Prisoners take drugs, and sex is rife among prisoners and those who guard them. To those familiar with the criminal justice system, and in particular, the warehouses and hell holes we call jails, the revelations in today’s Age newspaper about drug abuse and sex in Victoria’s womens’ prison will come as no surprise. It is an inevitable result of governments refusing to put funds into effective rehabilitation, drug treatment facilities, and to take measures to alleviate the boredom that is the hallmark of day to day life in our prison system.
Unlike some countries of northern Europe, in Australia we subscribe to the primitive Anglo view of punishment – that people should be treated as less than human when they are deprived of their liberty. The Dame Phyllis Frost prison in Melbourne where, The Age reports, in the “past six months, at least seven — and possibly 11 — prisoners have had one or more serious drug overdoses,” and prison officials are having sex while on duty, is simply a manifestation of that culture.
Until Australian policy makers and the community recognize that prison should in fact be about improving lives and not destroying them, then the sort of conduct that is apparently de rigueur at Dame Phyllis Frost will continue.
Over eighty percent of prisoners, male and female, have either a mental illness or an addiction to legal or illegal drugs, or both. Therapies and programs to address these problematic issues in prisoners’ lives are piecemeal and access to them is restricted by budgetary constraints and because they are used as a disciplinary tool. Play up and you get taken off the program, is the warped logic that prevails in prisons in Australia. Prohibition of drugs ensures that trafficking into prison is worthwhile.
But what about prison officers having sex on the job? Who can blame them? We design our prisons in such a way that they are designed to make those who work in them feel depressed and bored. The average Austrian prison lacks greenery and internally is painted grey, white or beige. There is little or no artwork on the walls, and the work consists merely of counting ‘bodies’ and playing social controller.
The problems at Dame Phyllis Frost, and all Australian prisons for that matter, will not go away until we adopt a more enlightened and effective approach to prison life. Not only do we need to make our prisons more physically conducive to social behaviours but when it comes to drug treatment there needs to be needle exchange programs and methadone programs made available to every prisoner.
In July this year, the British government announced the roll our of methadone vending machines to its prisons and a 2006 research report from the European Union found that “prison needle exchange programs reduces needle sharing very effectively, can increase uptake of drug treatment as well as the safety in the prison, and can reduce abscesses and fatal overdoses.”
It is also time our governments spent money on ensuring that prisons were designed to alleviate the frustration felt by prison officers and prisoners alike. As Michael Jacobson, head of the New York based think tank, the Vera Institute, has observed “Officers serve life sentences eight hours at a time.”
Jim Lewis, the author of a thoughtful essay on prison architecture in the June 10 edition of The New York Times magazine, observed that prisoners and officers “want prisons to be safer and more humane…They want smaller, less anonymous units. They want more natural light.”
Until our prisons become places of wellbeing and rehabilitation then expect officers and prisoners to continue to find solace in drugs and sex.
Greg Barns is legal adviser to Tasmanian lobby group, Prison Action Reform.
Are we talking about Australian prisons, why do we then mention Austrian prisons ?
How about mentioning the ACT’s brand new Alexander Maconochie Centre.
Opening it last year, John Stanhope said, “For the first time in Australia, we have a prison that is fully human rights compliant.”
A bit of credit where it’s due. And acknowledgment that a decent, affordable solution to the institutionalized degradation and abuse of the traditional prison is not so exotic that we have to read architects in the New Yorker to imagine it.
Love the beer ad at top right. As John Elliot is rumoured to have said vis-à-vis Crown/VB, “Same sh-t, different bottle.”
Greg, you haven’t explained why I should give a rats arse about these scumbags anyway… I think you need to cover that, because I have known a lot of these people in my time and I’m telling you now, they don’t get rehabilitated by the softly, softly approach anyway, they just take advantage. So what difference does it make?
James Edwards: Fair question. Allow me.
1. Risk to ourselves when a jail sentence is complete.
The majority of prisoners are not in for life, they will be released some day. The outcome of your next encounter with them might be affected by how much psychological damage they experienced there, or how much time they’ve spent doing something constructive like studying, socialising, or playing sport.
2. Delivering a message of lawful standards of behaviour.
Imprisonment is a message to criminals that certain kinds of behaviours are unacceptable. What sort of message does it send to a prisoner if we institutionalise a practice of (and this wasn’t mentioned in the story at all) turning a blind eye to systemic violent rape in prisons? Sure, it may serve a sense of natural justice – some of them are rapists themselves and some worse – but if a prisoner feels that the state willingly sanctioned his rape, do you think that will have a positive or a negative affect on his respect for society and the law when he gets out?
3. Making it difficult to give life sentences for the most dangerous people.
The law often does not send the most dangerous people to prison for long enough. For example s-xual-sadistic murderers, sociopathic child molesters, and so on. This is partly because judges are well aware that most prisons are hell to a greater or lesser degree. Judges are reluctant to send people into hell for any longer than absolutely necessary within the sentencing guidelines, so they tend to err on the side of shorter sentences rather than longer. If prisons were not hell, then judges might be more willing to send the most terrible and dangerous people away for life.