5.1.5 The Prison Culture

I was at a talk once by Fr. Gerry McFlynn, the then Chaplain of the Irish Prisoners in England, and he said that ‘the gospels of imprisonment are impossible to write from the perspective of the witness’.

In other words, to really understand what it is like to be in prison one needs to have been there oneself – and experienced it directly.  I totally agree with Fr. Gerry, and, as I said already, I have never been to prison (or served as a prison officer), so I approached writing this post with a little trepidation.

There is a well-known saying that a person who commits a crime goes to prison as punishment and not for punishment.

If I commit crime, i.e., do serious harm to another, I have to live with the consequences.  One of the consequences is, of course, imprisonment, but the other, very real consequence is my conscience, or my feelings of remorse.

Now people who don’t know that much about crime and imprisonment may not believe that those who commit crime can feel remorse, but in my – and in many of my colleague’s – experience, most do.

However, if I feel unduly punished the remorse evaporates and it is quickly replaced with both anger towards the punisher and a burst of self-justification, poor me thinking and cynicism.

In this, my experience of excessive punishment hardly ever begins with imprisonment.  It may be first felt as a young infant (see the post on disorganised attachment if you have not read it) and then throughout childhood and adolescence at home, in school in clubs etc. as described elsewhere, and in particular in the Chapter in Trauma and Related Topics.

The long history of feeling punished is reminiscent of the W. B. Yeats quotation that too long a sacrifice makes a stone of the heart, which I have mentioned twice already!

Even though I have met people who have been to prison who deliberately set themselves up to be caught, most people who commit crime don’t consciously want to be caught.

But, a fairly solid argument can be made through keen observation, that actually, if I commit a crime I will want to be caught.

The Gardaí know this and many crimes are solved by knowledge of a mixture of a perpetrator’s profile and clues left behind – also unintentionally i.e. unconsciously – by the perpetrator.

I might not be aware of my desire-to-be-caught because it lies deep in my unconscious. The reasons why might include shame, guilt, a desire to repair damage, or an innate need for a boundary.  Or it could be a desire to be responsible, (which, remember, is something we yearn to be) or perhaps I need security, or even company.

Or perhaps I don’t feel that I deserve to live among ordinary people in society – or, (and this might be a bit far out) I want to be part of an exclusive, elite club – i.e. people who go to prison.

And in going to prison, there are those who believe that the individual has, at last, come home. That is, the secure base that all humans seek is finally attained. 

If you are reading this and are serving, or have served a prison sentence, or indeed work as staff in a prison, I’d be very interested to hear your thoughts………

If we put a lot of very distressed people with poor boundaries together in an institution like a prison what kind of culture do we expect will prevail?

From our arguments in a previous Chapter on Systems Theory we would expect that the overall culture will be in keeping with the collective culture of all the individuals in the institution.

Looking at it from the traditional prison perspective, it is likely that there will be an upward causation (from the vulnerable individuals incarcerated) of anger, depression, irresponsibility, anxiety etc. – all that we’d expect, and a downward causation (from both management and external pressures) of security, rigidity, hierarchy, and similar traits – once again, elements that are familiar to us.

But looking beneath the typical culture of imprisonment, mostly known to us because of the media, perceptive observers will note an upward causation of genuineness, humanity, compassion, intelligence, and above all creativity.  In more innovative and progressive prisons there may be enough forward thinking to permit a downward causation of the very same elements.

Just like any institution or community, prison can be one or the other.  For the individual incarcerated, prison can be as much a place of sanctuary as a place of harshness. Indeed, the prison culture may contain some elements of the culture of the family in the Focus Group.

And since the culture of the families is heavily influenced by both the vulnerabilities and the strengths of the individuals that make it up, the culture of the prison will be so influenced [1]. 

Much literature that is written about prisons, both old and new [2], points out that prisons are communities with identifiable cultures containing many of the above elements.

And in my experience quite a lot of cultural matching goes on in prisons in respect of the values, norms etc. of families in our Focus Group.  While the culture among staff can be rigid and hierarchical at times (and this is what is usually portrayed in media), staff also have opportunities to be compassionate, creative, caring, and empathic with those within, who are, as many officers put it, in their care. 

Because of the power of cultural conditioning the nearer we are to a culture the more influential it is.  (We noted this in the Chapter on Anthropology). Of course we might often want to be like someone that is culturally removed also, but I believe that that’s a head thing.

At an emotional level we almost always follow the values and norms of those closest to us over a long period of time.

And in this, as I state elsewhere, imprisonment is a common experience among our Focus Group – indeed prison is probably the one and only statutory agency with which families have a long term close relationship.

While it is probably not that common to view imprisonment as a great opportunity for someone, I argue that, given the right conditions, it can be just that. [3]

[1]. One might argue that this may apply to an institution like a hospital too.  That is, because there are a lot of sick people kept together, why isn’t everyone getting sicker?  But there is a big difference between a hospital and a prison (or indeed a psychiatric hospital).  While people in hospital may be physically vulnerable the vast majority will, in all probability, be emotionally well enough.  I believe that when we are emotionally vulnerable it is more difficult to discern what is good for us and what is bad, whereas being physically vulnerable does not necessarily cause us to lose that discernment.

[2]. One very interesting, courageous and insightful study was done in University of Limerick some years ago by (now retired) Governor Richie Roche of the Irish Prison Service, who kindly allowed me to use it.  Self-care is a term that we might not jump out at us when we think of prison officers but Richie’s thesis posits the benefits of attending to it in the prison environment. If anyone wishes to read it please contact me.

[3]. I personally know many people who have changed their lives for the better because of a term of imprisonment – and attribute the change, in full or in part, to the positive influence of prison officers.

I am writing this post as an interested external observer. I’d be very grateful for any views, insights, comments etc. from prison staff, whether serving or retired.

I will start by arguing that, in a general sense, the closer people who work within the Pillars are to the problems of exclusion, crime, imprisonment etc. (i.e. Focus Group characteristics) the more willing they are to appreciate (and therefore believe) that more creative methods of working are needed to solve problems presented.

Throughout my career in this area of work I have met many prison officers that have good will towards people in custody and their families and wish to be involved in assisting them.  Indeed, prison officers are one of the few statutory professionals that actually journey with very distressed and debilitated families.

The reasons why I believe that officers are a huge (and I don’t use that word lightly) and often untapped reserve, are:

~ (As I stated above) – they live with people who have suffered trauma, who have serious addiction problems, and who mostly live chaotic lives for long periods of time.

~ They get to know families due to arranging visits, phone calls, occasions etc.  Thus they learn quickly what is going on in families, who is trustworthy, who is not, even who is in danger, who is safe, who is wise, who has leadership potential etc.

~ Not only do they deal with trauma directly, (unlike many other professionals in education, health and justice) they also deal with the aftermath – sometimes for a long time.

~ They develop skills in managing anger, anxiety, fear, etc. in others, and negotiating difficulties with people who can be very unreasonable.

~ They have a vested interest in keeping those who are in prison emotionally well in themselves.

And very importantly:

~ Because most people who go to prison are young immature men and women, officers (both male and female) are powerful role models.

In short – officers have a relationship (the thing that has potential for most change) with people in prison and their families, and (as we mentioned previously) they are culturally familiar with their situation.

Also (and, once again contrary to what is portrayed in media and entertainment in general) men and women serving time in prison often think about things very deeply. Remembering the Chapter on Symmetry – they will be attracted to people who match the depth that they have themselves.

This is rarely experienced in the external world of shunting from professional to professional, short, hurried meetings, and the asymmetric diagnosis/prognosis.

Deep conversations have a much greater chance of occurring in encounters within prison, and officers are very well placed to make use of such conversations to enhance awareness or even, simply, offer a meaning to prisoners’ experiences.  I believe that it is far easier to find meaning in something if we are experiencing it in the context of a sense of belonging, which is something that those in custody can have when in prison.

This, of course, brings us right back to family – it is likely that the deep conversations that have meaning, (which officers have potential to be part of), are about family, children and relationship, and very possibly are a yearning for a sense of belonging in some stable entity outside the prison.

We are always trying to improve prison conditions and thereby reduce the likelihood that those who are released will re-offend.  (A person who continually re-offends is called a recidivist).

There are some good exemplars of prison regimes particularly in places like Scandinavia but we can’t simply transfer the Scandinavian model to Ireland because there is a substantial cultural difference between their countries and ours.

However we can learn a lot from others and graft what we learn onto the best of what we can come up with that is sympathetic to, or matches, our own culture.