had missed so many clues to the malfeasance along the way. Or maybe it was the way Judge Denny Chin described Madoff’s crimes (“extraordinarily evil”) or the sentence that he handed down: 150 years. But in any case, the Madoff case seemed to define a generation’s worth of white-collar crime in the U.S.: the signal sent out was that this type of thievery was BIG and RARE and, when caught, it would be PUNISHED to the maximum.
As it turns out, that’s hardly the case at all. White-collar crime—a rubric that includes not just Ponzi schemes, but also a bevy of financial misdeeds, from embezzlement to money laundering to racketeering to insider trading—is far more common than many think. “White-collar” offenses made up 9.4 percent of federal criminal cases prosecuted in 2012 (the most recent report available), according to the U.S. Attorney’s office. That figure was up from 8.8% in 2009.
And yet a much smaller share of this group actually serves time. As of June 19, just 5.9% of the federal inmate population is in prison for crimes related to extortion, fraud, bribery, counterfeiting, embezzlement, banking and insurance-related offenses, according to the Bureau of Prisons (BOP). For comparison, nearly half (49.8%) of the country’s 216,620 federal inmates have been locked up for drug offenses; 15.7 percent for arson or crimes related to weapons and explosives; and 10.4 percent for immigration-related offenses. (We’ve examined only federal crimes for this report; there may be a significant number of white-collar criminals in state prisons.)
More than half of the best-known white-collar inmates—names like Raj Rajaratnam and Raj Gupta, to throw out a couple—are in prison because of insider trading. Since the mid-2000s, the Securities and Exchange Commission and federal prosecutors have ramped up their investigations, and the evidence is beginning to show. Since August 2009, for example, U.S. Attorney Preet Bharara has charged 90 people with insider trading; out of those, 84 have been convicted of or pled guilty to crimes, and 62 of them have been sentenced.
Where are all these white-collar criminals? Well, start with Madoff. He’s in Butner, N.C. And whatever happened, you might ask, to all those other fraudsters, like Jeff Skilling, Bernie Ebbers, and John Rigas…? Those fellows are in Montgomery, Ala.; Oakdale, La.; and Allenwood, Pa., respectively.
Like you, dear reader, we have often wondered about where the major white-collar convicts of yesteryear have ended up, and wondered much else as well—like how much time they have left in prison, and what life on the inside is really like.
So we thought we’d kick off your summer with a little prison roundup. There are plenty of surprises, as we discovered. Two of the best known of this breed, for instance—Tyco’s Dennis Kozlowski and Qwest’s Joe Nacchio—were both released in the past two years. Another surprise (or not) is that there are no women on our list: Roomy Khan and Winifred Jiau, both sentenced for crimes related to the Galleon Group insider trading case, were released in June.
Many of these imprisoned gentlemen are in minimum or low-security institutions. But some are in medium-security, and one or two were unlucky enough to land in high-security prisons. A chasm of difference separates each level, it’s worth noting. The change just from minimum-security to low-security, for example, can mean, in some locations, the addition of barbed-wire fences.
Raj Rajaratnam and a few others are currently housed in administrative facilities. That doesn’t mean that their digs are cushy, however. “Administrative security” facilities like Devens (where Rajaratnam is located, in Ayer, Ma.) aren’t necessarily higher or lower security than other prisons, a BOP spokesperson explains. The administrative label simply means that the staff has to deal with inmates of all security levels. Higher-security inmates require a higher staff-to-inmate ratio. And at a medical center like Devens, that extra staff may not be security, but rather doctors and nurses.
Even minimum-security prisons are not places where you’d want to spend any extended amount of time. Just ask former Wall Street M&A lawyer Matthew Kluger, who in June 2012 was handed the longest-ever sentence for insider trading. He’s reading this feature on a computer monitor inside a federal prison in Morgantown, W.V. Kluger sat down with Fortune last month for a lengthy and candid chat about his daily life in prison. (See our related story: “LIFE BEHIND BARS: Matthew Kluger reveals all.”)
To flesh out the details of our gallery we used the inmate locator run by the BOP, as well as a range of other governmental sources. And while the list below is not comprehensive, chances are you’ll find more than a couple of names you recognize. (Regarding the scope of jail terms for each, we’ve included the term handed down originally in sentencing; many of those prison terms have since been shortened.)



http://fortune.com/2014/07/07/orange-is-the-new-white-collar/




---------------


UK- If prisoners worked, we'd all be better off

Give inmates real jobs and they can start to repay their debt to our society, writes Blair Gibbs.


UK-

If prisoners worked, we'd all be better off; Prison reform plans are about more than just numbers; Corbis
Prison reform plans are about more than just numbers Photo: Corbis
The Government's sentencing changes have sparked controversy, but prison reform plans are about more than just numbers. Kenneth Clarke wants to fix a system that fails on rehabilitation – partly because prisons do not do enough to make their captive audience more employable.
Last October, the Justice Secretary said: "We need to instil in our jails a regime of hard work." People expect prisoners to work, but the default life of most prisoners – especially those on shorter sentences – is just a few hours a day of association and "purposeful activity" such as education, with only a small part of that involving work. The rest is lounging around on bunks, bench-pressing and lots of television.
Literacy and drug treatment should be the priority for most prisoners, but without adequate work schemes, the captive opportunity to develop the skills and work ethic of prisoners is lost, leading to poor employment rates and high reoffending. In the economy, 29 million people work and pay their way, but our 85,000 prisoners do not. Rules require prisoners to engage in "useful work" and privileges can be used to encourage compliance, but no inmate is compelled to work and most do not – partly due to lack of incentives and partly because work opportunities do not exist for the majority, let alone a full working week.
Our prisons have never been fuller, and yet half of their workshops are empty. At most, there are 24,000 work places. Huge investment and expansion since 1995 did not create more work places and the system has been in decline for decades. In 1962, Henry Brooke, the then home secretary, told Parliament that a "working week of 35 hours and upwards" was generally achieved in most prisons. Since 2005, however, it has fallen from 13.3 hours a week to 11.8 hours.
Some good practice does exist, like HMP Dovegate that has prisoners employed on electrical lighting work with a company that insourced that business from Eastern Europe. But such examples are rare. Most work pays a token sum, involves no payback to society, and is nothing like real employment. As work has declined, prisons have become increasingly comfortable. Prisoners do not pay tax, nor do they cover accommodation or food costs. They typically have free access to gym equipment, and other privileges are granted for a token sum.
Certain privileges like in-cell TVs are used to encourage compliance and the system is meant to reserve privileges for the most engaged and best behaved inmates, but they have become an entitlement. Only 2 per cent of prisoners are on the basic privilege level, while 42 per cent are on the enhanced level.
We need a scheme where privileges are focused on those prisoners who are willing to engage in their rehabilitation. The current system fails all parties. Victims of crime and the wider public perceive prison regimes as "soft" and not a proper punishment, with privileges granted but rarely earned; taxpayers are denied the potential economic return of more productive regimes; and offenders pay nothing back to society and are taught that work is unrewarding.
We need a new regime of work, with private companies hiring more prisoners to full-time jobs. Most prisoners – illiterate and drug dependent – are not ready for real work, but governors should aspire to increase the number who are, and to embed profitable, paid work as the core activity in their prison. The rationale is clear – employment is an obligation for everyone, but paid employment for prisoners is a privilege that they should earn. If an offender abides by the rules, gets off drugs and becomes literate, then they should be able to apply for work. If they do none of these things, then they should receive fewer privileges and none of the work benefits.
If chosen by an employer, the job in prison should be a real one for a commercial end. We need a market in prison work, not a planned economy. Companies could be required to pay a "prison minimum wage" – one that takes account of the living costs that prisons provide. But prisoners should not benefit without paying back, so wages should incur deductions. After tax and victim compensation, this might leave prisoners with 70p an hour.
This would be more than the token wages paid now and high enough to encourage more prisoners to work, but not so high that inmates accrue vast sums. If they work full-time and earn more, then they could save into a pot to spend on housing when they are released. Only by paying prisoners a fair wage will they earn enough to start paying back. A low wage would attract businesses to expand work, and if just 5,000 prisoners were employed in these real-work placements, the wage deductions over five years could raise £30 million for crime victims alone and help cover some of the costs of imprisonment.
A prison estate that holds many more inmates but regimes that require a lot less of them is a policy failure. But it is also an opportunity for a smart approach to prisons that delivers a win-win scenario. Real work makes prisoners more employable and less likely to reoffend. Society benefits financially and from lower crime in future. We need prisons with a purpose – not warehouses of idleness.
Blair Gibbs is the Head of Crime & Justice at Policy Exchange (www.policyexchange.org.uk). Its report, 'Inside Job', is published today. 
 http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/politics/8571650/If-prisoners-worked-wed-all-be-better-off.html


-------------------

NEW ZEALAND-


Education and training

Research shows that participation in education and employment can significantly reduce the risk of re-offending following release from prison. Educational achievement is also important in enabling offenders to fully participate and benefit from other rehabilitative programmes.
Many prisoners lack the necessary literacy and numeracy skills and qualifications and work experience to gain and sustain employment post-release.
We have set targets for education and training for the next five years as part of our commitment to achieving a 25 percent reduction in re-offending by 2017. These include that per year:
  • 3,000 prisoners will receive literacy and numeracy training and in-work support, An increase of 1200 prisoners per year
  • 2,000 prisoners will participate in secondary and self-directed tertiary learning, An increase of 800 prisoners per year
  • 10,000 offenders on community work sentences will receive basic work and living skills interventions
  • 6,000 offenders will receive support or education and training that will lead to stable employment.
We’re committed to increasing the level of literacy, education and employment training for prisoners and offenders. As a result, more people will have the skills and experience employers require.
To achieve this we offer prisoners a range of training opportunities to improve their literacy and numeracy, and help increase prisoner participation in employment training.

Foundation skills programmes

The foundation skills programme build the necessary skills required to complete rehabilitation, reintegration or employment training programmes. They are designed to engage and motivate learners, and provide them with the basic building blocks of foundation literacy, language and numeracy skills.
We offer a range of interchangeable programmes to allow the right mix of services for the individual learners at different sites. These programmes can be delivered to prisoners on remand or on short sentences, as well as mainstream prisoners in both male and female men’s and women’s prisons.

Trade and technical training

Training programmes in prison are based on:
  • the needs of our learners
  • opportunities and constraints of the prison environment (both general and site specific)
  • the education environment
  • and the employment environment.
Corrections’ training and offender employment pathways give prisoners the best possible chance to find quips them to gain sustainable employment on their release.
Trade and technical training programmes are available in six prisons.
Block courses are provided by Institutes of Technology and Polytechnic tutors over a 17 week period, and delivered in workshops at Corrections facilities.
Training is available in:
  • building construction and allied trade skills (BCATS)
  • forestry
  • horticulture
  • pre-trade painting
  • motor industry
  • plumbing
  • engineering
  • brick and block laying
Funding is provided through a mix of Corrections provided facilities, equipment and consumables while the Tertiary Education Commission provides Student Achievement Component funding, supporting the training and the provider.

On the job training

Approximately 300 offender employment instructors deliver on-the-job training in all our prisons. This allows offenders to experience a real work employment environment while obtaining qualifications on the New Zealand Qualification Framework.
Training programmes are developed with support of the relevant Industry Training Organisation who are responsible for developing and supporting training programmes that meet the needs of learners, providers, industry and Government.
Training covers the engineering, primary, timber and internal services.
We also have generic training activities that have value in the commercial world. Vehicle training courses cover:
  • forklift
  • ATV
  • ATVU
  • farm bike
  • tractor
  • crane
  • wheels tracks rollers
  • heavy transport and driver logbook
Machinery operation covers specialised equipment or skillsets and includes:
  • welding
  • confined spaces
  • heights safety
  • scaffolding, and others
The work based First Aid course is widely used throughout employment and pre-employment to provide prisoners with the skills to manage injuries and emergencies.

Self-directed tertiary study

Prisoners can work towards five qualifications:
  • Open Polytechnic Certificate in Career and Self Development
  • National Certificate in Employment Skills
  • Open Polytechnic Certificate in Work and Life Skills
  • NCEA Levels 1 and 2



http://www.corrections.govt.nz/working_with_offenders/prison_sentences/employment_and_support_programmes/education_and_training.html



-----------------







Frequently Asked Questions About Prison

Discover answers to commonly-asked questions about prison.

PMC-reentryIt has been said that visiting a prison is like visiting a foreign country. This “foreign land” has its own language, code of acceptable behavior, food, and way of dress. To help volunteers understand more about the prison environment, we’ve prepared a list of Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) about prison.
  1. What is the difference between a jail and a prison?
  2. Do all jails and prisons offer religious programs to inmates?
  3. How available are chaplains to prisoners?
  4. How do prisoners typically spend their days?
  5. What types of educational programs are available to prisoners?
  6. What types of jobs do prisoners have?
  7. How does the prison commissary system work?
  8. What type of medical care do prisoners receive?
  9. Why is respect so important within the prison environment?
  10. What is protective custody(PC)? Does it reduce violence?
  11. What are the consequences for breaking prison rules?
  12. What is administrative segregation (“ad seg”)?

1) What is the difference between a jail and a prison?

Jails are usually local facilities under the jurisdiction of a city, local district, or county. Jails are short-term holding facilities for the newly arrested and those awaiting trial or sentencing. Those sentenced to serve a small amount of time (less than a year) may be housed in the local jail for the duration of their sentence.
Prisons are institutional facilities under the jurisdiction of the state or federal government where convicted offenders serve longer sentences. People who have been found guilty of breaking a state law are usually sent to a state prison. Those who have violated federal laws are typically sent to federal prison located somewhere in the U.S.
Some states have jails and prisons that are privately operated – usually by a corporation. The state basically contracts with these private facilities to house prisoners and does not have as much control over how the facilities are operated.
Return to Top

2) Do all jails and prisons offer religious programs to inmates?

166Many jails and prisons have chaplains and are able to offer religious programs for inmates. Some do not. Typically, religious programming in a jail is fairly limited because of lack of space and lack of the security staff that would be required to oversee the classes and/or worship services.
Most state and federal prisons have a chaplain or educational director that manages religious and/or education programming for prisoners. Some prisons have extensive programs for inmates and others do not. It largely depends on the administration’s viewpoint on the value of religious programming and whether there are enough correctional staff and volunteers to operate the programs. Lack of space can also
be an issue.
Many correctional administrators are beginning to welcome religious programs into their facilities because prisoners participating in the programs become a calming influence within the whole population. When there is less violence and fewer disciplinary problems, it increases everyone’s safety, saves money, and makes the correctional staff’s job easier.
Return to Top

3) How available are chaplains to prisoners?

The availability of a chaplain varies. Some only visit the unit occasionally or perhaps only on certain days of the week, while others are full time. If the chaplain is an employee of the Department of Corrections (DOC), he/she may have many administrative duties that restrict the amount of time available for inmates. Volunteer chaplains and/or volunteer chaplain’s assistants are often more free to spend time serving the inmate population.
Chaplains come from all faiths. They may or may not be Christians. No matter what their faith, chaplains are required to provide services for inmates of all faiths.
Chaplains rely heavily on volunteers from local churches and communities in order to provide all the worship services and religious classes for prisoners. Volunteer-led programs must always be pre-approved by the chaplain and usually the warden. Approval is based on the needs of the facility, needs of the inmates, available space, existing program schedules, and the proposed volunteer activity.
Return to Top

4) How do prisoners typically spend their days

015How prisoners spend their time each day is primarily determined by their classification level. Those whose previous crimes and current behavior qualify them for low or medium security classification have more freedom and more opportunities than those in high security.
A typical day for someone in low or medium security begins with breakfast around 4:30am. These prisoners may then report to their work assignments around 6am. If they have no work assignment, they may have a class to attend or spend time in their bunks reading, writing letters, or listening to the radio. Lunch is around 11am. Afterwards, they may report to work or go to the gym or rec yard for exercise. The third meal of the day is usually around 4pm.
Prisoners may spend evening hours attending classes, watching television, or playing dominoes. Those who have commissary supplies may use their hotpots to heat something to eat, and if the prison has an inmate phone system, they may call their families for a few minutes.
On weekends, prisoners may be allowed to attend chapel programs and/or worship services. If they are fortunate, they may a visit with a friend or family member during visitation hours. All of these activities depend on prisoners having good behavior and obtaining necessary permissions and clearances.
Prisoners who have high security classifications or who have disciplinary problems have much fewer choices and many more restrictions. Life is very slow and boring for them.
Return to Top

5) What types of educational programs are available to prisoners?

STK-Prisoner Working-009Educational opportunities vary widely from prison to prison. Many states contract with local schools/colleges to provide a variety of academic courses, life skills education, and career and technology education for prisoners in certain prison units. Inmates are selected for participation based on their academic skills, disciplinary record, level of custody, length of sentence, and program availability.
Most prisons offer basic literacy programs for prisoners functioning below the sixth-grade level and GED classes for those wanting to complete high school. For those who have completed high school, postsecondary educational opportunities may be available through contracts with community colleges and universities. If accepted into a college-level program, it is possible for a prisoner to earn an associate degree and perhaps even go on to obtain a Baccalaureate degree. However, some prisoners prefer to earn a vocational certificate.
Not all prisoners have these educational opportunities. Participation in college-level classes and/or vocational programs is based on the inmate receiving approval from prison administration, passing entrance exams, and having money to pay all or part of the tuition. Some prisoners qualify for partial scholarships and others are required to pay full tuition.
A few prisoners get permission to take for-credit correspondence courses offered by colleges or universities, although they have to pay tuition and keep up with class assignments they receive by mail. Some prisoners may also receive permission to take free or low-cost Bible correspondence courses offered by churches and other religious organizations.
Many prisons offer life skills programs, which are non-credit courses designed to help prisoners learn to manage anger, overcome criminal thinking, set and achieve goals, become more responsible, develop healthy relationships, and avoid substance abuse. Prisoners are also strongly encouraged to participate in 12-step programs such as Celebrate Recovery, Alcoholics Anonymous, and Narcotics Anonymous. Community volunteers often lead these classes.
Prisoners basically make a choice whether or not they want to use their time in prison to better themselves. If they truly want to change their lives, prison education programs and religious programming are very helpful. Prison ministry volunteers typically have more contact with inmates who are trying to better themselves. These are the ones who typically sign up for
faith-based programs.
Return to Top

6) What types of jobs do prisoners have?

OSL Angola 2004-276The goal of many corrections departments is for all able-bodied prisoners to have jobs. However, there are not always enough jobs to go around.
Inmates typically work in prison-support jobs doing things like cooking, cleaning, doing clerical work, running the laundry, or performing maintenance chores. On prison units that have agricultural operations, inmates may do field work, raise livestock, or help maintain farm equipment. Some prisons have manufacturing facilities where inmates make signs or license plates, rebuild computers, make furniture, sew, process food, or do metal fabrication.
Some states pay prisoners a very low wage for their work, but most states do not pay inmates.  Prison jobs help inmates learn job skills and develop a stronger work ethic. Inmates may acquire skills in food preparation, plant operations, warehousing, recordkeeping, freight transportation, vehicle maintenance, animal husbandry, farming, construction, building maintenance, carpentry, plumbing, welding, and many other occupations.
Prisoners can apply for prison jobs that will help them be better prepared for employment when released. There is usually a certain amount of competition among inmates for the jobs that offer greater opportunity for future employment.
Return to Top

7) How does the prison commissary system work?

Prisoners are not allowed to possess money. If they are able to earn money by working a job in prison or their family sends them money, it goes into their personal inmate trust fund.  Most prisoners call this their “commissary money.”
While incarcerated, prisoners are provided meals, basic clothing, and a few very basic personal care items. Inmates with good behavior are allowed use their trust fund money to purchase additional supplies from the prison “store” or commissary. Prisoners look forward to commissary day, which is typically once every two weeks.
Although inmates may speak of “going to store,” it really means they take a list of items they want to buy and stand in line at the commissary window. When their commissary order is filled, they walk away with a bag full of precious commodities such as coffee, instant soup, chips, cookies, canned foods, shampoo, soap, toothpaste, writing paper, and stamps. With approval, prisoners can also buy things like hot pots, clocks, fans, typewriters, shoes, underclothing, and basic over-the-counter medications.
Prison food is very low quality, so life is much better for inmates who can afford commissary. Although it is against the rules, many prisoners trade some of their commissary supplies to get other things they need or want. If someone does not have money for commissary, they can often earn coffee, soups, or postage stamps by doing other inmates’ laundry, cutting hair, shining shoes, making greeting cards, fixing broken radios, etc. Prisoners in general are very entrepreneurial and there is always a strong barter system going on behind the scenes.
Return to Top

8) What type of medical care do prisoners receive?

Each prison usually has a clinic or infirmary to care for sick inmates. However, most prisons do not allow a prisoner who is sick to “go to medical” unless he/she sends in a written request and is sent a “lay-in” slip giving permission. Receiving a lay-in may take 3-5 days. Meantime, the sick prisoner just has to find a way to get by.
Medical and dental care within a prison is very limited and medical personnel work in sparse conditions, usually for lower pay than their counterparts on the outside. Prescription medications are almost always in short supply.
Inmates are often not allowed to have possession of the medication they have been prescribed. When it is time for their medication, the prisoner has to go stand in line at the “pill window,” where the medicine is dispensed one dose at a time. A correctional officer stands at the window, making sure prisoners take their medicine before walking away.
Prison systems typically have contracts with regional hospitals to provide medical care for seriously ill inmates. This means inmates have to be transported to the hospital by bus, which can be a grueling journey in itself. Extra security officers are required to transport inmates to the medical care facility, as well as to oversee them during their stay.
Some states charge inmates for their medical care and their medications. Although these fees are lower than an uninsured person might pay in the free world, the payments are a hardship for the majority of inmates and their families. Many inmates do not seek medical attention when they need it simply because they can’t afford it or it takes too long and is too much hassle.
Return to Top

9) Why is respect so important within the prison environment?

Christian PrisonersRespect is very important in prison and must be maintained. Disrespect in prison can lead to violent situations where prisoners may feel they have to prove they are not weak. Sometimes prisoners feel they have to do things they don’t want to do in order to survive in the prison environment.
In general, prisoners consider those found guilty of sexual crimes – rape, molestation, abuse – to be “lowest of the low.” It is very hard for a prisoner to conceal that he/she is incarcerated for this type of crime. These prisoners are often in danger from other prisoners. On the other hand, violent crimes such as murder and big-time robbery are respected among inmates and these prisoners are sometimes viewed as heroes.
A “punk” is an inmate who shows fear or is homosexual. These inmates are perceived as being weak. Once classified by other inmates as a punk, a person is much more susceptible to attack. That is why inmates feel it is extremely important to “establish yourself” when you arrive at a prison unit.
A “snitch” is an inmate who goes to the authorities and claims to have knowledge about another prisoner’s crimes or something the prisoner is doing that is against prison rules. Whether the information is true or untrue, snitching is the highest form of disrespect within inmate culture and may result in retaliation.
Even something as simple as borrowing something from another inmate can become an issue between prisoners. If the debt is not repaid quickly, it is considered disrespectful and can lead to violence. This is part of prison culture that doesn’t always make sense. However, the reality is that most prisoners believe respect must be maintained at all costs.
Prison inmates do not respect a person they think is phony. This means that someone who professes faith in Christ will be closely scrutinized by other prisoners to see if their walk matches their talk. Plus, some inmates are watching to see if Christianity really works. Phony Christianity is called “jailhouse religion” and is not respected at all.
Our job as Christian volunteers is to bring Kingdom culture to bear on prison culture. We must never condone violence, but always seek to bring God’s peace within the prison environment.
Return to Top

10) What is protective custody (PC)? Does it reduce violence?

Lancing_Kansas_IFI_by Jeff Peck398The Department of Corrections can take preemptive action and require high risk prisoners to be held in protective custody (or PC). Inmates who are repeatedly threatened or attacked can also request protective custody. However this classification is not automatically granted. The prisoner must usually prove he/she is in some sort of extreme danger.
If placed in PC, the prisoner is housed away from others, usually alone in a single cell. They are not allowed to participate in general population activities such as going to the rec yard, chow hall, open visitation, classes, or church services. They are more heavily guarded when being transported from one place to another.
Most prisoners would rather stand up and fight for themselves than go into protective custody. If this is the case, they will often seek to surround themselves with other inmates who will back them up if they are attacked. This increases tensions within the prison population and explains why inmates constantly watch everyone around them. They are aware that violence can erupt at any time and always seek to put themselves in the most advantageous position to avoid attack.
Return to Top

11) What are the consequences for breaking prison rules?

All inmates are required to obey the rules established by the Department of Corrections as well as additional rules set by the prison unit where they are assigned. Prisoners are given written copies of the rules when they are processed into the unit.
Violations of rules may be handled informally by verbal reprimand or by a more formal process where the correctional officer “writes up” the inmate, which then results in a disciplinary hearing. These hearings are usually very short, informal proceedings without lawyers and without a jury.
Punishment for most infractions involves being given extra work duty, being temporarily restricted to their cell or bunk, or experiencing temporary loss of recreation time, commissary privileges, and/or visitation rights. For major infractions, the prisoner may be permanently demoted to a more restricted security class with fewer privileges or even placed in solitary confinement.
Prisoners usually get very upset when written up for a rule violation. All disciplinary cases they receive become part of their permanent record and may be used to deny them access to certain security classifications, prison jobs, educational programs, reentry programs, or parole.
Return to Top

12) What is administrative segregation (“ad seg”)?

Administrative segregation means that a prisoner is housed separately from the main prison population. In most prisons, “ad seg” is another term for solitary confinement. Typically, prisoners get “put in the hole” if they violate prison rules, start fights, make threats, disregard officers, disobey direct orders, or make an attempt on anyone’s life.
Ad seg or solitary confinement usually means a person is placed in a very tiny cell by themselves, often without a bed or any other comforts. Sometimes a mattress or blanket is provided. There is no radio or TV and no windows – only a slot in the door where food trays are placed. They stay in the cell 23 hours a day and are taken out to shower and sometimes to exercise in a small pen, but otherwise they see no other human beings while they are in solitary.


https://www.prisonfellowship.org/resources/training-resources/in-prison/prison-culture/frequently-asked-questions-about-prison/







--------------
UK-The impact of experience in prison on the employment status of longer-sentenced prisoners after release

https://www.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/296320/impact-of-experience-in-prison-on-employment-status-of-longer-sentenced-prisoners.pdf

 

-----------------------------

 

 

The Prison Industry in the United States: Big Business or a New Form of Slavery?

http://www.globalresearch.ca/the-prison-industry-in-the-united-states-big-business-or-a-new-form-of-slavery/8289

 

------------

 

 

UNITED NATIONS- Standard Minimum Rules for the Treatment of Prisoners


Adopted by the First United Nations Congress on the Prevention of Crime and the Treatment of Offenders, held at Geneva in 1955, and approved by the Economic and Social Council by its resolutions 663 C (XXIV) of 31 July 1957 and 2076 (LXII) of 13 May 1977

PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS
1. The following rules are not intended to describe in detail a model system of penal institutions. They seek only, on the basis of the general consensus of contemporary thought and the essential elements of the most adequate systems of today, to set out what is generally accepted as being good principle and practice in the treatment of prisoners and the management of institutions.
2. In view of the great variety of legal, social, economic and geographical conditions of the world, it is evident that not all of the rules are capable of application in all places and at all times. They should, however, serve to stimulate a constant endeavour to overcome practical difficulties in the way of their application, in the knowledge that they represent, as a whole, the minimum conditions which are accepted as suitable by the United Nations.
3. On the other hand, the rules cover a field in which thought is constantly developing. They are not intended to preclude experiment and practices, provided these are in harmony with the principles and seek to further the purposes which derive from the text of the rules as a whole. It will always be justifiable for the central prison administration to authorize departures from the rules in this spirit.
4. (1) Part I of the rules covers the general management of institutions, and is applicable to all categories of prisoners, criminal or civil, untried or convicted, including prisoners subject to "security measures" or corrective measures ordered by the judge.
(2) Part II contains rules applicable only to the special categories dealt with in each section. Nevertheless, the rules under section A, applicable to prisoners under sentence, shall be equally applicable to categories of prisoners dealt with in sections B, C and D, provided they do not conflict with the rules governing those categories and are for their benefit.
5. (1) The rules do not seek to regulate the management of institutions set aside for young persons such as Borstal institutions or correctional schools, but in general part I would be equally applicable in such institutions.
(2) The category of young prisoners should include at least all young persons who come within the jurisdiction of juvenile courts. As a rule, such young persons should not be sentenced to imprisonment.
Part I
RULES OF GENERAL APPLICATION
Basic principle
6. (1) The following rules shall be applied impartially. There shall be no discrimination on grounds of race, colour, sex, language, religion, political or other opinion, national or social origin, property, birth or other status.
(2) On the other hand, it is necessary to respect the religious beliefs and moral precepts of the group to which a prisoner belongs.
Register
7. (1) In every place where persons are imprisoned there shall be kept a bound registration book with numbered pages in which shall be entered in respect of each prisoner received:
(a) Information concerning his identity;
(b) The reasons for his commitment and the authority therefor;
(c) The day and hour of his admission and release.
(2) No person shall be received in an institution without a valid commitment order of which the details shall have been previously entered in the register.
Separation of categories
8. The different categories of prisoners shall be kept in separate institutions or parts of institutions taking account of their sex, age, criminal record, the legal reason for their detention and the necessities of their treatment. Thus,
(a) Men and women shall so far as possible be detained in separate institutions; in an institution which receives both men and women the whole of the premises allocated to women shall be entirely separate;
(b) Untried prisoners shall be kept separate from convicted prisoners;
(c) Persons imprisoned for debt and other civil prisoners shall be kept separate from persons imprisoned by reason of a criminal offence;
(d) Young prisoners shall be kept separate from adults.
Accommodation
9. (1) Where sleeping accommodation is in individual cells or rooms, each prisoner shall occupy by night a cell or room by himself. If for special reasons, such as temporary overcrowding, it becomes necessary for the central prison administration to make an exception to this rule, it is not desirable to have two prisoners in a cell or room.
(2) Where dormitories are used, they shall be occupied by prisoners carefully selected as being suitable to associate with one another in those conditions. There shall be regular supervision by night, in keeping with the nature of the institution.
10. All accommodation provided for the use of prisoners and in particular all sleeping accommodation shall meet all requirements of health, due regard being paid to climatic conditions and particularly to cubic content of air, minimum floor space, lighting, heating and ventilation.
11. In all places where prisoners are required to live or work,
(a) The windows shall be large enough to enable the prisoners to read or work by natural light, and shall be so constructed that they can allow the entrance of fresh air whether or not there is artificial ventilation;
(b) Artificial light shall be provided sufficient for the prisoners to read or work without injury to eyesight.
12. The sanitary installations shall be adequate to enable every prisoner to comply with the needs of nature when necessary and in a clean and decent manner.
13. Adequate bathing and shower installations shall be provided so that every prisoner may be enabled and required to have a bath or shower, at a temperature suitable to the climate, as frequently as necessary for general hygiene according to season and geographical region, but at least once a week in a temperate climate.
14. All parts of an institution regularly used by prisoners shall be properly maintained and kept scrupulously clean at all times.
Personal hygiene
15. Prisoners shall be required to keep their persons clean, and to this end they shall be provided with water and with such toilet articles as are necessary for health and cleanliness.
16. In order that prisoners may maintain a good appearance compatible with their self-respect, facilities shall be provided for the proper care of the hair and beard, and men shall be enabled to shave regularly.
Clothing and bedding
17. (1) Every prisoner who is not allowed to wear his own clothing shall be provided with an outfit of clothing suitable for the climate and adequate to keep him in good health. Such clothing shall in no manner be degrading or humiliating.
(2) All clothing shall be clean and kept in proper condition. Underclothing shall be changed and washed as often as necessary for the maintenance of hygiene.
(3) In exceptional circumstances, whenever a prisoner is removed outside the institution for an authorized purpose, he shall be allowed to wear his own clothing or other inconspicuous clothing.
18. If prisoners are allowed to wear their own clothing, arrangements shall be made on their admission to the institution to ensure that it shall be clean and fit for use.
19. Every prisoner shall, in accordance with local or national standards, be provided with a separate bed, and with separate and sufficient bedding which shall be clean when issued, kept in good order and changed often enough to ensure its cleanliness.
Food
20. (1) Every prisoner shall be provided by the administration at the usual hours with food of nutritional value adequate for health and strength, of wholesome quality and well prepared and served.
(2) Drinking water shall be available to every prisoner whenever he needs it.
Exercise and sport
21. (1) Every prisoner who is not employed in outdoor work shall have at least one hour of suitable exercise in the open air daily if the weather permits.
(2) Young prisoners, and others of suitable age and physique, shall receive physical and recreational training during the period of exercise. To this end space, installations and equipment should be provided.
Medical services
22. (1) At every institution there shall be available the services of at least one qualified medical officer who should have some knowledge of psychiatry. The medical services should be organized in close relationship to the general health administration of the community or nation. They shall include a psychiatric service for the diagnosis and, in proper cases, the treatment of states of mental abnormality.
(2) Sick prisoners who require specialist treatment shall be transferred to specialized institutions or to civil hospitals. Where hospital facilities are provided in an institution, their equipment, furnishings and pharmaceutical supplies shall be proper for the medical care and treatment of sick prisoners, and there shall be a staff of suitable trained officers.
(3) The services of a qualified dental officer shall be available to every prisoner.
23. (1) In women's institutions there shall be special accommodation for all necessary pre-natal and post-natal care and treatment. Arrangements shall be made wherever practicable for children to be born in a hospital outside the institution. If a child is born in prison, this fact shall not be mentioned in the birth certificate.
(2) Where nursing infants are allowed to remain in the institution with their mothers, provision shall be made for a nursery staffed by qualified persons, where the infants shall be placed when they are not in the care of their mothers.
24. The medical officer shall see and examine every prisoner as soon as possible after his admission and thereafter as necessary, with a view particularly to the discovery of physical or mental illness and the taking of all necessary measures; the segregation of prisoners suspected of infectious or contagious conditions; the noting of physical or mental defects which might hamper rehabilitation, and the determination of the physical capacity of every prisoner for work.
25. (1) The medical officer shall have the care of the physical and mental health of the prisoners and should daily see all sick prisoners, all who complain of illness, and any prisoner to whom his attention is specially directed.
(2) The medical officer shall report to the director whenever he considers that a prisoner's physical or mental health has been or will be injuriously affected by continued imprisonment or by any condition of imprisonment.
26. (1) The medical officer shall regularly inspect and advise the director upon:
(a) The quantity, quality, preparation and service of food;
(b) The hygiene and cleanliness of the institution and the prisoners;
(c) The sanitation, heating, lighting and ventilation of the institution;
(d) The suitability and cleanliness of the prisoners' clothing and bedding;
(e) The observance of the rules concerning physical education and sports, in cases where there is no technical personnel in charge of these activities.
(2) The director shall take into consideration the reports and advice that the medical officer submits according to rules 25 (2) and 26 and, in case he concurs with the recommendations made, shall take immediate steps to give effect to those recommendations; if they are not within his competence or if he does not concur with them, he shall immediately submit his own report and the advice of the medical officer to higher authority.
Discipline and punishment
27. Discipline and order shall be maintained with firmness, but with no more restriction than is necessary for safe custody and well-ordered community life.
28. (1) No prisoner shall be employed, in the service of the institution, in any disciplinary capacity.
(2) This rule shall not, however, impede the proper functioning of systems based on self-government, under which specified social, educational or sports activities or responsibilities are entrusted, under supervision, to prisoners who are formed into groups for the purposes of treatment.
29. The following shall always be determined by the law or by the regulation of the competent administrative authority:
(a) Conduct constituting a disciplinary offence;
(b) The types and duration of punishment which may be inflicted;
(c) The authority competent to impose such punishment.
30. (1) No prisoner shall be punished except in accordance with the terms of such law or regulation, and never twice for the same offence.
(2) No prisoner shall be punished unless he has been informed of the offence alleged against him and given a proper opportunity of presenting his defence. The competent authority shall conduct a thorough examination of the case.
(3) Where necessary and practicable the prisoner shall be allowed to make his defence through an interpreter.
31. Corporal punishment, punishment by placing in a dark cell, and all cruel, inhuman or degrading punishments shall be completely prohibited as punishments for disciplinary offences.
32. (1) Punishment by close confinement or reduction of diet shall never be inflicted unless the medical officer has examined the prisoner and certified in writing that he is fit to sustain it.
(2) The same shall apply to any other punishment that may be prejudicial to the physical or mental health of a prisoner. In no case may such punishment be contrary to or depart from the principle stated in rule 31.
(3) The medical officer shall visit daily prisoners undergoing such punishments and shall advise the director if he considers the termination or alteration of the punishment necessary on grounds of physical or mental health.
Instruments of restraint
33. Instruments of restraint, such as handcuffs, chains, irons and strait-jackets, shall never be applied as a punishment. Furthermore, chains or irons shall not be used as restraints. Other instruments of restraint shall not be used except in the following circumstances:
(a) As a precaution against escape during a transfer, provided that they shall be removed when the prisoner appears before a judicial or administrative authority;
(b) On medical grounds by direction of the medical officer;
(c) By order of the director, if other methods of control fail, in order to prevent a prisoner from injuring himself or others or from damaging property; in such instances the director shall at once consult the medical officer and report to the higher administrative authority.
34. The patterns and manner of use of instruments of restraint shall be decided by the central prison administration. Such instruments must not be applied for any longer time than is strictly necessary.
Information to and complaints by prisoners
35. (1) Every prisoner on admission shall be provided with written information about the regulations governing the treatment of prisoners of his category, the disciplinary requirements of the institution, the authorized methods of seeking information and making complaints, and all such other matters as are necessary to enable him to understand both his rights and his obligations and to adapt himself to the life of the institution.
(2) If a prisoner is illiterate, the aforesaid information shall be conveyed to him orally.
36. (1) Every prisoner shall have the opportunity each week day of making requests or complaints to the director of the institution or the officer authorized to represent him.
(2) It shall be possible to make requests or complaints to the inspector of prisons during his inspection. The prisoner shall have the opportunity to talk to the inspector or to any other inspecting officer without the director or other members of the staff being present.
(3) Every prisoner shall be allowed to make a request or complaint, without censorship as to substance but in proper form, to the central prison administration, the judicial authority or other proper authorities through approved channels.
(4) Unless it is evidently frivolous or groundless, every request or complaint shall be promptly dealt with and replied to without undue delay.
Contact with the outside world
37. Prisoners shall be allowed under necessary supervision to communicate with their family and reputable friends at regular intervals, both by correspondence and by receiving visits.
38. (1) Prisoners who are foreign nationals shall be allowed reasonable facilities to communicate with the diplomatic and consular representatives of the State to which they belong.
(2) Prisoners who are nationals of States without diplomatic or consular representation in the country and refugees or stateless persons shall be allowed similar facilities to communicate with the diplomatic representative of the State which takes charge of their interests or any national or international authority whose task it is to protect such persons.
39. Prisoners shall be kept informed regularly of the more important items of news by the reading of newspapers, periodicals or special institutional publications, by hearing wireless transmissions, by lectures or by any similar means as authorized or controlled by the administration.
Books
40. Every institution shall have a library for the use of all categories of prisoners, adequately stocked with both recreational and instructional books, and prisoners shall be encouraged to make full use of it.
Religion
41. (1) If the institution contains a sufficient number of prisoners of the same religion, a qualified representative of that religion shall be appointed or approved. If the number of prisoners justifies it and conditions permit, the arrangement should be on a full-time basis.
(2) A qualified representative appointed or approved under paragraph (1) shall be allowed to hold regular services and to pay pastoral visits in private to prisoners of his religion at proper times.
(3) Access to a qualified representative of any religion shall not be refused to any prisoner. On the other hand, if any prisoner should object to a visit of any religious representative, his attitude shall be fully respected.
42. So far as practicable, every prisoner shall be allowed to satisfy the needs of his religious life by attending the services provided in the institution and having in his possession the books of religious observance and instruction of his denomination.
Retention of prisoners' property
43. (1) All money, valuables, clothing and other effects belonging to a prisoner which under the regulations of the institution he is not allowed to retain shall on his admission to the institution be placed in safe custody. An inventory thereof shall be signed by the prisoner. Steps shall be taken to keep them in good condition.
(2) On the release of the prisoner all such articles and money shall be returned to him except in so far as he has been authorized to spend money or send any such property out of the institution, or it has been found necessary on hygienic grounds to destroy any article of clothing. The prisoner shall sign a receipt for the articles and money returned to him.
(3) Any money or effects received for a prisoner from outside shall be treated in the same way.
(4) If a prisoner brings in any drugs or medicine, the medical officer shall decide what use shall be made of them.
Notification of death, illness, transfer, etc.
44. (1) Upon the death or serious illness of, or serious injury to a prisoner, or his removal to an institution for the treatment of mental affections, the director shall at once inform the spouse, if the prisoner is married, or the nearest relative and shall in any event inform any other person previously designated by the prisoner.
(2) A prisoner shall be informed at once of the death or serious illness of any near relative. In case of the critical illness of a near relative, the prisoner should be authorized, whenever circumstances allow, to go to his bedside either under escort or alone.
(3) Every prisoner shall have the right to inform at once his family of his imprisonment or his transfer to another institution.
Removal of prisoners
45. (1) When the prisoners are being removed to or from an institution, they shall be exposed to public view as little as possible, and proper safeguards shall be adopted to protect them from insult, curiosity and publicity in any form.
(2) The transport of prisoners in conveyances with inadequate ventilation or light, or in any way which would subject them to unnecessary physical hardship, shall be prohibited.
(3) The transport of prisoners shall be carried out at the expense of the administration and equal conditions shall obtain for all of them.
Institutional personnel
46. (1) The prison administration shall provide for the careful selection of every grade of the personnel, since it is on their integrity, humanity, professional capacity and personal suitability for the work that the proper administration of the institutions depends.
(2) The prison administration shall constantly seek to awaken and maintain in the minds both of the personnel and of the public the conviction that this work is a social service of great importance, and to this end all appropriate means of informing the public should be used.
(3) To secure the foregoing ends, personnel shall be appointed on a full-time basis as professional prison officers and have civil service status with security of tenure subject only to good conduct, efficiency and physical fitness. Salaries shall be adequate to attract and retain suitable men and women; employment benefits and conditions of service shall be favourable in view of the exacting nature of the work.
47. (1) The personnel shall possess an adequate standard of education and intelligence.
(2) Before entering on duty, the personnel shall be given a course of training in their general and specific duties and be required to pass theoretical and practical tests.
(3) After entering on duty and during their career, the personnel shall maintain and improve their knowledge and professional capacity by attending courses of in-service training to be organized at suitable intervals.
48. All members of the personnel shall at all times so conduct themselves and perform their duties as to influence the prisoners for good by their example and to command their respect.
49. (1) So far as possible, the personnel shall include a sufficient number of specialists such as psychiatrists, psychologists, social workers, teachers and trade instructors.
(2) The services of social workers, teachers and trade instructors shall be secured on a permanent basis, without thereby excluding part-time or voluntary workers.
50. (1) The director of an institution should be adequately qualified for his task by character, administrative ability, suitable training and experience.
(2) He shall devote his entire time to his official duties and shall not be appointed on a part-time basis.
(3) He shall reside on the premises of the institution or in its immediate vicinity.
(4) When two or more institutions are under the authority of one director, he shall visit each of them at frequent intervals. A responsible resident official shall be in charge of each of these institutions.
51. (1) The director, his deputy, and the majority of the other personnel of the institution shall be able to speak the language of the greatest number of prisoners, or a language understood by the greatest number of them.
(2) Whenever necessary, the services of an interpreter shall be used.
52. (1) In institutions which are large enough to require the services of one or more full-time medical officers, at least one of them shall reside on the premises of the institution or in its immediate vicinity.
(2) In other institutions the medical officer shall visit daily and shall reside near enough to be able to attend without delay in cases of urgency.
53. (1) In an institution for both men and women, the part of the institution set aside for women shall be under the authority of a responsible woman officer who shall have the custody of the keys of all that part of the institution.
(2) No male member of the staff shall enter the part of the institution set aside for women unless accompanied by a woman officer.
(3) Women prisoners shall be attended and supervised only by women officers. This does not, however, preclude male members of the staff, particularly doctors and teachers, from carrying out their professional duties in institutions or parts of institutions set aside for women.
54. (1) Officers of the institutions shall not, in their relations with the prisoners, use force except in self-defence or in cases of attempted escape, or active or passive physical resistance to an order based on law or regulations. Officers who have recourse to force must use no more than is strictly necessary and must report the incident immediately to the director of the institution.
(2) Prison officers shall be given special physical training to enable them to restrain aggressive prisoners.
(3) Except in special circumstances, staff performing duties which bring them into direct contact with prisoners should not be armed. Furthermore, staff should in no circumstances be provided with arms unless they have been trained in their use.
Inspection
55. There shall be a regular inspection of penal institutions and services by qualified and experienced inspectors appointed by a competent authority. Their task shall be in particular to ensure that these institutions are administered in accordance with existing laws and regulations and with a view to bringing about the objectives of penal and correctional services.
Part II
RULES APPLICABLE TO SPECIAL CATEGORIES
A. Prisoners under sentence
Guiding principles
56. The guiding principles hereafter are intended to show the spirit in which penal institutions should be administered and the purposes at which they should aim, in accordance with the declaration made under Preliminary Observation 1 of the present text.
57. Imprisonment and other measures which result in cutting off an offender from the outside world are afflictive by the very fact of taking from the person the right of self-determination by depriving him of his liberty. Therefore the prison system shall not, except as incidental to justifiable segregation or the maintenance of discipline, aggravate the suffering inherent in such a situation.
58. The purpose and justification of a sentence of imprisonment or a similar measure deprivative of liberty is ultimately to protect society against crime. This end can only be achieved if the period of imprisonment is used to ensure, so far as possible, that upon his return to society the offender is not only willing but able to lead a law-abiding and self-supporting life.
59. To this end, the institution should utilize all the remedial, educational, moral, spiritual and other forces and forms of assistance which are appropriate and available, and should seek to apply them according to the individual treatment needs of the prisoners.
60. (1) The regime of the institution should seek to minimize any differences between prison life and life at liberty which tend to lessen the responsibility of the prisoners or the respect due to their dignity as human beings.
(2) Before the completion of the sentence, it is desirable that the necessary steps be taken to ensure for the prisoner a gradual return to life in society. This aim may be achieved, depending on the case, by a pre-release regime organized in the same institution or in another appropriate institution, or by release on trial under some kind of supervision which must not be entrusted to the police but should be combined with effective social aid.
61. The treatment of prisoners should emphasize not their exclusion from the community, but their continuing part in it. Community agencies should, therefore, be enlisted wherever possible to assist the staff of the institution in the task of social rehabilitation of the prisoners. There should be in connection with every institution social workers charged with the duty of maintaining and improving all desirable relations of a prisoner with his family and with valuable social agencies. Steps should be taken to safeguard, to the maximum extent compatible with the law and the sentence, the rights relating to civil interests, social security rights and other social benefits of prisoners.
62. The medical services of the institution shall seek to detect and shall treat any physical or mental illnesses or defects which may hamper a prisoner's rehabilitation. All necessary medical, surgical and psychiatric services shall be provided to that end.
63. (1) The fulfilment of these principles requires individualization of treatment and for this purpose a flexible system of classifying prisoners in groups; it is therefore desirable that such groups should be distributed in separate institutions suitable for the treatment of each group.
(2) These institutions need not provide the same degree of security for every group. It is desirable to provide varying degrees of security according to the needs of different groups. Open institutions, by the very fact that they provide no physical security against escape but rely on the self-discipline of the inmates, provide the conditions most favourable to rehabilitation for carefully selected prisoners.
(3) It is desirable that the number of prisoners in closed institutions should not be so large that the individualization of treatment is hindered. In some countries it is considered that the population of such institutions should not exceed five hundred. In open institutions the population should be as small as possible.
(4) On the other hand, it is undesirable to maintain prisons which are so small that proper facilities cannot be provided.
64. The duty of society does not end with a prisoner's release. There should, therefore, be governmental or private agencies capable of lending the released prisoner efficient after-care directed towards the lessening of prejudice against him and towards his social rehabilitation.
Treatment
65. The treatment of persons sentenced to imprisonment or a similar measure shall have as its purpose, so far as the length of the sentence permits, to establish in them the will to lead law-abiding and self-supporting lives after their release and to fit them to do so. The treatment shall be such as will encourage their self-respect and develop their sense of responsibility.
66. (1) To these ends, all appropriate means shall be used, including religious care in the countries where this is possible, education, vocational guidance and training, social casework, employment counselling, physical development and strengthening of moral character, in accordance with the individual needs of each prisoner, taking account of his social and criminal history, his physical and mental capacities and aptitudes, his personal temperament, the length of his sentence and his prospects after release.
(2) For every prisoner with a sentence of suitable length, the director shall receive, as soon as possible after his admission, full reports on all the matters referred to in the foregoing paragraph. Such reports shall always include a report by a medical officer, wherever possible qualified in psychiatry, on the physical and mental condition of the prisoner.
(3) The reports and other relevant documents shall be placed in an individual file. This file shall be kept up to date and classified in such a way that it can be consulted by the responsible personnel whenever the need arises.
Classification and individualization
67. The purposes of classification shall be:
(a) To separate from others those prisoners who, by reason of their criminal records or bad characters, are likely to exercise a bad influence;
(b) To divide the prisoners into classes in order to facilitate their treatment with a view to their social rehabilitation.
68. So far as possible separate institutions or separate sections of an institution shall be used for the treatment of the different classes of prisoners.
69. As soon as possible after admission and after a study of the personality of each prisoner with a sentence of suitable length, a programme of treatment shall be prepared for him in the light of the knowledge obtained about his individual needs, his capacities and dispositions.
Privileges
70. Systems of privileges appropriate for the different classes of prisoners and the different methods of treatment shall be established at every institution, in order to encourage good conduct, develop a sense of responsibility and secure the interest and co-operation of the prisoners in their treatment.
Work
71. (1) Prison labour must not be of an afflictive nature.
(2) All prisoners under sentence shall be required to work, subject to their physical and mental fitness as determined by the medical officer.
(3) Sufficient work of a useful nature shall be provided to keep prisoners actively employed for a normal working day.
(4) So far as possible the work provided shall be such as will maintain or increase the prisoners, ability to earn an honest living after release.
(5) Vocational training in useful trades shall be provided for prisoners able to profit thereby and especially for young prisoners.
(6) Within the limits compatible with proper vocational selection and with the requirements of institutional administration and discipline, the prisoners shall be able to choose the type of work they wish to perform.
72. (1) The organization and methods of work in the institutions shall resemble as closely as possible those of similar work outside institutions, so as to prepare prisoners for the conditions of normal occupational life.
(2) The interests of the prisoners and of their vocational training, however, must not be subordinated to the purpose of making a financial profit from an industry in the institution.
73. (1) Preferably institutional industries and farms should be operated directly by the administration and not by private contractors.
(2) Where prisoners are employed in work not controlled by the administration, they shall always be under the supervision of the institution's personnel. Unless the work is for other departments of the government the full normal wages for such work shall be paid to the administration by the persons to whom the labour is supplied, account being taken of the output of the prisoners.
74. (1) The precautions laid down to protect the safety and health of free workmen shall be equally observed in institutions.
(2) Provision shall be made to indemnify prisoners against industrial injury, including occupational disease, on terms not less favourable than those extended by law to free workmen.
75. (1) The maximum daily and weekly working hours of the prisoners shall be fixed by law or by administrative regulation, taking into account local rules or custom in regard to the employment of free workmen.
(2) The hours so fixed shall leave one rest day a week and sufficient time for education and other activities required as part of the treatment and rehabilitation of the prisoners.
76. (1) There shall be a system of equitable remuneration of the work of prisoners.
(2) Under the system prisoners shall be allowed to spend at least a part of their earnings on approved articles for their own use and to send a part of their earnings to their family.
(3) The system should also provide that a part of the earnings should be set aside by the administration so as to constitute a savings fund to be handed over to the prisoner on his release.
Education and recreation
77. (1) Provision shall be made for the further education of all prisoners capable of profiting thereby, including religious instruction in the countries where this is possible. The education of illiterates and young prisoners shall be compulsory and special attention shall be paid to it by the administration.
(2) So far as practicable, the education of prisoners shall be integrated with the educational system of the country so that after their release they may continue their education without difficulty.
78. Recreational and cultural activities shall be provided in all institutions for the benefit of the mental and physical health of prisoners.
Social relations and after-care
79. Special attention shall be paid to the maintenance and improvement of such relations between a prisoner and his family as are desirable in the best interests of both.
80. From the beginning of a prisoner's sentence consideration shall be given to his future after release and he shall be encouraged and assisted to maintain or establish such relations with persons or agencies outside the institution as may promote the best interests of his family and his own social rehabilitation.
81. (1) Services and agencies, governmental or otherwise, which assist released prisoners to re-establish themselves in society shall ensure, so far as is possible and necessary, that released prisoners be provided with appropriate documents and identification papers, have suitable s and work to go to, are suitably and adequately clothed having regard to the climate and season, and have sufficient means to reach their destination and maintain themselves in the period immediately following their release.
(2) The approved representatives of such agencies shall have all necessary access to the institution and to prisoners and shall be taken into consultation as to the future of a prisoner from the beginning of his sentence.
(3) It is desirable that the activities of such agencies shall be centralized or co-ordinated as far as possible in order to secure the best use of their efforts.
B. Insane and mentally abnormal prisoners
82. (1) Persons who are found to be insane shall not be detained in prisons and arrangements shall be made to remove them to mental institutions as soon as possible.
(2) Prisoners who suffer from other mental diseases or abnormalities shall be observed and treated in specialized institutions under medical management.
(3) During their stay in a prison, such prisoners shall be placed under the special supervision of a medical officer.
(4) The medical or psychiatric service of the penal institutions shall provide for the psychiatric treatment of all other prisoners who are in need of such treatment.
83. It is desirable that steps should be taken, by arrangement with the appropriate agencies, to ensure if necessary the continuation of psychiatric treatment after release and the provision of social-psychiatric after-care.
C. Prisoners under arrest or awaiting trial
84. (1) Persons arrested or imprisoned by reason of a criminal charge against them, who are detained either in police custody or in prison custody (jail) but have not yet been tried and sentenced, will be referred to as "untried prisoners" hereinafter in these rules.
(2) Unconvicted prisoners are presumed to be innocent and shall be treated as such.
(3) Without prejudice to legal rules for the protection of individual liberty or prescribing the procedure to be observed in respect of untried prisoners, these prisoners shall benefit by a special regime which is described in the following rules in its essential requirements only.
85. (1) Untried prisoners shall be kept separate from convicted prisoners.
(2) Young untried prisoners shall be kept separate from adults and shall in principle be detained in separate institutions.
86. Untried prisoners shall sleep singly in separate rooms, with the reservation of different local custom in respect of the climate.
87. Within the limits compatible with the good order of the institution, untried prisoners may, if they so desire, have their food procured at their own expense from the outside, either through the administration or through their family or friends. Otherwise, the administration shall provide their food.
88. (1) An untried prisoner shall be allowed to wear his own clothing if it is clean and suitable.
(2) If he wears prison dress, it shall be different from that supplied to convicted prisoners.
89. An untried prisoner shall always be offered opportunity to work, but shall not be required to work. If he chooses to work, he shall be paid for it.
90. An untried prisoner shall be allowed to procure at his own expense or at the expense of a third party such books, newspapers, writing materials and other means of occupation as are compatible with the interests of the administration of justice and the security and good order of the institution.
91. An untried prisoner shall be allowed to be visited and treated by his own doctor or dentist if there is reasonable ground for his application and he is able to pay any expenses incurred.
92. An untried prisoner shall be allowed to inform immediately his family of his detention and shall be given all reasonable facilities for communicating with his family and friends, and for receiving visits from them, subject only to restrictions and supervision as are necessary in the interests of the administration of justice and of the security and good order of the institution.
93. For the purposes of his defence, an untried prisoner shall be allowed to apply for free legal aid where such aid is available, and to receive visits from his legal adviser with a view to his defence and to prepare and hand to him confidential instructions. For these purposes, he shall if he so desires be supplied with writing material. Interviews between the prisoner and his legal adviser may be within sight but not within the hearing of a police or institution official.
D. Civil prisoners
94. In countries where the law permits imprisonment for debt, or by order of a court under any other non-criminal process, persons so imprisoned shall not be subjected to any greater restriction or severity than is necessary to ensure safe custody and good order. Their treatment shall be not less favourable than that of untried prisoners, with the reservation, however, that they may possibly be required to work.
E. Persons arrested or detained without charge
95. Without prejudice to the provisions of article 9 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, persons arrested or imprisoned without charge shall be accorded the same protection as that accorded under part I and part II, section C. Relevant provisions of part II, section A, shall likewise be applicable where their application may be conducive to the benefit of this special group of persons in custody, provided that no measures shall be taken implying that re-education or rehabilitation is in any way appropriate to persons not convicted of any criminal offence.


--------------

Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology
Volume 35Issue 5Article 21945
Prison Trade School--Students and Training , A


-----------------------


scholarlycommons.law.northwestern.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=3305&context=jclc
the trade training work in our prisons been worth its cost in effort and money? .... training for Men who have passed their youth, than can be learned in your school . I guess ..... as parole violators with an added, or new, sentence, and the rest.
-------------

Mental Illness and Prisoners: Concerns for Communities and ...

www.nursingworld.org/MainMenuCategories/ANAMarketplace/ANAPeriodicals/OJIN/TableofContents/Vol-20-2015/No1-Jan-2015/Mental-Illness-and-Prisoners.html
Jan 31, 2015 ... Mentally ill individuals often find themselves in less than ideal ... Inmate X was born to working class parents and grew up with two ... on prison budgets is from altering sentences and release policies, ..... Inmates may trade for commissary items, cash, or contraband items such as alcohol or illicit substances.
------------------



Helpful Resources

Effective Treatment Measures for Prisoners to Facilitate their ...

www.unafei.or.jp
physically secure the prisoner (in custody). (remand and trial ... technical training are prepared for trade certification tests at the ..... strong prisoners get the chance to work outside. Even in the yard, ... passing sentence on them, make an order.

Time to Learn: Prisoners' Views on Prison ... - Prison Reform Trust

www.prisonreformtrust.org.uk
2.1 What courses were available in the prisons visited? .... qualifications they need to hold down a job and have a positive role in society, and that the .... provision for the individual prisoner before, after and during their sentence. ... “ The cut of 50% in recent years in the provision for training in the construction trades repor...

Prisoners' Work and Vocational Training Frances H.Simon - eBooks

samples.sainsburysebooks.co.uk
Most prisoners serving in British prisons are required to work. Does this work help them to serve their sentences, and does it help them to get employment when they are released? ..... incentives to both staff and prisoners depending on trade.
---------

Inmate Rule Book - North Carolina Department of Corrections

www.doc.state.nc.us/Publications/inmate rule book.pdf
Items 1 - 7 ... DIRECTOR OF PRISONS- The person who is in charge of all prisons in the state. ... INDETERMINATE SENTENCE- A sentence that has two parts - a lesser ( minimum) ... INTENSIVE CONTROL- An assignment status for inmates who have .... Inmates in Minimum Custody, Level One may work on the grounds and.
-----------------

Prison workers in Germany are organising - Equal Times

www.equaltimes.org
Mar 2, 2015 ... When Oliver Rast, together with a fellow prisoner, created the prison workers' ... Since completing his three-year sentence in September 2014, ... That is one of the central demands of the trade union created last year. ... so working in prison gives them a better chance of getting back into the labour market.”.

Prisoners Learning Barber Trade in Jail - latimes

articles.latimes.com
Oct 3, 2001 ... Prisoners Learning Barber Trade in Jail ... "They told me my [sentence] reconsideration came up. ... "The tip is you don't have to pay for the program, and [you get] a job," said Monique Hood, 29, who is doing time on an assault ...

Rewarding good behavior of prisoners is a benefit to society, expert ...

phys.org
Oct 7, 2015 ... However, reducing the operational costs of prisons is possible when good ... of a sentence to a period of parole, and privileges granted while in jail. ... "If a privilege is to now have three calls home to family per week, rather than ... as assaulting guards, refusing to perform work tasks and possessing drugs.
---------------------------

'Prison is not for punishment in Sweden. We get people into better ...

www.theguardian.com
Nov 26, 2014 ... Erwin James: With prisoner numbers falling and jails closing, ... The punishment is the prison sentence: they have been deprived of their ... in a yearly letter of intent, and then the responsibility for the work is entirely ours.” ...... The problem with the British justice system is nationaisation and trade unions.

Served your time in prison and looking for a job? You're out of luck ...

www.theguardian.com
Jul 25, 2012 ... Few ex-prisoners in the US manage to secure employment after ... from prison three years ago, he was determined to find a job, his first ... He was 45 years old and had been in prison since he was 16, serving out a 25 to life sentence for ..... job is more profitable for most people working in the drug trade.
----------------

Wonkbook: 11 facts about America's prison population - The ...

www.washingtonpost.com/news/wonk/wp/2013/08/13/wonkbook-11-facts-about-americas-prison-population/
Aug 13, 2013 ... The average inmate in maximum-security federal prisons costs $33,000 ... He also introduced a policy to reduce sentences for elderly, nonviolent inmates and find .... We should also do much better at job training and retraining, and at .... Trade with developing countries just got more expensive, thanks to ...
----------

What We Can Learn From Japanese Prisons | Jim Webb

www.jameswebb.com/articles/economic-fairness-social-justice/what-we-can-learn-from-japanese-prisons
Jan 15, 1984 ... January 15, 1984by James Webb, Parade Magazine Fuchu Prison, near Tokyo is ... inmates, about 100 of whom at any time are Americans serving sentences for ... There have been only 35 escapes from Japanese prisons in the last seven ... Few prisoners work in the U.S. jails because of trade – union ...
--------------------

The Prison Industry in the United States: Big Business or a New Form of Slavery?

Human rights organizations, as well as political and social ones, are condemning what they are calling a new form of inhumane exploitation in the United States, where they say a prison population of up to 2 million – mostly Black and Hispanic – are working for various industries for a pittance. For the tycoons who have invested in the prison industry, it has been like finding a pot of gold. They don’t have to worry about strikes or paying unemployment insurance, vacations or comp time. All of their workers are full-time, and never arrive late or are absent because of family problems; moreover, if they don’t like the pay of 25 cents an hour and refuse to work, they are locked up in isolation cells.
There are approximately 2 million inmates in state, federal and private prisons throughout the country. According to California Prison Focus, “no other society in human history has imprisoned so many of its own citizens.”
The figures show that the United States has locked up more people than any other country: a half million more than China, which has a population five times greater than the U.S. Statistics reveal that the United States holds 25% of the world’s prison population, but only 5% of the world’s people. From less than 300,000 inmates in 1972, the jail population grew to 2 million by the year 2000. In 1990 it was one million. Ten years ago there were only five private prisons in the country, with a population of 2,000 inmates; now, there are 100, with 62,000 inmates. It is expected that by the coming decade, the number will hit 360,000, according to reports.
What has happened over the last 10 years? Why are there so many prisoners?
“The private contracting of prisoners for work fosters incentives to lock people up. Prisons depend on this income. Corporate stockholders who make money off prisoners’ work lobby for longer sentences, in order to expand their workforce. The system feeds itself,” says a study by the Progressive Labor Party, which accuses the prison industry of being “an imitation of Nazi Germany with respect to forced slave labor and concentration camps.”
The prison industry complex is one of the fastest-growing industries in the United States and its investors are on Wall Street. “This multimillion-dollar industry has its own trade exhibitions, conventions, websites, and mail-order/Internet catalogs. It also has direct advertising campaigns, architecture companies, construction companies, investment houses on Wall Street, plumbing supply companies, food supply companies, armed security, and padded cells in a large variety of colors.”
CRIME GOES DOWN, JAIL POPULATION GOES UP
According to reports by human rights organizations, these are the factors that increase the profit potential for those who invest in the prison industry complex:
. Jailing persons convicted of non-violent crimes, and long prison sentences for possession of microscopic quantities of illegal drugs. Federal law stipulates five years’ imprisonment without possibility of parole for possession of 5 grams of crack or 3.5 ounces of heroin, and 10 years for possession of less than 2 ounces of rock-cocaine or crack. A sentence of 5 years for cocaine powder requires possession of 500 grams – 100 times more than the quantity of rock cocaine for the same sentence. Most of those who use cocaine powder are white, middle-class or rich people, while mostly Blacks and Latinos use rock cocaine. In Texas, a person may be sentenced for up to two years’ imprisonment for possessing 4 ounces of marijuana. Here in New York, the 1973 Nelson Rockefeller anti-drug law provides for a mandatory prison sentence of 15 years to life for possession of 4 ounces of any illegal drug.
. The passage in 13 states of the “three strikes” laws (life in prison after being convicted of three felonies), made it necessary to build 20 new federal prisons. One of the most disturbing cases resulting from this measure was that of a prisoner who for stealing a car and two bicycles received three 25-year sentences.
. Longer sentences.
. The passage of laws that require minimum sentencing, without regard for circumstances.
. A large expansion of work by prisoners creating profits that motivate the incarceration of more people for longer periods of time.
. More punishment of prisoners, so as to lengthen their sentences.
HISTORY OF PRISON LABOR IN THE UNITED STATES
Prison labor has its roots in slavery. After the 1861-1865 Civil War, a system of “hiring out prisoners” was introduced in order to continue the slavery tradition. Freed slaves were charged with not carrying out their sharecropping commitments (cultivating someone else’s land in exchange for part of the harvest) or petty thievery – which were almost never proven – and were then “hired out” for cotton picking, working in mines and building railroads. From 1870 until 1910 in the state of Georgia, 88% of hired-out convicts were Black. In Alabama, 93% of “hired-out” miners were Black. In Mississippi, a huge prison farm similar to the old slave plantations replaced the system of hiring out convicts. The notorious Parchman plantation existed until 1972.
During the post-Civil War period, Jim Crow racial segregation laws were imposed on every state, with legal segregation in schools, housing, marriages and many other aspects of daily life. “Today, a new set of markedly racist laws is imposing slave labor and sweatshops on the criminal justice system, now known as the prison industry complex,” comments the Left Business Observer.
Who is investing?
At least 37 states have legalized the contracting of prison labor by private corporations that mount their operations inside state prisons. The list of such companies contains the cream of U.S. corporate society: IBM, Boeing, Motorola, Microsoft, AT&T, Wireless, Texas Instrument, Dell, Compaq, Honeywell, Hewlett-Packard, Nortel, Lucent Technologies, 3Com, Intel, Northern Telecom, TWA, Nordstrom’s, Revlon, Macy’s, Pierre Cardin, Target Stores, and many more. All of these businesses are excited about the economic boom generation by prison labor. Just between 1980 and 1994, profits went up from $392 million to $1.31 billion. Inmates in state penitentiaries generally receive the minimum wage for their work, but not all; in Colorado, they get about $2 per hour, well under the minimum.
And in privately-run prisons, they receive as little as 17 cents per hour for a maximum of six hours a day, the equivalent of $20 per month. The highest-paying private prison is CCA in Tennessee, where prisoners receive 50 cents per hour for what they call “highly skilled positions.” At those rates, it is no surprise that inmates find the pay in federal prisons to be very generous. There, they can earn $1.25 an hour and work eight hours a day, and sometimes overtime. They can send home $200-$300 per month.
Thanks to prison labor, the United States is once again an attractive location for investment in work that was designed for Third World labor markets. A company that operated a maquiladora (assembly plant in Mexico near the border) closed down its operations there and relocated to San Quentin State Prison in California. In Texas, a factory fired its 150 workers and contracted the services of prisoner-workers from the private Lockhart Texas prison, where circuit boards are assembled for companies like IBM and Compaq.
[Former] Oregon State Representative Kevin Mannix recently urged Nike to cut its production in Indonesia and bring it to his state, telling the shoe manufacturer that “there won’t be any transportation costs; we’re offering you competitive prison labor (here).”
PRIVATE PRISONS
The prison privatization boom began in the 1980s, under the governments of Ronald Reagan and Bush Sr., but reached its height in 1990 under William Clinton, when Wall Street stocks were selling like hotcakes. Clinton’s program for cutting the federal workforce resulted in the Justice Departments contracting of private prison corporations for the incarceration of undocumented workers and high-security inmates.
Private prisons are the biggest business in the prison industry complex. About 18 corporations guard 10,000 prisoners in 27 states. The two largest are Correctional Corporation of America (CCA) and Wackenhut, which together control 75%. Private prisons receive a guaranteed amount of money for each prisoner, independent of what it costs to maintain each one. According to Russell Boraas, a private prison administrator in Virginia, “the secret to low operating costs is having a minimal number of guards for the maximum number of prisoners.” The CCA has an ultra-modern prison in Lawrenceville, Virginia, where five guards on dayshift and two at night watch over 750 prisoners. In these prisons, inmates may get their sentences reduced for “good behavior,” but for any infraction, they get 30 days added – which means more profits for CCA. According to a study of New Mexico prisons, it was found that CCA inmates lost “good behavior time” at a rate eight times higher than those in state prisons.
IMPORTING AND EXPORTING INMATES
Profits are so good that now there is a new business: importing inmates with long sentences, meaning the worst criminals. When a federal judge ruled that overcrowding in Texas prisons was cruel and unusual punishment, the CCA signed contracts with sheriffs in poor counties to build and run new jails and share the profits. According to a December 1998 Atlantic Monthly magazine article, this program was backed by investors from Merrill-Lynch, Shearson-Lehman, American Express and Allstate, and the operation was scattered all over rural Texas. That state’s governor, Ann Richards, followed the example of Mario Cuomo in New York and built so many state prisons that the market became flooded, cutting into private prison profits.
After a law signed by Clinton in 1996 – ending court supervision and decisions – caused overcrowding and violent, unsafe conditions in federal prisons, private prison corporations in Texas began to contact other states whose prisons were overcrowded, offering “rent-a-cell” services in the CCA prisons located in small towns in Texas. The commission for a rent-a-cell salesman is $2.50 to $5.50 per day per bed. The county gets $1.50 for each prisoner.
STATISTICS
Ninety-seven percent of 125,000 federal inmates have been convicted of non-violent crimes. It is believed that more than half of the 623,000 inmates in municipal or county jails are innocent of the crimes they are accused of. Of these, the majority are awaiting trial. Two-thirds of the one million state prisoners have committed non-violent offenses. Sixteen percent of the country’s 2 million prisoners suffer from mental illness.
The original source of this article is El Diario-La Prensa, New York and Global Research
 Vicky Pelaez, El Diario-La Prensa, New York and Global Research, 2014

--------------





CALIFORNIA - OVERCROWDING ORDER



February 28, 2014

The 2014-15 Budget: Administration’s Response to Prison Overcrowding Order

Summary

In August 2009, a federal three–judge panel ordered the state to reduce its inmate population to no more than 137.5 percent of the design capacity in the prisons operated by the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR). The state was initially given until June 2013 to reach the population cap. Following a series of appeals of the order by the administration, the deadline for reducing the inmate population was ultimately extended to February 26, 2016. The administration’s plan to comply with the court order consists of three primary strategies: (1) contracting for bed space, (2) utilizing funding from the Recidivism Reduction Fund to support initiatives intended to reduce the prison population (such as expanding rehabilitative services), and (3) implementing court–ordered population reduction measures.
Our analysis indicates that the administration’s plan is likely to achieve compliance with the court–ordered population cap in the short run. However, we find that the plan is very costly and may not be able to maintain compliance with the cap in the long run. We also find that the Governor’s proposed expenditures from the Recidivism Reduction Fund raise multiple issues, such as whether the proposals are the most cost–effective way to reduce the state’s prison population. As such, we recommend a variety of modifications to the Governor’s recidivism reduction proposals. In particular, we recommend using a portion of the monies in the Recidivism Reduction Fund to evaluate CDCR’s current rehabilitative programs and to expand an existing grant program that incentivizes counties to reduce prison admissions. In addition, we recommend that the Legislature focus on adopting policies that would (1) ensure that the state will not exceed the court–ordered population cap in the future and (2) reduce the number of contract beds necessary to maintain compliance with the cap. In order to accomplish these goals, we provide some policy options that we think merit legislative consideration.

Background

State Ordered to Reduce Prison Overcrowding. In August 2009, a federal three–judge panel ordered the state to reduce its inmate population to no more than 137.5 percent of the design capacity in the prisons operated by CDCR. (Design capacity generally refers to the number of beds that CDCR would operate if it housed only one inmate per cell. It also does not count inmates housed in contract beds.) Specifically, the court found that prison overcrowding was the primary reason that the state was unable to provide inmates with constitutionally adequate health care. The court’s ruling was upheld by the U.S. Supreme Court in May 2011. The state was initially given until June 2013 to reach the population cap.
Initial State Attempts to Comply With Population Cap. In the years following the three–judge panel’s August 2009 order to reduce prison overcrowding, the state took various actions to reduce the size of its prison population. Some of the actions taken included (1) providing counties a fiscal incentive to reduce the number of felony probationers that fail on probation and are sent to state prison, (2) increasing the number of credits inmates can earn to accelerate their release date from prison, and (3) increasing the dollar threshold for certain property crimes to be considered a felony, thus making fewer offenders eligible for prison. The most significant of these changes, however, happened with the passage of the 2011 realignment which, among other changes, shifted various criminal justice responsibilities from the state to counties. In particular, the 2011 realignment made felons generally ineligible for state prison unless they had a current or prior conviction for a serious, violent, or sex–related offense. By the end of 2012–13, realignment had reduced the prison population by tens of thousands of inmates.
Despite these actions, in May 2012, the administration notified the federal court that the prison population would not be low enough to meet the court–imposed cap. The court subsequently ordered the administration to meet the population cap by April 18, 2014. In September 2013, the Legislature passed and the Governor signed Chapter 310, Statutes of 2013 (SB 105, Steinberg), which provided CDCR with an additional $315 million in General Fund support in 2013–14 and authorized the department to enter into contracts to secure a sufficient amount of inmate housing to meet the court order and to avoid the early release of inmates which might otherwise be necessary to comply with the order. The measure also required that if the federal court modified its order capping the prison population, a share of the $315 million appropriation in Chapter 310 would be deposited into a newly established Recidivism Reduction Fund. As we discuss below, the Governor’s budget assumes that the court would extend the population cap by two years.
Court Extends Deadline to Meet Population Cap. In January 2014, the Governor requested that the court extend the deadline to reduce the prison population from April 18, 2014 to February 28, 2016. The court subsequently granted the extension. Specifically, the court ordered the state to reduce its prison population to:
  • 143 percent of design capacity by June 30, 2014.
  • 141.5 percent of design capacity by February 28, 2015.
  • 137.5 percent of design capacity by February 28, 2016.
The court also plans to appoint a Compliance Officer. If the administration fails to meet any of the above benchmarks, the Compliance Officer would be authorized to order the release of the number of inmates required to meet the benchmark.
In addition, the federal court ordered CDCR to immediately implement certain policy changes and population reduction measures. For example, the court ordered CDCR to activate within a year “reentry hubs” at nine additional prisons that would provide various forms of cognitive behavioral therapy (such as substance abuse treatment), and employment services to high–risk inmates as they near the ends of their sentences. (Currently, four prisons operate such reentry hubs.) The court also ordered the department to explore the expansion of a recently implemented pilot program in which inmates serve the concluding portion of their prison sentence in jail in the county they will be released to. This pilot program currently only operates in San Francisco County. Moreover, the court ordered CDCR not to increase the number of inmates currently housed in out–of–state contract facilities and to make various changes to the parole process. The administration’s plan anticipated the court ordering the two–year population cap extension and these other policy changes. We discuss these changes in further detail below.

Administration’s Plan to Meet Prison Population Cap

The administration’s plan to comply with the court order consists of three primary strategies: (1) contracting for bed space, (2) utilizing funding from the Recidivism Reduction Fund to support initiatives intended to reduce the prison population, and (3) implementing population reduction measures.

Contract Beds

The centerpiece of the administration’s plan to meet the court–ordered prison population cap is the use of in–state and out–of–state contract beds. As shown in Figure 1, the Governor’s budget proposes a total of $481.6 million (primarily from the General Fund) to house about 8,000 inmates in in–state contract beds and above 9,000 inmates in out–of–state contract beds in 2014–15. This represents an increase of $97.1 million and over 4,700 contract beds above the revised 2013–14 level. The Governor’s budget assumes that the two–year extension of the court–ordered population cap deadline will reduce planned expenditures on contract beds by $87.2 million in 2013–14. We note that the administration indicates that it is assessing various options for long–term compliance—as required by Chapter 310—and that this may lead to alternative measures to comply with the population cap in the long run. However, in the absence of such measures, the administration’s current plan would set the state on a course to rely on contract beds indefinitely.
Figure 1
Governor Proposes Funding for Thousands of Additional Contract Beds
(Dollars in Millions)

2013–14

2014–15

Change
Beds
Cost
Beds
Cost
Beds
Cost
Out–of–state contract beds
8,839
$234.3

8,988
$235.2

149
$1.0
In–state contract beds
3,413
150.2

7,985
246.4

4,572
96.2
Totals
12,252
$384.5
16,973
$481.6
4,721
$97.1

Recidivism Reduction Proposals

As noted above, the Governor’s budget assumes that expenditures on contract beds in 2013–14 will be $87.2 million lower than planned. Of this amount, the budget reflects—based on the requirements specified in Chapter 310—a deposit of $81.1 million to the Recidivism Reduction Fund for expenditure in 2014–15. (Chapter 310 requires that the remaining $6.1 million revert to the state General Fund.) Specifically, the Governor proposes allocating the $81.1 million from the Recidivism Reduction Fund as follows:
  • Community Reentry Facilities—$40Million. The budget proposes $40 million for community reentry facilities. These facilities would provide services similar to those in the reentry hubs, but would not be located within a state prison. The administration indicates that inmates with less than six months of their sentence remaining would be transferred to these facilities, which would provide substance abuse treatment, education programs, and employment assistance. The facilities would be located either in county jails or in state, local, or private community facilities. The administration indicates that the facilities would eventually serve a total of 500 inmates.
  • Prison Substance Abuse Treatment Expansion—$11.8Million. The Governor’s budget includes an $11.8 million augmentation and 44 new positions to expand drug treatment services within state prisons in 2014–15. This would increase the total funding for in–prison drug treatment services to $37 million in 2014–15. This augmentation is proposed to increase to $23.9 million and 91 positions in 2015–16. The proposal would expand drug treatment services to ten non–reentry hub institutions in 2014–15 and to all institutions by 2015–16.
  • Integrated Services for Mentally Ill Parolees (ISMIP)—$11.3Million. The budget includes an $11.3 million augmentation for CDCR’s ISMIP program, which was established in 2007 and provides services to parolees suffering from serious mental illness and who are at risk for being homeless. Such services include case management, assistance with applying for entitlement benefits (such as Medi–Cal or veterans benefits), mental health and substance abuse services, and employment assistance. The proposed augmentation would increase total funding for ISMIP to $28 million in 2014–15 and expand the program from 600 to 900 slots.
  • Rehabilitation Programming at In–State Contract Facilities—$9.7Million. The budget includes $9.7 million and 24 new positions (two positions at each contract facility to manage the treatment programs) to begin providing various forms of cognitive behavioral therapy to inmates at the 11 in–state contract facilities and the California City Correctional Center. (California City Correctional Center differs from other in–state contract facilities in that it is staffed by CDCR employees, rather than contract employees.) Specifically, the proposed funding would be used to provide cognitive behavioral therapy services, including substance abuse treatment and therapy for anger management, criminal thinking, and family relations. The funding would establish 4,008 programming slots annually (334 slots at each institution). Each institution would have 46 slots related to family relations programs and 96 slots for each of the other three program types.
  • Northern California Reentry Facility (NCRF)—$8.3Million. The budget includes $8.3 million to fund the design phase of NCRF, which would provide housing and services to 600 inmates when completed. At the time of this analysis, the administration had not provided an estimate of the cost to fully renovate or operate the facility. However, we note that the Governor proposed a similar project in 2010 using funds authorized in Chapter 7, Statutes of 2007 (AB 900, Solorio), and the department indicates that NCRF will be based on the 2010 proposal. In that proposal, the administration estimated that the total cost of renovation would be about $115 million. In addition, the administration estimated that the facility would cost $45 million annually to operate, which is about $90,000 per inmate.

Population Reduction Measures

The administration’s compliance plan also includes a series of measures intended to reduce the state’s prison population. The Governor’s budget proposes $7.1 million from the General Fund to implement these measures. While the measures are expected to achieve state savings upon full implementation from having a lower prison population, the budget does not identify such savings. Instead, the administration indicates that any savings resulting from the measures would be reflected in the department’s annual population budget adjustments. As shown in Figure 2, the administration estimates that the various measures would eventually reduce the prison population by around 2,000 inmates. We note that these measures were ordered by the court. In doing so, the court waived any conflicting statute and, thus, the administration can proceed with them without legislative approval. We discuss each specific measure in greater detail below.
Figure 2
Administration’s Population Reduction Measures—Expected Reduction in Inmates
Proposed Measure
June 30, 2014
(First Population Deadline)
February 28, 2015
(Second Population Deadline)
February 28, 2016
(Final Population Deadline)
Credit enhancements
200
700
1,400
Parole process for second–strikers
175
350
Expanded medical parole
20
70
100
Elderly parole
50
70
85
Expanded alternative custody for women
60
80
Totals
270
1,075
2,015
Credit Enhancements. Under the state’s Three Strikes law, if an offender has one previous serious or violent felony conviction, the sentence for any new felony conviction is twice the term otherwise required under law. Such offenders are called “second strikers.” Second–strike inmates currently can earn sufficient “good–time” credits to reduce their sentence by up to 20 percent by participating in rehabilitative programs and maintaining good behavior. The administration’s plan will allow non–violent second strikers to reduce their sentence by up to 33 percent going forward. During the time these offenders are in the community earlier than they would have otherwise been, state parole agents (rather than county probation officers) will supervise them and any revocation terms will be served in state prison (rather than county jail). Following that time period, these offenders will be supervised in the community by the county, consistent with current law.
The court also ordered that the administration change the amount of credits earned by minimum custody inmates by making such inmates eligible to earn two–for–one credits. However, the court stipulated that these enhanced credit earnings can only be provided if they do not reduce the number of inmates who volunteer for fire camps. This is because fire camps also provide two–for–one credits and employ minimum custody inmates and, thus, it is possible that the change ordered by the court could reduce participation in fire camps.
Parole Process for Second–Strikers. In addition, the administration proposes allowing second strikers to have parole hearings once they have served 50 percent of their prison sentence. The administration also proposes reducing the length of time it takes to schedule parole hearings from 180 to 120 days. Finally, the court ordered CDCR to move up the parole dates of inmates who have already been granted parole, but have not yet been released.
Expanded Medical Parole. Existing state law allows for medical parole, which is a process by which inmates who are permanently incapacitated and require 24–hour care can be paroled earlier than they otherwise would have been. The Governor proposes to expand eligibility for medical parole to include additional inmates. However, at the time of this analysis, the administration had not provided detailed information specifying which additional inmates will be eligible.
Elderly Parole. The Governor also proposes to allow inmates 60 years of age or older who have served a minimum of 25 years of their sentence to have parole hearings to determine if they are suitable for release, commonly referred to as “elderly parole.”
Expanded Alternative Custody for Women. The court ordered CDCR to expand the alternative custody for women program, which places certain nonserious, non–violent, non–sex offending female inmates in the community for a portion of their sentence. At the time of this analysis, the department had not provided information detailing the specific programmatic changes being proposed and how such changes would be implemented.

LAO Assessment of Administration’s Plan

Our analysis indicates that the administration’s plan is likely to achieve compliance with the court–ordered population cap in the short run. However, we find that the plan is very costly and may not be able to maintain compliance with the cap in the long run. We also find that the Governor’s proposed expenditures from the Recidivism Reduction Fund raise multiple issues.

Plan Likely Achieves Compliance in Short Run, But Is Costly and Less Certain in Long Run

In the short–term, the state faces the immediate challenge of reducing the population to 137.5 percent of design capacity by February 2016, as well as meeting two interim population deadlines before that time. To meet these immediate deadlines in the coming months, the state’s options are effectively constrained to (1) contracting with private prisons and jails to house state inmates, as proposed by the Governor; (2) releasing inmates early; or (3) some combination of contracting and early release.
As shown in Figure 3, the administration’s plan is likely to result in compliance with each of the court–ordered population cap deadlines in the short run. Based on CDCR’s current prison population projections, the administration’s plan would bring the population in the state’s prisons below the June 2014 population limit by 2,900 inmates. Similarly, the administration’s plan would bring the population about 2,100 inmates below the February 2015 interim population limit and 1,200 inmates below the final limit in February 2016. Since CDCR’s actual prison population can vary each year from its projections, we find that reducing the population slightly below the limits is a prudent approach.
Figure 3: Administration's Plan Likely to Achieve Compliance With Court Order in Short Run
While the plan is likely to achieve compliance with the court order in the short run, current projections indicate that CDCR is on track to eventually exceed the cap. As shown in Figure 4, CDCR is currently projecting that the prison population will increase by several thousand inmates in the next few years and will reach the cap by June 2018 and exceed it by 1,000 inmates by June 2019. However, we note that this projection is subject to considerable uncertainty. Given the inherent difficulty of accurately projecting the inmate population several years in the future, it is possible that the actual population could be above or below the court imposed limit by several thousand inmates.
Figure 4: Uncertain Whether Plan Would Sustain Long-Run Complaince With Court Order
In addition, we are concerned that the plan’s heavy reliance on contract beds makes it a very costly approach. As we note earlier, the administration is currently considering alternatives to contracting for additional prison beds indefinitely to maintain long–term compliance with the cap. However, until such alternatives are implemented, the state will likely need to continue spending nearly $500 million annually on contract beds in order to maintain compliance with the prison population cap. In contrast, other options available to the Legislature could actually decrease state expenditures, as we discuss later in this brief.

Governor’s Recidivism Reduction Proposals Raise Multiple Issues

Our analysis also finds that the Governor’s proposed expenditures from the Recidivism Reduction Fund raise various concerns. For example, several of the proposals lack important details or are not completely developed. In addition, other proposals are unlikely to be the most cost–effective approach to reducing recidivism.
Proposals Require Ongoing General Fund Support. As described previously, the monies in the Recidivism Reduction Fund were deposited on a one–time basis from the funding appropriated by Chapter 310 that was not used for contract beds. The Governor’s budget proposes to spend all of the Recidivism Reduction Fund in 2014–15 on the various initiatives discussed above. Despite the one–time nature of this funding, all of the Governor’s budget proposals create or expand programs that would require ongoing funding to effectively reduce the prison population. In order for the administration’s plans related to the Recidivism Reduction Fund to be effective, the Legislature would likely need to provide General Fund support for these programs in the future.
ISMIP Program Benefits Unclear. In 2012, CDCR evaluated the impact of the ISMIP program. Specifically, the evaluation compared the rates at which ISMIP participants returned to prison within one year to a similar group of parolees who did not participate in the program. The study found that overall, ISMIP reduced recidivism by 30 percent. However, when the analysis controlled for important factors, such as the seriousness of an offender’s mental illness and whether offenders were connected with services immediately upon parole, the results changed substantially. In particular, the evaluation found that the recidivism rate increased slightly for inmates with less serious mental illnesses and who were connected with services immediately upon parole. While the program seems effective at treating parolees with more serious mental illnesses, it does not appear to be effective for lower acuity parolees. Despite the program’s lack of success with parolees with less serious mental illnesses, the Governor’s budget proposes expanding the program as it is currently operated—meaning that both high and lower acuity parolees would continue to receive ISMIP services.
In recent years, the program cost was an average of approximately $26,500 per slot, which is primarily due to the wide array of services that the program provides. As a result, for the program to be cost–effective, it has to result in a major reduction in the recidivism rate of its participants to fully justify the high costs. Thus, even if the program is targeted to inmates with more serious mental illnesses, it may still not be cost–effective. Also, the recidivism reduction results reported above reflect the program’s impact before the implementation of the 2011 realignment. After realignment, many of these parolees may be ineligible for state prison unless they commit a new felony. As a result, improvements in recidivism may not generate as much state savings or reduce the prison population as they did before realignment when any violation was punished with a prison term. Thus, this raises further questions about the effectiveness of the current program at reducing the state’s prison population—particularly given its high cost.
We note that, to the extent ISMIP is not cost–effective, its high cost is particularly problematic in light of the other programs that these funds could support. Rather than using $11 million to provide treatment to around 300 individuals, these funds could instead be used to fund programs that provide services to a larger population, thereby having greater effects on recidivism and the prison population.
Drug Treatment Can Be Effective if Implemented According to Best Practices. The administration’s proposal to expand in–prison substance abuse treatment holds promise. This is because data collected by CDCR indicate that recidivism rates for inmates completing in–prison drug treatment programs are lower than for those who do not. This data provides some evidence that the department’s programs may be effective. It does not, however, provide sufficient basis to conclude definitively that the programs are effective because the department did not use rigorous analytical methods for evaluating the programs. For example, the department made no attempt to account for potential differences between inmates who chose to complete the programs and those who did not (such as by randomly assigning inmates to participate in the program). Currently, there is very little recent independent research using rigorous analytical methods to evaluate the cost–effectiveness of the in–prison drug treatment services delivered by CDCR. However, numerous pieces of research from other states suggest that—if implemented consistent with best practices—substance abuse treatment can be a cost–effective way to reduce recidivism. It remains unclear, however, if CDCR is implementing best practices.
Rehabilitation Programming for Inmates in Contract Facilities Not Well Planned. As mentioned earlier, CDCR is planning to transition to a reentry hub model to deliver much of its rehabilitative programming. We find that the reentry model has several strengths. First, it consolidates certain rehabilitation programming, achieving cost savings through economies of scale. Second, it provides services only to high–risk inmates, which, according to research, provides the greatest benefit. Third, it targets inmates who are nearing release so that programs can assist these individuals with reintegration into society. Finally, these reentry hubs are located near where most inmates are paroled so that families can visit and help inmates reintegrate.
However, the administration’s proposal to expand access to these rehabilitation services in all in–state contract facilities represents a significant deviation from the reentry hub model. This is because, rather than concentrating services, it spreads them across the contract facilities. Also, the plan does not limit the programs to high–need or soon–to–be–released inmates. Providing programming to inmates who do not meet this description is problematic because it does not adhere to evidence–based methods. In addition, many high–risk, soon–to–be–released inmates in other CDCR facilities would continue to lack access to these services. Furthermore, the administration’s plan would provide 334 annual programming spaces at each of the in–state contract facilities, irrespective of the number of inmates at each facility that require services. This is problematic because the number of inmates at each facility can vary widely. For example, Lassen houses only 125 inmates, but would be provided 334 programming slots. Thus, virtually every inmate at Lassen would have to participate in two to three programs annually for all the slots to be filled. Conversely, California City Correctional Center houses approximately 2,381 inmates—nearly 30 percent of the in–state contract population. However, under the proposal this facility would also only receive 334 programming slots—about 8 percent of the total amount allocated. Moreover, CDCR has not done an analysis of the number of inmates at each facility that would have an assessed need for these programs. Thus, there may be inmates who could benefit from such programming—particularly high–risk inmates nearing release—who would not be able to access services, while the administration’s plan would provide treatment to inmates without need for such services.
NCRF Proposal Is an Inappropriate Use of Funds and Unlikely to Be Cost–Effective. We have several concerns with the administration’s plan to allocate $8.3 million from the Recidivism Reduction Fund to support the design of NCRF. First, we are concerned that the proposal is an inappropriate use of the Recidivism Reduction Fund. The Legislature created the Recidivism Reduction Fund to support programs designed to reduce recidivism, such as substance abuse treatment and cognitive behavioral therapy. As such, we are concerned that the Governor’s proposed use of these funds to support the design of a new prison is inconsistent with legislative intent, particularly since the department has not provided any information on how NCRF would reduce recidivism. Second, we are concerned about the potential cost of NCRF. As mentioned above, in 2010, the department estimated that the total construction costs would be $115 million and that the facility would cost about $90,000 per inmate to operate—one and a half times the current average cost to house an inmate in state prison. Thus, even if NCRF is operated in a way that would reduce recidivism, its potential cost makes it unlikely to be the most cost–effective approach for doing so.
Community Reentry Proposal Lacks Important Details and May Be Difficult to Implement. We are also concerned that the administration’s plan to allocate $40 million from the Recidivism Reduction Fund to support the development of community reentry facilities lacks several important details. For example, the administration has not indicated how many reentry facilities would be opened or where they would be located. In addition, CDCR has not provided the estimated cost or population per facility, nor has it indicated what specific services would be offered or what the expected reduction in recidivism would be. Without this information the Legislature cannot determine whether the reentry facilities would be a cost–effective approach to reducing recidivism.
We are also concerned that the state may face challenges siting new reentry facilities. The greatest need for reentry services tends to be in densely populated urban areas with a high concentration of reentering inmates. However, it can be difficult to find suitable locations for reentry facilities in such areas because they tend to be more developed, leaving less land available for acquisition. In addition, it can be difficult to find communities that are interested in accommodating correctional facilities. For example, in 2007 the Legislature approved funding to construct 32 reentry facilities. For a variety of reasons, including CDCR’s difficulty finding suitable locations for the facilities, none were actually built. In 2012, the Legislature ultimately withdrew the funding authority for these facilities.

LAO Recommendations

In view of the above, we recommend a variety of modifications to the Governor’s recidivism reduction proposals. In addition, we recommend that the Legislature focus on adopting policies that would help to maintain long–term compliance with the court–ordered population cap. Our recommendations are summarized in Figure 5 and described in more detail below.
Figure 5
Summary of LAO Recommendations
  • Modify Governor’s Recidivism Reduction Proposals
    • Reject funding for Integrated Services for Mentally Ill Parolees program expansion and require evaluation.
    • Approve expansion of drug treatment but require evaluation.
    • Withhold funding for rehabilitation programming in contract facilities.
    • Reject Northern California Reentry Facility proposal.
    • Reject reentry facility proposal.
    • Evaluate current rehabilitative programs.
  • Use Recidivism Reduction Fund to Incentivize Counties to Reduce Prison Admissions
  • Focus on Long–Term Compliance

Modify Governor’s Recidivism Reduction Proposals

Reject Funding for ISMIP Expansion and Require Evaluation. We are concerned that the administration’s plan to spend $11.3 million to expand ISMIP from 600 to 900 slots does not take into account the available data on the program’s effects on recidivism. The high cost per participant raises questions both about its cost–effectiveness as currently operated and whether it would be cost–effective even if targeted to parolees with serious mental illnesses. Additionally, the evaluation performed by CDCR is not adjusted for the effects of realignment, which casts further doubt on the cost–effectiveness of the program.
Given these concerns, we recommend that the Legislature reject the administration’s plan to expand the ISMIP program. We also recommend the Legislature use a portion of the funding proposed for the program to contract with independent research experts (such as a university) to evaluate the effectiveness of the existing ISMIP program. Such a study should include information on recidivism reduction effects, the types of crimes avoided, and cost–effectiveness of the program. This would help the Legislature determine whether the existing ISMIP program could be improved. We estimate that such a study could be completed for several hundred thousand dollars.
Approve Drug Treatment Expansion but Require Evaluation. We recommend that the Legislature approve the administration’s proposed expansion of drug treatment services in state prisons. Given the limited evaluation regarding the effectiveness of CDCR’s in–prison drug treatment services, we also recommend that the Legislature use a portion of the proposed funding to contract with independent research experts to evaluate the department’s delivery of such services. This would allow the Legislature to determine whether CDCR’s programs are being implemented consistent with best practices and are cost–effective at reducing recidivism. We estimate that such a study could be completed for several hundred thousand dollars.
Withhold Funding for Rehabilitation Programming in Contract Facilities. While we acknowledge inmates housed in in–state contract facilities have a need for rehabilitation programs, we are concerned that the administration’s plan to expand such programs to these facilities is poorly conceived. This is because the proposal is not consistent with CDCR’s reentry hub model and does not account for each facility’s population or programming needs. Therefore, we recommend the Legislature withhold funding for the proposed expansion and require the department to present a revised proposal at spring budget hearings. The department’s revised proposal should align with the CDCR reentry hub model, target inmates who have a high or moderate risk to reoffend, and be based on the treatment needs of each facility’s population. Should this revised proposal address the issues identified in this brief, we would recommend the Legislature approve funding for the proposal.
Reject NCRF Proposal. We recommend that the Legislature reject the administration’s plan to allocate $8.3 million from the Recidivism Reduction Fund to support the design of NCRF. As discussed above, the proposal is an inappropriate use of the Recidivism Reduction Fund and is unlikely to be a cost–effective approach to reducing recidivism.
Reject Reentry Facility Proposal. We also recommend that the Legislature reject the administration’s plan to allocate $40 million from the Recidivism Reduction Fund to support the development of community reentry facilities. The administration has not provided the Legislature the information it needs to assess whether the proposal is a cost–effective approach to reducing recidivism.
Evaluate Current Rehabilitative Programs. The type of rehabilitative services provided by CDCR—including cognitive behavioral therapy, substance abuse treatment, education, and employment programs—have been found to reduce recidivism in a cost–effective manner if implemented consistent with best practices. Thus, these programs can improve public safety and reduce state and local correctional populations and costs. However, a significant share of the inmate and parolee population will continue to lack access to these programs even after the administration’s proposed expansions. This suggests that the Legislature may want to pursue a further expansion of these programs as a way to assist the state in maintaining compliance in the long run.
However, just as there are questions about CDCR’s implementation of the ISMIP and substance abuse treatment programs, it is unclear whether CDCR’s other inmate and parolee programs are cost–effective and implemented consistent with best practices. In addition, it is unclear whether CDCR has assessed a sufficient number of inmates and parolees to identify the full extent of their rehabilitative needs. Given these information limitations, we recommend the Legislature direct the department to develop a proposal to contract with independent research experts to evaluate the department’s rehabilitative programs—for both inmates and parolees—in addition to the ISMIP and in–prison substance abuse program evaluations. The evaluation should include information on the cost–effectiveness of the programs and the cost and long–term implications of expanding the programs to meet the needs of CDCR offenders. We estimate that such a study could be completed for a few million dollars and could be funded from the Recidivism Reduction Fund. This information would allow the Legislature to assess (1) the cost–effectiveness of the state’s current investment in rehabilitative programming, (2) whether a further expansion is appropriate, and (3) whether other, more effective investments that improve offender outcomes would be more appropriate.

Use Recidivism Reduction Fund to Incentivize Counties to Reduce Prison Admissions

Our above recommendations to reject the administration’s plans related to community reentry facilities, NCRF, and ISMIP would “free up” almost $60 million from the Recidivism Reduction Fund for the Legislature to allocate to other activities it deems to be of higher priority. As discussed above, we recommend using a small portion of these funds for research and evaluation. While the Legislature has many options regarding these monies, in our view the best option would be to use the remaining funds to provide grants to counties to reduce the number of offenders they admit to state prison.
Under our proposed option, the Legislature could expand the program created by Chapter 608, Statutes of 2009 (SB 678, Leno), commonly referred to as SB 678, which provides counties a fiscal incentive to reduce the number of felony probationers that fail on probation and are incarcerated. Specifically, the Legislature could reward counties for successfully preventing offenders under other forms of county community supervision created by realignment from coming to prison. Under the 2011 realignment, realigned felons can receive a split sentence in which they spend the initial portion of their sentence in jail and the remaining portion in the community under “mandatory supervision” of county probation officers. In addition, following their prison sentences, nonserious, non–violent felons are generally placed on Post–Release Community Supervision (PRCS), where they are supervised in the community by county probation officers. If offenders under these types of county supervision commit new prison–eligible felonies, they can be sentenced to state prison. Under our proposed option, funds could be provided to counties as “seed” grants to support the development or expansion of programs for offenders on mandatory supervision and PRCS that have been demonstrated to reduce crime. Counties could then be rewarded with a portion of the savings they create for the state by preventing these offenders from being sent to state prison. Award grant funding would then provide an ongoing funding source for crime reduction programs.
Our recommended approach has several advantages. Because the state would retain a portion of the savings from reduced prison admissions, this approach would result in net state savings. The approach could also have a positive impact on public safety if it caused counties to invest grant funds in ways that improved offender outcomes. The impact on county workload would be minimal because the costs of any potential caseload increases could be offset by state incentive grant funding. In addition, much of the data necessary to administer the grant program is already being collected by counties. We note, however, it could take time for a sufficient amount of data to be available.
There are, however, a couple of trade–offs with this approach. First, the degree to which this approach reduces the prison population is subject to significant uncertainty and could vary significantly depending primarily on (1) the size of the fiscal incentive and (2) whether counties are able to successfully reduce prison admissions. Second, this approach is unlikely to result in a reduction in prison admissions comparable to SB 678, given that the combined mandatory supervision and PRCS population is about one–tenth of the felony probation population. However, in order to achieve a larger impact, the Legislature could consider creating a new grant program that would also reward counties for reducing their prison admission rates both for offenders on misdemeanor probation as well as for individuals not under any form of community supervision. We note, however, that this would pose much greater implementation challenges as it would be necessary to develop the methodology and data required to effectively measure and reward counties’ efforts at reducing prison admissions.

Focus on Long–Term Compliance

Given the immediate deadlines facing the state in the next few months, the administration’s plan to contract for bed space is a reasonable approach to achieve short–term compliance with the court order, and the Legislature has little choice but to approve the funding for the contracts if it wishes to avoid releasing inmates early. However, if the inmate population grows at the rate CDCR projects, the state will be unable to maintain long–term compliance. This is because the plan contains relatively few measures that would help the state maintain long–term compliance other than relying indefinitely on costly contract beds. While using the monies in the Recidivism Reduction Fund as we have proposed would bring the state closer to long–term compliance, these investments alone are unlikely to result in a reduction in the prison population of sufficient magnitude to ensure long–term compliance or substantially reduce the number of contract beds needed to maintain compliance. Thus, the Legislature must take additional steps if it wishes to (1) ensure that the state will not exceed the court–ordered prison population cap in the future and (2) reduce the number of contract beds necessary to maintain compliance with the cap.
To accomplish these goals, we recommend that the Legislature consider the following criteria.
  • Public Safety. How will the option affect public safety? Can any negative impacts to public safety be mitigated by the use of evidence–based correctional practices, such as risk assessments, community–based sanctions, or treatment programs?
  • Budget Impact. What is the fiscal impact to the state? How certain is the impact?
  • Magnitude. To what extent will the option reduce the prison population or increase prison capacity? Are the changes sustainable?
  • Ease of Implementation. Does the option require only simple actions (like statutory changes) or something more complicated (like implementing a new program)? Will population reductions be delayed because of implementation requirements?
  • Effects on Local Governments. Will the option increase local costs or jail overcrowding? Will the option affect local law enforcement?
In order to assist the Legislature, we provide below some options that we think merit legislative consideration. None of the options are “perfect” solutions, and we recommend that the Legislature review each option with an eye towards identifying those that best meet legislative policy goals and have the least potential negative trade–offs. We also note that many of these policy options would take months or even years to reach their full impact on the prison population. Accordingly, the sooner the Legislature acts, the better. By acting now, the Legislature puts itself in a better position to ensure that the state’s compliance strategy is consistent with its policy priorities. Conversely, the longer the Legislature waits to adopt long–term solutions, the more likely it will find itself once again forced to respond to an imminent court–ordered population limit by extending contracts for prison beds, thereby consuming resources that could be used for other more cost–effective purposes.
Reclassify Certain Felonies and Wobblers as Misdemeanors. One specific option the Legislature could consider is to reclassify certain crimes from felonies and wobblers to misdemeanors. (Wobblers are crimes that current law allows to be prosecuted either as felonies or misdemeanors.) For example, the Legislature could reduce penalties for drug possession offenses to make such crimes misdemeanors. Under current law, possession of most controlled substances (such as cocaine or heroin) is classified as a misdemeanor, a wobbler, or a felony. Under the 2011 realignment of adult offenders, most offenders convicted of felony drug possession are ineligible to be sentenced to state prison and are thus sentenced to local jail or community supervision. However, those with prior convictions for violent, sex, or serious crimes are still eligible for state prison. Accordingly, making these crimes misdemeanors would prevent such offenders from coming to state prison. We estimate that reclassifying these crimes to misdemeanors would reduce the state prison population by a couple thousand inmates on an annual basis. We note that there are other non–violent felonies and wobblers (such as property crimes) that the Legislature could also convert to misdemeanors.
This option has several advantages. First, it could result in state savings of several tens of millions of dollars annually within a few years of implementation due to the ongoing reduction in the prison population. Second, it would, on net, reduce county jail and probation populations and could create significant correctional savings for counties. This is because converting these crimes to misdemeanors would result in shorter jail stays and probation terms for the felony offenders who do not have prior convictions for serious, violent or sex offenses. Finally, changing drug possession offenses to misdemeanors would be relatively simple to implement as it would only require statutory changes.
One potential trade–off is that the sentencing change would reduce the amount of incarceration time for these offenders, and thus place them in the community earlier. This is because the maximum jail sentence for a misdemeanor is one year, which is typically less than the time these offenders would serve in prison or jail if they were sentenced as felons. This could have a negative impact on public safety because it would increase the amount of time these offenders are in the community and able to commit crimes. We note, however, that there is little evidence that the length of time someone serves in prison affects his or her recidivism rate.
Reduce Sentences for Certain Crimes. The Legislature could also consider reducing sentences for certain crimes. For most felonies, current law provides criminal court judges with a choice of three prison terms, commonly known as a sentencing triad. Judges choose which of these sentences is most appropriate given the circumstances of the crime and offender’s criminal history. For example, first–degree burglary is punishable by two, four, or six years in prison. In addition, current law provides for a number of sentence enhancements—additional time that can be added to an offender’s sentence—based on factors such as prior offenses or possession of a weapon during the commission of the crime. The Legislature could choose to reduce the triad sentences for certain crimes, or it could reduce or eliminate particular sentence enhancements. The effect of such changes to sentencing law would depend on the specific statutory changes made, but could result in a significant and ongoing reduction to the state prison population and correctional costs. This option could also result in a reduction to county caseloads and costs as it would likely affect felons who serve their sentences under county jurisdiction due to the 2011 realignment. While this option would be relatively simple to implement, it would likely take at least a couple of years before it significantly reduced the prison population. One major trade–off with this option is that the affected offenders would spend less time in custody and thus could commit crimes that they could not commit if they remained incarcerated.
Increase the Early Release Credits Inmates Can Earn. Most inmates are eligible to earn credits towards reducing time off of their sentence, such as by participating in prison work assignments or rehabilitation programs. In addition, most inmates earn “day–for–daycredits—one day off their sentence for each day that they refrain from disciplinary problems. However, certain inmates are either ineligible to receive certain credits or have limits on the amount of credit they can earn. For example, as mentioned earlier, second strikers can only receive credits sufficient to reduce their sentence by 20 percent under current law. While the administration’s plan would increase the amount of credits second strikers earn, the Legislature could further expand the amount of credits available to inmates. For example, the Legislature could increase the cap on the amount of credits other inmates can earn or it could further expand the number of inmates eligible to receive credits. The Legislature could also increase participation in rehabilitation programs by expanding the amount of credits inmates earn for participating in these programs.
The magnitude of the prison population reduction that could be achieved from increasing credits would depend on the number of inmates affected and the extent to which their sentences were reduced. While this option would create an ongoing reduction in the prison population and state correctional costs, it would likely take at least a couple of years to achieve. In addition, this option could require resources for CDCR to implement because the department would have to make further changes to the way it calculates sentencing credits, which is already a difficult task. Similar to the above option of reducing sentences, a trade–off associated with this option is that the affected offenders would spend less time in custody and thus could commit crimes that they could not commit if they remained incarcerated. However, to the extent that this option increases participation in programs that make inmates less likely to reoffend, some of the potential negative impacts on public safety from releasing inmates early would be mitigated.
Expand Alternative Custody Program to Male Inmates. As mentioned above, CDCR currently operates an alternative custody program that allows female inmates who meet certain criteria to serve part of their sentence in the community rather than in state prison. Participants may be housed in a private residence, a transitional care facility, or a residential treatment program. The Legislature could consider expanding eligibility for this program to certain male inmates. The reduction in the state prison population and state costs resulting from this option would depend on (1) how many male inmates were eligible to participate in the program, (2) what portion of the participants’ sentences were served outside of prison, and (3) whether the state subsidized the housing costs of participants. To the extent that the state cost for the program was less than the cost of prison, this option would result in net savings to the state.
Similar to the above options of reducing sentences and increasing the credits inmates can earn, a trade–off associated with this option is that the affected offenders would spend less time in custody and thus could commit crimes that they could not commit if they remained incarcerated. However, the Legislature could minimize the effect on public safety by restricting eligibility to inmates who are low risk and by requiring that participants attend programs that make them less likely to reoffend. Another disadvantage of this option is that it could present some implementation challenges as CDCR indicates that the process for reviewing female applicants and placing them into the current program is time consuming and difficult. In addition, to the extent the program further reduced the number of lower security inmates in the institutions, it could reduce the number of inmates available for the fire camp program and other work assignments that are limited to lower security inmates, which could create operational difficulties for CDCR.
Modify Rehabilitative Programs Based on Evaluation. Depending on the outcome of our recommended evaluation of CDCR’s cognitive behavioral therapy, education, and employment programs, the Legislature could also reduce the size of the prison population by expanding these programs, to the extent they are found to be cost–effective. Alternatively, if CDCR’s current programs are not found to be cost–effective, the Legislature could reduce the prison population either by directing CDCR to modify its delivery of the current programs to match best practices or by investing in other programs that have been shown to be cost–effective.
This approach could improve public safety and reduce state and local correctional costs. However, the extent to which this option would reduce the prison population and yield these potential benefits is subject to significant uncertainty. In addition, there could be significant implementation challenges. For example, CDCR would need to hire additional education and vocational instructors and identify contractors to provide community and in–prison rehabilitation programming. This would require a significant up–front investment of resources and could delay any eventual reduction in the prison population. Given these limitations, it is difficult to assess what long–term effect such changes in inmate and parolee programs might have on the prison population, or what the cost of such an expansion might be.

LAO Publications: To request publications call (916) 445-4656. This report and others, as well as an E-mail subscription service, are available at www.lao.ca.gov. The LAO is located at 925 L Street, Suite 1000, Sacramento, CA 95814.

Return to LAO Home Page

 http://www.lao.ca.gov/reports/2014/budget/three-judge-panel/three-judge-panel-022814.aspx

---------------------------




RAPE IN PRISON- 

Rape in the American Prison

In 2003, Congress passed legislation to eliminate sexual assaults against inmates. One young man’s story shows how elusive that goal remains.




This piece was reported through The Marshall Project, a nonprofit news organization that covers the U.S. criminal-justice system.
Three years ago, the young man who would later be known as John Doe 1 shuffled into the Richard A. Handlon Correctional Facility in Ionia, Michigan. The town of 11,000 residents, which sits in the remote center of the state, houses five prisons, and over the years, it has earned the nickname “I Own Ya.” John, who was 17, had already gotten over the initial fear of going to an adult prison—he had spent several months at a county jail near Detroit and an intake facility in Jackson—but he also knew he would be spending longer at this lonely outpost, a minimum of three years for a couple of home invasions. It was still wintery in April, and his state-issued jacket was poor protection against the drafts coming through the broken windows, shattered by men who had passed through before. “It was pretty ragged,” he recalled recently, “a tear down.”







The rituals of intake were familiar. Standing in a line with several dozen other men, John stripped off his navy blue scrubs, squatted, and coughed to prove he wasn’t hiding anything. Once inside, he could try grimacing to look tough, as he had in his early mugshots, but he couldn’t hide his skinny frame or his high-pitched voice. Over the next few days, while bringing trays of food around the blocks for his new kitchen job, John would learn that he had been placed in one of the nicer units (another he saw “looked like a basement, with the lights busted out”). But he also noticed that he was one of the youngest prisoners on the block. The other prisoners noticed too. He was what they called a “fish.”
His first cellmate was an older man, black like John, who was serving a life sentence, and he didn’t say much. But something about him seemed a little off, and that night, John says he awoke and saw this man sitting at a desk, wide awake, and staring right at him. John requested and received a new cell assignment. His second cellmate was also a lifer, and friendly enough, but after a few days the man asked to be paired with another lifer, so John was moved again.
It was around this time that the letters started sliding under his cell door. John would get a lot of letters from other prisoners over the next few months, and while they weren’t always explicit, some certainly were. “You are one sexy nigger,” one read. “You need a white man to show you how to act ... When the opportunity comes I want to sneak in your house and hit that.” Another letter said he had a “fan club.”
John didn’t take these letters seriously; he threw many of them away. He settled into GED classes and shifts serving breakfast and lunch. From the prison library he pulled volumes ranging from the poems of Langston Hughes (“They’re so simple, but they explain so much”) to thriller paperbacks by Dean Koontz and James Patterson.
His new cellmate, whom we’ll call David, had already served a little more than a year out of a minimum of eight for robbery. He was in his early 20s, over six feet with a tuft on his chin and a thin mustache. They talked about their families and the crimes that had gotten them locked up.
But then David said something that struck John as strange. He asked him if he would ever get involved sexually with a man. John knew himself to be heterosexual; he had lost his virginity to a girl the year before. “I just kind of laughed it off,” he recalled. And then it happened. One night after the last count before bed, John says, his cellmate suddenly attacked him, pulling down both of their pants and wrestling him onto the bottom bunk. John tried to resist, but he was less than 140 pounds, and next to David’s bulk of more than 200 he stood little chance as this powerful man forced his way in, slowly and painfully and in silence, without a condom or lubricant.
John would later estimate that it lasted seven minutes. When David was finished, he told him to keep quiet. John obeyed; though still a fish, he had been down long enough to know that snitches suffer fates worse than rape.
Caption
In 2003, while John was still in elementary school, Congress passed the Prison Rape Elimination Act, now usually known as PREA. It was intended to make experiences like his far less likely. But like many ambitious pieces of legislation, its promise has proved difficult to realize. The law required studies of the problem that took far longer than initially intended, and adoption of the guidelines they produced has been painfully slow, resting on the competence and dedication of particular employees. PREA has not been a complete failure, but it is also far from delivering on its promise, and John’s story illustrates many of the hurdles that have impeded the law and still lie in its path.
There is a toughness about John that evaporates into shyness the moment he opens his mouth. Though he’s short and muscular, with hair he sometimes keeps in cornrows, his voice is soft, high and wheezy. He often runs out of breath after long sentences, so he speaks in clipped, self-conscious bursts. This comes from his asthma, which, in addition to several long scars that run along his legs and stomach, is the result of a moment that defined his childhood: When John was 4 years old, his single mother decided that she couldn’t take care of him anymore, so she left him inside their apartment and set the building on fire.
John’s mother went to prison, and he went to live with his grandparents in a northern suburb of Detroit. (His story, in which names have been changed, is based on interviews, documents, and a deposition in an ongoing lawsuit.) He had a hard time bonding with his grandmother. “I kind of got a feeling that she didn’t want me,” he said, “but she took care of me because I was my mother’s child.” He started seeing a psychologist, who diagnosed him with bipolar and post-traumatic stress disorders and urged the family to enter therapy together but, as he remembers it, his grandmother refused and instead asked for him to be put on medication. He started taking Adderall, a stimulant, that “made me feel like I was wired and that I couldn’t sleep or eat,” and Seroquel, an anti-psychotic that “was the complete opposite … It put me to sleep. I was like a zombie.” Around this time, while John was in middle school, his grandfather died. He was devastated: “I felt like he was the only person that wanted me.” One night, John drew a bath and tried to drown himself by taking sleep aids and falling asleep in the tub. His grandmother managed to revive him.
As he entered high school, John attempted the makings of what we call a normal teenage life. He was close with his two sisters. He studied art books from the library. His grandmother couldn’t afford to buy him gear to play soccer, but he found a karate studio that would let him take classes in exchange for teaching, and eventually he acquired a green belt.
During his freshman year, John reconnected with his mother. She still took drugs and worked as a prostitute, and she convinced him to help her shoplift. “She would wear a backpack and put stuff in it and have me walk out with it,” he recalled. As she struggled financially, he tried to help her by stealing from other students at school. He was caught with another student’s music player, and along with fighting and truancy, he developed a record that would get him sent to alternative school for his senior year. Things continued to deteriorate at home. John drank. He was charged with domestic violence after his grandmother wouldn’t let him leave the house and he threw a small fan against the wall. She later convinced prosecutors to drop the charges.
On a summer evening before his senior year, John says he got a ride after karate from an older male member of his extended family—he still won’t say whom, an omission that has never looked good for him. They drove to a mobile-home park just beyond Detroit’s northernmost suburbs, and pulled up to one that appeared empty. John propped a metal folding chair up against a window, climbed up, popped out the screen, and made his way inside. This happened several times. Stolen items included a Pandora charm necklace and an iPod, as well as nickels, dimes, and quarters from a change jar (they left the pennies behind). They also stole a .45 caliber pistol. Usually, the homeowners weren’t around, though one time John encountered a 9-year-old boy. John later said he was drunk during the break-in. When John returned to his grandmother’s house, he was so scared of the gun that he tossed it into their backyard and told her he had found it there. She called the police, who came and picked it up. Eventually, they found John’s fingerprints on one of the windows from the mobile park, and figured out the gun had been stolen from one of the houses. John decided to plead guilty, figuring he would only get a short stint in a juvenile facility.
But John had turned 17 by the time of the third home invasion, and in Michigan that meant he would automatically be prosecuted as an adult. He was also charged with “criminal sexual conduct” after the 9-year-old boy told the police John had molested him. John disputed this accusation, but following his court-appointed attorney’s advice he pled guilty to a home invasion and “no contest” to the sex crime. He mistakenly thought “no contest” was akin to not guilty, but for purposes of sentencing it is not, and the judge considered it when deciding to send John to prison for a minimum of three years and a maximum of 20.
When prisoner advocates talk about PREA’s passage over a decade ago, they use use words like “miracle” and “victory.” But those same advocates acknowledge that this rare moment of bipartisanship was born out of tragedy. In 1996, a 17 year-old prisoner named Rodney Hulin Jr. had torn up his bed sheet, tied it above the door of his cell in the Clemens Unit in Brazoria County, Texas, and jumped down from the top bunk of his bed. When correctional officers cut him down, Hulin was comatose, and he died four months later. Hulin had been raped, beaten, and forced to perform oral sex within three days of his arrival at the unit. He asked to be placed in protective custody and was turned down. After his suicide, a picture of his small shoulders and thin face circulated on major news networks and Hulin became a symbol of two related phenomena. One was the prevalence of new laws that allowed youth to be sent to adult prisons, rather than juvenile facilities, for non-violent crimes (Hulin had committed second-degree arson, resulting in less than $500 of property damage). The other was prison rape.
Among prisoners and their keepers, Hulin’s experience was hardly notable. It was widely known that younger, smaller inmates were at constant risk of sexual assault. Haywood Patterson, one of the Scottsboro Boys, wrote that when he got to Alabama’s Atmore Prison in 1937, he found that young men were beaten into submission and eventually “sold themselves around on the weekends just like whore women of the streets.” In 1980, Louisiana prison-newspaper editor Wilbert Rideau won national journalism accolades for an essay called “The Sexual Jungle,” in which he wrote that “rape in prison is rarely a sexual act, but one of violence, politics, and an acting out of power roles.” Being raped, or “turned out,” he explained, redefines the male victim “as a ‘female’ in this perverse subculture, and he must assume that role as the ‘property’ of his conqueror or whoever claimed him and arranged his emasculation. He becomes a slave in the fullest sense of the term.”
Reports about prison rape by advocacy groups led to occasional efforts by federal lawmakers to address the problem. None of those initiatives gained any wide support until 2001, when Human Rights Watch released “No Escape: Male Rape in U.S. Prisons,” which focused less on perpetrators than on failures by correctional staff and policies to prevent rape. The report included harrowing first-person accounts. “The opposite of compassion is not hatred,” wrote one Florida prisoner, describing the violence he’d endured. “It’s indifference.” The revelations brought together liberal human rights activists, government-distrustful libertarians, and Christian conservatives. PREA was passed unanimously. The lawmakers and advocates who pushed the law to passage hoped it would create standards to protect particular classes of prisoners. Recent news reports on PREA have focused almost exclusively on the plight of transgender and gay inmates, but originally the spotlight was on a much larger population: the young and inexperienced. “There was an assumption from the beginning of PREA that we wanted to protect the vulnerable,” says Cindy Struckman-Johnson, a University of South Dakota psychologist. “Age was a given. It’s the number one vulnerability.”
Struckman-Johnson served on the National Prison Rape Elimination Commission, which formed as a requirement of the 2003 law. The commission held a series of public hearings, and one of the first to testify was Steven Babbitt, who had entered an adult prison at age 18 for a non-violent theft. After multiple rapes, he had found an inmate to protect him from others in exchange for an exclusive right to sex. This inmate referred to him as Stephanie and forced him to wear makeup and shave his legs. It was not a rare scenario.
It is impossible to know how many of the teenagers sent to adult prisons in recent years have been sexually assaulted, in part because so many of them have been afraid to report. (Rape outside of prison is known to be under-reported, and the same is true within prison walls, especially because prisoners face the possibility of retaliation by both correctional staff and other prisoners.)
Some corrections officials have pointed out that sexual assaults regularly occur in juvenile facilities as well as in adult ones. But many non-violent crimes lead to probation, rather than incarceration, when they’re handled by the juvenile system, and a 1989 study found that inmates under 18 in adult prisons reported being “sexually attacked” five times more often than their peers in juvenile institutions. Citing that statistic, some members of the commission initially argued for a blanket ban on putting anyone under 18 in an adult facility. Commissioner Brenda Smith, a law professor at American University who is working on PREA implementation to this day, wanted the age cut-off to be 21. But she points out that this would not have been “politically realistic.” In the decades just before PREA passed, a number of states had enacted laws sentencing more youth to adult jails and prisons.
Many of these state laws were inspired by the image of juvenile “superpredators,” a term coined by the influential political scientist John DiIulio Jr., who in 1995 warned of “elementary school youngsters who pack guns instead of lunches.” DiIulio later renounced his own theories, citing a change of heart during his Catholic prayers; by 2001, he was telling The New York Times he would work “on prevention, on helping bring caring, responsible adults to wrap their arms around these kids.” But the laws he helped inspire have largely remained.
Today, 17-year-olds are automatically tried as adults in nine states, while 16-year-olds automatically face adult charges in North Carolina and New York. Lawmakers, prosecutors, and victims’ rights groups have argued that some crimes are heinous enough to indicate an adult’s sense of responsibility, so nearly every state allows youth under 18 to be sentenced as an adult in specific cases, usually giving the choice to prosecutors or judges.
After PREA passed in 2003, the bipartisan commission announced it would obtain data on prison rape, write a report, and recommend a set of policy proposals “after two years.” The complexity and scope of the problem proved daunting, and it took nearly six; the report was released in 2009. The next stop was Attorney General Eric Holder’s Department of Justice, which spent three years (two more than they had initially planned) deliberating over the law and translating its recommendations into final standards. The department added a requirement that inmates under 18 could not be placed in a housing unit where they would “have sight, sound, or physical contact with any adult inmate through use of a shared dayroom, or other common space, shower area, or sleeping quarters,” and called for “direct staff supervision” in instances where contact could not be avoided.
PREA specifically barred the commission from recommending standards “that would impose substantial additional costs” for prison administrators, and many told the commission that placing youth who were convicted as adults in their own facilities would be impossibly expensive. “We must house adolescents and adults separately,” Martin Horn, head of the New York City Department of Correction, said at a 2006 hearing in Miami. “This takes time, this takes staff, and this takes money. And you must ask Congress to provide it.”
Today, states only have to promise that they’re working to comply with PREA’s many requirements, including the separation of youth under 18 from older prisoners. If they fail to do so or simply refuse to certify their compliance, as the governors of seven states have done, they stand to lose 5 percent of their grant funding from the DOJ. While most states, including Michigan, are still assuring federal authorities that they are addressing prison rape, prisoners remain at risk. “You see a lot of states just making assurances,” said Carmen Daugherty, policy director of the Campaign for Youth Justice, “and it seems like they can do it indefinitely, year after year after year.”
The second time David raped him, John says David held a homemade weapon to his throat. It was a toothbrush, wired up with four or five shaving razors. The third and fourth times, David just left the weapon on his desk, in clear view, and relied on John’s fear to keep him passive.
Then, one morning around 6 a.m., while out on the yard for recreation, John says he saw David receive a mesh laundry bag from a prisoner he didn’t know. He could see that it contained meat sticks and bags of chips. These kinds of exchanges were common; he figured the other prisoner might be trading the food for the use of his cell as a quiet place for tattooing or some other illicit activity. (Official policy forbade prisoners from visiting other cells, but officers frequently looked the other way.)
That afternoon, John returned to his “house,” as prisoners call their cells, and saw his cellmate’s key—in this prison, every inmate had a key to his own cell—sitting on the desk. His cellmate was in bed. Feeling greasy after his kitchen shift, John started to undress so he could take a shower. As he took off his pants, he saw the mesh bag of food. He looked over and realized the man in the bed was not David. It was the prisoner who had handed over the bag of food. The man rose from the bed, grabbed David’s toothbrush weapon, held it to John’s cheek, and forced him down. This prisoner had a jar of Vaseline, but it did not do much; after he left, John found blood on his clothes.
John says he was raped several more times by both his cellmate and strangers. He was forced to perform oral sex, and he still remembers brushing his teeth twice to get the taste out of his mouth. He never told medical staff about his anal bleeding because he felt embarrassed, though because of a foot injury he was able to get painkillers.
John would later be asked why he did not tell correctional staff, since in theory they could have taken steps to protect him. “I didn’t know what to do,” he said. He assumed the staff knew what was happening. From their station at the end of the hall, the officers would see men going in and out of his cell and they would not intervene. The rapists would put a towel over the cell door’s window, which was not allowed but must have been noticed by officers making their rounds. John says some of the officers would even make jokes, calling him a “fag,” a “girl,” and a “bust-down.”
Two months after his arrival, John finally reached a breaking point. Around 2 p.m. one day, David tried to touch the middle of his back. John pushed his hands away. David forced him up against a locker and wrapped his hands around John’s neck. John wrestled his way out, and emerged from the cell barefoot. Hanging a left, he ran to the guard station, and begged them to assign him to a different cell. He didn’t mention the rapes, only his cellmate’s attempt to choke him. The officers allowed John to grab his few possessions and move down the hall, closer to their station. His new cellmate was not a predator, but by then John had been tagged as easy prey. Two days after he was moved, another prisoner cornered him in his cell and raped him. It seemed like other prisoners had figured out his schedule—when he would be alone in his cell, or in the shower. He was called a “fuckboy,” a term for the men who are “gay for pay,” trading sex for food or other favors, even though John said he never did.
He developed strategies to avoid being attacked; on days when he got off work early, he would try to get into the shower—a communal room with a dozen shower heads and no privacy—alone before the afternoon shift change, when the prison locks down and nobody can move from where they are. That way, he could take a 20- or 30-minute shower with nobody around.
But he did not always succeed. A few days after he switched cells, three inmates found him alone in the shower. One kept an eye on the hallway while the other two took turns holding him down and penetrating him. “They said, ‘Shut up, be quiet, we have that thing with us,’” meaning a weapon, he recalled. John says he resisted, but he knew that if he was caught fighting and got a misconduct ticket, he might hurt his chances of parole. He also didn’t want to get stabbed. So he acquiesced. “It got easier because I could go away in my mind.” Eventually, John says, he was raped so many times he lost count.
Soon after the shower rapes began, John met a white prisoner in his late 20s with blonde hair and a pierced tongue. A former cocaine dealer, he was now a member of the Aryan Brotherhood prison gang. “He said that if I masturbated him he’d protect me from the other prisoners.” To John’s thinking, this passed for a good deal, since many vulnerable prisoners end up trading intercourse for protection. The two were caught in the shower by an officer in late July. “Both prisoners were fully naked and neither appeared to be an unwilling participant,” the officer wrote in a misconduct report, adding, “At no time did these prisoners have staff authorization to engage in sexual activity.”
John was sent to solitary confinement for two weeks as punishment. Removed from most human contact, he started to feel “like I was going crazy.” But he also felt safer.
The prison where John has lived since he was moved into protective custody (Maurice Chammah/The Marshall Project)
After about a week in solitary, John started to tell a series of authority figures, including the deputy warden, that he had been assaulted. He didn’t always tell them who was responsible, or about every single instance, but he made it clear he was afraid of further sexual attacks. One officer wrote that John “indicates that prisoners are at his door and he does what he can to survive in this environment.”
John later said that he was never asked to give a detailed statement about what he had endured. When later asked if he felt as though the staff cared about his situation, he waffled. “Somewhat,” he said, “and then again no.” The final PREA standards, which took effect in August 20th, 2012, demanded that allegations of rape “must be investigated properly, thoroughly, and objectively.” John told the authorities about the assaults in late July, roughly three weeks before the standards took effect, so nobody was failing to abide by PREA when they did not investigate John’s allegations.
Instead, they moved John across the street to Bellamy Creek Correctional Facility, which has a large “protective custody” unit. The transfer paperwork refers to John as a “homosexual who is being pressed by other inmates,” though he never declared himself to be gay.
As he celebrated his 18th birthday, John’s new placement in protective custody meant that he no longer faced constant attacks. But there were trade-offs; now he would work in sanitation and laundry. He was not allowed to take rehabilitative classes with names like “Cage Your Rage” and “Thinking for a Change” that would improve his chances of parole. Recreation was minimal; he technically got an hour of gym a week, but when the designated hour conflicted with his laundry shift, he had to give it up. PREA made it possible for the prison to deny him exercise if there were “exigent circumstances” and demanded that programming be offered “to the extent possible.” John made repeated requests to return to general population, even though he would be at greater risk of sexual attack. According to prison records, he told officials he wanted “greater opportunity to be out of cell, outdoors, and participate in more activities.” In particular, he knew he might need the classes in order to be granted parole. One of his lawyers, Anlyn Addis, put it succinctly: “He has to risk greater harm to get free.” But the Security Classification Committee, now well aware of the dangers he faced, rejected his requests, declaring that he “could be easily victimized” in general population.
Even in protective custody, John was not immune from sexual advances. While putting away chairs after church services one day, a black prisoner in his early 30s tried to kiss him and grab his rear. John did not fight back; he later said he’d wanted to avoid a misconduct ticket that might jeopardize his parole. So when the officer encountered the two prisoners, he noted that he’d seen them “kissing each other with an open mouth and inappropriately touching each other on the buttocks.” The misconduct ticket was dropped when John explained why he had not fought back.
John was offered more protection deals, and he eventually agreed to kiss a white prisoner in his early 20s. When they were caught in the law library, the guard's report noted that John had been a willing participant: “Saw [John] grab onto [the other prisoner's] shirt collar and pull [the man] close to him & then they kissed one another on the mouth. Both prisoners were smiling prior and after the open mouth to mouth contact. Both prisoners snuck into the restroom around the wall where they were out of sight. This open mouth contact clearly was consensual & for the purpose of gratifying the sexual desire of both parties.”
John didn’t deny any of this. In interviews, he said he has never had consensual sex with a man, though during his time in prison, he's agreed to do things “short of” sex, such as touching and kissing—things he said he felt he had to do to protect himself from further violent rapes. When asked about his sexual preferences, he called himself heterosexual but added, “Now I don't feel a desire for either sex.” He is not sure whether he'll ever be able to resume relationships with women. “It's debatable.”
After the incident in the library, he and the other prisoner received misconduct tickets. For 25 days, neither was allowed to go to the yard or use the phone. In a kite—a secret letter—the other prisoner wrote to him, “You are always gonna be in my heart. I know I’m in yours. If you leave me I will stab you.” Soon afterwards, John ran into the prisoner on the way back from the gym. “He hit me in the face,” John said. The assault was observed by officers, and the other man was sent into solitary confinement. He continued to send John threatening letters and later, John said, he spit on him. “I said I'd go to the hole [solitary confinement] if they let him come back over here.” The man was sent to another facility.
John was slowly growing more confident. In May 2013, a correctional officer made an announcement on the prison-wide intercom reminding John to take his HIV medication. John—who is not HIV-positive—filed a grievance, arguing that the officer had “purposefully put my life in jeopardy with defamation of character.” He said he collected written statements from other prisoners, arguing that such a false claim would brand him as homosexual and put him at risk of attack. The prison officials did not find his appeal persuasive; their notes claim that John provided “neither evidence nor information that substantiates his allegations.” His grievance was denied.
It was around this time that John received a letter from an attorney named Deborah LaBelle. Working with a small staff out of an office in downtown Ann Arbor, LaBelle had been suing the Michigan Department of Corrections since the mid-1980s. In 2009, she had won $100 million in a class-action suit for female prisoners who had been sexually assaulted by male guards (among them John’s mother when she’d served time for lighting their apartment on fire). LaBelle had testified before the prison-rape commission, and along with the state’s chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union had tried to force the state to overturn the sentences of juveniles sentenced to life without parole.

When she learned that many of these “juvenile lifers” had been sexually assaulted, LaBelle started corresponding with a broader population of young prisoners. Some, like John, had been sold for sex by their cellmates. Others had been groped by female guards. One young prisoner reported that officers had threatened to facilitate his rape if he complained of poor treatment. Another had been given misconduct tickets after refusing to leave solitary confinement out of fear of being raped: He said he spent an hour of recreation alone each week in an enclosed cage while older inmates stuck their penises through the bars, threatening to hurt him if he didn’t perform oral sex. Like many of the young men, this one had attempted suicide. All of this had happened in spite of what would appear to be good faith efforts. Michigan had long experimented with separating youth in its own facilities. In 2004, the state was one of many that accepted a federal grant to help implement PREA (they would receive a total of more than $1.5 million by 2013). The next year corrections official Nancy Zang (who declined to be interviewed for this article) told the commissioners, “I personally, along with my assistant, trained every warden, deputy warden, assistant deputy warden [and] executive policy team member in the Michigan Department of Corrections relative to the requirements” of the new law. During the summer of 2007, the department began to show a video about how to avoid sexual assault to incoming prisoners. (John later saw this video, though he did not take it seriously; he said it resembled a public service announcement from the 1970s.)  
In 2010, Michigan went a step further, developing its own policies based on the Department of Justice’s draft standards. The state created a curriculum and trained personnel to screen incoming inmates for vulnerability. Some prisoners say they’ve noticed a change. “With the advent of PREA, they are a lot more proactive,” says T.J. Spytma, who served nearly 40 years in various Michigan prisons before his parole last summer. “They do take care to keep someone vulnerable out of a room with someone known to be predatory.” Over the past few years, the Michigan Department of Corrections has begun to implement PREA’s “youthful inmate standard” by separating inmates under 18 from older ones. Department spokesman Chris Gautz said that in October 2012, “we began a concerted effort to move all of the young men … that are in our custody” to a single prison, the Thumb Correctional Facility, roughly an hour north of Detroit. “Prior to PREA the law did not require keeping prisoners under the age of 18 separate—sight and sound—from adult prisoners,” he explained, “but MDOC was largely doing it anyway. It made sense in terms of the programming they are offered, as well as counseling and the education classes they receive, to have these young prisoners at one facility, rather than have them spread around in facilities across the state.”
But once prisoners turn 18 they can be placed elsewhere in the system. LaBelle found that strict separation of young inmates was not sufficient—prisons needed better ways of assessing whether an individual prisoner is vulnerable to sexual assault. (There is, after all, little meaningful difference between 17- and 18-year-olds in this regard.) Screening for youth was supposed to be part of PREA implementation, but there were signs that this was not necessarily working. LaBelle deposed Kimberly Dabner, the PREA coordinator for two facilities, whose job was to review allegations of sexual misconduct, handing cases off to an investigator and inputting data. “Do you know if PREA has any specific requirements with regard to youthful offenders?” she was asked, according to a deposition transcript.
“I do not know,” she replied.
“Do you know how PREA defines a youthful offender?”
“No.”
In late 2013, LaBelle filed state and federal class action lawsuits on behalf of youth who had been sexually assaulted, accusing the prison system of failing to protect them. A trial is expected later this year if the prison agency does not reach a settlement with LaBelle’s team, which is currently in contact with roughly 250 prisoners who were under 18 between 2010 and 2013 and claim to have been sexually assaulted. She expects that number to grow as word spreads within the prisons. Although the laws under which she is seeking damages are far older than PREA—she is relying on state civil-rights laws and a 1994 Supreme Court case, Farmer v. Brennan, which says prison officials are liable for inmate violence if they are “deliberately indifferent”—her research has exposed the shortcomings of PREA in general and Michigan’s implementation in particular.
The lawyers’ exchanges with the state attorney general’s office, which is representing the prison agency, have often been tense. In February 2014, LaBelle sought a protective order for potential plaintiffs, since she had learned that prison staff were calling out youth and asking them to sign pre-prepared statements saying they had never been sexually attacked.
At a hearing, a state attorney described false reports from some youth and told the judge, “We want to be careful … I know for emotional grab it’s important to say things like ‘children’ and ‘little kids,’ and stuff like that … If you look at their records, these are people who have been convicted of first degree murder, multiple armed robberies, sexual assaults, tortures, carjackings, kidnapping; these are not minor events. They are muscular; they’re active, they’re wild—because teenagers without adult supervision can be that way—and they’re dangerous.” The attorney said his office “had a great deal of difficulty in trying to identify anybody who had actually been harmed, anybody who said they were under a current threat.”
In its January 2014 answer to the plaintiffs’ complaint, the Michigan Department of Corrections denied all of the allegations, insisting it had been acting in accordance with PREA ever since the law was implemented in August 2013. When it came to the details of any prisoner's story—including the rape incidents John described—the department refused to either admit or deny them because "the identity of the prisoner has not been revealed." As of February 2015, the department would only comment to the media on the lawsuit to say, “We are confident the assertions made in the lawsuit are false and we are vigorously defending the department.”
Patricia Caruso, who headed the Michigan Department of Corrections from 2003 until 2011 and is now a corrections consultant, notes that her state has enacted cutting-edge policies to curb sexual assault, including a ban on male officers in female housing units. Speaking by phone from the 2015 conference of the American Correctional Association, she said that many outsiders, including the PREA commissioners, have been “more interested in stories that were stories” than in trying to understand the thousands of decisions corrections officials must make every day, many of which are shaped by contradictory and complex pieces of information.
While Caruso noted that young prisoners are usually considered vulnerable, she recalled instances where older inmates had called their young cellmates wild and impulsive and asked for reassignments. “Even teenagers who haven’t been convicted of a felony have behavior issues,” she explained. Echoing many of her colleagues, and the arguments of the state attorney at the February 2014 hearing, she said that young inmates sometimes report they’re feeling threatened, “because they want to get something.”
Over her eight years as director of the department, Caruso came to believe that many of the problems her prisons—and others around the country—face in dealing with young inmates are not primarily the fault of corrections officials. Instead, she blames the superpredator-era laws that drive youth into adult prisons. “When you get into the nuances of how you deal with this, a prison with a thousand or more prisoners, think about how hard it is to manage” this population, she said. Teenagers “don’t belong there.”
In recent years, there have been growing efforts to repeal laws that send youth to adult prisons. Neuroscience research has found that adolescent brains keep developing well past age 20, meaning that youth are primed for rehabilitation, but also may be more permanently scarred by the rapes, fights, and stints in solitary confinement that come with incarceration.  
PREA has been credited with helping raise awareness of the threats young inmates face. A 2006 congressional bill that would have allowed juvenile gang members to be prosecuted in adult federal courts lost steam after U.S. District Court Judge Reggie Walton, who chaired the national prison rape commission (and was described by another commissioner as “no softie”) wrote in a letter to lawmakers that they should “refrain from inadvertently putting youth at serious risk of sexual abuse by placing them in adult facilities.” Senator Charles Grassley of Iowa, who now chairs the Senate Judiciary Committee, recently announced his support for reauthorizing the Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention Act, which would strengthen efforts to separate juvenile offenders from adults.
The trend is trickling down to the states. In New York, North Carolina, and Wisconsin—even in Texas, where former Governor Rick Perry said his prisons would not fully comply with PREA—officials are considering laws that would raise the age at which someone is automatically sentenced to an adult facility from 16 or 17 to 18. Such laws have already passed in Massachusetts and Illinois. Colorado, Ohio, and Virginia recently barred juveniles from being held in adult jails before trial.
This shift may take a long time to reach Michigan. It has been two decades since Detroit was a fixture in the national news for its legendary crack trade and the waves of arson and vandalism carried out by teenagers the night before Halloween every year (a ritual famously known as “Devil’s Night”), but the city continues to have one of the highest rates of violent crime in the country. It is a place of undeniable racial tension; white conservatives have left and bunkered down in the suburbs, while the city has gone bankrupt and many of its black residents have become trapped in homes with no running water or electricity. The fear that fueled a rise in incarceration nationwide a generation ago still feels palpable as a nightly string of rapes, robberies, and murders continues to dominate local news coverage in the city and its vast vicinity of wealthier outskirts.
In 1996, Michigan Governor John Engler signed what he called the nation’s “toughest” juvenile crime laws, and those laws are still in place (despite a program that allows some youth to expunge their criminal record if they plead guilty and complete a short sentence). There is no youngest age at which someone can be prosecuted as an adult in Michigan, and in 2000 the state famously convicted a 13-year-old named Nathaniel Abraham* of murder, though he was not sent to an adult facility. Although the goal of the laws was to target violent crimes by “superpredators,” the Michigan Council on Crime and Delinquency recently found that of the 19,000 crimes committed by 17-year-olds in Michigan over the last 10 years, 60 percent were non-violent thefts, home invasions, and drug possession.
Although it is unclear whether LaBelle’s lawsuit will impact the state’s laws, its potential financial cost to the state has begun to quietly circulate among policymakers around the country. At a recent hearing in Texas, a legislative committee considering raising the adult prosecution age from 17 to 18 learned that failures to protect 17-year-olds in adult facilities could, with the help of PREA, lead to costly lawsuits. House Representative Bobby Scott of Virginia, who sponsored PREA in 2003, recently told U.S. News and World Report that “damages could reach billions in some states.”
John was sitting alone in the visitation room at Bellamy Creek on a Friday morning in January, surrounded by brightly lit snack machines and stacks of children’s books. Michael Pitt, an attorney from the Detroit suburb of Royal Oak who is working with LaBelle, entered the room with the boisterous air of uncle who had not seen his nephew in years. They hugged. John had cut his hair short and wore a pair of thick-framed glasses. Pitt said the glasses made him look “professorial,” and John grinned sheepishly. He’s now 20-years-old.
As Pitt updated him on the case and told him to expect a big push for publicity in the media (“we don’t want to be in the back of the newspaper”), John pensively rested his cheek against his outstretched thumb and index finger. He had been up for parole several months earlier, but was denied, and Pitt wondered whether this might be because of his role as a plaintiff in the lawsuit. John admitted, “It crossed my mind.”
Wary of predators and any trouble that could further jeopardize his parole, John keeps to himself these days, reading, watching the news on a small television in his cell, and painting, inspired by the Dali and Matisse he remembers from books his grandmother once gave him. He eventually hopes to go to college or culinary school and become a chef. (Months earlier, when Pitt asked him how he plans on getting into college, his one word answer—“applying”—was the only hint of teenage snark in his otherwise earnest demeanor.)
Although he is still attracted to women, John has a hard time imagining how he’ll form new romantic relationships. He still has flashbacks and nightmares—common symptoms of post-traumatic stress among rape victims, in prison or out—which are sometimes spurred by tiny details: the smell of saliva or shower mold, the feel of tiles like the ones his face was pressed into, a breeze that mimics the breath of an attacker on his neck. His shame can feel like a coating, “like I can’t wash it off, like people can look at me and tell.”
At the same time, John appears ready to be called as a witness should the case against the prison agency go to trial. He has become something of an expert on prison rape. When asked about racial dynamics—many believe that black prisoners tend to rape white prisoners in a kind of revenge for power dynamics in the outside world—John shrugged and said, “If you’re vulnerable it doesn’t matter what color you are.”
PREA commissioners agree that the law itself is only a starting point for a larger cultural change. The personality of the warden is an important factor in whether PREA is taken seriously, and that means implementation can vary widely from place to place even if the policies remain constant. “Prisons are quasi-military,” said commissioner Jamie Fellner, an attorney with Human Rights Watch. “If the people in headquarters wink or shrug their shoulders, that gets passed down the line, from staff to inmates.”
As John learned when he heard guards calling him a “fag,” some officials still make light of prison rape. In January 2014, William Ruhlman shared a photo on his public Facebook page. Ruhlman was the PREA coordinator for the Thumb Correctional Facility, where the state sends inmates under 18. The photo Ruhlman posted depicts the singer Justin Bieber’s mugshot superimposed on a white prisoner. A large black man is holding his arm. “Beliebe me,” the caption reads, “I’ll be gentle.” Ruhlman tagged a friend and added a smiley face.
A screen grab of a Facebook photo posted by prison official William Ruhlman
Ruhlman took the post down from public display after he was contacted for comment and refused to be interviewed. When it was brought to the MDOC’s attention, a spokesperson responded, “The private social media postings that this or any of our other 14,000 employees make during off hours do not reflect the position of the Michigan Department of Corrections, or the great strides we have taken to comply with the federal Prison Rape Elimination Act.” Caruso, the department’s former director, said that she hadn’t seen the post and insisted that every correctional officer she'd ever met took the issue seriously and found prison rape jokes “abhorrent.”
Incidents like this suggest that PREA’s message has yet to be fully internalized by the people who run the prison system, but on the national level advocates remain hopeful of the law’s potential. “Over time, following those rules just becomes habit on the part of staff and it reinforces the message being communicated by wardens and other officials,” says Michele Deitch, a professor at the University of Texas LBJ School of Public Affairs who has written several reports on youth incarcerated with adults. “Culture shifts take time, but they are mobilized by statutes, legal rulings, and other enforceable requirements.”
Sitting in the visitation room on that recent winter morning, John pondered how long it could take to change the culture of rape in prison. It is an effort in which he could play a pivotal role, especially if he takes the stand at a high stakes trial, but also whenever he gets out, grows up, overcomes his shyness and his shame, and tells his story to others. “I feel like prison is 25 years behind the real world,” he said that morning. “In order to understand, you can’t be in the world looking in. You have to be in, looking out.”


* An earlier version of this piece incorrectly identified 13-year-old convict Nathaniel Abraham as Nathaniel Abramson. We regret the error.


 http://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2015/02/rape-in-the-american-prison/385550/

---------------------- 
 
 
 
 
 
Inmates Turned Electricians
May 1, 2007 Amy Florence Fischbach | Electrical Construction and Maintenance
 
 
 
A manslaughter conviction put 24-year-old Patricia Nedella behind bars six years ago. When she walks out of the Arizona State Prison Complex (ASPC) this May, however, she'll leave with more than her personal possessions and a prison record. The former bank employee earned her electrical apprenticeship card while incarcerated, and with her two years of on-the-job experience, she'll be able to earn
A manslaughter conviction put 24-year-old Patricia Nedella behind bars six years ago. When she walks out of the Arizona State Prison Complex (ASPC) this May, however, she'll leave with more than her personal possessions and a prison record. The former bank employee earned her electrical apprenticeship card while incarcerated, and with her two years of on-the-job experience, she'll be able to earn a competitive wage in Arizona's booming construction market. “It's a blessing,” she says. “I couldn't imagine leaving without the knowledge that I have now. This is an amazing program because it gives women self-esteem and helps them to get out into a male-dominated field that they would never step into.”Correctional institutions nationwide are partnering with community colleges and vo-tech training centers to arm inmates like Nedella with vocational and life skills so that, upon release, they can work in the building trades and become more productive members of society.

Technical training

To be eligible for the construction technology program at ASPC-Perryville, the female inmates must have their GED or high school diploma, have been incarcerated for a year or more, and have permission to work outside the prison gates on off-site construction projects. Given the opportunity to study trades such as carpentry, electrical, or plumbing, a maximum of 25 inmates can enroll in the construction technology program at one time. Five of the 20 inmates currently enrolled in the program are studying to be electrical apprentices.
During her two years as a student in the prison's vocational training program, Nedella studied on her own for electrical exams in her jail cell. She also prepared for her contractor's license, attended training sessions in the classroom, earned credits toward an associate's degree in computer technology, and worked 10-hour days on off-site construction projects. She says she feels fortunate to be one of 2,600 inmates given an opportunity to turn her life around.
“You don't have time to think about what you're doing, and you focus on the positive things,” says Nedella during an April phone interview 35 days before her release from prison. “At the end of the day, I have something to give myself credit for, and feel like I'm worth something.”
The Perryville prison in Goodyear, Ariz., offers the same standardized curriculum taught in classrooms nationwide to ensure inmates have up-to-date skills in the electrical field. Students who complete the electrical training modules in prison can earn a journeyman electrician license by continuing the program through the Arizona Builders Alliance or use their skills to find a job in the residential construction industry.
The electrical apprenticeship program within a prison is similar to those offered in the outside world with a few exceptions, says Ernie Adkins, a journeyman electrician and an electrical vocational instructor at ASPC-Perryville. First of all, he's not allowed to teach the inmates about security and access control. Secondly, the prison has a severe restriction on the types of tools that are used by the inmates on the job site.
“We are limited in some areas because of the environment we exist in,” says Adkins.

Inside prison walls

Prison inmates are not only learning the electrical trade by hitting the books and taking exams. They're also honing their skills through hands-on work within the correctional institutions themselves. For example, Nedella earned 35 cents an hour working on the maintenance crew at her prison at nights and on the weekends, which allowed her to gain even more hands-on experience during her incarceration.
By offering vocational programs within prisons, correctional institutions prepare inmates for the outside world as well as save money by using inmates to provide services that would otherwise be awarded to outside firms. For example, at the high-security, male-only Lompoc Federal Penitentiary in Lompoc, Fla., students in the prison's building trade program renovated several of the buildings on the 900-acre farm and in the minimum-security section of the facility.
“You'll find that in federal prisons, inmates do a significant amount of the work for maintenance,” says Erwin Meinberg, public information officer for the U.S. Penitentiary, Lompoc, which had a long-running electrical training program up until one year ago, when the instructor retired and wasn't replaced. “If someone comes into our system with journeyman-level skills, we put them to work on many different things while they're under supervision. We would have to hire hundreds more of staff if we didn't use our inmates for labor. It also keeps them busy and out of trouble.”
A prison in Berlin, N.H., also depends on inmate labor to keep the correctional facility up and running. It pays inmate Russell Morris $3.50 a day to work on the maintenance crew as an apprentice electrician. Morris, who is serving a 10- to 15-year sentence for burglary, completed 576 hours of related technical training and 8,000 hours of on-the-job training at the prison.
“I've learned a trade that I can take with me for the rest of my life upon release,” says Morris, who lives in an 8-foot by 10-foot jail cell with bunk beds bolted to the wall, a television, a tape deck, a desk and chair, and a window that opens and closes. “I've definitely been given a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I never thought I would leave here with the opportunity to be a licensed electrician.”
The 41-year-old former auto body mechanic is the first inmate in the state of New Hampshire to earn his apprenticeship card. His medium-security level prison doesn't offer a vocational training program, but the Department of Labor and the state of New Hampshire sponsored his apprenticeship training. Through his hard work, he ended up earning an “A” average in his coursework.
After working five years to earn his apprenticeship, Morris is still working as an electrician at the prison replacing lamps, ballasts, switches, and circuit breakers and maintaining motors. He has 57 months left to serve in prison, but he will be up for a sentence reduction soon. When he gets out of prison, he plans to work toward his master's electrician's license, stay out of trouble, and go as far as he can in the electrical field. As a convicted felon, he expects to face road blocks, but says he won't let them get him down.
“I'll be on parole when I get out, and I know there's going to be trust issues with employers and meeting new people,” says Morris, who sent letters and a resume to 60 contractors in New Hampshire to make contacts outside of the prison. “I'm just going to take everything that comes at me. I was given an opportunity like no one will ever see, and I'm going to take full advantage of it.”

Preparing inmates for the outside world

While inmates like Morris earn their on-the-job training hours for their apprenticeship by working on the prison's maintenance crew, minimum-security inmates can get hands-on experience outside the prison walls.
Nedella and the other electrical apprentices housed in the minimum-security section of ASPC-Perryville built 10 houses for Habitat for Humanity and wired a portion of the all-male Lewis prison. In late April, she and 19 other inmates worked four days a week on a renovation project at Rio Salado College. On Monday through Thursday, the students boarded a bus at 6 a.m. for a 30-mile trip to the Tempe, Ariz., community college and worked until about 3 p.m. to transform a large open space into an administrative area by building new offices, changing lighting, and rewiring the rooms.
When the Arizona State Prison at Perryville first started its construction training program, the instructors were not allowed to take the students out into the community, says Jo Jorgenson, associate dean of Rio Salado College, which partnered with the Arizona Department of Corrections in 1983 to offer work-based programs. In the recent years, with a new administration, the Department of Corrections has recognized the need to provide the opportunity for inmates to learn skills in an environment that is as akin to a real-world work environment as possible, she says.
“It's one thing to learn about electricity by reading a book; it's quite another to run wire,” says Jorgenson, who has devoted her life to working with incarcerated men and women. “They have to have that opportunity to be employable when they are released.”
To help inmates find jobs once they've served their prison terms and are released, the college often hires vocational instructors with years of industry experience and real-world contacts, she says. Rio Salado hired Adkins, who has more than 20 years of experience, four years ago to lead the vocational training classes at the all-female prison. Adkins regularly calls employers in his spare time to find jobs for his students when they are released from prison. According to Adkins, he has found that electrical contractors rarely have a problem hiring an apprentice electrician with a prison record.
“I've found that it's not much of an issue,” he says. “In only two or three instances, I've had someone that was adamant about not hiring someone with a conviction. Most of the time, they are more than willing to give someone a chance and are rather excited they had the opportunity to help someone. They don't seem to treat them any differently than another person with a journeyman card.”
Fischbach is a freelance writer based in Overland Park, Kan.



Sidebar: Pennsylvania Prisons Train Inmates
for Electrical Trade

About 12 to 14 inmates receive electrical instruction each day at the all-male, medium-security prisons in the cities of Forest and Mercer, Pa. The prisons awarded 38 electricity level certificates in 2006, and students completed 332 modules in the school year, says Richard Lepley, acting division chief for the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections.
The 72.5-hour core curriculum includes the following modules: basic safety, introduction to construction math, introduction to hand tools, introduction to blueprints, basic reading, basic communication skills, and basic employability skills. When students move on to the electrical program, they can pursue three different levels. It takes 180 hours to complete Level 1, which includes electrical safety, bending, fasteners and anchors, electrical theory 1, electrical theory 2, and introduction to the National Electrical Code. The second level covers raceways, boxes, fittings, conductors, introduction to electrical blueprints, wiring, commercial, and industrial. The final level focuses on residential wiring.
When inmates successfully complete the modules, their names are placed into a national registry by the National Center for Construction Education and Research, and they can use the credits upon release or build upon what they started while they're inside prison, Lepley says.
“Through the program, the students can become apprentice electricians,” he says. “We're trying to target inmates who are within three years of being released.”



Sidebar: Fast Facts on Arizona Work-Based Programs

  • Seven community colleges in Arizona offer work-based education programs, such as construction technology, to inmates in 10 different correctional facilities.
  • The state's construction training program costs $1.1 million a year. About $108,000 comes from the general fund, and the remainder comes from profits generated by various inmate industries and funds in the inmate commissary.
  • To educate a prisoner for a year, it costs about $2,100, which is equivalent to the cost of confining a prisoner for 38 days.
Source: Arizona Department of Corrections



Sidebar: Breaking the Cycle

Work-based programs within prisons not only train men and women for an electrical career when they are released from prison, but they also help to reduce the cycle of recidivism, or re-entry into jail. American state and federal prisons released more than 650,000 prisoners in 2006, and more than two-thirds of them will be rearrested within three years of release, according to the U.S. Department of Justice. The Florida Department of Corrections found that inmates who earn a vocational certificate are 14.6% less likely to return to prison than those who don't complete a vocational program.
“There is empirical evidence to show that inmates who are educated during incarceration are less likely to return to prison following their release,” says Jo Jorgenson, associate dean at Rio Salado College in Tempe, Ariz.
 
 http://ecmweb.com/content/inmates-turned-electricians
 
 
 
 ----------------------
 
 
 
 
 

Ethical Considerations for Research Involving Prisoners.

Show details

2Today’s Prisoners

Changing Demographics, Health Issues, and the Current Research Environment
The conditions of confinement in today’s prisons and jails have many of the same characteristics that were of concern to the National Commission for the Protection of Human Subjects of Biomedical and Behavioral Research (NCPHSBBR) some 30 years ago (see Appendix B). Yet important new factors have emerged that require consideration. The correctional population has expanded more than 4.5 fold between 1978 and 2004—from 1.5 million to almost 7 million as a result of tougher sentencing laws and the war on drugs (Bureau of Justice Statistics [BJS], 1997Bureau of Justice Statistics [BJS], 2005a,f,g,h; Human Rights Watch [HRW], 2003; Jacobson, 2005). Just within prisons and jails, the population grew from 454,444 to 2.1 million (BJS, 2005a). The rest of the expansion occurred among probationers and parolees (BJS, 2005g).
In addition, with the closing of large state mental institutions, prisons have effectively become the new mental illness asylums. Prisoners suffer higher rates of communicable diseases, such as human immunodeficiency virus (HIV)/acquired immune deficiency syndrome (AIDS) and hepatitis, than the general population, and chronic diseases such as diabetes are on the rise, especially among the growing older population of prisoners (National Commission on Correctional Health Care [NCCHC], 2002). Health care within some prison systems is less than satisfactory. Through class actions over the inadequacies of state prison health-care systems, the most serious problems were largely addressed and health-care delivery systems were put in place (Metzner, 2002; Sturm, 1993). However, problems remain. Most recently, a federal district court judge placed California’s entire prison medical health-care system into federal receivership, taking it out of control of the state and placing it under the control of a trustee appointed by the court.1 In addition, the entire state prison mental health system is being monitored by another federal court after being found to be providing constitutionally inadequate mental health services to inmates with serious mental illnesses (Coleman v. Wilson, 912 F.Supp. 1282 [E.D.Cal 1995]). And New York regulators have faulted the private firm Prison Health Services in several deaths within the state’s prison system (Von Zielbauer, 2005d). This follows by 30 years the case of Estelle v. Gamble, in which the U.S. Supreme Court articulated a constitutionally protected right to health care in prisons and jails (U.S. Supreme Court, 1976).
The committee’s review of current research indicated that the majority of research involving prisoners is happening outside the purview of Subpart C, and many prisoner studies are being conducted without review or approval by an institutional review board (IRB). Prison research committees that may serve some type of proxy IRB role only infrequently include prisoners or prisoner representatives among their membership. All of these factors point to a population of prisoners who may be more vulnerable and require stronger protections than those inspired by the commission in the 1970s.

CHANGING DEMOGRAPHICS AND HEALTH ISSUES

Descriptions of Prisons, Jails, and Other Correctional Settings

Within the United States, correctional settings, which constrain liberty, entail more than prisons. Local jails, usually county or city facilities, house prisoners from arraignment through conviction and for sentences usually no longer than one year. State and federal prisons incarcerate those sentenced for longer periods. About 6 percent, or close to 99,000 prisoners, are held in privately operated facilities that incarcerate the state and federal overflow (BJS, 2005a). In six states, all in the West, at least one-quarter of all persons in prisons are in private facilities (BJS, 2005a). Several other alternatives to prisons and jails that constrain liberty, including restitution centers, camps, treatment facilities, and electronic monitoring programs, are listed in Table 4-1 (see Chapter 4); specific options within the state of California are provided in Table 4-2 (see Chapter 4). Parole and probation are two other settings in which individuals have restricted liberties by virtue of involvement in the criminal justice system. Parole is used for offenders who are conditionally released from prison to community supervision. An offender is required to observe the conditions of parole and is under the supervision of a parole agency. Parole differs from probation, which is determined by judicial authority and is usually an alternative to initial confinement.

The Prisoner Population

The Incarcerated Population Has Grown Enormously

The total estimated correctional population in the United States in 2004 was very close to 7 million, according to the Bureau of Justice Statistics (2005a). Table 2-1 indicates that the majority of these individuals were on probation (4 million), followed by confinement in prison (1.4 million), on parole (765,355), and confinement in jail (713,990). Overall, the population in 2004 was more than 4.5 times larger than it was in 1978.
TABLE 2-1. Persons Under Adult Correctional Supervision, 1978–2004 Total Estimated.

TABLE 2-1

Persons Under Adult Correctional Supervision, 1978–2004 Total Estimated.
By the end of 2004, the nation’s prisons and jails incarcerated 2.1 million persons (BJS, 2005a) compared with 216,000 in 1974 (BJS, 2003a). Today, two-thirds of inmates are housed in federal and state prisons, and the other third are in local jails.
The numbers in Table 2-1 are point-in-time figures. Annual flow in and out of jail, where incarceration time is comparatively short, provides a useful picture as well. Nearly a quarter (23 percent) of all jail inmates spend 14 days or less in jail, 29 percent are held from 2 to 6 months, 7 percent are held for a year or more (BJS, 2004c). The transitory nature of jail confinement can have an impact on research participation, as discussed in Chapter 4.
Using Department of Justice statistics and trends, the Justice Policy Institute (JPI) based in Washington, D.C., estimated in 2000 that the United States had the world’s largest incarcerated population and highest incarceration rate. Just 6 weeks into the new millennium, America had one-quarter of the world’s prison population, despite having less than 5 percent of the world’s population (JPI, 2002). The U.S. incarceration rate was highest, with 686 per 100,000 of the national population (Walmsley, 2003), followed by the Cayman Islands (664), Russia (638), Belarus (554), Kazakhstan (522), Turkmenistan (489), and Belize (459). More than 62 percent of countries worldwide have rates below 150 per 100,000. By 2004, the U.S. rate had risen to 724 per 100,000 (BJS, 2005a).
Calling the 1990s “the punishing decade,” JPI noted that the imprisoned population grew at a faster rate during the 1990s than during any decade in recorded history (see Figure 2-1). The prison growth during the 1990s dwarfed the growth in any previous decade; it exceeded the prison growth of the 1980s by 61 percent and is nearly 30 times the average prison population growth of any decade before the 1970s (JPI, 2002). This growth has led to serious overcrowding. According to BJS data for 2004 (BJS, 2005a), 24 state departments of corrections and the federal prison system are operating above capacity. The federal prison system is operating at 40 percent above capacity.
FIGURE 2-1. The punishing decade: number of prison and jail inmates, 1910– 2000.

FIGURE 2-1

The punishing decade: number of prison and jail inmates, 1910– 2000. SOURCE: JPI (2002).
The population of prisoners under jail supervision who are confined in settings outside of a jail facility has doubled since 1995 (see Table 2-2). This point is important for the Chapter 4 discussion regarding the definition of the term prisoner. In 2004, jail authorities supervised 70,548 men and women in the community in work-release, weekend reporting, electronic monitoring, and other alternative programs.
TABLE 2-2. Persons Under Jail Supervision, by Confinement Status and Type of Program, Midyear 1995, 2000, and 2002–2004.

TABLE 2-2

Persons Under Jail Supervision, by Confinement Status and Type of Program, Midyear 1995, 2000, and 2002–2004.

Why Has the Prisoner Population Grown?

The exponential growth of prison and jail populations in the last two decades has many causes. Some relate to changes in federal and state sentencing policies, and some reflect the actions of American society in those years as it engaged in a war against drugs. BJS reports that, in 1997, 21 percent of state prisoners and more than 60 percent of federal prisoners were incarcerated for drug offenses (BJS, 1999c). Between 1995 and 2003, 49 percent of the total growth in the federal prison population was from drug offenses (BJS, 2005a). Michael Jacobson, former Commissioner of the New York City Departments of Correction and Probation, argues in his book, Downsizing Prisons (2005), that mandatory minimum sentencing, parole agencies intent on sending people back to prison, three-strike laws (defined below), for-profit prisons, and other changes in the legal system have contributed to the spectacular rise of the general prison population. The Sentencing Project (TSP) came to the same conclusion, stating that rigid sentencing formulas such as mandatory sentencing and truth in sentencing often result in lengthy incarceration (TSP, 2001). According to Human Rights Watch (2003), the U.S. rate of incarceration soared to the highest in the world for the reasons stated previously: “Championed as protecting the public from serious and violent offenders, the new criminal justice policies in fact yielded high rates of confinement for nonviolent offenders. Nationwide, nonviolent offenders account for 72 percent of all new state prison admissions.”
Three-strikes laws impose mandatory life terms or extremely long prison terms without parole for criminals who have been convicted of three felonies involving violence, rape, use of a deadly weapon, or molestation. In some states, such as California, the third felony does not even have to be a violent crime. California’s three-strikes law is considered the toughest in the country, because it can be invoked when a third felony conviction is for a nonviolent crime—even one that could have been charged as a misdemeanor if the prosecutor had wanted to [JPI, 2004; TSP, 2001].) Nationally, half of the states have enacted some form of three-strikes legislation, but only a handful have convicted more than 100 individuals using the statute, led by a wide margin by California, according to the Justice Policy Institute and the Sentencing Project (JPI, 2004; TSP, 2001). “As of mid 1998, only California (40,511 individuals), Georgia (942), South Carolina (825), Nevada (304), Washington, (121), and Florida (116) had been using the three-strikes legislation to any significant extent” (TSP, 2001). Moving into 2004, three strikes was most heavily used in three states, with 42,322 persons incarcerated under the three-strikes law in California, 7,631 in Georgia, and 1,628 in Florida (JPI, 2004).
Reported rates of recidivism for adult offenders in the United States are extraordinarily high, as noted in a report by the Open Society Institute (OSI, 1997): “The national rearrest rate is around 63 percent, and the reimprisonment rate averages around 41 percent.” Among probationers and parolees, recidivism is lower but still occurs. In 2003, 16 percent of probationers were incarcerated because of a rule violation or a new offense (BJS, 2004b). That same year, 38 percent of parolees were incarcerated because of violations of parole conditions (26 percent) or committing a new crime (11 percent) (BJS, 2004b). Parole officers are spending more time on policing whether conditions are violated (with more drug tests, more track ing of movement, and so on) and less on promoting reintegration (Petersilia, 2000).
Finally, admissions to state and federal prisons are outpacing releases (BJS, 2005c). There was also a large increase in parole violators returning to prison between 1990 and 1998. The number of returned parole violators increased 54 percent between 1990 and 1998 (from 133,870 to 206,152) and has since slowed to a 2 percent annual increase (BJS, 2005a).

Who Is in Prison and Jail?

Men far outnumber women in prisons and jails. Men make up 93 percent of all inmates (BJS, 2005a). By the end of 2004, 104,848 women and 1,391,781 men were in state or federal prisons. The female prisoner population has been rising at a faster rate than the male prisoner population (Table 2-3). The overall increase since 1995 for male prisoners is 32 percent and for female prisoners, 53 percent (BJS, 2005a).
TABLE 2-3. Prisoners Under the Jurisdiction of State or Federal Correctional Authorities, by Gender, 1995, 2003, and 2004.

TABLE 2-3

Prisoners Under the Jurisdiction of State or Federal Correctional Authorities, by Gender, 1995, 2003, and 2004.
More women are entering the correctional system Between 1980 and 1998, the number of female inmates under the jurisdiction of federal and state correctional authorities increased more than 500 percent, from about 13,400 in 1980 to roughly 84,400 by the end of 1998, according to the U.S. General Accounting Office (GAO, 1999). In 2004 (BJS, 2005a), that number had risen to 104,848 (Table 2-3). A large percentage of these women (85 percent) were on parole or probation (BJS, 1999b).
Within jails specifically (Table 2-4), between 1990 and 2004, the female inmate population grew 134 percent, whereas the male inmate population grew by 70 percent.
TABLE 2-4. Jail Populations by Gender, 1990– 2004 (1-Day Count).

TABLE 2-4

Jail Populations by Gender, 1990– 2004 (1-Day Count).
Not only is the female population becoming larger, but it is also becoming more diverse. Increasingly, incarcerated women are older and more likely minority and drug abusers than earlier populations of women prisoners (BJS, 2005a; GAO, 1999, 2000).
In Gender-Responsive Strategies for Women Offenders (2005), the National Institute of Corrections (NIC) staff characterize women in the criminal justice system: “Women offenders typically have low incomes and are undereducated and unskilled. They have sporadic employment histories and are disproportionately women of color. They are less likely than men to have committed violent offenses and more likely to have been convicted of crimes involving drugs or property. Often, their property offenses are economically driven, motivated by poverty and by the abuse of alcohol and other drugs.” Women prisoners in general have poorer health than men, with higher rates of mental illness (BJS, 1999a) and HIV infection (BJS, 1999b). Women prisoners also are more likely to report medical problems after admission than men (BJS, 2001b). These data and the rising rates of incarceration among women make health care for women in prison a pressing issue (Young and Reviere, 2001).
Women offenders have needs that are different from those of men, stemming in part from their disproportionate victimization from sexual and physical abuse and their responsibility for children, according to the authors of Women Offenders: Programming Needs and Promising Approaches (BJS, 1998b). In an American Journal of Public Health editorial, Braithwaite et al. (2005) noted that the diverse needs of women are forgotten and neglected in the criminal justice system. Medical concerns that relate to reproductive health and to the psychosocial matters that surround imprisonment of single female heads of households are often overlooked. The authors state that “Women in prison complain of a lack of regular gynecological and breast examinations and say their medical concerns are often dismissed.” They also note the poor physical health of women as they enter the correctional system, with higher than average risk for high-risk pregnancies, HIV/AIDS, hepatitis C, and human papillomavirus infection, a risk factor for cervical cancer. Nearly 6 in 10 women in state prisons had experienced physical or sexual abuse in the past (BJS, 1999b).
“Women have more severe substance abuse histories by the time they come to the attention of the criminal justice system,” said Nena P. Messina, Ph.D., a criminologist at University of California, Los Angeles Integrated Substance Abuse Programs. “That means they are using drugs on a daily basis. They are more likely to be injecting drugs, using multiple drugs, and trading sex for drugs and money. Their histories and their paths to substance abuse and crime are very different than men’s.” Messina described her experience with women prisoners at the July 2005 meeting of this Institute of Medicine (IOM) committee.
In a survey of prisoners in New Jersey (Blitz et al., 2005), researchers found that women were more likely to be classified as special needs inmates (those with behavioral health disorders) than men (37 percent versus 16 percent). An active addiction disorder was present in one-half to three-quarters of women with behavioral health disorders. National data collected by the BJS in 1998 also showed more women than men (20 percent versus 16 percent) are diagnosed with mental disorders (BJS, 1999a).
Although substance abuse is common, drug rehabilitation programs are not common in these institutions (Braithwaite et al., 2005). Consequently, when women prisoners are released, they are at high risk of falling back into addiction with exposure to the environmental pressures that led them there in the first place.
Women are also more likely than men to be solely responsible for their children. Two-thirds of incarcerated women have children younger than 18 years (BJS, 1999b). Approximately 1.3 million children in the United States have mothers under correctional supervision (Table 2-5). Just under a quarter million children have mothers who are serving time in prison or jail (BJS, 1999b).
TABLE 2-5. Children of Women Under Correctional Supervision, 1998.

TABLE 2-5

Children of Women Under Correctional Supervision, 1998.
Racial and ethnic disparities Blacks and Hispanics are disproportionately represented in prison and jail populations. At midyear 2004, an estimated 12.6 percent of all black males in their late 20s were in prisons or jails compared with 3.6 percent of Hispanic males and 1.7 percent of white males (BJS, 2005c). Young black men are particularly hit hard. One in eight black men in their late 20s is incarcerated on any given day (Mauer & King, 2004). A report of the National Center on Institutions and Alternatives (Lotke, 1997) indicated that in the District of Columbia, 50 percent of young black men ages 18 to 35 were under criminal justice supervision (in prison, jail, probation, parole, out on bond, or being sought on a warrant). Table 2-6 shows jail incarceration rates by race and ethnicity from 1990 through 2004.
TABLE 2-6. Jail Incarceration Rates by Race and Ethnicity, 1990–2004.

TABLE 2-6

Jail Incarceration Rates by Race and Ethnicity, 1990–2004.
Educational level and reading skills of prisoners Often individuals come into the correctional system with little education and, therefore, poor reading, writing, math, and oral communication skills (Haigler et al., 1994; Spangenberg, 2004). Poor reading and communication skills pose a challenge to informed consent, which is often handled through written documents, and points to the importance of ensuring that informed consent procedures are monitored to determine that prisoners truly understand what they are consenting to. The BJS (2003b) reported on the poor educa tion level of prisoners. Forty-one percent of inmates in the nation’s state and federal prisons and local jails and 31 percent of probationers had not completed high school or its equivalent (Table 2-7). In comparison, 18 percent of the general population age 18 or older had not finished the twelfth grade. Minority prisoners had lower education levels than whites (53 percent of Hispanics, 44 percent of blacks, and 27 percent of whites had no diploma or general equivalency diploma). The same report indicates that less educated prisoners were less likely to have jobs before they entered prison and more likely to have a prior sentence, to be sentenced as juveniles, and to return to prison after release.
TABLE 2-7. Educational Attainment for Correctional Populations and the General Population, 1997.

TABLE 2-7

Educational Attainment for Correctional Populations and the General Population, 1997.
Prisoners tend to leave the system poorly educated as well. According to a 1997 report by the OSI, Education As Crime Prevention: Providing Education to Prisoners, in the shift from rehabilitation to punishment and the exponential population growth, educational and vocational programs, which, OSI notes, correlate positively with the ability to remain out of prison, have been substantially reduced. Despite evidence supporting the connection between higher education and lowered levels of recidivism, the Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act of 1994 ended access to federal Pell Grants for undergraduate education to all prisoners. At least 25 states cut back on vocational and technical training programs since the Pell Grants were cut. In 1990, there were 350 higher education programs for inmates; by 1997, only 8.
Eight in 10 state prisons offer basic education and high school courses (BJS, 2003b). Fewer than one in three offer college classes. College, vocational, and high school courses are most common in federal prisons and least common in private prisons. For example, college courses are offered by 80 percent of federal prisons and 27 percent of private prisons. However, less than 20 percent of prisoners participated in college courses while incarcerated; this percentage dropped between 1991 and 1997 (Table 2-8). Vocational courses are more popular, taken by about one in three inmates in state and federal prisons.
TABLE 2-8. Participation in Educational Programs Since Most Recent Incarceration or Sentence, for State and Federal Prison Inmates, 1997 and 1991, for Local Jail Inmates, 1996, and for Probationers, 1995.

TABLE 2-8

Participation in Educational Programs Since Most Recent Incarceration or Sentence, for State and Federal Prison Inmates, 1997 and 1991, for Local Jail Inmates, 1996, and for Probationers, 1995.
Age of inmates The U.S. prison population is aging (BJS, 2004d). By year end 2003, 28 percent of all inmates were ages 40 to 54 (up from 22 percent in 1995). Inmates age 55 and older have experienced the largest percent change—an increase of 85 percent since 1995. However, they are still a small group, relative to inmates in other age groups, accounting for 4.3 percent of all inmates in 2003, up from 3.0 percent in 1995 (BJS, 2004d; TSP, 2005). According to the Sentencing Project, California’s three-strikes law contributed to a rapid aging of the California prison population in the first 7 years since it was instituted (King and Mauer, 2001). The authors projected that, in 2026, 30,000 three-strikes prisoners will be serving sentences of 25 years to life. In California, new felony admissions of prisoners older than 40 increased from 15.3 percent in 1994 to 23.1 percent in 1999.
A survey by the New York Times (Liptak, 2005) found that 132,000 of the nation’s prisoners are serving life sentences. The number of “lifers” has almost doubled in the last decade, far outpacing the overall growth of the prison population. About one-third of the lifers sentenced between 1988 and 2001 are serving time for crimes other than murder, including burglary and drug crimes. Fewer lifers have a chance of parole. In 1993, the New York Times survey found that about 20 percent of lifers had no chance of parole. In 2004, that number rose to 28 percent. As a result, the United States has a large and permanent population of prisoners who will die of old age behind bars. According to the Sentencing Project (Mauer et al., 2004), the increase in life sentences reflects changes in state policies, not continuous increases in violent crimes.
These figures on the graying of the prison population indicate that a small, but growing segment of today’s prisoners face chronic diseases, such as diabetes and heart disease.

Health Status of Inmates

A highly disproportionate number of inmates suffer from infectious diseases, chronic diseases, and mental illness compared with the rest of the nation’s population. According to a 3-year study requested by Congress and delivered in May 2002 by the National Commission on Correctional Health Care (The Health Status of Soon-to-Be-Released Inmates), tens of thousands of inmates are being released into the community every year with undiagnosed or untreated communicable disease, chronic disease, addiction, and mental illness (NCCHC, 2002). The report paints a picture of a large and concentrated population at high risk for communicable and chronic diseases.
Communicable diseases During 1996, about 3 percent of the U.S. population spent time in a prison or jail; however, between 12 and 35 percent of the total number of people with certain communicable diseases in the nation passed through a correctional facility during that same year (NCCHC, 2002). There were an estimated 107,000 to 137,000 cases of sexually transmitted diseases (STDs) among inmates in 1997 and at least 465,000 STD cases among releasees.
Hepatitis Hepatitis B and C are viral diseases that attack the liver. Both can cause lifelong infection, cirrhosis of the liver, cancer, liver failure, and death (BJS, 2004a; National Institutes of Health [NIH], 2002). Both viruses are spread through infected blood, most commonly via shared needles used to inject illegal drugs and through sexual contact. Nearly 2 percent of the U.S. population is chronically infected with hepatitis C virus (Hammett et al., 2002), while studies in prison populations in California, Virginia, Connecticut, Maryland, and Texas have found evidence of hepatitis C infection in 29 to 42 percent of prisoners (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention [CDC], 2002). Across the country, hepatitis C infection rates for prisoners are estimated at 15 to 30 percent. Between 1.3 and 1.4 million prisoners released from prison or jail in 1996 were infected with hepatitis C (NCCHC, 2002). The prevalence of hepatitis B infection among incarcerated individuals has been reported to range from 8 to 43 percent (Khan et al., 2005), while the rate in the U.S. population as a whole is 4.9 percent. In a state correctional facility in Georgia (housing up to 1,340 male inmates, one-third of whom are transferred or released each year), and within Rhode Island’s prison system, there was a high prevalence of hepatitis B, and a high rate of ongoing HBV transmission (Khan et al., 2005).
Antiviral therapies for chronic hepatitis B and C are complicated, have limited effectiveness, and are not appropriate for everyone (CDC, 2002). Hepatitis B vaccination is recommended for incarcerated individuals (CDC, 2003). Although vaccination is offered to some inmate populations in state and federal correctional settings, universal immunization is not common (Khan et al., 2005).
HIV/AIDS At year end 2003, there were 23,659 inmates in state and federal prisons known to be infected with HIV (BJS, 2005d). Female prisoners were more likely to be HIV positive than male prisoners. Overall, 1.9 percent of male inmates and 2.8 percent of all female inmates were known to be HIV positive. In two states, more than 10 percent of the female inmate population was HIV positive (New York State: 14.6 percent; Maryland: 11.1 percent).
The overall rate of confirmed AIDS cases among the prison population (0.51 percent) was more than three times the rate in the U.S. general population (0.15 percent). In 2002 the percentage of deaths from AIDS was more than two times higher in the prison population than in the U.S. general population among individuals ages 15 to 54 years. About 1 in every 11 prisoner deaths were attributable to AIDS-related causes compared with 1 in 23 deaths in the general population. AIDS is the second leading cause of death in prisons (BJS, 2003d).
Tuberculosis Tuberculosis (TB) is an airborne disease that thrives among people who live in close quarters (Restum, 2005). About 12,000 people who had active TB during 1996 served time in a correctional facility during that year (NCCHC, 2002). More than 130,000 inmates tested positive for latent TB infection in 1997. An estimated 566,000 inmates with latent TB infection were released in 1996. More recent data (MacNeil et al., 2005) indicate that TB rates remain higher in prison systems than in the general population, and that prisoners with TB are less likely than noninmates to complete treatment. From 1993 to 2003, the percentage of TB cases among local jail inmates increased from 42.8 percent to 53.5 percent. Cases among federal inmates increased from 2.9 percent to 11.8 percent. Inmates with TB were more likely to be coinfected with HIV than noninmates with TB. Outbreaks of multidrug-resistant TB related to HIV coinfection have been documented in correctional facilities. The authors note: “Correctional systems, especially jails, offer distinct logistical obstacles to screening and treatment; inmates are moved frequently or are released, making evaluation and completion of therapy difficult at best.”
Chronic diseases The National Commission on Correctional Health Care report (NCCHC, 2002) provided 1995 prevalence estimates for certain chronic diseases among federal, state, and local inmates: Asthma was estimated at 8 to 9 percent, diabetes at 5 percent, and hypertension at 18 percent. Figures on federal prisoners alone (BJS, 2001b) are somewhat lower: asthma at about 4 percent, diabetes at 4 percent, and hypertension at 8 percent. BJS (2001b) noted that inmate self-reported data may underestimate the prevalence of some medical conditions, especially those problems that require more sophisticated diagnosis and those that are more sensitive in nature. For many conditions, inmate self-reports are the only source of information.
Most state prison systems lack comprehensive and accessible data on the health status of their prisoners. A 1998 inventory of state and federal correctional information systems found that 20 states had electronic information systems that could identify offenders with physical disabilities at admission, 22 had systems that could identify inmates with mental or emotional problems, and 22 could identify inmates with specialized medical conditions. Eighteen states had this information electronically on current medical conditions for more than 75 percent of their inmates (BJS, 1998c).
Mental illness “Prisons are the largest mental health institutions in our country,” stated Darrel A. Reiger, M.D., M.P.H., deputy medical director of the American Psychiatric Association, in his October 19, 2005, remarks to the committee. More than a quarter-million mentally ill individuals were incarcerated in a prison or jail at midyear 1998 (BJS, 1999a). In 1998, more than 179,000 offenders in state prisons, 7,900 in federal prisons, 96,700 in local jails, and almost 548,000 probationers were identified as mentally ill (Table 2-9). In this BJS survey, prisoners were counted as mentally ill if they answered yes to either of two questions, “Do you have a mental or emotional condition?” or “Because of emotional or mental condition, have you ever been admitted to a mental hospital, unit, or treatment program where you stayed overnight?” Mental illness is identified more often in women and whites, and the incidence increases with age. Mentally ill prisoners tend to serve longer sentences and experience more disciplinary problems while in prison. In addition, approximately 75 percent of people with serious mental illnesses in the criminal justice system have a co-occurring substance abuse disorder (New Freedom Commission on Mental Health [NFCMH], 2004).
TABLE 2-9. Inmates and Probationers Identified as Mentally Ill, by Gender, Race/Hispanic Origin, and Age, Midyear 1998.

TABLE 2-9

Inmates and Probationers Identified as Mentally Ill, by Gender, Race/Hispanic Origin, and Age, Midyear 1998.
Anxiety disorders and major depression were the most common mental illness diagnoses in jails and state prisons (Table 2-10). The prevalence of mental illnesses appears to rise when moving from local jails to state prisons.
TABLE 2-10. Estimated Prevalence of Mental Illness, 1999.

TABLE 2-10

Estimated Prevalence of Mental Illness, 1999.
Six in 10 mentally ill prisoners received treatment while incarcerated in a state or federal prison. Only 4 in 10 in local jails received treatment (BJS, 1999a). Women were more likely than men to receive mental health services while incarcerated (Table 2-11). Whites were more likely than blacks and Hispanics to receive mental health services (NFCMH, 2004). Mental health treatment is lacking for probationers and parolees as well. In 1998, probationers serving their current sentence had less exposure to mental health treatment compared with confined prisoners. Specifically, mentally ill probationers were less likely than state and federal prisoners to have taken a psychiatric medication, to have received any mental health service, or to have been hospitalized for their condition, although they were just as likely to have received counseling or therapy (BJS, 1999a). Furthermore, less than half of the probationers (43 percent) who were required to engage in mental health treatment had actually participated (BJS, 1999a).
TABLE 2-11. Percent of Mentally Ill Receiving Mental Health Services While Incarcerated, 1998.

TABLE 2-11

Percent of Mentally Ill Receiving Mental Health Services While Incarcerated, 1998.
Human Rights Watch (2003) has called prison mental health services “woefully deficient.” Too often, they state, seriously ill prisoners are neglected, accused of malingering, or treated as disciplinary problems.
Without the necessary care, mentally ill prisoners suffer painful symptoms and their conditions can deteriorate. They are afflicted with delusions and hallucinations, debilitating fears, extreme and uncontrollable mood swings. They huddle silently in their cells, mumble incoherently, or yell incessantly. They refuse to obey orders or lash out without apparent provocation. They beat their heads against cell walls, smear themselves with feces, self-mutilate, and commit suicide. Prisons were never intended as facilities for the mentally ill, yet that is one of their primary roles today. Many of the men and women who cannot get mental health treatment in the community are swept into the criminal justice system after they commit a crime. In the United States, there are three times more mentally ill people in prisons than in mental health hospitals, and prisoners have rates of mental illness that are two to four times greater than the rates of members of the general public.
Substance abuse Drug and alcohol use and abuse play major roles in the lives of prisoners. Overall, three of four state prisoners and four of five federal prisoners are characterized as alcohol- or drug-involved offenders, according to a BJS report (BJS, 1999c). A history of drug and alcohol use and abuse was also common among probationers and parolees. In 1995, a U.S. Department of Justice survey found that 70 percent of probationers reported drug use in the past, 32 percent during the month before the crime, and 14 percent at the time of the crime (BJS, 1998a). A large number of parolees were also involved with drugs and alcohol. In 1991, more than half of parolees (54 percent) had used drugs in the month preceding their most recent crime, and 41 percent reported daily use during the same time period (BJS, 1995).
Injury, violence, rape, and suicide Prisoners face violence and injury within correctional settings. More than one-quarter of state and federal inmates reported being injured since admission to prison (Table 2-12). The likeli hood of injury increases with time served in prison, as does the likelihood of a medical problem (Table 2-13).
TABLE 2-12. Reason for Injury During Incarceration, 1999.

TABLE 2-12

Reason for Injury During Incarceration, 1999.
TABLE 2-13. Likelihood of Injury Based on Time in Prison, 1999.

TABLE 2-13

Likelihood of Injury Based on Time in Prison, 1999.
In 2000, there were 34,355 assaults by state and federal prisoners against other inmates, and 51 prisoners died as a result of those violent actions (BJS, 2003d). These numbers do not capture assaults against officers and others who work in the nation’s jails.
In 1999, nearly 22 percent of state inmates had a history of being injured while in prison (BJS, 2001b). Overall, 7 percent of state inmates were injured in a fight while in prison.
According to the 2003 Prison Rape Elimination Act,2 more than 1 million people have been sexually assaulted in prisons over the past 20 years. The act also describes the devastating effects of sexual assault in this context: an increase in other types of violence, including murder, involving inmates and staff, and long-lasting trauma, which makes it even more difficult for people to succeed in the community after release.
In 2005, the BJS completed the first-ever national survey of administrative records on sexual violence in adult and juvenile correctional facilities (BJS, 2005b). This covers only reported incidents and thus provides just a partial picture. The survey included 2,700 adult and juvenile facilities. Nationwide in 2004, there were 8,210 allegations of sexual violence reported: 42 percent of allegations involved staff sexual misconduct; 37 percent were inmate-on-inmate nonconsensual sexual acts; 11 percent, staff sexual harassment; and 10 percent, abusive sexual contact. Correctional authorities reported 3.15 allegations of sexual violence per 1,000 inmates held in 2004. Ninety percent of victims and perpetrators of inmate-on-inmate nonconsensual sexual acts in prison and jail were male.

Where Are Prisoners Incarcerated and How Are They Provided Services?

Since 1995, the federal system has grown at a much faster rate than state systems, peaking at 6 percent growth in the first 6 months of 1999 (BJS, 2005a). In 2004, the number of federal inmates increased 4.2 percent, more than twice the rate of state growth (1.6 percent). In 2004, private facilities held 6.6 percent of all state and federal inmates. However, six states, all in the West, had at least one-quarter of their prisoners in private facilities (BJS, 2005a). This does not account for the much larger population of prisoners on probation and parole and those who can be found in a wide variety of “alternative to incarceration” or community settings (see Tables 4-1 and 4-2).
Dislocation of inmates from local to distant jurisdictions Many states are outsourcing their prisoners to other state institutions away from urban areas and to a growing for-profit correctional business. In October 1999, according to a GAO (1999) report, about 30 percent of female inmates and 24 percent of male inmates in federal prisons were assigned to facilities more than 500 miles from their release residences. In situations in which prisoners are housed great distances from their homes, prisoners can lose total contact with their families. Because 64 percent of federal inmates have minor children, this is a great hardship for them and a burden for their children (BJS, 2000b). Schafer (1994) conducted a survey of visitors to two men’s prisons and found that maintenance of family ties during incarceration is significantly related to successful completion of parole.
Increased use of isolation in punishment of inmates The United States has more than 60 supermaximum confinement facilities, housing well over 20,000 people (NIC, 1997). Rhodes (2005) describes the fortresslike facilities that force complete isolation and says that U.S. reliance on isolation is due to many factors, including political pressure for harsh sentencing, population pressure inside prison systems, and the internal architectural and staffing features of general population units. A study in Washington State (Lovell et al., 2000), which provides medium- and maximum-security psychiatric facilities, noted that the number of mentally ill inmates far exceeds available beds. As a consequence, some disturbed prisoners are held in supermaximum units. They found that 20 to 25 percent of supermaximum inmates showed strong evidence of mental illness.
Human Rights Watch (HRW, 2000) described life in isolation in supermaximum confinement in its 2000 report, Out of Sight: Super-Maximum Security Confinement in the United States:
Prisoners in [supermaximum] facilities typically spend their waking and sleeping hours locked in small, sometimes windowless, cells sealed with solid steel doors. A few times a week they are let out for showers and solitary exercise in a small, enclosed space. Supermax prisoners have almost no access to educational or recreational activities or other sources of mental stimulation and are usually handcuffed, shackled and escorted by two or three correctional officers every time they leave their cells. Assignment to supermax housing is usually for an indefinite period that may continue for years. Although supermax facilities are ostensibly designed to house incorrigibly violent or dangerous inmates, many of the inmates confined in them do not meet those criteria.
Quality of health care provided The U.S. Supreme Court ruled in Estelle v. Gamble (429 U.S. Part 97 [1976]) that “deliberate indifference to serious medical needs of prisoners constitutes the ‘unnecessary and wanton infliction of pain’ proscribed by the Eighth Amendment.” The court in Estelle v. Gamble made clear, however, that a right to adequate medical care did not mean that “prisoners will have unqualified access to health care.”
Coleman et al. (2005) noted that inadequacies of health care in most correctional settings existed in the 1970s and continue today: “Federal court decisions have documented continuing and severe health deprivations in many states.”
“I have litigated my whole life about health care in prisons, seeing that it needs improvement,” said Jack Beck, director of the Prison Visiting Project at the Correctional Association of New York at an October 2005 meeting of this committee. “However, it is an overstatement to say that no appropriate health care occurs in prisons throughout the United States. I think there are some places where it does occur. Is it a minority? Absolutely. But I think it does occur in some places.” Mr. Beck is a member of the committee’s Prisoner Liaison Panel.
Model programs exist, however, NCCHC states that “many correctional agencies are doing too little to address communicable disease, chronic disease, and mental illness” (NCCHC, 2002). Few prison or jail systems have implemented comprehensive HIV-prevention programs in all their facilities. About 10 percent of state and federal prisons and 50 percent of jails do not adhere to CDC standards for screening and treating latent TB infection and active disease. Most prisons and jails fail to conform to nationally accepted health-care guidelines for mental health screening and treatment. Finally, of 41 state correctional systems responding to a survey conducted for the NCCHC report, just over half (24) reported having protocols for diabetes, 25 for hypertension, and 26 for asthma.
In July 2005, a federal judge ordered that a receiver take control of California’s prison health-care system and correct what he called deplorable conditions that led to 64 unnecessary inmate deaths each year because of poor medical care (see Box 2-1). California houses approximately 164,000 inmates at 33 state prisons. The state expects to spend $1.1 billion on prison health care this year (Sterngold, 2005). Many U.S. state systems have been sued over the quality of their health care (Metzner, 2002; Sturm, 1993).
Box Icon

BOX 2-1

California Prison Systems Medical Care System in Receivership. By all accounts, the California prison medical care system is broken beyond repair. The harm already done in this care to California’s prison inmate population could not be more grave, (more...)
Health care for profit does not always offer a better alternative, according to a blistering series published in 2005 in the New York Times. The entry of Prison Health Services at Rikers Island in January 2001 made New York State’s jail system the largest in the nation to entrust its health care to a commercial enterprise (Von Zielbauer, 2005b). Since then, state regulators have faulted Prison Health Services in several deaths (Von Zielbauer, 2005d).
“Medical care within the Federal Bureau of Prisons (FBOP) is symbolic, with minimal expectations of improving prison ers’ health,” writes Daniel S. Murphy, a member of the committee’s prisoner liaison panel who experienced prison medical care firsthand and then obtained a doctorate degree and completed an in-depth analysis of medical directives and policies and the realities of medical care (2005). His article contains several firsthand accounts from prisoners whose medical needs were not met. He concludes: “Many prisoners are condemned to death due to a lack of fundamental medical care.”
A year-long examination of Prison Health [Services] by the New York Times revealed repeated instances of medical care that was flawed and sometimes lethal. The company’s performance around the nation provoked criticism from judges and sheriffs, lawsuits from inmates’ families and whistle-blowers, and condemnations by federal, state, and local authorities. The company has paid millions of dollars in fines and settlements. Despite a tarnished record, Prison Health has sold its promise of lower costs and better care and become the biggest for-profit company providing medical care in jails and prisons. It has amassed 86 contracts in 28 states, and now cares for 237,000 inmates, or about one in every 10 people behind bars (Von Zielbauer, 2005a).
“They put you out of the prison at midnight, to save a day of expenses. If you are lucky, you get a month’s worth of medications, but maybe only 10 days. Unless you live in Rhode Island, Connecticut, and maybe Massachusetts, you don’t get discharge planning,” explained David P. Paar, M.D., director, AIDS Care and Clinical Research Program, University of Texas Medical Branch in Galveston. “They put you out of the prison into another traumatic situation. ‘Where are my drugs coming from? Where am I going to get medical care? Who is going to take care of my kids.’ You immediately go back to substance use and you miss the opportunity to change your life. That is the linkage between post-traumatic stress disorder, acquisition of blood-borne diseases, prison, and recidivism.” Dr. Parr spoke to the committee at its July 2005 meeting.
The New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene, which oversees the work of Prison Public Health Services Inc. at Rikers Island and at a jail in Lower Manhattan, found that during the first quarter of 2005, Prison Health failed to earn a passing grade on 12 of 39 performance standards the city sets for treating jail inmates. Some of the problems, like incomplete medical records or slipshod evaluations of mentally ill inmates, have been evident since 2004 but have not been corrected, according to health department reports. The company did not meet standards on practices ranging from HIV and diabetes therapy to the timely distribution of medication to adequately conducting mental health evaluations (Von Zielbauer, 2005c)
Public health implications of inadequate health care for prisoners The high recidivism rate in state and federal prisons, poor screening3 and treatment for prisoners, and inferior follow-up health care on their release are a growing threat to U.S. rates of deadly communicable diseases, such as HIV/ AIDS, hepatitis B and C, and TB (NCCHC, 2002; Restum, 2005). Prisoners are leaving prisons and jails and returning to their communities with a plethora of unaddressed health issues (NCCHC, 2002), including mental health and substance abuse problems. In 1992, prisoners who were expecting to be released to the community without supervision by 1999 had the following mental health and substance abuse problems: 14 percent were mentally ill, 25 percent were alcohol dependent, 42 percent reported the use of alcohol at the time of the offense, 59 percent reported drug use in the month before the offense and 45 percent at the time of the offense, 25 percent reported intravenous drug use in the past, and 12 percent were homeless when they were arrested (BJS, 2001a).
Mental illness and addiction disorders amplify the difficulties that prisoners face on release (Pogorzelski et al., 2005). In a study including adult women returning home from New York City jails (Freudenberg et al., 2005), annual incomes were well below poverty level, anxiety and depression increased in the postrelease period (from 15 percent to 25 percent), and rearrest rates were high (39 percent for adult women at 15 months after release). The authors concluded that public policies created a class of people who are perpetually labeled as unqualified for public support, limiting or precluding access to health insurance, public housing, and employment opportunities.

History of Research with Prisoners

In 1997, Hornblum detailed the history of prisoners as research subjects in 20th-century America, stating that “From the early years of this century, the use of prison inmates as raw material for medical experiments became an increasingly valuable component of American scientific research. Postwar American research grew rapidly, as prisoners became the backbone of a lucrative system predicated on utilitarian interests. Uneducated and financially desperate prisoners “volunteered” for medical experiments that ranged from tropical and sexually transmitted diseases to polio, cancer, and chemical warfare.” By the 1960s, new drug-testing regulations mandated by the Food and Drug Administration permitted increased human experimentation as large pharmaceutical companies sought stronger relationships with penal institutions. This article references earlier work by Jessica Mitford (1974), plus reports of prisoner involvement in studies of treatments for malaria, syphilis vaccines, radiation experiments, and more. In his 1998 book, Acres of Skin: Human Experiments at Holmesburg Prison, Hornblum details the medical experimentation that went on in one facility, Holmesburg Prison, a county facility in Philadelphia, which he says became a “supermarket of investigatory opportunity,” where an array of studies explored everything from simple detergents and diet drinks to dioxin and chemical warfare agents. Sponsors included major pharmaceutical houses, RJ Reynolds, Dow Chemical, and the U.S. Army. From 1962 to 1966, a total of 33 pharmaceutical companies tested 153 experimental drugs at Holmesburg Prison alone, including Retin-A. After the national commission’s 1976 report, medical research in prisons was sharply curtailed.
Echoes of Tuskegee and Retin-A Attitudes of blacks toward medical care in general and medical care within the prison system are extremely complicated and have become even more so since the emergence of AIDS. In communities of color, among some community members and advocates there was, and still is, a suspicion that AIDS was created in some form or fashion by sinister forces, either government or otherwise as a part of a scourge on black persons (Dalton, 1989). This suspicion was grafted onto an existing and ongoing refusal to participate in research, which is considered in the black communities, as “being used as guinea pigs.” Much of this is the legacy of Tuskegee and of Retin-A. In the first, the Tuskegee experi ments, black men in Tuskegee, Alabama, in the 1930s were enrolled in a research project designed and funded by the U.S. Public Health Service and intended to gather data on the natural history of syphilis, although the subjects were not told the real purpose. They were lied to and thought that they were gaining some sort of access to medical care and to funding for a burial on death. In the years after the project’s funding, treatments were developed but were not offered to this cohort. Indeed, if the men moved from the Tuskegee site they were followed and a nurse was charged with ensuring that they did not gain access to care at another location.
After having been discussed in the scholarly literature for decades, the study was finally exposed in the popular press. The public was horrified by the conduct, planning, and execution of the study. This study, revealed in 1972 (Jones, 1993), was still alive in the consciousness of communities of color in the early 1980s when AIDS was identified and treatments began to be developed. A set of realities then converged: All treatment for AIDS during the 1980s was under protocols through the 1980s; a disproportionate number of persons of color and inmates had AIDS because needle sharing was one of the main routes of transmission; the war on drugs placed drug users in prison; and the only available treatment was provided under the label of research.
Retin-A was developed in Holmesburg Prison in Pennsylvania (Hornblum, 1998). In these experiments, it appears that prisoners were not told the possible immediate and long-term consequences of their participation and were not adequately treated for pain and suffering. Paradoxically, however, the AIDS epidemic was the occasion for some prisoner advocacy groups to contest the categorical restrictions of Subpart C. Inmates told prisoners’ rights groups that they wanted “access to, not protection from” protocols offering treatments for AIDS. Despite the fact that these protocols described research and not treatment, they were sought as the only alternative to certain death. However, even in these requests, the mix of treatment and research, the lack of quality medical treatment in general, the history of mistreatment of prisoners in medical research (such as the Retin-A studies), and the epidemiology of AIDS made discussions of research in prisons fraught with emotion.

Implications of Demographics for the Ethical Conduct of Research

The limitations on personal freedoms and inadequacies in health care carry important challenges for the ethical conduct of research involving prisoners. (A more complete discussion of an ethical framework for research with prisoners is contained in Chapter 5.) Two areas in which the impact is clear are informed consent and privacy.
The ability of prisoners to provide ethically adequate informed consent Obtaining informed consent is a challenge because of several factors discussed in this chapter. Many prisoners have poor reading and communication skills (Haigler et al., 1994; Spangenberg, 2004), yet informed consent documents are often written for college-level readers (Sharp, 2004). In addition, correctional institutions are closed facilities that are designed to confine and punish. Medical care is designed to diagnose, comfort, and cure. These are mutually incompatible purposes from which flow many of the ethical dilemmas of care and, secondarily, of research in these settings (Anno and Dubler, 2001). Over the last three decades, the goal of rehabilitation has largely been replaced by goals of confinement and punishment. During the same period, despite the Supreme Court’s holding that a constitutional right to health care exists for prisoners, problems remain in health-care delivery (NCCHC, 2002; Restum, 2005).
When correctional health care services are inadequate, voluntary informed consent becomes a greater challenge (Anno and Dubler, 2001). The absence of adequate health care arguably creates a coercive influence on prisoners, who may feel compelled to join investigative trials to access decent medical treatment available only through research protocols. Within correctional settings, the problem of dual loyalty—conflicts between the ethic of undivided loyalty to patients and pressure to use clinical methods and judgment for social purposes and on behalf of third parties—is a particular challenge (Bloche, 1999; Physicians for Human Rights [PHR], 2003). Although NCCHC standards require an independent medical staff, to the extent that the medical staff is part of the prison, their role as patient advocates may be discouraged. For example, prison physicians have been asked to medicate prisoners to quell physical resistance, to restore competence to stand trial, or to prepare for execution. Some states have put a stop to these practices, for example, forbidding psychiatrists from medicating condemned prisoners to make them competent for execution (Bloche, 2006); others have not.
Barriers to privacy and right to consent or refuse care The sanctity of the provider-patient relationship, the right to privacy and confidential care, and the voluntary informed decision whether to consent to or refuse care can be compromised in correctional settings. Maintaining privacy can be a monumentally difficult task. Confidential health information may be surmised from factors as simple as in an inmate’s movement, a cell search, or a pattern of scheduled visits. It is a given, even in an independent medical service, that information that might be relevant to correctional officials will be shared for the good of the community, such as for the purpose of avoiding danger to the inhabitants (Dubler and Sidel, 1989).
It is but just that the public be required to care for the prisoner, who cannot, by reason of the deprivation of his liberty, care for himself.
Spicer v. Williamson,
Supreme Court of North Carolina (1926)4
Because of incarceration, the legal context of providing medical, dental, and mental health services is different in prisons and jails from that in the outside community. In no other setting are such services constitutionally guaranteed. Drawing upon the prohibition against “cruel and unusual punishment” in the Eighth Amendment to the Constitution (and the due process clauses of the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments for juveniles, pretrial detainees, and federal prisoners), the courts require that institutions with custody of human beings provide for their basic necessities, including health care.
The legal framework was established in the 1976 landmark decision of Estelle v. Gamble,5 in which the Supreme Court ruled that prisoners have a right to be free of “deliberate indifference to their serious health-care needs.” In the hundreds of published cases following Estelle, three basic rights have emerged: the right to access to care, the right to care that is ordered, and the right to a professional medical judgment. The failure of correctional officials to honor these rights has resulted in protracted litigation and the issuance of injunctions regarding the delivery of health-care services (Winner, 1981).6,7,8
A mentally competent adult has a constitutional right to refuse medical treatment, including the direction that life-saving or other extraordinary measures be withdrawn in terminal cases (Cruzan v. Missouri Department of Health).9 As Judge Cardozo stated almost 80 years ago: “Every human being of adult years and sound mind has a right to determine what shall be done with his own body” (Schloendorff v. Society of New York Hospitals).10 This right extends to prisoners as well (White v. Napoleon).11 The right to refuse is based on the concept of informed consent:
A prisoner’s right to refuse treatment is useless without knowledge of the proposed treatment. Prisoners have a right to such information as is reasonably necessary to make an informed decision to accept or reject pro posed treatment, as well as a reasonable explanation of the viable alternative treatments that can be made available in a prison setting.
White v. Napoleon12
The right has never been regarded as absolute, however, (see Comm’n of Correction v. Myers);13 and it may be overridden if there are strong public health reasons to administer treatment, as when the Supreme Court upheld mandatory smallpox vaccination in 1905, despite the patient’s religious objections (Jacobson v. Massachusetts).14 Inmates have been required, for example, to submit to blood and tuberculosis tests and to diphtheria and tetanus injections (Thompson v. City of Los Angeles; Zaire v. Dalsheim; Ballard v. Woodard).15 Involuntary administration of antipsychotic medication has also been upheld when accompanied by appropriate clinical findings and procedural protections for the inmate patient (Washington v. Harper).16

Summary of Findings on Changing Demographics and Health Issues

  • The correctional population has expanded more than 4.5 fold between 1978 and 2004—from 1.5 million to almost 7 million. Prisons and jails house 2.1 million prisoners; an additional 4.9 million are on probation and parole.
  • Distrust of the AIDS/HIV movement in the 1990s within some minority communities resulted in more skepticism about physicians and researchers. This means that there is now, compared with the 1970s, a more compelling need for collaboration among all parties (details on collaborative responsibility are presented in Chapter 5).
  • The aging of the prisoner population, the high number of prisoners with mental illness, and the poor reading and communication skills among prisoners means that there are now increased concerns about prisoners’ capability to give informed consent, calling for a greater focus than before on the informed consent process and validation of prisoner consent to test their comprehension of research disclosures (see Chapter 6).
  • Because the possibility of poor health-care delivery exists in correctional settings, new regulations should include instructions that IRBs consider the adequacy of health care in considering whether to approve biomedical protocols in the correctional setting (see Chapter 6).

CURRENT RESEARCH ENVIRONMENT

Current Status of Prisoner Research

As the committee approached its task of addressing possible ethical considerations for revisions to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS) regulations for the protection of prisoners involved in research, it faced a dearth of information as to the recent and current landscape of research involving prisoners as participants. There were no comprehensive reviews17 and no central repository of information about the amount and different types of research involving prisoners. To better describe the volume and scope of contemporary research with prisoners, the committee undertook these three activities:
  1. An extensive survey, conducted by telephone or face-to-face interviews with key personnel from the departments of corrections (DOC) in four large states (California, Florida, New York, Texas) and two smaller states (Iowa, Utah). The questions were designed to reveal policies and procedures that govern research activities in those organizations and yield estimates of the volume of research activities over the past 2 years.18
  2. A similar survey of somewhat more limited scope conducted by e-mail with key DOC informants from the remaining 44 states (42 responded).
  3. A review of a random sample of articles published from 1999 to 2005 that involved prisoners as research participants.
The committee also considered several commissioned papers (see Box A-1). Because of the wide array of research objectives, methodologies, and designs, a brief typology of research was developed to describe relevant types of research (see Appendix A).

Results from the Surveys with Key DOC Personnel

This section summarizes key findings from the surveys of key DOC personnel (from in-depth interviews with personnel from six states plus e-mail survey responses by 42 additional state DOCs). See Appendix A for additional details of this survey.

Types of Research Permitted and Research Personnel

  • The vast majority of states permit research that involves administrative records reviews and DOC program evaluations (46 of 48).
  • Social/behavioral studies of a nontherapeutic nature involving minimal risk designs (e.g., survey, questionnaire, or nonintervention correlational studies [36 of 48]) are also commonly permitted.
  • Just about half of the states permit social or behavioral studies of a therapeutic intervention implemented by an outside investigator (i.e., not a standing DOC program).
  • Few states permit nontherapeutic social or behavioral studies that involve greater than minimal risk (5 of 48).
  • Therapeutic biomedical research is permissible in 15 of 48 state DOCs. Some states prohibit this research by legislation and others by DOC policy.
  • Three states permit biomedical studies of a nontherapeutic nature.
  • Many research activities (mainly records reviews and program evaluations) are initiated by in-house staff, according to the six state DOCs that responded to the more in-depth interviews. Each receives applications from external investigators as well, most commonly institutions of higher learning (university faculty and graduate students), federal agencies (e.g., National Institute on Drug Abuse), and private research groups (e.g., Rand Corporation). Given that most states in this sample prohibit, either by state law or DOC policy, medical and biomedical studies, pharmaceutical companies were not commonly mentioned as sources of extramural research applications.

Policies and Procedures for Application Review and Study Implementation

  • About 30 state DOCs require IRB review before research can commence. Certain states (e.g., California, Iowa, New York, and Utah) only require external IRB review for applications from external investigators.
  • Eighteen state DOCs use an internal IRB for proposal review. Just five of those include a prisoner or prisoner representative as a member of the IRB.
  • Financial or other incentives to inmates for research participation are prohibited by five of the six state DOCs interviewed in depth. In some cases, this prohibition has been waived on a case-by-case basis.
  • Fewer than half of the states have a procedure in place for reporting adverse events associated with research activity.

Published Literature: A Review of Selected Prisoner Studies19,20

Key findings from the literature survey include the following:
Locus of research activity Just over half of the prisoner studies were conducted in higher-security confinement settings, including jails and prisons (see Figure 2-2). More than one-third occurred in alternatives to incarceration, which included, in order of importance, juvenile detention centers, probation, residential drug treatment programs, parole, mental health facilities, community corrections, home confinement, and boot camps.
FIGURE 2-2. Facilities/location of studies.

FIGURE 2-2

Facilities/location of studies.
Types of research Very little research in the published literature involves medical clinical trials or other biomedical studies (see Figure 2-3). The majority of published studies were minimal risk, nontherapeutic social and behavioral studies (41 percent), DOC program evaluations (26 percent), administrative records review (21 percent), or social or behavioral therapeutic studies (6 percent).
FIGURE 2-3. Type of study.

FIGURE 2-3

Type of study. NOTE: Greater than minimal risk included any biomedical (nontherapeutic) study; any medical therapeutic study (regardless of the existence of a standard of care); any social/behavioral therapeutic study; and any nontherapeutic study involving (more...)
Study content/design Prisoner research is dominated by epidemiological studies (e.g., surveys, 39 percent) and correlational designs (27 percent). Other studies are described as examining behavioral issues (14 percent), medical outcomes (5 percent), case studies (6 percent), nonmedical experiments (1 percent), or “other” (8 percent). An alternative classification of study content reveals that health status questions (43 percent) and personality characteristics (19 percent) are the focus of most research. Other studies deal with aspects of being confined (10 percent) or reentry into the community (11 percent) or bear no clear relationship to prisoner status (9 percent).
Sources of funding It was sometimes challenging to determine or to categorize the source of funding for prisoner research from published reports. Approximately 20 percent of the studies reviewed did not indicate the source of support (see Figure 2-4), and another 29 percent fit the “other” coding category (e.g., a medical school grant; university small grants; a study supported by a Veterans Affairs office). Prisoner research is funded by a wide variety of state and federal entities. Federal resources cited in the present sample included two DHHS agencies (NIH, 8 percent and CDC, 3 percent), National Institute of Justice (5 percent), and “other” federal (10 percent). Also mentioned were state funds (11 percent), foundation grants (5 percent), and prison system funding (4 percent).
FIGURE 2-4. Source of funding.

FIGURE 2-4

Source of funding.
Mechanisms of research approval For 15 percent of the studies, a statement in the report indicated that the investigators had obtained IRB approval for the research; for another 19 percent of studies, the approval of some other reviewing body (e.g., a research committee) was referenced. For most studies (66 percent), the reports did not indicate whether, or by whom, the research was approved (in terms of human subjects protections).21
A review of 10 years of correctional and scientific literature on HIV/ AIDS studies involving prisoners (Farley, unpublished, 2005) yielded similar findings. The studies reviewed lacked transparency. Fewer than one-third of the studies mentioned review by an IRB, and nearly one-half made no mention of informed consent.

Data Retrieval Needs Improving

“[Prisoners’] only single armor against being subjected to experimental abuse hangs on a single thread, on a single federal regulation in federally funded research only,” said Vera Hassner Sharav, founder and president of the Alliance for Human Research Protection. “Chimpanzees, by contrast, are protected by mandatory rules, oversight, and enforcement mechanisms since the Animal Welfare Act of 1966. The U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) must submit annual reports to Congress documenting the disposition of every chimp, dog, rabbit, and hamster. No one keeps track of how many human beings have died or been harmed in clinical research.” Sharav painted this stark comparison of protections for prisoners with protections for animals in research at the committee’s July 2005 meeting.
The dearth of information regarding the contemporary landscape of prisoner research led the committee to gather systematic information concerning the frequency and types of prisoner research currently being conducted and the research-related policies and procedures of state agencies that house large numbers of prisoners. It was conceded at the outset that the scope of the committee’s efforts in this regard would be limited. For example, the surveys of key personnel in prisons were limited to state DOCs and did not include the federal prison system or the myriad city, county, and municipal jails in which offenders may be at least temporarily housed. Similarly, the review of published literature was of limited scope and was not supplemented with efforts to uncover, sample, and review unpublished reports in the possession of state, federal, or private agencies or research institutions.
Jeffrey Ian Ross, an associate professor in the Division of Criminology, Criminal Justice, and Social Policy at the University of Baltimore, and a member of the committee’s Prisoner Liaison Panel, agreed at the committee’s October 2005 meeting that a registry is needed. “I would make it a point to have some sort of clearinghouse that actually tracks this kind of research on a regular basis so we know if it is increasing, decreasing, and whether it is more behavioral, social science, criminologic, or medical.”
There is no central repository of information about the amount and type of research involving prisoners. For the same reason that registries of clinical research on drugs and biologics exist and have recently garnered strong support (DeAngelis et al., 2004; IOM, 2006), a national database would bring clarity to the currently murky landscape of research involving prisoners.
Recommendation 2.1: Maintain a public database of all research involving prisoners. The Department of Health and Human Services, in cooperation with the Department of Justice, should systematically and comprehensively document all human subjects research with prisoners.22
The establishment of a national registry of research involving prisoners should include data, such as who is conducting research, with what support, what kind of research, on what populations, and the nature and extent of ethical oversight provided. There is currently no central repository of information about the amount and type of research involving prisoners, however a government-run registry of clinical research does exist (www.Clinicaltrials.gov) and could be a starting point and leveraging mechanism to make this endeavor feasible and not cost prohibitive. A national registry would shed light on the totality of research taking place on prisoners and the quality of ethical oversight provided for each protocol. To enable consideration of questions of justice, it could be used to examine the magnitude and volume of prisoners in different types of research to determine the allocation of benefits and burdens of research among prisoners. A registry would also enhance the application of research findings to prisoner populations. In the absence of such a registry, the committee was unable to accurately determine the nature and extent of prisoners’ participation as subjects of research.
Cost is always a consideration when suggesting a database be developed. The director of Clinicaltrials.gov, the federal government’s public database of clinical research, indicated that the annual costs for that database, which is maintained at the National Library of Medicine, is $3.2 million per year (Deborah Zarin, personal communication, May 17, 2006). She noted, however, that there may not be a reason to start a new registry for research involving prisoners. The existing clinicaltrials.gov could add a field that indicated if prisoners were included in a study, and then users could customize the view to see only those studies. At present, clinicaltrials. gov does not include social/behavioral research, but it could be a starting point and leveraging mechanism to make Recommendation 2.1 feasible and not cost prohibitive.

Summary of Findings on Current Research Environment

Findings from the surveys of DOC personnel and the literature review shed light on the possible impact of the national commission’s Report and Recommendations—Research Involving Prisoners (NCPHSBBR, 1976) and indicate practical and political complexities that may hamper efforts to create a uniform and comprehensive system of protections for prisoners as research participants. Findings and implications from these data include the following:
  • The reach of the Subpart C regulations to protect prisoners involved in research does not extend to the vast majority of prisoner research participants. The current regulations are binding only with respect to research supported by DHHS or in those institutions that voluntarily extend the regulations to non-DHHS funded studies involving prisoners (currently the Central Intelligence Administration and Social Security Administration; see Chapter 3). Survey responses from key DOC personnel reveal that a significant amount of research with prisoners is initiated and conducted internally, and that extramural research applications come from a wide variety of investigators, some (perhaps many) of whom may not be supported by DHHS funding, and thus not bound by the regulations. Similarly, the review of published prison research studies indicates that only about 11 percent of studies are DHHS funded, through NIH and the CDC (the percentage may be slightly higher given that NIH and CDC may jointly fund some studies coded as having multiple funding sources).
  • It is not clear that all studies involving prisoners are being conducted with IRB review and approval. Also, prison research committees, which may serve some type of proxy IRB role, only infrequently include prisoners or prisoner representatives among their membership.
  • Biomedical research involving prisoners, particularly that of a nontherapeutic nature, is rare, perhaps as a consequence of the national commission’s 1976 report. Across the two surveys, one-third of respondents indicated that therapeutic medical studies might be permissible, and only 5 percent (two states) indicated that nontherapeutic biomedical research might be permissible. Several DOCs report that biomedical research, including potentially therapeutic research, is prohibited by state law or DOC policy. Further, medical studies with the potential for therapeutic outcome make up only 2 percent of the published prisoner research studies. Although the current regulations permit therapeutic medical studies with prisoners under certain circumstances, little such research appears to be taking place.
  • Some DOC research implementation policies may preclude potential remedies that some have suggested to ensure fair and equitable research participation by prisoners. For example, some have suggested the prisoner participants be allowed to receive incentives that, if not equal, are at least proportional to those available to nonprisoner participants in the community. Five of the six state DOCs interviewed in depth prohibit prisoner participants from receiving financial or other incentives for research participation.

REFERENCES

  1. Anno BJ, Dubler N. Correctional Health Care: Guidelines for the Management of an Adequate Delivery System. Chapter 4. Chicago: National Commission on Correctional Health Care; 2001.
  2. BJS (Bureau of Justice Statistics) Probation and Parole Violators in State Prison, 1991. 1995. [accessed December 16, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pub/pdf/ppvsp91.pdf.
  3. BJS. Jail Inmates in Custody, by Gender, Federal and State-By-State, 1973, 1983, 1988, 1993. 1997. [accessed April 4, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/jails.htm#selected.
  4. BJS. Substance Abuse and Treatment of Adults on Probation, 1995. 1998a. [accessed December 16, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pub/pdf/satap95.pdf.
  5. BJS. Women Offenders: Programming Needs and Promising Approaches. Washington, DC: U.S. Department of Justice; 1998b.
  6. BJS. State and Federal Corrections Information Systems. 1998c. [accessed December 21, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pub/pdf/sfcis.pdf.
  7. BJS. Mental Health and Treatment of Inmates and Probationers. 1999a. [accessed December 16, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pub/pdf/mhtip.pdf.
  8. BJS. Women Offenders. 1999b. [accessed October 13, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/\bjs/pub/pdf/wo.pdf.
  9. BJS. Substance Abuse and Treatment, State and Federal Prisoners, 1997. 1999c. [accessed October 15, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pub/pdf/satsfp97.pdf.
  10. BJS. Incarcerated Parents and Their Children. Washington, DC: U.S. Department of Justice; 2000b.
  11. BJS. Trends in State Parole, 1990-2000. 2001a. [accessed December 16, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pub/pdf/tsp00.pdf.
  12. BJS. Medical Problems of Inmates, 1997. 2001b. [accessed October 14, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pub/pdf/mpi97.pdf.
  13. BJS. Prevalence of Imprisonment in the U.S. population, 1974-2001. 2003a. [accessed December 30, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pub/pdf/piusp01.pdf.
  14. BJS. Education and Correctional Populations. Washington, DC: U.S. Department of Justice; 2003b.
  15. BJS. Sourcebook of Criminal Justice Statistics. Adults on Probation, in Jail or Prison, and on Parole. 2003c. [accessed January 2, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://albany.edu/sourcebook/pdf/sb2002/sb2002-section6.pdf.
  16. BJS. Census of State and Federal Correctional Facilities, 2000. 2003d. [accessed January 3, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pub/pdf/csfcf00.pdf.
  17. BJS. Hepatitis Testing and Treatment in State Prisons. 2004a. [accessed January 3, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://www.hcvinprison.org/docs/hep_stateprisons_04.pdf.
  18. BJS. Probation and Parole in the United States, 2003. 2004b. [accessed December 16, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pub/pdf/ppus03.pdf.
  19. BJS . Profile of Jail Inmates, 2002. 2004c. [accessed April 5, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pub/pdf/pji02.pdf.
  20. BJS. Prisoners in 2003. 2004d. [accessed April 6, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pub/pdf/p03.pdf.
  21. BJS. Prisoners in 2004. 2005a. [accessed January 23, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/abstract/p04.htm.
  22. BJS. Sexual Violence Reported by Correctional Authorities, 2004. 2005b. [accessed October 14, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pub/pdf/svrca04.pdf.
  23. BJS. Prison and Jail Inmates at Midyear 2004. Washington, DC: U.S. Department of Justice; 2005c.
  24. BJS. HIV in Prisons, 2003. 2005d. [accessed October 14, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pub/pdf/hivp03.pdf.
  25. BJS. Key Facts at a Glance, Demographic Trends in Jail Populations. 2005e. [accessed March 20, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/glance/tables/jailagtab.htm.
  26. BJS. Prisoners in Custody, 1977-98. 2005f. [accessed April 4, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/prisons.htm#selected.
  27. BJS. Adults on Probation, Federal and State by State, 1977-2004. 2005g. [accessed April 4, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pandp.htm#selected.
  28. BJS. Adults on Parole, Federal and State by State, 1977-2004. 2005h. [accessed April 4, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pandp.htm#selected.
  29. Blitz CL, Wolff N, Pan KY, Pogorzelski W. Gender-specific behavioral health and community release patterns among New Jersey prison inmates: Implications for treatment and community reentry. American Journal of Public Health. 2005;95(10):1741–1746. [PMC free article: PMC1449430] [PubMed: 16131640]
  30. Bloche MG. Clinical loyalties and the social purposes of medicine. Journal of the American Medical Association. 1999;281(3):268–274. [PubMed: 9918483]
  31. Bloche MG. The supreme court and the purposes of medicine. The New England Journal of Medicine. 2006;354(10):993–995. [PubMed: 16525134]
  32. Braithwaite RI, Treadwell HM, Arriola KRJ. Health disparities and incarcerated women: A population ignored. American Journal of Public Health. 2005;95(10):1679–1680. [PMC free article: PMC1449417] [PubMed: 16186446]
  33. CDC (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention) Viral Hepatitis and the Criminal Justice System. 2002. [accessed January 3, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://www.cdc.gov/idu/hepatitis/viralhepcrimhaljust.pdf.
  34. CDC. Prevention and control of infections with hepatitis viruses in correctional settings. Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report. 2003;52(RR-1):1–44. [PubMed: 12562146]
  35. Coleman CH, Menikoff JA, Goldner JA, Dubler NN. The Ethics and Regulation of Research with Human Subjects. Dayton, OH: Lexis/Nexis; 2005.
  36. Dalton H. AIDS in blackface. Daedalus: Proceedings of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. 1989;118(3):205–228.
  37. DeAngelis CD, Drazen JM, Frizelle FA, Haug C, Hoey J, Horton R, Kotzin S, Laine C, Marusic A, Overbeke AJ, Schroeder TV, Sox HC, Van Der Weyden MB. Clinical trial registration: A statement from the International Committee of Medical Journal Editors. Journal of the American Medical Association. 2004;292(11):1363–1364. [PubMed: 15355936]
  38. Dubler N, Sidel V. On research on HIV infection and AIDS. The Milbank Quarterly. 1989;67(2):171–207. [PubMed: 2630900]
  39. Farley JE. 10 Years of HIV/AIDS Research Behind Bars: Time for Change. 2005 Unpublished manuscript.
  40. Freudenberg N, Daniels J, Crum M, Perkins T, Richie BE. Coming home from jail: The social and health consequences of community reentry for women, male adolescents, and their families and communities. American Journal of Public Health. 2005;95(10):1725–1736. [PMC free article: PMC1449427] [PubMed: 16186451]
  41. GAO. Women in Prison: Issues and Challenges Confronting U.S. Correctional Systems. 1999. [accessed November 23, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.gao.gov/archive/2000/gg00022.pdf.
  42. GAO. State and Federal Prisoners: Profiles of Inmate Characteristics in 1991 and 1997. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office; 2000.
  43. Haigler KO, Harlow C, O'Connor P, Campbell A. Literacy Behind Prison Walls: Profiles of the Prison Population from the National Adult Literacy Survey National Center for Education Statistics. 1994. [accessed October 15, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://nces.ed.gov/pubsearch/pubsinfo.asp?pubid=94102.
  44. Hammett TM, Harmon MP, Rhodes W. The burden of infectious disease among inmates of and releasees from US correctional facilities, 1997. American Journal of Public Health. 2002;92:1789–1794. [PMC free article: PMC1447330] [PubMed: 12406810]
  45. Hornblum AM. They were cheap and available: Prisoners as research subjects in twentieth century America. British Medical Journal. 1997;315:1437–1441. [PMC free article: PMC2127868] [PubMed: 9418095]
  46. Hornblum AM. Acres of Skin: Human Experiments at Holmesburg Prison. New York: Routledge; 1998.
  47. HRW (Human Rights Watch) Out of Sight: Super-Maximum Security Confinement in the United States. 2000. [accessed October 13, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.hrw.org/reports/2000/supermax/
  48. HRW. Ill-Equipped: U.S. Prisons and Offenders with Mental Illness. 2003. [accessed October 13, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.hrw.org/reports/2003/usa1003/index.htm.
  49. IOM (Institute of Medicine) Developing a National Registry of Pharmacologic and Biologic Clinical Trials: Workshop Report. Washington, DC: The National Academies Press; 2006. [PubMed: 26740992]
  50. Jacobson M. Downsizing Prisons: How to Reduce Crime and End Mass Incarceration. New York: New York University Press; 2005.
  51. Jones JH. Bad Blood: The Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment. New York: The Free Press; 1993.
  52. JPI (Justice Policy Institute) The Punishing Decade: Prison and Jail Estimates at the Millennium. 2002. [accessed October 14, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.cjcj.org/pubs/punishing/punishing.html.
  53. JPI. An examination of 3-Strike Laws 10 years after their Enactment. 2004. [accessed May 9, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://www.justicepolicy.org/article.php?id=450.
  54. Khan AJ, Simard EP, Bower WA, Wurtzel HL, Khristova M, Wagner KD, Arnold KE, Nainan OV, LaMarre M, Bell BP. Ongoing transmission of hepatitis B virus infection among inmates at a state correctional facility. American Journal of Public Health. 2005;95(10):1793–1799. [PMC free article: PMC1449438] [PubMed: 16186457]
  55. King RS, Mauer M. Aging Behind Bars: “Three Strikes” Seven Years Later. 2001. [accessed October 14, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.sentencingproject.org/pdfs/9087.pdf.
  56. Liptak A. To more inmates, life term means dying behind bars. The New York Times. 2005 October 2:1.
  57. Lotke E. Hobbling a Generation: Young African American Men in D.C.’s Criminal Justice System Five Years Later. National Center on Institutions and Alternatives; 1997. [accessed April 6, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://66.165.94.98/stories/hobblgen0897.html.
  58. Lovell D, Cloyes C, Allen DG, Rhodes LA. Who lives in supermaximum custody? A Washington State study. Federal Probation. 2000;61(3):40–45.
  59. Macalino GE, Dhawan D, Rich JD. A missed opportunity: Hepatitis C screening of prisoners. American Journal of Public Health. 2005;95(10):1739–1740. [PMC free article: PMC1449429] [PubMed: 16186452]
  60. MacNeil JR, Lobato MN, Moore M. An unanswered health disparity: Tuberculosis among correctional inmates, 1993 through 2003. American Journal of Public Health. 2005;95(10):1800–1805. [PMC free article: PMC1449439] [PubMed: 16186458]
  61. Mauer M, King RS. Schools and Prisons: Fifty Years After Brown V. Board of Education. 2004. [accessed January 2, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://sentencingproject.org/pdfs/brownvboard.pdf.
  62. Mauer M, King RS, Young MC. The Meaning of “Life”: Long Prison Sentences in Context. 2004. [accessed October 17, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.sentencingproject.org/pdfs/lifers.pdf.
  63. Metzner JL. Class action litigation in correctional psychiatry. Journal American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law. 2002;30:19–29. [PubMed: 11931366]
  64. Mitford J. Kind and Usual Punishment. New York: Vintage; 1974.
  65. Murphy D. Health care in the federal bureau of prisons: Fact or fiction. California Journal of Health Promotion. 2005;3(2):23–37.
  66. NCCHC (National Commission on Correctional Health Care) The Health Status of Soon-to-Be Released Inmates: Executive Summary. 2002. [accessed October 10, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ncchc.org/stbr/Volume2/ExecutiveSummary.pdf.
  67. NCPHSBBR (National Commission for the Protection of Human Subjects of Biomedical and Behavioral Research) Report and Recommendations: Research Involving Prisoners. Washington, DC: NCPHSBBR; 1976.
  68. NFCMH (New Freedom Commission on Mental Health) Subcommittee on Criminal Justice Background Paper. Rockville, MD: 2004. [accessed March 20, 2006]. DHHS Pub. No. SMA-04-3880. [Online]. Available:http://www.mentalhealthcommission.gov/papers/CJ_ADACompliant.pdf.
  69. NIC (National Institute of Corrections) Supermax Housing: A Survey of Current Practice. Longmont, CO: U.S. Department of Justice; 1997.
  70. NIC. Gender-Responsive Strategies for Women Offenders: A Summary of Research, Practice, and Guiding Principles for Women Offenders. Washington, DC: U.S. Department of Justice; 2005.
  71. NIH (National Institutes of Health) Management of Hepatitis C: 2002. 2002. [accessed January 23, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://consensus.nih.gov/2002/2002Hepatitisc2002116html.htm.
  72. OSI (Open Society Institute) Providing Education to Prisoners. New York: Chesapeake Institute; 1997. Education as Crime Prevention. (Research Brief No. 2)
  73. Petersilia J. Challenges to prisoner reentry and parole in California. California Policy Research Center Brief Series. 2000. [accessed April 4, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://www.ucop.edu/cprc/parole.html.
  74. PHR (Physicians for Human Rights) Dual Loyalty & Human Rights in Health Professional Practice: Proposed Guidelines and Institutional Mechanisms. 2003. [accessed May 17, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://www.phrusa.org/healthrights/dl_intro.html.
  75. Pogorzelski W, Wolff N, Pan KY, Blitz CL. Behavioral health problems, ex-offender reentry policies, and the “second chance” act. American Journal of Public Health. 2005;95(10):1718–1724. [PMC free article: PMC1449426] [PubMed: 16131635]
  76. Restum ZG. Public health implications of substandard correctional health care. American Journal of Public Health. 2005;95(10):1689–1691. [PMC free article: PMC1449420] [PubMed: 16186448]
  77. Rhodes LA. Pathological effects of the supermaximum prison. American Journal of Public Health. 2005;95(10):1692–1693. [PMC free article: PMC1449421] [PubMed: 16131632]
  78. Schafer NE. Exploring the link between visits and parole success: A survey of prison visitors. International Journal of Offender Therapy and Comparative Criminology. 1994;38(1):17–32.
  79. Sharp SM. The problem of readability of informed consent documents for clinical trials of investigational drugs and devices: United States considerations. Drug Information Journal. 2004;38:353–359.
  80. Spangenberg G. Current Issues in Correctional Education: A Compilation & Discussion. 2004. [accessed October 14, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.caalusa.org/correct_ed_paper.pdf.
  81. Sterngold J. U.S. seizes state prison health care: Judge sites preventable death of inmates, depravity of system. San Francisco Chronicle. 2005 July 1:A-1.
  82. Sturm SP. The legacy and future of corrections litigation. University of Pennsylvania Law Review. 1993;142:638–738.
  83. Tewksbury R, Mustaine EE. Where to find corrections research: An assessment of research published in corrections specialty journals, 1990–1999. The Prison Journal. 2001;81:419–435.
  84. TSP (The Sentencing Project) Aging Behind Bars: “Three Strikes” Seven Years Later. 2001. [accessed October 14, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.sentencingproject.org/pdfs/9087.pdf.
  85. TSP. New Incarceration Figures: Growth in Population Continues. 2005. [accessed April 6, 2006]. Available:http://www.sentencingproject.org/pdfs/1044.pdf.
  86. U.S. Census. Table no. 377: federal and state prisoners: 1970 to 1996. Statistical Abstracts of the United States: 1998. 1998. [accessed December 23, 2005]. [Online]. Available:http://www.census.gov/prod/3/98pubs/98statab/sasec5.pdf.
  87. U.S. Supreme Court. Estelle v. Gamble, 429 U.S. 97. 1976. [accessed January 2, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://www.justia.us/us/429/97/case.html.
  88. Von Zielbauer P. As health care in jails goes private, 10 days can be a death sentence. New York Times. 2005a February 27:1. [PubMed: 15838958]
  89. Von Zielbauer P. In city’s jails, missed signals open way to season of suicides. New York Times. 2005b February 28:1. [PubMed: 15841506]
  90. Von Zielbauer P. Inmates’ medical care at Rikers fails in evaluation. New York Times. 2005c June 10:B-1.
  91. Von Zielbauer P. A company’s troubled answer for prisoners with HIV. New York Times. 2005d August 1:1.
  92. Walmsley R. World Prison Population List. 2003. [accessed January 2, 2006]. [Online]. Available:http://www.homeoffice.gov.uk/rds/pdfs2/r188.pdf.
  93. Winner. An introduction to the constitutional law of prison medical care. Journal of Prison Health. 1987;1(1):67–84.
  94. Young VD, Reviere R. Meeting the health care needs of the new woman inmate: A national survey of prison practices. Journal of Offender Rehabilitation. 2001;34(2):31–48.

Footnotes

1
U.S. District Court for the Northern District of California. Findings of Fact and Conclusions of Law Re Appointment of Receiver, Marciano Plata, et al. vs. Arnold Schwarzenegger, et al., October 3, 2005, page 2.
2
Pub. L. No. 108-79 (2003).
3
For example, 21 percent of state prison facilities do no testing for hepatitis C (BJS, 2004a). Macalino et al. (2005) argue that following risk-based screening guidelines, such as those on hepatitis C from the CDC may not be enough. CDC issued recommendations in 2003 to screen all inmates with a history of injection drug use or other risk factors for hepatitis C. A study in the Rhode Island Department of Corrections indicated that 66 percent of prisoners who were hepatitis C positive did not report injection drug use (Macalino et al., 2005) and, therefore, would not have been screened. Therefore, risk-based testing underestimates hepatitis C virus prevalence in the correctional setting and is a missed opportunity for diagnosis and prevention of hepatitis C infection.
4
Spicer v. Williamson, 132 E.E. 291, 293 (N.C. 1926).
5
Estelle v. Gamble, 429 U.S. 97, 97 S.Ct. 285 (19760.
6
Todaro v. Ward, 431 F.Supp. 1129 (S.D.N.Y.), aff’d, 565 F.2d 48 (2d Cir. 1977).
7
Martinez v. Mancusi, 443 F.2d 1192 (2d Cir. 1970).
8
Williams v. Vincent, 508 F.2d 541, 544-5 (2d Cir. 1974).
9
Cruzan v. Missouri Department of Health, 497 U.S.261, 110 S.Ct. 2841 (1990).
10
Schloendorff v. Society of New York Hospitals, 211 N.Y. 125, 129 (1914).
11
White v. Napoleon, 897 F.2d 103 (3d Cir. 1990).
12
White v. Napoleon, 897 F.2d 103, 113 (3d Cir. 1990).
13
Commission of Correction v. Myers, 399 N.E.2d 452 (Mass. 1979).
14
Jacobson v. Massachusetts, 197 U.S. 11 (1905).
15
Thompson v. City of Los Angeles, 885 F.2d 1439 (9th Cir. 1989); Zaire v. Dalsheim, 698 F.Supp. 57 (S.D.N.Y. 1988); Zaire v. Dalsheim, 698 F.Supp. 57 (S.D.N.Y. 1988).
16
Washington v. Harper, 494 U.S. 210, 110 S.Ct. 1028 (1989).
17
Reviews of limited scope were identified and reviewed. See, for example, Tewksbury and Mustaine (2001).
18
For both surveys the committee confined its efforts to state DOCs. Information on policies, procedures, and practices related to research in other settings that fit into a broader definition of prisoner sites (e.g., jails, juvenile justice detention facilities, residential community programs that may serve as alternatives to traditional incarceration or transitional facilities) was not solicited.
19
The committee would like to thank John Weir and James Ray, graduate students at the University of South Florida, who reviewed the articles and provided the codings on which these data are based.
20
See Appendix A for a description of the literature selection strategy and additional findings.
21
This does not necessarily mean, however, that human subjects reviews were not conducted or that appropriate approvals were not obtained. Journals and journal editors vary considerably in their requirements for reporting (or not) that the research had prior IRB or other human subjects review and approval.
22
The term prisoner is defined by the Committee in Chapter 4 and used throughout this report in a broader way that it is commonly used. In this report, the term prisoner refers to all persons, including parolees and probationers, whose liberty has been restricted by decisions of the criminal justice system.
 
 http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK19877/
 
 
 ----------------
 
VIRGINIA
 
 
 

Inmate Programs and Services

Work Programs

Health Services

Educational Programs

Additional Information

The prison system offers a range of programs and services to more than 30,000 state prisoners that support the effective operation of facilities by constructively occupying otherwise idle inmate time and reducing unrest. Programs also provide those inmates who choose to change criminal behaviors with meaningful opportunities for positive growth.
Prison programs are aligned within the Department so that inmates with long sentences or behavior problems (those housed in maximum or close custody prisons) receive programs that promote positive prison adjustment. Those inmates nearing release (those housed in medium or minimum custody facilities) receive programs aimed at reducing recidivism.
----------------

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.