Where’s our redress?
Once again prison psychology has come under the
microscope for a reason that I believe everyone who has ever worked in
prison has known for years: The courses just do not work!
As a mandatory lifer, I have suffered for the past
22-years with the quote ‘you have to complete this course, then that
course, and then we’ll find another one for you’. I had completed
15-years before the courses began and I was on my way out. On a 15-year
tariff I have now served 37-years, due in the main to prison psychologists.
But for me, the real question is – how do all the Parole
Board members who have continually given inmates knockbacks because they
‘need to complete behavioural courses’ feel now this report has been
exposed? Do they feel even the slightest twinge of guilt at their
preposterous decisions, or are they really so unfeeling of this rotten
system?They hid these findings for years and have proved just how
devious they can be. So this gives me little or no hope for the future.
This is another of Grayling’s messes. Inside times.
Jez
I think that guilt is something that
parole board members are unlikely to feel and if they do they will most
likely find another job. Dealing in PERCEIVED risk is a mindset and I'm
sure once your in that world you disconnect
from the reality of the fact that there is someone's life hanging on
the end of the decisions you make. Someone's son or daughter, father or
mother. The doctoring of perceived risk is your only mandate. Will
he/she harm someone? Do I PERCEIVE a danger? To me I tend to take a
simplistic view that someone who has made a mistake in life is far less
likely to make the same mistake again. Perhaps I'm just very simple
minded but I tend to avoid judging other people in anyway different than
the way I judge myself. Making people do course after course, denying
them parole because they need to do more to demonstrate that they have
lowered some perceived risk, in a perceived thought in the mind of a
probation officer who has never even bothered to meet with them in
person is enough to drive anyone completely and utterly nuts! In my
opinion.
"Chair of the Parole Board Nick Harwick in the guardian said: The onus should be on the state to
prove they are likely to commit another offense, rather than on the
prisoner to show that they are not".
"Eric
Allison is the Guardian’s prison correspondent said: The state created
this lousy logjam, it should use its executive power to set those
undeservedly trapped in it free."
"Polly Toynbee Guardian , Government created a crises "Its time
for justice to be rational ""
Addiction Is Not A Crime
Katherine Gleeson
A mother of son is currently
serving in HMP Winchester re an IPP Sentence and relate to the
article wants to do everything she can to help my son. He was
sentenced to an IPP after committing a crime 15 years ago, he served years
in prison. After an appeal he was released into the Community. she
said he worked and lived in the community for 6 years doing well studying
criminology and achieved degrees etc. Unfortunately, he lapsed and failed
a drug test in Dec 2017, therefore due to the IPP sentence he is currently in
prison. I she is trying to do everything she can to help him be released.
Is it right to keep recalling
those released for non-offenses just because they have an addiction to
drink or drugs or for what they might do? If that,s the case you might as
well recall the whole population. I am sure there is a lot of people out there
who would admit to an addiction and function well in society with support.
Is it right that Probation punish those who have addictions over and over and additionally IPP prisoners for rule breaks.Probation have a duty of care and should support those who need help. We must allow those to address their
relapse without persecution or punished otherwise how does one truss.
Having an addiction im sure is no
fun and this is why sustenance’s abuse is a mental health issue.It comes under disability if you have longer than a year. Having a addiction or neurological disorders its likely your not going to focus
and stick to rules therefore probation must be professional to deal
with the issues and give leeway to the Vulnerable and not to keep recalling.
I would like to see those
released under medical grounds be supported in the community. The UK needs to
move forward and follow examples of other countries and end the Punishment of mental health . We must have a urgent debate in the house of Parliament and go forward with a fresh approaches to old methods
and makes a difference. End
the IPP issue and deal with drugs in prisons and give those leaving prison end to
end support.
The Government have been
debating the injustice of the IPP for a decade and have done nothing to change anything for decades. We
should be questioning why the House of parliament have not questioned the previous 4
Justice Secretaryon why they have not acted sooner, moreover our current justice Secretary David Lidington likewise the Prime Minster?
For to long we have
been listening to the government with there repetitive discussions and debates along with the Ministry of Justice who say " we
are progressing but in realityhave been failing.
Charlie Lloyd disclosure statement has received funding from the National Institute of Health Research Policy Research Programme for the research discussed in this article.
Our research showed that some of these pilots, known as Drug Recovery
Wings (DRWs) showed promise, involving dedicated staff and highly
motivated prisoners. But too often these prisoners faced a “cliff edge”
of support on release.
Many became homeless or resorted to living in
chaotic, “crackhead” hostels, bed and breakfasts and night shelters.
There is a pressing need to identify new approaches that can link
effective treatment in prisons with proper, well-funded support on
release.
The ten pilot DRWs were set up during 2011 and 2012 and, with £30,000
each to cover initial costs, they were given considerable license to
develop their own models to reflect local needs. The resulting pilots
were very varied: capacity ranged from 20 to 140 beds and therapeutic
content from structured full-time programmes to the basic support
offered elsewhere in the prison. Some were run by uniformed prison
officers, others by third sector treatment professionals, and some were
carefully segregated from the rest of the prison while others shared the
wider regime.
My colleagues and I were funded by the National Institute of Health
Research to undertake a substantial evaluation of these pilots. We found
that some of the DRWs were promising, with prisoners expressing strong
motivation to make changes in their lives and survey data showing a
significantly higher quality of life on the wings compared to other
locations in the prison. Key to their success appeared to be a mixture
of physical separation from the rest of the prison and protection of
beds in the wings only for prisoners engaged in the programme. A strong
sense of community and good relations between prisoners and staff who
were strongly committed to the programme were also important.
Life after release
We surveyed 109 prisoners after they had been living back in the
community for six months. Comparing the six months prior to custody with
the six months following release, there were considerable reductions in
drug and alcohol use, and self-reported offending.
However, as we did
not have another group of prisoners to compare these to, these
reductions cannot be attributed to DRWs.
We also interviewed a group of 36 prisoners six months after their
release from a DRW, which gave us a more detailed picture of the lives
they were leading outside prison. We found that a major obstacle to
prisoners’ continuing recovery was the absence of acceptable
accommodation.
Most commonly, they had been released to a hostel or
local authority-funded bed and breakfast. These were almost universally
described as deeply unpleasant environments. One man from Manchester
told us:
There were a lot of drugs. It was a horrible place. It was worse than jail.Others were released homeless. One man from Brixton told us:
Nothing. Nothing. I came out with 50 quid in my pocket, street homeless. No hostel, no night shelter, nothing. I was down housing every day looking for a place, but nothing come up.
Where we could, we also interviewed people providing support to the
ex-prisoners, usually their partners or parents. These interviews often
elicited the most poignant narratives. One woman from Swansea, the
parent of an ex-prisoner, told us:
Well I suppose it’s just continuously feeling for years that you’re not getting anywhere. And always keep on going in spite of having police in the house and raiding the house… And sort of breaking your heart seeing his life is going by and no changes for him, you know?
Support on the outside
We concluded that while some DRWs offered promising approaches inside
prison, without continuing help on release, such efforts were often in
vain, with prisoners’ plans for making radical changes to their lives
swiftly evaporating upon release. Much more needs to be done to help
such prisoners on release from prison, linked more effectively to
therapeutic work in prison.
This study has also led us to question what is really meant by the
use of the word “recovery” in a prison setting. Two influential American
researchers in the drug recovery field have pointed to the importance
of “recovery capital”,
which they define as: “The sum total of one’s resources that can be
brought to bear in an effort to overcome alcohol and drug dependency.”
Imprisonment inevitably erodes people’s recovery capital by reducing
contact with family and friends, lessening the chances of finding
suitable accommodation and employment, and exacerbating mental health
problems.
Prison “recovery” programmes may therefore best be aimed at
limiting this damage: by working to maintain links with families and
gain employment skills while inside. They can also provide an
environment that can foster and support a commitment to moving on from
drug use and offending – as the best DRWs did. Yet, everything depends
on what then happens when they walk through those prison gates.
Keir Irwin-Rogers, The Open University, UK.
Whilst most people leaving prison in England and Wales return to private places of residence, a significant minority are required to live in hostels (officially referred to as Approved Premises (APs)). All residents are instructed to observe strict night-time curfews. During the day, people are usually able to leave the hostel, although residency can include a range of mandatory programmes and activities designed to increase the likelihood of their successful reintegration into the community. In addition, people are expected to engage in regular supervision sessions with hostel and probation workers. Failure to observe curfews, attend programmes and supervision sessions, or generally be of ‘good behaviour’, can result in people being recalled to prison.
In 2013, I spent a period of six months visiting three APs, conducting periods of observation and interviewing residents and members of hostel staff. The research generated a number of interesting findings,[i] one of which concerns a fundamental role conflict that threatens to severely undermine the legitimacy of APs and post-release supervision, particularly in light of current resource pressures. The conflict stems from hostel and probation workers being tasked with providing help and support to AP residents, whilst simultaneously monitoring and controlling their behaviour to reduce the ‘risk’ they pose to members of the public. An interview with one resident, Paul, provides a good illustration of this issue.
Paul had initially hoped that his time in an AP would be useful in supporting his reintegration into the community. He was open and honest during his first supervision session, placing trust in his probation worker and going into depth about his hopes and anxieties for the months ahead. He divulged details about a recent evening during which he had been drinking with an old friend. As the evening progressed, his friend became heavily intoxicated, and Paul told his probation worker that he was concerned the friend had developed an alcohol addiction.
A few days after the meeting, a member of hostel staff approached Paul to inform him that his probation worker had decided to insert a condition onto his licence that prohibited him from drinking alcohol. Paul was furious and felt that his trust had been betrayed. He immediately disengaged from his supervision sessions, informing me that in future he would simply ‘smile and nod’ in response to his probation worker’s questions, and that he would no longer share anything that might result in him being subjected to additional licence conditions that further restricted his liberty.
Some academics and professionals commenting on this case have argued that it was simply a particular instance of a probation officer doing their job badly. Analogies are often drawn to parenting – if parents are able to provide help and support to their child whilst punishing bad behaviour, why should supervision be any different? The problem with this analogy is that parents invariably (or ought to) have the best interests of their child at heart. The same is not true in the case of supervisors and their supervisees: what is perceived to be in the best interests of members of the public may not be in the best interests of someone subject to post-release supervision – in other words, whereas a parent’s loyalties are clear and undivided, a supervisor’s are not.
It is also worth highlighting that Paul’s subsequent game-playing approach to supervision was far from atypical. Stories like Paul’s frequently circulated through the shared living spaces in APs, and people soon learnt to adopt a healthy scepticism regarding the notion that their hostel and probation workers were there to help. Indeed, how can we expect AP residents to openly discuss the challenges they face – their concerns, anxieties and setbacks – with someone whose overriding priority is to protect members of the public and who may therefore respond by imposing further restrictive licence conditions and/or sending that person back to prison?
Highly trained and experienced supervising officers with relatively low caseloads and the time to reflect on a complex set of factors may well be able to ameliorate some of the tensions that arise from the task of balancing help and support with monitoring and control. Presently, however, supervisors are often not provided with adequate training, increasingly lack experience, and are under enormous resource pressures owing to caseloads that have reached unprecedented levels. In this environment, the legitimacy of post-release supervision is under severe threat. Once lost, it may be very difficult to regain – the consequence of this will almost certainly not be in the best interests of members of the public.
Contact Us: Postal Address:Institute of Criminology University of Cambridge Sidgwick Avenue Information provided by: compen.contact@crim.cam.ac.uk
See Irwin-Rogers, K. (2017) Legitimacy on Licence: Why and How it Matters. The Howard Journal of Crime and Justice. 56(1): 53-71; Irwin-Rogers, K. (2017) Staff-resident relationships in Approved Premises: What a difference a door makes. Probation Journal. DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.1177/0264550517728785.
Conflict in Approved Premises and post-prison supervision
Keir Irwin-Rogers, The Open University, UK.
Whilst most people leaving prison in England and Wales return to private places of residence, a significant minority are required to live in hostels (officially referred to as Approved Premises (APs)). All residents are instructed to observe strict night-time curfews. During the day, people are usually able to leave the hostel, although residency can include a range of mandatory programmes and activities designed to increase the likelihood of their successful reintegration into the community. In addition, people are expected to engage in regular supervision sessions with hostel and probation workers. Failure to observe curfews, attend programmes and supervision sessions, or generally be of ‘good behaviour’, can result in people being recalled to prison.
In 2013, I spent a period of six months visiting three APs, conducting periods of observation and interviewing residents and members of hostel staff. The research generated a number of interesting findings,[i] one of which concerns a fundamental role conflict that threatens to severely undermine the legitimacy of APs and post-release supervision, particularly in light of current resource pressures. The conflict stems from hostel and probation workers being tasked with providing help and support to AP residents, whilst simultaneously monitoring and controlling their behaviour to reduce the ‘risk’ they pose to members of the public. An interview with one resident, Paul, provides a good illustration of this issue.
Paul had initially hoped that his time in an AP would be useful in supporting his reintegration into the community. He was open and honest during his first supervision session, placing trust in his probation worker and going into depth about his hopes and anxieties for the months ahead. He divulged details about a recent evening during which he had been drinking with an old friend. As the evening progressed, his friend became heavily intoxicated, and Paul told his probation worker that he was concerned the friend had developed an alcohol addiction.
A few days after the meeting, a member of hostel staff approached Paul to inform him that his probation worker had decided to insert a condition onto his licence that prohibited him from drinking alcohol. Paul was furious and felt that his trust had been betrayed. He immediately disengaged from his supervision sessions, informing me that in future he would simply ‘smile and nod’ in response to his probation worker’s questions, and that he would no longer share anything that might result in him being subjected to additional licence conditions that further restricted his liberty.
Some academics and professionals commenting on this case have argued that it was simply a particular instance of a probation officer doing their job badly. Analogies are often drawn to parenting – if parents are able to provide help and support to their child whilst punishing bad behaviour, why should supervision be any different? The problem with this analogy is that parents invariably (or ought to) have the best interests of their child at heart. The same is not true in the case of supervisors and their supervisees: what is perceived to be in the best interests of members of the public may not be in the best interests of someone subject to post-release supervision – in other words, whereas a parent’s loyalties are clear and undivided, a supervisor’s are not.
It is also worth highlighting that Paul’s subsequent game-playing approach to supervision was far from atypical. Stories like Paul’s frequently circulated through the shared living spaces in APs, and people soon learnt to adopt a healthy scepticism regarding the notion that their hostel and probation workers were there to help. Indeed, how can we expect AP residents to openly discuss the challenges they face – their concerns, anxieties and setbacks – with someone whose overriding priority is to protect members of the public and who may therefore respond by imposing further restrictive licence conditions and/or sending that person back to prison?
Highly trained and experienced supervising officers with relatively low caseloads and the time to reflect on a complex set of factors may well be able to ameliorate some of the tensions that arise from the task of balancing help and support with monitoring and control. Presently, however, supervisors are often not provided with adequate training, increasingly lack experience, and are under enormous resource pressures owing to caseloads that have reached unprecedented levels. In this environment, the legitimacy of post-release supervision is under severe threat. Once lost, it may be very difficult to regain – the consequence of this will almost certainly not be in the best interests of members of the public.
Contact Us: Postal Address:Institute of Criminology University of Cambridge Sidgwick Avenue Information provided by: compen.contact@crim.cam.ac.uk
See Irwin-Rogers, K. (2017) Legitimacy on Licence: Why and How it Matters. The Howard Journal of Crime and Justice. 56(1): 53-71; Irwin-Rogers, K. (2017) Staff-resident relationships in Approved Premises: What a difference a door makes. Probation Journal. DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.1177/0264550517728785.
Life in prison 2017
The Chief Inspector of Prisons and his team are acutely aware that people may be getting increasingly desensitised to inspection reports many of which describe very similar situations — increased violence; drug use; poor conditions and prisoners spending far too much time locked in their cells.For this reason, they have published today (10 October 2017) a new report: Life in Prison — Living Conditions. Here’s the first two paragraphs of the introduction reproduced in full:
http://www.russellwebster.com/prison-conditions-2017/
https://insidetime.org/wheres-our-redress/
https://theconversation.com/unless-prisoners-have-a-good-place-to-live-after-release-prison-drug-rehabilitation-wont-work-85131
https://www.compen.crim.cam.ac.uk/Blog/blog-pages-full-versions/blog-13-keir
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2017/sep/15/ipp-prisoners-james-ward-jail-sentences-parole
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