The trouble with prison Kenneth Hartman please read May 26, 2009 11:00 AM
The Trouble With Prison
By KENNETH HARTMAN
In his Republic,
Platos allegory of the cave describes how the limited perception of
man leaves him measuring the world with only the distorted reflections
of reality. The trouble with prison, as it is perceived, is the
shadows are further distended by a variety of prisms that bend reality
to suit a host of preconceptions, special interests and self-fulfilling
prophecies. The end result of this shape-shifting is a system that
produces failure as a matter of course, that pretends to protect the
mass of society, and that destroys whole communities in its voracious
appetite. The trouble with prison is prison.
I
serve the other death penalty life without the possibility of parole
for killing a man in a fistfight when I was 19 years old. In that I
will never get out, I am freed to speak a more direct and unfiltered
truth than those who must convince a panel of unsympathetic officials
they should be returned to the real world. My 29 years of direct
experience, coupled with a powerful thirst to come to grips with my own
personal truth and gain an intellectually valid grasp of this world,
have taught me a series of lessons. While I do not claim to have
unchained myself completely from the bonds of ignorance, I believe I
can read and interpret accurately the tortured shapes on the dull
concrete walls of this particular cave.
People
are put in prison because nothing else works. This is the foundational
misperception that supports the prison edifice. The truth is far less
simple. There are prisoners whose lifetime of dangerous behavior
leaves prison as the only choice for society. But these are a tiny
minority in the sea of pathetic misfits and perennial losers walking
the yards.
Most
prisoners are uneducated, riddled with unresolved traumas and
ill-treated mental health problems, drug and alcohol addictions, and
self-esteem issues that are beyond profound, bordering on the
pathological far too often. The vast majority has never received
competent health care, mental health care, drug treatment, education or
even an opportunity to look at themselves as human. Were any of these
far less draconian interventions even tried, before the descent into
this wretched cave, no doubt many of my peers would be leading
productive lives. Nothing else works is not a statement of fact; it is
the declaration of an ideology. This ideology holds that punishment,
for the sake of the infliction of pain, is the logical response to all
misbehavior. It is also a convenient cover story behind which powerful
special interest groups hide.
Prison
employees benefit by our failure. This startling fact contains within
it a monstrous truth. These well-organized government workers created
the victims rights movement, a sad shill for the prison-industrial
complex. Using the handful of politically active victims of crime to
obscure their actual agenda, propositions are passed, laws are changed,
and policies that could prevent victimization in the first place are
suppressed. Both of these groups, working in tandem with the
corporations that supply and construct prisons, pour millions of
dollars into the political process to achieve a system guaranteed to
fail. But this failure by any other measure high rates of
recidivism, high rates of internal disorder, growing prison populations
serving longer sentences results in greater profits to the
corporations, increased membership in the unions, and ever growing
piles of dollars to buy still more influence.
After
reading a small library of books and studies on the subject, along with
my direct experience, it is clear only three rehabilitative programs
have proof of success. Increased and enhanced visiting to build and
maintain family ties, higher education, and quality drug and alcohol
treatment constitutes this golden triad. It is not a closely held
secret that these work to lower recidivism and, thus, prevent
victimization; rather, this is well known. Nevertheless, the special
interest groups lobby incessantly against all three. In my 29 years,
visiting has deteriorated from a slightly unpleasant experience to a
hostile and traumatic acid bath that quite effectively destroys family
ties. Higher education is virtually nonexistent but for those few with
the substantial resources needed to purchase it. In those rare cases
where innovative ways have been found to bring education back into the
prisons the special interest groups have mounted vicious campaigns to
terminate the programs. The opposition to drug and alcohol treatment,
much more widely supported in the body politic, is subtler. Using the
proven method of compulsory participation by the least amenable, those
programs that are instituted are crippled in the normal chaos of
prison. All of this opposition stands behind the banner of protecting
victims rights, as if only the desire for revenge by past victims of
crime matters, over even the potential losses of future victims.
With
recidivism rates well beyond two-thirds, the assumption for all
prisoners is that of
With
recidivism rates well beyond two-thirds, the assumption for all
prisoners is that of failure. It is written into the policies of
prison that force parolees back to failed situations, that site prisons
far from the urban areas most prisoners come from, and provide no
after-parole assistance. When I first came into the California state
system in the late 70s, a parolee received a decent set of clothes, a
bus ticket and $200 in cash. Todays parolee receives a sweat suit
unsuitable for a job interview and $200; out of which is deducted the
cost of his bus ticket and decades of devaluation. The parolee, having
received no real substance abuse treatment, no serious education or
training, no useful mental health counseling, and holding barely enough
money for a short stay in a flophouse, is cast back out into the real
world to swim or, more likely, sink. The aid that would make the
transition more likely successful is denied, ostensibly, to save
money. The pennies it would take to reestablish the parolee vanish
next to the fifty thousand a year it costs to re-incarcerate the parole
violator.
Yet
again, sadly, it becomes clear on close inspection that without our
mass failure the gears of the prison-industrial complex would stop.
Jobs would be lost, rural communities devastated, and the flow of
political contributions would dry up. From the perspective of those
who depend on our failure to sustain themselves, our success would be a
disaster. In my state, an admitted extreme example, on any given day
about half the prison population are parole violators, a majority of
whom have broken no law but rather violated one of the vast web of
confusing and devious tripwire rules they must navigate around on the
other side of the fences.
Failure
is expected, a bad enough thing, to be sure. Worse, failure is
celebrated and lauded. The primary rationale of parole divisions is to
lock as many ex-cons as possible back into the prisons. There are gang
task forces, and drug task forces, and absconder recovery units, and
high control teams, all of which operate on a presumption of failure.
These black-clad, helmeted law enforcement platoons prowl the alleys
and back streets of the inner cities hunting down parolees. They
justify the over-application of picayune rules as preventing the
assumed major crimes the parolee is bound to commit, eventually. After
the high-fives and backslapping are over, parole officers content
themselves with their sense of exacting a frighteningly prospective
form of justice. The now current convict heads back for another year
or two of dehumanization for forgetting to report he moved or talking
to his cousin also on parole.
The
prison system dresses itself in a cloak of respectability by claiming
to protect society from the worst of the worst. At a certain level,
this is true. There are some irredeemables, those who should not be
allowed to prey on society ever again. The trouble with this
assertion, and the direction it has taken, is there just arent enough
worst of the worst to justify the concrete and razor wire empire, not
to the extent it has grown. The definition of who fits into this
excluded class has expanded dramatically over the years, along with the
borders of the system. Now, along with the serial predator is housed
the serial drug addict and the serial shoplifter and the serial loser,
all serving extraordinarily long sentences on prison yards devoid of
even a semblance of rehabilitation. This in the name of protecting
society.
Policies
are enacted that are purposely brutal by staff who have been trained to
view prisoners as less than human, to believe that their real role is
to exact revenge, who see us in all ways the enemy, the dangerous
other. This message, that we are not fully human, is pressed into us
every moment of every day in a multitude of ways from the mundane
(being forced to wear pants with PRISONER stamped on the leg in neon
orange lettering) to the profound (being prevented from conducting a
business or owning property). This results in a diminishing of our
consciousness to that of the unwelcome alien. From inside this dark
recess, it is near to impossible imagining rejoining humanity. As one
state senator in California observed, If you were to set out to design
a system to produce failure, this would be it. It is not surprising
this elected official represents an area that has disproportionately
suffered due to these policies and was a professor of psychology before
assuming office.
Whole
communities have been decimated, literally, by the policies of the
system. People of color, the poor and the dispossessed, are
represented in numbers far exceeding their share of society. It starts
on streets patrolled by an occupying force of police who view these
people as less than, as suspects first and foremost. Arrests are made
for the most trivial offenses, for the little acts of rebellion and
frustration not uncommon to young people everywhere. But down on the
occupied bottom of society there is no call made to mommy and daddy.
No well-dressed lawyer will show up in court with a privately
contracted psychologist to explain juniors learning disability. A
bored, too often hostile, public defender will convince the youth to
take a plea bargain that 20 years later becomes the first strike in a
life sentence for boosting a ham. Once a name has a criminal justice
system
Once a name has a criminal justice
system number affixed to it, the move from possible suspect to probable
offender is complete. In some of the worst off communities, every
third or fourth man, and a growing number of women, carry a number on
their shoulders.
As
the mass of people in this country who labor to carry a number grows
so, too, does the harm caused and exacerbated by the prison system. No
longer a tiny fringe of malcontents and unrepentant thugs, we who have
sprung from the electrified fences and gun towers, from inside the
racially polarized and ganged-up yards, who have spent a significant
portion of our lives locked into tiny concrete boxes bending over and
spreading our cheeks, are a growing segment of the real world. We have
spouses and children, parents and siblings, and our influence on the
collective consciousness is solidifying. It is seen in the
glorification of violence and the fascination with acts of irrational
and pointless rage that fills the media and dominates the lives of
prisoners. It is heard in the adoption of jailhouse terms applied to
schools put on lockdown and street cops kickin it with the
homies. It is felt in the tighter ring of controls that encircle the
lives of free people in the real world, a disturbing reflection of the
world of prisoners.
Prison
is insatiable and unquenchable. It devours everything in its path and
swallows whole anything that attempts to deter it. All these years I
have spent inside I have observed just how effectively the system
crushes its opposition. The well meaning and good hearted eventually
surrender to the overwhelming force and terrible despair. Not least of
which, that pouring out of the desperate flailing of prisoners
ourselves as we beat our heads against the walls of our internal exile
with a maniacal ferocity. We internalize the separation and removal,
the assumed less-than status, and hold up the idiotic and vainglorious
pride we pretend to like clowns make-up to hide our shame. Some of us
profess to be immune to the battering we endure; many of us deny it
happening in spite of the obvious bruises. In the end, the vast
majority of us become exactly who we are told we are: violent,
irrational, and incapable of conducting ourselves like conscious
adults. It is a tragic opera with an obvious outcome.
The
talk lately making the rounds in political circles, among the power
brokers and well heeled, is of reviving the idea of rehabilitation.
The past decades of exploding costs and terrible outcomes, particularly
as schools and old folks homes are closed to bridge budget shortfalls,
has allowed the concept of using prison to correct, to heal and
restore, to be taken seriously again. This is a good thing. It is long
overdue. But it is an idea that will have to battle powerful forces
determined to diminish it into a shadow without substance. It will
face the added complexity of implementation managed by guards and
administrators, teachers and counselors who fundamentally reject the
notion that prisoners are capable of being restored. Along with this
uphill climb, dragging along the recalcitrant, will be the added
obstacle of the special interest groups defending their world of
failure. The simple truth is the less of us the less of them. If we
stop coming back their world will collapse.
Still,
the greatest struggle to effect change will be convincing the mass of
prisoners, the millions of men and women who have been brainwashed into
believing they simply cannot become better. At the head of this mass
will be the seeming leadership from our own ranks, those who have used
the status quo to achieve a perverse success. They are the drug
dealers and negative leaders, the phony writ writers, the whole group
of profiteers and self-servers who will seek to undermine positive
change because in it they glimpse the end of their domination of the
dysfunction. That they aid and assist the special interest groups, the
organized revenge groups and the corporations profiting off of our
collective misery is obvious. Heedless, they will seek to maintain the
failed system through acts of atavistic violence and jackass
resistance. They might succeed in stifling change, and not for the
first time. This is the modern world of prison, constructed after 25
years of surrendering to fear mongers and manipulators. It is a
fearsome mess.
The
trouble with prison is, indeed, prison itself. The way prison is
managed and envisioned. The idea that by humiliating and brutalizing
damaged people some possible good could result is simply a falsehood, a
lie perpetrated by interests who benefit from failure. It has never
worked. It is not working now. It will never work. No amount of
money poured down societys communal drain will buy success. No
minimum number of broken bodies and tortured spirits will purchase
rehabilitation. No pyre of burnt offerings, no matter how large and
hot, will somehow result in better people walking out the front gate in
their gray sweat suits. The problems are systemic and resilient.
Nothing short of radical and sustained reform will be enough to
overcome the resistance of a system built to fail. It may not be
possible, but to not try is to condemn thousands upon thousands of our
fellow human beings to a witches brew of victimizations, in here and
out there. To not try would be an act of cowardly capitulation to
bullies and thugs. To not tr
To not try would be an act of cowardly capitulation to
bullies and thugs. To not try is to become like those who have erected
this system, who keep it going, who must somehow sleep with what they
have do.
Kenneth Hartman
has served over 29 continuous years in the California Department of
Corrections and Rehabilitation on a life without the possibility of
parole sentence. He is the founder of the Honor Program at California
State Prison-Los Angeles County, and serves as the Chairman of its
Steering Committee. He is currently leading The Other Death Penalty
Project, a grassroots organizing campaign conducted by LWOP prisoners
with the ultimate goal of abolishing life without parole sentences. He
can be reached at: prisonhonorprogram@ hotmail.com.
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