Will Prison Riot Inquiries Have Wide Enough Scope?

Press, Volume CIV, Issue 30829, 14 August 1965, Page 5

Will Prison Riot Inquiries Have Wide Enough Scope?

(Specially written for "The Press.”) THE recent riots at Mount Eden and Paparua and the disorders elsewhere, besides causing public dismay have also raised the question whether there is something wrong with our prison system and, if so, whether the trouble may be attributed to a single factor or a number of interacting causes.

Most of these causes have already been canvassed, and no doubt the immediate occasions of the disturbances will be disclosed if. and when, the results of the magisterial inquiries are made public. But whether these inquiries w ill have the scope or authority’ to probe below the surface of things and to examine critically our prisons sy stem is another matter.

Within the limits laid down, the selection of magistrates to perform this task was probably logical and inevitable. But if there had been a decision to examine our prisons complex more searchingly, it is arguable that a person w i t h a fresh viewpoint and unassailable to charges of conservatism or undue adherence to the status quo might also have added something of much value. What, in fact, is wrong with our prisons? Are the prison staff too tough in their attitude towards the prisoners or not tough enough? Are our prisons too soft and indulgent or are they so grim as to provoke desperate men to extreme measures? Are they suitable for the job they are expected to do? Are there enough of them, and are they of the right type? Are they properly administered? Is enough done to give the inmates educational and psychological help? Should not some of the inmates be more properly housed in mental institutions? And, bearing in mind that each inmate costs the taxpayer £750 a year, could not more be done to retain some offenders in the community] while subjecting them to the] process of re-education and ] regeneration? In short, is our prisons’ system efficient or a hig-gledy-piggledy 19th century anachronism within our 20th century society? Layman's V iew I am chairman of a group of business and professional men who have been “prison] visiting’’ for the last three years and who have discussed these matters at] some length. I do not pre-] tend to be an expert or to know the answers to all the questions raised. But my observations may be of some value because they represent the viewpoint of a layman who, while being uninvolved in the system, has yet some knowledge of it. To a visitor, one of the most striking things in Paparua is the mixing of prisoners guilty of all sorts and types of crime. There seems to be no attempt to segregate such “technical" criminals as driving offenders, maintenance defaulters, bookmakers and so on from persons convicted of the more violent crimes. It would appear that many in the former category are prepared to endure their sentences philosophically without fuss and bother, and might well be kept in conditions of lesser security. Although the law makes no distinction—in its eyes all are criminals —it is verycostly to keep the relatively

Across I—One might be on thorns even in this easy position. (3, 2,5) S—Poor time-keeper when the weather is bad. (3-4) 9—There's ground for thinking it’s a heart disorder. (5) 10— Cowardly at bottom. (4) 11— His paintings are dotty if you ask me! (8) 13—Relaxing at sea with gin, perhaps. (6) 15—Bard goes round ship then has hot milk drink. (6) 17— Mixed, but no longer lethargic. (6, 2) 18— Sore head? (4) 21— Concerning a letter made public. (5) 22 Run around in front of a very hot place. (7) 23 — Require the French to be employed in sewing. (10) |

I harmless and the relatively (dangerous all together (under the same fairly high [degree of security. To a 'large extent this problem lis caused by the lack of suitable alternative accom- | modation. I The unhappy fact is that not only are there not enough institutions of different types to cater for these various classifications of offenders—nor enough trained psychologists |and other specialist staff to deal with them —but also that this lack of variety adds enormously to the over-all cost of the prison system. At Paparua the ratio of staff to inmates varies from one to about four or five, but in institutions of lower security, where it is contended (many of its present inhabiI tants could be more suitably ] placed, the ratio could be much lower. Lower security institutions (should be quite adequate for ] “technical” criminals and the { persistent minor offenders who | have proved themselves to be (docile and co-operative. Harmless Inmates It is a recognised fact that a significant proportion of our prison population consists of relatively harmless persons whose criminal activities are a nuisance, rather than a hazard to society, and for these people some sort of less stringent, but nonetheless controlled, environment would not only be a more humane solution but an infinitely less costly one for the country. While it might be feared that escapes would be made ] from institutions of lower (security, the risk might prove acceptable from the point of (view. (a) That such escapers if any, would not be a major hazard to life or property and would probably be fairly easily recaptured anyway. (b) That keeping them out of the more powerfully guarded places would enable the more dangerous [ minority to be more effectively supervised. (c) That much public money would be saved in the building and staffing of lesser security institutions. Unfortunately a certain proportion of our prison inmates lean be regarded as being not amenable to attempts at social regeneration.

Appeal System At one end of the scale are the vicious and dangeJrous criminals or persistent escapers who must [be kept in high security; in the middle are I the many grades of the moderately dangerous and trouble- | some: and at the other end i the many persistent offenders in petty crime whose long sentences are earned not for the heinousness of their crimes, but for the frequency with which they are repeated. Some of this latter group of unfortunate persons receive sentences of preventive detention ranging from a minimum of three years to a maximum of 14. After serving two years prisoners are able to appeal to a board twice yearly. One

Down I 2—See the Royal Navy confused about sea-eagles. (5) 3—She God of good intent. (4) i 4—Tell how church dignitary lost his head. (6) s—Wild, woolly animals closely follow farmer's friend. (5-3) i 6—Saunters along the street to classy car. (7) j 7 —Giving to the poor cleaner one piece of furniture. (10) I B—Substitute brought to account for overthrow. (10) 12—Shake lute sent for restoration. (8) ; 14—Crush broken vase and tin. (5, 2) 16—Will complete, if returned in full. (6) 19— Can be a rich piece of furniture. (5) 20— Pull minor up. (4) (Solution, Page 12)

is a “paper” board in Wellington to which they address their appeals in writing, the other a personal board before I which they appear. ] For some time before these ] boards the men become tense land edgy. If they are lucky (enough to “get a date,” that is for their release, all is well; but the unlucky ones often turn bitter and morose. Hated Sentence For obvious reasons prisoners detest the sentence of preventive detention and I have yet to meet a prison officer who approves of it. It is a particularly unsettling and severe type of sentence for the prisoner cannot know his term and his morale is shaken by the frequent raising and dashing of his hopes. Rightly or wrongly, he comes to feel he is the victim of injustice. While there are, no doubt, grounds for retaining it in special cases, its use against the persistent petty offender seems unwarranted. Sometimes a persistent offender who has regularly appeared in court all his life will suddenly be seen no more. This usually happens in his late forties or early fifties and although the reason is sometimes ascribed to a belated acquislt’on of prudence, it is more generally thought to be due to the effect of the change of life. Thus preventive detention sentences may unwittingly be both cruel and unnecessary if imposed shortly before this physical and psychological change. What of the prisoners who do not come into the persistent category? Those who learn after one or two sentences? They, too, occupy time and space in our prisons, and

lit is debatable whether they should as long as they do. It is generally agreed that a new prisoner’s most impressionable and susceptible period is in the first week or two of his sentence when the shock of confinement and loss of liberty combine to render him amenable and receptive. Some experienced persons believe a short, sharp prison sentence —shorter than generally given at present followed by a strenuous programme of re-education within the community would be more effective than retaining these persons in a prison where they soon become acclimatised to their environment, accept it and are accepted by it, and in the process of being absorbed by its community life inevitably acquire education of the wrong sort. Their association for prolonged periods with experienced criminals can do nothing but harm, and the educational and psychological services available as a counterdeterrent are far too thin on the ground. Locking up the person who offers a good prospect of reform does not solve his particular problem as a rule: it only removes the problem temporarily from circulation and sometimes causes it to reemerge in a more virulent form. Reform Essential But if such persons are to be reformed within the community, they must be kept under a carefully calculated degree of control and restraint. The most severe punishment one can inflict on most men is on their leisure and their pocket, and it is suggested that this is where both reform and punishment should lie. As a man must work and sleep, whether in prison or not, it seems a waste of public money for him to do it in an expensive institution. Why not let him keep his job, or find another, and live in his own home at his own expense?

He should be required to attend lectures and films in the evenings and special courses during week-ends: thus punishment by loss of leisure and re-education would go hand in hand. And, most important, whatever damage or financial loss he may have been responsible for he should make good out of his earnings. This would bring his misdemeanour home to him in a particularly forcible way. Thus the offender, instead of costing the State about £l5 a week and earning nothing so far as free society is concerned, would earn £l5 a week contributing this in goods and services to society, and cost the taxpayer very much less than he does as a prison inmate. Not only would the net saving be considerable, but by remaining at home with his family, if he were married, his marriage would not be so likely to break up, as it so often does when the breadwinner is sentenced to substantial terms of imprisonment. The broken home is the most fertile breeding place of future criminals. Should an offender prove unco-operative in attending his quota of evening lectures and weekend schools, or in accepting any of the other limitations that might be imposed on him, he should be confronted with the alternative of going back to prison. There is no doubt what the majority would prefer. The great defect of prisons, as seen by members of my group, is that they remove from free society to an environment where all decisions are made for them, persons whose greatest need is to learn or be taught how to make decisions for themselves.

Way To Learn

There is only one way of learning how to do something difficult, be it reading, writing, golf or self-control and that is by doing it over and over again. This is also true of the difficult art of citizenship and in order to practise it, as many offenders as possible should be retained within society or returned to it at the earliest opportunity, so that a measure of freedom may be combined with a measure of restraint, and so that education, guidance and persuasion may leaven the loaf of compulsion. If these people are to become responsible citizens they must have the cares and responsibilities of citizenhood thrust upon them. They must not be removed to surroundings where they cannot practice them. This is in no sense a plea for indulgence or softness towards criminals, actual or potential, nor a suggestion that “punishment” is a nasty word; but I hope I have shown that punishment can take more forms than one, and be constructive as well as destructive. To sum up, if it were possible to exercise more discrimination in the housing of criminals of different categories, the result would not only be a gain in humanity but also a saving to the public purse. It may be, too, that the time has arrived when a review of certain kinds of sentences is opportune. And in the field of reform and rehabilitation it is suggested that greater effectiveness in re-education and regeneration could be combined with an easing of the taxpayer’s burden. If an enlightened penal policy can be effective as well as thrifty, why not? After all, New Zealand once led the world in social reform. There is no reason why it could not do it in this field too.