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Prison has ceased to be a place primarily focused on punishment. Rehabilitation, education and choice are the key words being pushed around behind the concrete walls and wire fences of the notorious HMP Leeds. I spent a day in Leeds Jail to investigate the lives of people behind the bars, and the keepers of the keys.
Spending an hour chatting to the prison officers I learned about their experiences in the prison service. One who had been in the service for 30 years told me that “although I have had both my wrists broken, my nose broken and my throat slashed, I still love my job.” It was here that I became a little anxious.
However he went on to say: “I like to think that I might be making a difference to these men, helping them to reform themselves and their lives.”
Although I have had both my wrists broken, my nose broken and my throat slashed, I still love my job.
Hearing such words makes you realise the remarkable commitment these officers have for their work. Before our tour of the prison, the officers advised us to leave all our belongings in this room, to stay close to them at all times, and not to engage in conversation with the inmates. Apprehensive, but with full confidence in our officers, we began our journey through one of society’s most notorious institutions.
HMP Leeds is a category B prison, where prisoners are held on remand, whilst also holding newly convicted prisoners within its catchment area. Because of this, it is known as the ‘Clapham Junction of the North’. Built in 1846, it is one of the oldest prisons in the UK, its dark bastions and castellated towers giving an ominous impression of a medieval fortress.
Our fingerprints and photographs were taken and after the turning of many a key we were inside the prison. It was just like how it is in the movies; rows upon rows of tiny cells with inmates making phone calls, chatting to officers and jeering us on as we passed through each wing. It was not dirty or odorous, but had a vaguely unpleasant clinical atmosphere.
It was not dirty or odorous, but had a vaguely unpleasant clinical atmosphere.
The lighting was intense and the walls completely bare. With a prisoner’s permission, the officers took us into his cell. The room was small with a tiny window, a bunk bed, a toilet and a set of drawers on which a TV crackled. On the walls, amongst many photos of topless women, were clippings from newspaper articles such as ‘Call this Justice?’ and ‘What a Waste of a Life’. The repetitive, boring and claustrophobic life of an inmate was rapidly materialising.
Our next stop was the prison library where, ironically, the most popular books are crime novels. There are about 400 visitors a week and the average level of literacy in the jail is that of a 10 year old. We continued through the prison wing, past the cell that used to hold the Yorkshire Ripper, into the Segregation Unit.
This is where protest prisoners are monitored. The cell contained a toilet and bed, where CCTV monitors the prisoner’s every movement, the toilet is flushed from the outside and there is the stereotypical hatch in the door through which food is passed. The prisoner is assessed every two hours and will be moved to a standard cell if he complies with the rules.
HMP Leeds is focussed on both discipline and development. Our officers informed us of the many courses available to prisoners; they have the option to sit GCSEs and A-levels and qualify in food hygiene, art and craft and other skilled courses.
They can work inside the prison, as a cleaner or in the kitchen, for up to £11 a week. The prisoners are encouraged to use their time constructively, to reflect and correct their attitudes and way of life. Every prisoner has the choice of being put through a detox program, where they will receive counselling and medical treatment in order to curb whatever addiction or problem they may have. I got the impression that the prison service was more of a correctional facility, rather than a place of hardship and punishment.
Outside the prison building were massive thick concrete walls, which were beaked to ensure no ladders or hooks could be conveniently positioned. Fermenting fruit was stacked up against many of the prisoners windows. We passed the courtyard where hangings used to take place and the infamous hangman Pier Point prided himself on being able to hang a man (from his room to the noose) in 90 seconds. I was glad to return to the comfort of sofas, tea and coffee.
Effectively, the prisoners are allowed to continue the habit which put them in prison in the first place.
Drug use is a major problem in HMP Leeds. They are smuggled inside by every means possible; thrown over the walls, concealed under stamps, brought in babies' nappies and other unmentionable ways. Someone witnessed a prisoner reading a magazine in the visitors’ area, licking his fingers as he flicked through, then proceeded to embark on a fantastical LSD trip. Nearly two thirds of prisoners are on prescribed methadone; it is illegal to force prisoners to undertake detox courses. Effectively, the prisoners are allowed to continue the habit which put them in prison in the first place.
Society has yet to come up with a method of preventing crime and perfecting rehabilitation strategies. Prisons were at full capacity when capital punishment was legal, when living conditions were abominable, when no mercy was shown upon those who refuse authority and law. So what works? Despite the more liberal and opportunist approach concerning time spent in prison, criminals continue to re-offend. Maybe we need to address the symptoms first before reacting to the problems.
For three years, one of the officers had ran a programme named 'Youth Justice' which brought young offenders into the prison to talk to an inmate. After discussing the difficulties of prison life, the young people chose never to offend again. However, the government pulled the funding and the scheme was abandoned.
The question we have to ask ourselves is whether prisons are effective ways to prevent crime and ensure prisoner rehabilitation. Prisons are not to be ignored; it is within them that society’s greatest failings are personified.
Prison should be a place of hard labour and despair. This article just describes everything that is wrong with our justice system. Its about time we brought back capital punishment.
Prison should be a place of rehabilitation, not necessarily punishment (especially in countries such as ours where drug users are criminalised). Once a sentence is served, convicts should be free (and safe) to return to society without subsequent persecution. If there is a good reason to persecute them once their sentence has been served, then I'd argue that the sentence was not adequate or appropriate.
I agree with Mitch, i think the film A Clockwork Orange explains the same point excellently.
Indeed. #1 obviously reads the Daily Express. Making prison a punishment rather than about making them safe for society means that when they're released, they'll be no better than before and just a great a threat to the general public.
However, the deterrent factor of punishment does have to be retained. While it should primarily be about rehabilitation, it should by no means be seen as an easy way out.
I don't know who said this originally, but I like the quote nonetheless:
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