The Criminal & the Community

by James Devon

It is much easier for a man to carry out an instruction received from above, than to assert and act on the powers conferred on him by statute; but it is not right to do so, and in so far as he is subservient he is unfaithful to his trust. Patients cannot be treated by correspondence. No man, however highly placed, is infallible. Better that the man on the spot should accept his responsibilities frankly, even though he do make mistakes, than that he should look to someone who is not present to direct him in a case of difficulty. No medical man need want for help from his neighbours, and he can easily get someone of approved skill to assist him in the diagnosis or treatment of a difficult case. It is quite proper that his actions should be scrutinised, but it is quite wrong that the scrutiny should take place in private. The statute has recognised this principle, and has ordered that a public enquiry should take place on the occasion of the death of any prisoner in prison. The relatives of the prisoner are there entitled to put any questions to the officials, personally or through an agent; and the Sheriff has to be satisfied that all reasonable care and skill have been exercised in the case.

Private official enquiries give opportunity for petty persecution on the part of any Jack-in-office who fancies his abilities are equal to his position, and whose spleen may be raised against better men than himself. No man eminent in his profession would be likely to be guilty of such conduct, but the occupation of some positions does not necessarily imply professional eminence, though it may infer social influence.

The Medical Officer has not an arduous task in treating the sick. His work practically consists of patching up old offenders, in the knowledge that he is prolonging their lives and their uselessness, to the injury of the public. Many of them would have been dead long ago as the result of their excesses had they not been interfered with. It is well that their lives should be prolonged and their health improved, but only if some security is taken that they use their powers to better purpose in the future than they have done in the past. There is no sense in the State doing anything for anybody without a reasonable guarantee that the person benefited will not use the benefit to the injury of the community. Many are cured of diseases in various public institutions, and turned loose to live on others for the rest of their lives. There is an increasing number of young people who, having suffered from some serious illness, have been saved from death, but have been left permanently crippled to some extent in one or other of their organs. They are not fit for the work they once engaged in, but they are fit for some work, and so far as can be seen, they have no intention of performing any. A number of them drift to the prison and on the strength of their infirmity try to get special treatment. The special treatment they require cannot be had there, nor is there any place at present where it can be had.

The untried prisoner is permitted to wear his own clothing, provided it is clean and that he can have it changed with sufficient frequency. He may hire furniture and pay for the cleaning of his cell. He may have visits from those of his friends he desires to see; and he may correspond with them, provided that in the conversation and correspondence there is nothing said or written regarding the charge against him. All letters to and from him are read and censored on behalf of the Governor. Prisoners are not allowed to see and converse with their friends without the presence of a prison official. The prisoner is put in a box with a latticed front, and his visitor is placed in another box opposite. Between the two boxes there is space for a warder to move. He can see the occupants of both boxes, each of whom can only see the person in the box opposite. When a number of prisoners are having visitors at the same time, there is a shouting and gabbling that makes conversation difficult. Convicted prisoners and convicts of the first class may receive a letter and a visit from a friend once in three months, provided their conduct and industry have been satisfactory. Before their entry into the first class convicts may receive one, two, or three letters and visits in the year, according to the class they have reached. After being a year in the first class they may be placed in a special class, receiving a letter and a visit once in two months.

The prisoner sees his agent in view of but outwith the hearing of the warder. He may have his food sent in to him by his friends, provided it is sufficient in quality and amount, but he may not have part of a meal sent in. He may also receive newspapers, magazines, or books. Any or all of these privileges may be granted or withdrawn at the discretion of the Visiting Committee. It is questionable whether it is right that they should be granted as privileges. The man is, in the eyes of the law, presumed to be innocent of the offence charged against him; and his detention is only justifiable on the ground that he might fail to appear at court for trial. That being so, he ought not to require permission from any committee or official before he is allowed to feed, clothe, and amuse himself; and he should only be prevented from doing so if his act is detrimental to his own health or that of the other inmates of the prison. This might cause more trouble to the officials concerned, but the primary object of the system ought not to be the saving them trouble.

The untried prisoner may have a pint of wine or a pint of beer daily, but on no account is he permitted to smoke. This is a curious restriction nowadays, and there is not the faintest show of reason for its exercise. The proper attitude towards the untried prisoner is not that implied in the question “Why should he be allowed to do this?” The question ought always to be “Why should he not be allowed to do what he wishes?” and this would be the question if the theory that presumes an untried prisoner’s innocence were put in practice. He is detained for the convenience of the public, not for his own, and his liberty should be curtailed as little as possible consistent with good order.

There are very few civil prisoners in Scotland. Failure to pay aliment may entail on a prisoner imprisonment, at the instance and expense of his creditor, for a period of six weeks. At the end of that time the prisoner is free from similar proceedings for six months, but the costs are added to his original debt. He has some of the privileges of an untried prisoner. Failure to pay taxes may cause a man to be imprisoned under similar conditions. Persons sent to prison for failing to have their children vaccinated are treated by the same rule, and persons condemned to indefinite imprisonment for contempt of court.

In Scotland we claim that we do not imprison for debt other than aliment, rates, or taxes; but the rule is evaded by process of law, and the Prison Commissioners are used as debt collectors in some cases. Technically this is not so, but in practice it occurs. X 31, a woman, has obtained jewellery on the hire-purchase system. She is the wife of a labouring man, and there is room for the suspicion that she has been tempted by the seller. A number of payments are made, then the husband loses his employment, and she is not only cut off from the means of paying her instalments, but has not money to get food. She pawns or otherwise disposes of the jewellery, and is called upon either to pay for it or return it. Her intention may be to pay, but she is not able. She is summoned to appear at Court, and fails to do so. In her absence a decree is granted ordaining her to deliver the jewellery to the person from whom she obtained it, in terms of the contract made between them. Failing to do this, she is seized and carried off to prison, on a warrant obtained for Contempt of Court, inasmuch as she had not obeyed its decree. All her friends become alarmed, and by their united efforts the money to satisfy the creditor may be obtained. If this is not done she may be kept in prison for an indefinite period at his expense. Had she contracted a debt with the grocer for food, or with a dressmaker for clothing, they could not have imprisoned her if she did not pay them, even though they desired to do so. They are thus at a serious disadvantage, so far as the exercise of pressure is concerned, compared with the hire-purchase trader; but the ingenious among them who regret the abolition of imprisonment for debt may revive it in effect by selling groceries and clothes on a hire-purchase contract.

The routine treatment to which the convict is subjected is much more severe than that which is applied to the ordinary prisoner, and it does as little good.[3] It is a system of repression mainly; a sitting on the safety-valve that is apt to provoke outbursts of temper and violence resulting in assault. These may be punished with the lash. A power which is not possessed by the Judges of the High Court is granted to the Prison Commissioners. It is considered necessary in order to maintain the system, but as no one claims that the system is in any degree reformatory, it becomes a question whether it is worth maintaining.

The same man who is at one time a convicted prisoner in an ordinary prison may at another time be undergoing penal servitude. While he is in an ordinary prison there is neither power nor occasion to order him the severe punishments which may be inflicted on convicts. If he need the lash when he is sent to penal servitude, there is at least the presumption that the cause lies as much in the character of the life he is compelled to lead as in the character of the man. The more punishment inflicted on prisoners in a prison the stronger the probability is that the place is badly managed. Repression is necessary, no doubt, but repressive powers should only co-exist with power to reward. Even a donkey will go further after a carrot than when driven by a stick. It never does any good to a man to treat him as a machine, and the tendency to do so under the name of discipline is a root vice of the system. In the convict prison, as in the ordinary prison, during the last few years the grinding mechanical routine has been relaxed, and the amazing discovery has been made that it is easier and better to manage men if you recognise that they are men than to regard them as mere numbers. There has even been talk of reformation resulting from the changes that have taken place, and to judge by some magazine and newspaper articles from the pens of enthusiastic and ignorant visitors, one would think the prison had become a kind of paradise.