Criminality and economic conditions

by Willem Adriaan Bonger

The imperfection of the present mode of combating crime is shown even by the evidence of the statistics we have given. It would be hard to imagine a more complete fiasco; in place of a decrease there has been an increase of recidivism; in place of making men better, the prison makes them worse.

Here is in brief the explanation of the fact. As we have already observed above in treating of the definition of crime, one of the important elements in the present system of punishment consists, for many people, in the desire to satisfy their revengeful feelings excited by the crime. Those who realize that the punishment must be especially aimed at the improvement of the criminal form only a small minority. The present forms of punishment and the manner in which they are inflicted are little if at all in accord with this latter point of view. At present the penalty is not much more than an evil inflicted upon the criminal to satisfy the vengeance of a great part of mankind, and at the same time to make it impossible for the criminal to do harm, either for a time or else forever, and finally to terrify him and other men into not committing crimes. So long as punishment has this characteristic, so long as it does not aim at the improvement of the criminal, so long will it fail to effect a decrease in crime, but will rather bring an increase, as the facts prove. No one, not even the most dangerous criminal is morally improved in the slightest degree by vengeance wreaked upon him. Vengeance engenders only vengeance and no other feeling. We can expect to see good results [[526]]from punishment only if the criminal, from the manner in which he is treated, perceives that those who have him in charge wish him well, are trying to improve him, and that his act was wicked and intolerable.

There are two types of imprisonment; imprisonment in common, and in separate cells. It is very easy to understand that a term of imprisonment served in common has disastrous consequences for the prisoner. It is because of this system that the prison has had the name of a school of crime, which would be a good joke if the facts were less serious. All kinds of criminals, young and old, those sentenced for minor offenses,[315] and those guilty of grave crimes, criminals against property and criminals against persons, all find themselves massed together, so that instead of leaving prison bettered, almost every one leaves it worse than he went in. No work is done, or at least only stupefying labors; a real trade is neither practiced nor learned.[316]

The disadvantages of this system have led to the cellular plan by which the contagious influences of the prison are gotten rid of. Much was hoped for from the change, but the statistics of recidivism show the hope to have been ill-founded; separate confinement improves the prisoner no more than the older type. This fact is not difficult to explain. Starting from the false theory that man has a free will, the non-determinists have believed, and unhappily still believe, that the criminal left to himself and to his own reflections will repent. As Sacker in “Der Rückfall” judiciously remarks, the criminal must not be left to his thoughts—if he has any—but must be given new ideas. It is unnecessary to remark that it is not life in a cell that will give them to him.

Man is a social being; without life among his fellows he is like an animal out of its element. How can he become better if he lives alone. The cell stupefies him, isolation and monotony make him a machine, which later will not be fit for a free life. I do not know a better description of the consequences of separate confinement than that given by the competent author of “Pictures and Problems from [[527]]London Police Courts”, Th. Holmes. He says: “How is it that a man’s facial expression changes during a long detention? How is it that his voice becomes hard and unnatural? How is it that his eyes become shifty, cunning, and wild? It is no fault of the prison officials; they cannot help these things; from the governor downward they are not to blame. It is not because of hard work. From conversation with, and knowledge of, such men, I gather that some of them at any rate would be thankful for more work. It is the system that does it, the long-continued, soul-and-mind-destroying monotony, the long, silent nights in which for hours men lie awake thinking, thinking, thinking, driven in upon themselves and to be their own selves’ only companion. No interchange of ideas is possible, no sound of human voices comes to call forth their own, and their own vocal organs rust. Nor does returning day bring change, nothing but the same duties, performed in the same way, at the same hour, and the same food, in the same quantities, served in the same demoralizing way. They become strangers to the usages of civilized society, and devour their food even as the beasts, but not with the wild beast’s relish. To the use of knife and fork they become strangers; to a knowledge of their own lineaments they become strangers; to high thoughts, amiable words, courtesy, love of truth, and all that makes a man they become strangers, for these virtues cannot dwell with senseless monotony. But if these things die of atrophy, other but less desirable qualities are developed. A low cunning takes their place; the wits are sharpened to deceive or to gain small ends; hypocrisy is developed, and men come out of prison hating it, loathing it, but less fitted to perform the duties of life than when they entered it.”[317]

Read further the opinion of Dostoievsky: “I am firmly convinced that the boasted cellular system pursues but a false, if specious, aim. It sucks the vital power out of a man, enervates his mind, weakens and cows him, and finally presents the desiccated mummy of a man made half mad, as a picture of reformation and repentance.”[318]

It would be possible to fill these pages with the well-supported opinions of those who regard the cellular system as “an aberration of the 19th century” (Ferri).[319] [[528]]

To sum up then, we come to the conclusion that the system of imprisonment is not in a condition to arrest the tide of criminality, but further that it is even one of the causes of the increase of crime, since it makes the prisoners still worse. It may be that in consequence of what I have just said the reader will remark that there is no other expedient possible than imprisonment, whether in common or cellular. Although the question of the treatment of the criminal as it ought to be is not one of those with which we are at present occupied, I shall nevertheless say a few words on the subject.

It is possible to practice a third system, which takes its origin from the idea that the crime does not proceed from the free will, but from causes which it will be necessary to try to remove, in place of inflicting a useless punishment. It is to the credit of the State of New York that it should be the first to put in practice this sort of a system of combating crime (in the Elmira Reformatory). An effort is made to make a man of the criminal, to turn him into a strong and sound individual; he is taught a trade, his mind is elevated, his feeling of honor revived, in short, everything is done that is necessary to stimulate the development of what is human in the man. And the results prove that those who are following this method are surely on the right road.[320]

There is only one objection to this system; that many persons who have not committed crime lead a life which in various ways is worse than that of the criminals so treated. However, this very sound objection does not condemn the system, but rather the present organization of society, which obliges a great number of persons to drag out a miserable existence. The question of crime and the social question are inseparable; he who examines the first without the second will not do much toward solving it.