Saturday, December 31, 2011

Hip Hip for the Doc!

After a full hour of mind-bending tedium in the woodwork shop, the GP has rescued me from the perils of sandpapering.
It seems that I'm such a physical wreck that manual labour and I should part company for the time being. Damn...
Note to future employers: Just don't expect me to lug stuff about or dig ditches. Apart from that, I'm your man. And reasonably priced as well!

Friday, December 30, 2011

Punitive Health Care

Outside of bad porn or dim basements in Essex, being punished by a nurse is an uncommon occurrence. Except in prison.
What penalties do you suffer if you fail to attend an appointment with your GP? If you really take the Mickey, being struck off his list; but for missing the odd surgery? Perhaps some verbals from the practice manager, a sternly worded letter or two?
The NHS - repeat, NHS - staff who work in prisons have a more potent arsenal to draw upon, the privilege system. For failing to attend an appointment they can issue a formal warning under the Incentives and Earned Privileges Scheme (IEPS).
These warnings affect our level of privileges. How much money we can spend to phone our families. How often we can receive a visit. And, at open prison, when or whether we can work in the community or have home leaves.
Even if we put aside the legality of NHS staff using the prison's mechanisms of control, the question of its ethics is something I'd really like to see justified.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

How Your Value is Judged

In your world the question, "What do you do?" is heavily loaded with socioeconomic meaning. You know that the way you earn a living can be used to judge everything from your intellect to your ethics.
This isn't the case in prison. Our employment is not viewed as a central part of our identity. We may ask each other "Where do you work?", but the response is only a small part in the jigsaw that comprises who we are and far less important in the judgement of identity than sentence or time served.
This may be a function of how prison work is allocated. The blind hand of the market plays no part - the needs of the institution and management imperatives are all important. The needs of prisoners are largely irrelevant, even though this failure to train useful skills may have very real consequences in terms of reoffending.
On a very personal level I can't help wondering about the bureaucratic mind which saw fit to allocate me to a workshop in order to sandpaper prison furniture. Having already spent several months scrubbing floors I wondered if there would ever be a point at which my keepers would consider that I may just may have abilities which could be used to make a more positive and significant contribution to prison life?
Or is this situation a reflection of management attitudes - prisoners are stupid and useless? Perhaps it is over optimistic of me to think that, in the last few months of my sentence, staff may think, "hey, he's on his way out, lets see just what he is capable of?"

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Improbable Correlations

As the height of the prison perimeter fence decreases, the height of the toilet doors increase. True.
Both reflect the malign imaginations of our keepers. And so, at Open, there is no security fence, it is a redundant feature. Similarly, in Closed prisons the toilet doors are half-height, leaving you staring passers by in the eye as you sit about your business. Obviously, Devious Things would occur behind full sized doors. Obviously...
In Open, though, we are trusted to go about our toilet behind the privacy of a full sized door. 
Live and learn!

Tuesday, December 27, 2011


Why oh why does every other notice from management have to end with blood curdling threats of sanctions?

We get it.  Bad boys are slung out, OK?!

Monday, December 26, 2011

Cast Adrift

One of the pains of imprisonment is the dependancy that the prison service insists upon. We have to rely upon staff for everything from supplying toilet paper to organising release. The full range of human activity is constrained, denied to the prisoner except through the agency of staff.

Until you reach open prison.  Sudbury has a 'do it yourself" attitude, leaving us to fend for ourselves.  This is a shock to some, an irritant for others and liberation for many.

It has its drawbacks.  Prison is prison, open or not, and there are crucial moments when we must engage with the "Administration".  This is not easy when they are nowhere to be found!

Autonomy is also at it best when it rests on sound and plentiful information. The basics, such as where to find our food through to the momentous such as when do I begin my home leaves. This places a burden on staff which is inimical to the attitude of benign neglect that of necessity shakes us out of our previous state of dependancy.

Whether the precise balance has been found here is something I'm yet as unsure of, but as I bomb about the place trying to get my life organised feel sure I'll soon find out.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Merry Christmas

In a segregation unit far away in time and distance, the night patrol was stomping up and down the corridor in his boots, keeping the prisoners awake. This was rude in the extreme; night staff usually wear appropriately silent footwear lest they disturb their charges.

This particular fellow was being ignorant in the extreme, and was subjected to volleys of abuse, all of it unrepeatable for the civilised eye that graces this page.

Until, deep into yet another night disturbed by his footfalls, a prisoner's voice sang out from behind his door.

"Guv", he shouted, "when's Christmas?"

The screw, quick as a flash, replied "the 25th".

The impatient convict replied "No, I mean, what day does it fall on?"

The screw reached for one of the three items of equipment no screw is ever without, his diary, and began leafing through.  Much ruffling of pages later, he shouted back to the con "on a Saturday".

"Thanks, said the con. We'll make sure we buy you a present then - some FUCKING SLIPPERS"!

The Plan

Oh yes, there is A Plan! This comes in the form of a timetable of activities which must take place for the Parole Board
to release me in May next year.
It used to be that Open prisons worked to their own internal rhythm, parole board be damned, and so I expected to be stuck here for a year before release. Sudbury, bless it, has grasped the reality of releasing Lifers and offers four timetables each determined by the timing of the Lifers next parole hearing. As mine is May, 6 short months away, then my countdown to release is as follows:
In the first 2 weeks I should have an escorted town visit. A month after arrival,  I have 2 unescorted town visits and begin unpaid, unsupervised work in the community. This is the real Beginning Of The End, my first forays into the world sans handcuffs in 31 years. Am I ready? Yep. Are you..???

At 3 months in,  3 town visits, work and... home leaves!

And at 4 months after arrival, I can begin paid work.
By May next year I should be able to approach the Parole Board with a record of activity that demonstrates that I'm not a basket-case. They should then order my release.
This is all happening very, very fast.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Week 1 Part 4

My ambitions for the magazine seemed to chime with the Education Depts and I believe that they could appreciate how I saw developing the mag into a positive force and a small nexus of creativity within the prison - and as a channel with which to engage the outside community.
The words, "You're hired!" had only mjust faded when the phrase, "ah, but, ummm..." raised its all too familiar head. The job of editing the magazine is an "orderlies" position, and such jobs cannot be taken by men who have been in this prison for less than two weeks. Ability, necessity, enthusiasm, experience...all count for nothing in the face of "local policy". Neither does plain common sense.
And so at the end of my week of job hunting I fell into the clutches of the Labour Board. And they have ordained that the sum of talents and aspirations are best met by standing in the rear of the carpentry workshop, sandpapering bits of prison furniture.
I'm really, really, trying to stay positive...

Ed's Footnote: since writing this post Ben has actually started working on the prison magazine.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Week 1, Part 3

Open prisons have a fondness for work that borders on fetishism. With this in mind the wise use all their spare time during the induction week scuttling around the nick trying to find a job. If this fails then the dreaded Labour Board makes the decision.
Given my various ailments, coupled with the failure to shove me in front of the GP within 2 weeks, I was handicapped in this unseemly scrabble for employment. Provisionally graded "Labour 2" (lightish duties) I found my options seriously limited. Obviously all the better jobs were filled long ago.
Relying on my more natural abilities, I began applying for jobs more likely to use my potential. The Library, the advice centre, induction, and - thanks to a quiet tipoff - the Editorship of the prison magazine.
The only door that was graced with a welcome mat was that of the Education Department; a nice change from how Education has treated me in recent years. Keen to replace the Editor who was soon to leave, and being longtime readers of my output, they were very enthusiastic at my appearance...

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Week 1, Part 2

There are a range of ways in which to enter a prison, styles of adaptation, states of mind, which can profoundly effect
the way that time flows in that prison.
Although I was rather highjacked and dumped 3 hours away from my home area, given that my next Parole Board sits in a mere 5 months, I squashed every negative or arsey thought and determined to enter Sudbury with a positive outlook.
Through benign Fate, I've fallen in with a helpful and thoroughly decent bunch of people. They are full of advice, questions and - in one case - an endless supply of mischievous lies. In this respect, I've landed on my feet.
I also rolled into a double cell... The torments of this situation are vastly unappreciated by the uninitiated and it serves to ratchet up my baseline stress hugely. I am trying to write this to the accompanyment of Coronation Street and Emmerdale. Oh, the horrors! My cellmate wasn't even born when I came to prison.
Being ninth on the list for a single cell, this stress could gnaw away at me for some time.

Monday, December 19, 2011

Open Prison - The First Week Part 1

The uninitiated often assume, if unthinkingly, that a move to Open prison would include something of a culture shock.
After all, there are few locked doors, no barred windows, no security fence...oh, the freedom!
I must disappoint you. Liberty is the natural, default, state and it is confinement which provides the culture shock. And never forget that Open prison remains prison. The lack of bars and fences only serves to highlight the essence of modern incarceration - it is based upon bureaucracy and managerialism. These things remain, perhaps exist in an even stronger form, in Open prison.
Open prison is also mindbendingly bloody boring. Being unlocked all of the time forces us to live an extremely long day, far removed from the fragmented days in Closed prison where we psychologically adpat to bang-up via the medium of sleep or bad TV. With seemingly little to do in these long days, boredom quickly sets in.
As culture shock goes, the psychological effects of moving to Open are no greater than being moved between two Closed prisons. Each has differences and nuances, but the dimension of physical liberty is not hugely significant.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Lifer should mean Life.. .again

It never ceases to astound me just how many prisoners contain fascist urges, advocating law and order policies which might make Himmler wince.
Cornered by two such proto-fascists, I was berated ("nothing personal...") with the concept that "life should mean life" for murderers. Haven't I heard that dim-witted slogan a thousand times before? And addressed it in previous posts!
The problem with that idea is that the definition of murder is far, far broader than the common mind appreciates. No intent to kill is necessary. All that is required is an intent to cause serious harm, and death resulting. That intent can be inferred from the circumstances.
The legal conception of murder, then, encompasses old ladies who administer a lethal drug at their dying husbands request; through to the craziest of serial killers. And this is where the "life should mean life" chant begins to waver.
It turns out that, faced with these facts, what people actually mean is that Life should mean Life only for the murders that they themselves find particularly awful. And grannies bitten by the euthanasia bug are not included. Odd, that.
These glitches in the argument aside, I argue from a more heartfelt position. That no person is irredeemable. And that no amount of suffering inflicted on a murderer alters the endless fact that a person is dead.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Quote of the Day

Just to give you a sample of the wit that passes for conversation in prison, when we are sitting
around bored out of our skulls...
".. .I'm not gay. I'd never give a blowjob without wearing a condom..."

Thursday, December 15, 2011


Prison life is littered with small indicators of our status, particularly how far we are trusted - or not.
Does a screw step aside on the stairs to ensure that you aren't walking behind him? When he's talking to you, does he look over both your shoulder and his own? In these and other small ways our untrustworthy status is signalled, often to my frustration.
Open prison is the epitome of this. Some are festooned with CCTV cameras, even on the landings.  In others, the windows in the rooms don't open more than a few inches, assuming we'd be heading for the horizon if clambering out was made too easy. Not that a pane of glass hindered an escapologist but as a signal of trust, it sugg­ests that management focus more on "prison" than on "open".
Here, my window opens wide. So wide that I have to use caution not to fall out when I pull it shut. If we wanted to recreate the Greatest Hits of Colditz, circumnavigating a pane of glass wouldn't be on the list of perilous obstacles. I have a key to both my door and the one at the end of the landing. There is no perimeter fence of any significance - the one that does exist is said to be there to deter travellers from sneaking in and joining the dinner queue.
These are small things, but they signify acts of faith on the part of our keepers. Some, a tiny minority, break with that faith and they duly pay the price.
For me, these are significant signs that I am being invested with a measure of sense, that doesn't happen too often in prison.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Moving In

Reception is a low brick building that shows its age - over 60. I don't think that the local architectural society would object if I called the collection of buildings that comprise this prison 'eclectic'.
Old Receptions have a unique atmosphere, as if the walls ooze with the collective activity that they have long contained. New Receptions are sterile, the prison equivalent of MacDonald’s.
My property was searched, classified, listed, with distinct piles for that allowed and that forbidden. Overall the process was relatively painless - always a good start in a new nick.
Prisoners who smoke and those who do not are, as far as possible, not required to share cells. On arriving on the Induction wing this led to 2 non-smokers being swapped about to free up a cell just for me and my filthy habits. Each of them was in a cell by themselves and so both lost out badly in this activity. They end the night shar­ing a cell whereas I am in solitary splendour.
Rule 1 in entering a new prison - don't piss off your neighbours. Sorry, mate.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Moving on Up

Slung out of the Block for my last night at Erlestoke, I found myself on the newest wing. For a Cat-C prison it was weird, acres of steel and festooned with CCTV. Stranger still, the cells appeared to be taller than they were long, psychologically "heavy", like sleeping at the bottom of a freshly dug grave.
Twiddling my thumbs all morning waiting for my transfer, I became increasingly uneasy as the hours passed. Lunchtime came simultaneously with the wagon. Dragging my piles of books and papers I made my way between the wings to be met by a gaggle of staff waiting at the sweat box. Prison verbals were bandied between us.
My blood ran cold when I heard the escort mention in passing that we may arrive too late and so I may get dumped in another prison. The Cardiff episode lurched from my memory and I made it very clear that I'd raise hell if yet another move to Open was screwed up.
Being the only man on the wagon I was offered a choice of cubicle. The sweat-box was a new design that lacked a communal radio to while the miles away, promising a dull 3 hour journey. The seat was a tormenting sheet of horizontal plastic that made no attempt to acknowledge human physiology. After 3 hours my back was in agony.
Pulling up outside of Reception I began the seemingly endless wait as my property was unloaded and my file cracked open. At last. The escort began to unlock my cubicle, paused, then asked himself why he was reaching for his handcuffs in an Open prison...?

Monday, December 12, 2011

Beware of the Snakes

During the induction talk the staff warned me about the dangers and prevalence of "black mamba".  Lethal snakes in Derby were not on my list of potential Cat-D pitfalls...

Inquiries revealed that Black Mamba is a legal high that substitutes for cannabis and is undetectable on urine testing. Its popularity speaks for its efficacy.

I'm not tempted.  But I will now be treading more cautiously in the long grass...

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Victims (yet again)

I don’t recall saying that I would avoid topics which may be uncomfortable, controversial or even offensive.  Putting the full weight of the State on a person and throwing them into prison is a profound act. It is to expel them from their community and to deliberately inflict suffering. Given the seriousness of this, then confining the debate to some comfortable island, to bow to sacred cows, or to merely bandy trite stereotypes around would be cowardly and pointless. As I have a voice, it would be pure ego to use it merely to flatter you or to polish my own image. As the only regular prison blogger in this country then I feel a responsibility to strip away the detritus that often passes for penological debate and attempt to deal with some of the difficult issues. This clearly makes some readers uncomfortable.

One of the most sensitive issues is that of the victims of crime. Those who have followed the blog from its early days will understand that I decline to be led by popular opinion on victims’ issues. At the same time, I refuse to poke at victims’ issues merely to provoke outrage. There are genuine issues to debate and I will on occasion raise them.
This may seem to be indecent and I'm not insensitive to that. People whose lives have been wrecked by crime should receive support and the utmost consideration as indiv­iduals. Human suffering should provoke our empathy.
As a collective, some victims have grouped to form a political lobby whose effects are visible throughout the criminal justice system. Individual victims may - from plain decency - be left in peace but political lobby groups are legitimate targets for debate or criticism. The alternative is to abandon policy-making to the hands of a particular group, whose agenda may not be for the good of the wider society.
Such criticism may seem unseemly. That is the price of debate. That such subjects are being analysed by a murderer seems to be plain crass or foolish, as one commenter alleges. That may be so.
As a member of a society whose criminal justice system is being warped by victims lobbying, I maintain that I have every right to join the debate. Justice should, after all, belong to all of us. As a prisoner whose daily living conditions and progress to release are affected by victims lobbying efforts, I insist that I have a perfect right to be heard. And as a man who lost his sister to a violent crime I myself am a victim and on that basis I feel it should not be viewed as improper that I have a voice. Unless only "nice" victims are allowed to speak?
In some sense I may be uniquely placed to speak on such issues. As the singular prison blogger, and as both the perpetrator and victim of homicidal crime, I may offer a bridge that could span the chasms in these debates.  And if some readers find such debate uncomfortable I can only hope that they examine their beliefs.
An uncomfortable  debate  always holds the potential  to be  a  deeply productive  one  and this blog always  prefers  to  generate   light  rather  than  heat.

Friday, December 9, 2011

The Mysterious Mind of Management

A governor told me that he was looking to create a new orderly position, duties to include keeping the myriad notice boards up to date.

Negotiations were going well until he suggested the job title - "information orderly".

Was he trying to get me killed?!

Thursday, December 8, 2011

The Rules

Sprinkled amongst other posts across Christmas and the New Year will be a number of posts relating to the Prison Rules.

The Prison Rules 1999 are, to you, a few clicks away. It is their meaning, context and the way that they shape prison life which is absent from the prison service website -an information gap which begs to be addressed. I just can't resist it.

Although the Rules are dated 1999 in nearly their entirety they are a rehash of the Rules of 1964...which in themselves were a rehash of the Rules from the end of the 18th century. You will get a flavour of this historical continuity when you realise that the Rules relating to the death penalty were only expunged in 1999 - a full generation after execution was abolished In the UK. Bread and water existed as a disciplinary punishment into the 1980's.

Obviously I wouldn't indulge myself or abuse you with a mere retelling of the Rules. It is their hidden meaning which justifies my writing about them... And if I include the odd tale of my brushes with these Rules, well, the Festive Season is approaching and levity begins to creep in. And to stave off any who may be tempted to bleat about the influence of Human Rights legislation on the Rules, it is worth noting the provisions of Rule 34:

"...a prisoner shall not be permitted to communicate with any person outside the prison, or such person with him, except with the leave of the Secretary of State or as a privilege..."

That's my excuse for failing to deal with my unanswered correspondence - and I'm sticking to it!

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Bureaucracy v Reality

Is it not the hallmark of the true bureaucrat that, unless the proper procedure is followed and the correct paperwork completed, then he is able to deny the reality standing before him?
A prisoner in the block was on hunger strike. He simply refused to attend the hotplate where I daily offered the best in prison service catering...After missing three consec­utive meals this is logged by staff as an official "food refusal". Paperwork begins to be generated, procedures swing into action.
One member of staff took the view that he wouldn't log this as a food refusal because by his reckoning the prisoner was not following the "proper procedure". That the man would be just as dead in several weeks was neither here nor there, proper procedures MUST be followed. In their absence, the reality of starvation could be denied.
Is this not a sign of a lack of humanity? An indication that bureaucracy can become a reality in its own right and one that denies something in the human spirit?
And should such a corroded, misguided soul ever be given authority over the welfare of other human beings?

Tuesday, December 6, 2011


Just to state the bleeding obvious, prisons are not pubs. There are severe restrictions on where we can now smoke in prison; essentially nowhere except in the open air and in the sanctity of our cells. The analogy is that our cell is our home.
Those who suspect that the under-occupation of the Isle of Man prison is related to it being a wholly non-smoking institution, and therefore unwelcoming to the criminal classes, are fixating on an overly simplistic idea. All prisons for young prisoners (under 18) are non smoking and their places are wildly over-subscribed. There is no correlation between prison conditions and crime rates, for the reason that no criminal believes he will be caught before setting out to commit his wicked deeds.

Monday, December 5, 2011


The wages prisoners receive for our labours are pathetically meagre and yet must bear the weight of many demands. One of these is maintaining contact with the outside world through letters and phone calls.
This situation prompts us to save pennies wherever we can and one way is to steam off stamp? from mail received and to re-use them. This is a fraud on our inept pos­tal system that I have no great justification for save necessity.
The prison service, intent on maintaining our poverty, sinks so low as to actually scribble with a biro across stamps on incoming nail, preventing this recycling.
Is this the most menial job being done by a public servant known to Man???

Sunday, December 4, 2011

The Coffee Jar

Some while ago we were prohibited from buying any goods which arrived in a glass jar.
Coffee was the most obvious casualty.
This policy - enforced across every prison - was a knee jerk reaction to events in a Block up north. It was alleged that a prisoner attempted to murder three screws by way of a broken bottle of sauce. History does not recall whether it was tomato or brown.
The prisoner has now been acquitted. Pity he can't celebrate with a nice cup of Nescafe...!

Friday, December 2, 2011

The Orwell Prize

Having fallen last year as my writing attempted to leap the gap between the longlist and the shortlist, I hesitate slightly to put myself forward again.

The past year has been a difficult one, where my writing has been frequently disrupted. Throw in the loss of my word-processor and a blown central fuse and I do wonder if I have produced ten posts which are worthy of submission. Sans internet access, I also haven't a clue as to what I've written and cannot look it up. A strange situation.

The Editor will obviously have a prominent role in organising this year’s submission, although she will have to read my whole year’s output. as I did last year, I also invite readers to pop over to read the Orwell criteria and highlight any of my posts which they think may be worthy of submission.

I'd like to say that if I won, then I'd take you all out for a drink...

And as look back over the past year, I must thank you for your patience. How, and what, I write is obviously a reflection of the state of my life and the vagaries of my mental state. Neither has been at its peak this year and that you hang about reading what even the Editor has characterised as being crap on occasion, I can only count my blessings that I have the only real comfort for any scribbler - an audience.

As I regain my mental footing and refuel the fires in my belly, I hope that I may repay your patience.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

A Novel Resettlement Scheme

The willingness of Britain's Upper legislative chamber, the House of Lords, to continue to employ members on their release from prison warms my heart.

If only other enterprises were so open minded...

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

What a washout

Senior management have removed the washing machine and drier from the Reception department. And why should you give a hoot?

Reception is where we are - surprise - received into the prison and it is our last stop before release. Reception also deals with our property, clothing, incoming parcels, and so on. Their dealings with our clothing are a significant part of their work in that they monitor the amount we have, what we can buy, and what we are all¬owed to have. At the end of our sentence they are also obliged, by law, to ensure that we are suitably equipped with clothing as we hit the street. Society is worried enough by ex-cons; releasing us naked would only increase that social angst.

Reception has a small mountain of clothing which has been donated by prisoners, for various reasons. Much of this is high quality merchandise. When a man reaches the end of his time he is offered a selection of these clothes to wear. Obviously these clothes need to be clean, hence their need for a washing machine.

In taking the machines away, Reception will now have to stop accepting donated clothing and instead will have to go out and buy new clothing to equip those being discharged. This will cost tens of thousands of quid.

This is why you should give a damn about the bizarre shenanigans of prison managers. The results of their decisions will shortly appear on your tax bill.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

A Question

Does anybody know of any research that focuses on the functioning and culture of  Segregation Units in the UK?

Or does my present job as an orderly give me a chance to add something new to the literature?

Monday, November 28, 2011

No blog today

Been to a funeral, normal service tomorrow!

Sunday, November 27, 2011

The Disappeared

Putting my feet up mid-morning I heard voices just outside my door, "...and look into the empty cells to see that staff aren't hiding anyone..." There was a small chuckle of disbelief.

Sticking my head out I discovered a gaggle of the Independent Monitoring Board.  The experienced member was explaining to two new members how he inspected the Block.

The IMB - an independent watchdog body - is often subjected to criticism but in this case the advice of the experienced member was sound.  I've been in blocks where prisoners have been so badly beaten that staff have tried to hide them in an "empty" cell, safe from the eyes of  visiting governors, chaplains and the IMB.

I explained this to the new member.  Strange things can happen in prison, after all.  It was also worth my pointing out that my presence was an indication that this Block was free of such abuses.  Only a fool would employ a cynical blogger as Block orderly if they weren't pretty sure I'd be bereft of negative material!

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Third Time Lucky?

From the Ed:

Ben was told yesterday that he is to be transferred to an open prison this coming Wednesday.

Let's hope he actually makes it this time...

Friday, November 25, 2011


The dull sound of a polycarbonate riot shield outside of your cell door is never a welcome one.  It’s invariably a portent of Bad Things.

All the more so when you have just refused to be transferred. The rattling shield is the signal that the refusal is not being taken as the final word. Such was the situation with one of the guys in this Block recently.

Watching as best I could through the gap around my door, I witnessed the initial charge into the cell. Known to us as a "planned cell extraction", it involves a 3 man team (in this case, led by a woman) that charge into the cell, the shield-bearer leading the way. Having wedged the prisoner with the shield the two flanking staff attempt to secure the con’s arms in Aikido joint-locks in what is tastefully known as "pain compliance". Once "compliant" the con is moved from A to B, in this instance B being another prison.
As with all plans, this one didn't go quite as predicted. Matey squirmed and wriggled his way around his cell floor for a good 40 minutes before being firmly grasped, a period of time so long that staff involved had to be relieved half way through. This "use of force" is always a messy affair and it is a welcome development that such events are attended by a screw with a video camera. We can only hope that this reduces the scope of staff getting carried away and crossing that fine line between a legitimate use of force and assault.

Matey was, finally, “bent up" and carted away. To his credit, he was cogently and calmly complaining all through the process, rather than screaming bloody murder. Interestingly, it is not the staff who regularly man the Block who conduct these operations; staff are brought from elsewhere in the prison. I assume that someone realised that occupants of the Block can hardly have any type of working relationship with staff who may have previously been twisting them up. A rare glimpse into the prison service's single neuron in action?

I myself prefer to walk onto the sweatbox for a transfer. If I’m not happy about it, it's the receiving prison which finds out...

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Hotel Catering

A wily con waved around a regulation stating that we should be provided with either 2 slices of bread or toast at breakfast.
Much staff debate followed. Now my first job of the day is to make toast for all. This didn't pass unnoticed by staff, the comment "are we running a hotel?" being most frequent.
As ever, this raises the question - what is the nature of punishment? And what should its details comprise?
Toast, or plain bread at breakfast?

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Compulsory Pampers?

Walking out of my door first thing in the morning, my only thought being the logistics of toast making, my brain was slightly confused when confronted by men dressed as aliens. Paper suits, gloves, goggles...Just what had happened to the world whilst I was asleep??
Then the rolls of Biohazard tape began to be deployed, sealing off a cell and its occupant. Ah, a dirty protest. For the uninitiated, a dirty protest is rather more than the avoidance of soap and water. A dirty protest is to smear one’s cell with excrement - and to keep living in it.
In days of old this form of protest was very disruptive to all involved and within olfactory range. This bureaucratic age, though, has seen the writing of a detailed policy for everything, including dirty protests. Out come the paper suits and striped tape, and life goes on as normal. The protestor is also charged with endangering Health and Safety.
Of all the many forms of protest available to prisoners, the dirty protest is one of the more extreme and one which I refuse to indulge in. Given the procedures developed to deal with dirty protests, their utility as a disruptive force has been much muted.

Living in a box smeared with crap is a desperate ploy but, thankfully, not the method of protect chosen by many.  

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

More Abuse

A very unhappy con shouted through his block cell door, "You fat cow!" The female screw was outraged, having lost a significant amount of weight.  "I'm not fat".  The con, retreating from an unsustainable accusation, paused for a moment.  "Well, you're not exactly skinny, are ya?!"

Monday, November 21, 2011

The Block

It struck me that what is, to my jaded eyes, mundane and familiar is unknown territory for most people outside. How do you imagine a punishment Block in your mind’s eye? Possibly something dark and damp, populated by unwashed, starving and hirsute desperados?

Whilst not denying the existence of such places -?- -most Blocks are housed at base­ment level - the one whose floor I sweep (in between breaks from writing...) is a more humble yet modern edifice. In a previous incarnation a resettlement unit, the 10 cells line a single short corridor. The 8 punishment cells on one side, the 2 orderlies, shower and storeroom on the other. Around the corner, occupied by the main office, are the 2 holding cells,  a "special cell", the servery,  adjudication room and managers office. The whole comprises a very small building.

On paper, the daily regime is sparse and structured around the mandatory events for all Blocks. During the day a governor, medic and chaplain will visit each cell and conduct a ritualistic exchange with each Prisoner. "Any problems...?"

The captive residents are unlocked, one at a time, to collect breakfast and make appl­ications just after 8am. Cereal, toast, flask of water, tea bags. This is the main exchange with staff during each day, the moment to chase up problems or raise issues. It is also the point at which each man can subscribe to "the regime" - to elect to have exercise, a shower or use the payphone. Often, these exchanges set the tone, the level of tension, for the rest of the day.

Once all have been fed, bang-up reigns. Those who have so chosen will, always singly, take their exercise etc. The statutory visitors - governor, medic, chaplain, will make their rounds. Except for these momentary interruptions, each man is left alone behind his door. By lunchtime this activity has petered out and from lunchtime through to the next breakfast prisoners are rarely disturbed from their lock-up save to collect their tea time meal. It can be appreciated that the Block is not a place of great activity. The locked cell door and absence of visible prisoners is the hallmark of all Blocks.

Any thought that this suggests a quiet, monastic existence should be held very tentatively...

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Taking the Temperature

In a quiet moment the member of staff pointed out that it had been a peaceful few days across the prison.  "That means either that there's absolutely no drugs about, or a lot of drugs about..."

Before the advent of heroin as a great force, it was a staff mantra that "a stoned prisoner is a happy prisoner".  The spliff may have been replaced by the needle, but not much ever changes.

Saturday, November 19, 2011


The creation of a nonsmoking prison on the Isle of Man has seen prisoners doing what we do best – using time and desperation to circumvent the restric­tions placed upon us. In this care, the desperate locals have resorted to boiling nicotine patches to extract the ingredients to sate their hunger for a decent hit of nicotine.
This enterprise pales into insignificance compared to a recent event here. A man managed to build a computer in his cell with illicit components.
Never underestimate a prisoner with a lot of spare time...

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Progress and the Human Spirit

Is it not a central purpose of political society to wrangle the monstrous atavistic emotions that batter our modern minds and to sift them, to channel and retrain them, to re-shape them into social forces that move us forward to a better civilisation?

From the perspective of lifelong resident in the bowels of the State, it appears that every human endeavour has given birth to the greatest heights of aspiration. Literature, art, science, philosophy, politics economics...there is no field, which, while encompassing the basest of our drives, has not moved humanity onwards to new perspectives, joys, opportunities. Society has benefited from every difficult step we have taken as a society from the primordial slime.

Amidst this social and human bounty there stands a rancid edifice. It is replicated in city centres across the nation and as individuals we pass beneath the walls with indifference. The edifice that is prison stands in almost deliberate opposition to all of the advances achieved by our society.

This is not to deny the existence of change. Prison itself as a form of punishment is a rather modern development, a concrete manifestation of a shift in the nature of punishment from inflicting bodily pain to inflicting mental suffering. Does this constitute an advance, progress? Does this change in the locus of pain stand as a beacon of social achievement?

No. Imprisonment is a failure on every level. In practical terms, it persistently fails to change the individuals who are fed through the gates and subjected to the process of mortification. On a social level, imprison­ment perpetuates crime through gross reoffending levels. And on a human level, inflicting suffering upon each other degrades us all.

Why has punishment, this wilfully self-defeating infliction of suffering, remain immune from the progress that is evident in every other field of human endeavour? Why do we cling to the ancient urges to hurt those who hurt us,even when there is no benefit? And why is this debased enterprise seemingly unable to be transformed by social or political processes so that it reflects the best of humanity rather than the worst?

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Time Travel

Producing the blog, at my end, has taken on hints of time travel.

For the first 18 months I resided in the 1970's, using a word-processor. For the past 6 months I revisited the scholastic Middle Ages - pen and paper.  Today, I have leapt forward to the late 19th century having finally taken possession of a manual typewriter.

I suspect that the average blogger doesn't have this experience!  And this ever shifting technology base has a real effect on my output. Writing by hand meant that the editor had to decipher and type my posts, a dedication that I could only repay by avoiding long posts.

The typewriter will be a great help but I have to wonder if the prison service will ever allow me to use contemporary technology?

Ed's note:this is a great relief as his writing is terrible!  I can now scan what he sends me into Word. A big thank you to the kind blog reader who donated the typewriter. 

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Shared Beliefs

My broad view of prison managers is long established.  It was a pleasure, then, to bump into a screw who shared my views.

As he put it, "I'd be a governor but I'd have to walk around with fingers in my ears to stop my brain running out..."

What a Shambles

That most toxic of combinations - media outrage and Government populism - has seen the lifer population leap from 3600 to over 10000.
Given the short-term impulses that led to this situation, the long term consequences were carefully neglected. And this is now biting me in the ass like a starving snapper-turtle.
Given that, at last, the forces that control my life appear to be content that I attain release, a swift move to open prison and a kindly Parole Board next year should have seen me off into the sunset. Alas, the open estate is choked.
With over 10,000 Lifers - easily sentenced, less swiftly released -then the demand for places in Open were inevitably going to be excessive. Our political masters failed to plan for this. The result is that I am stuck: in a queue of over 300 Lifers all competing for a move to open conditions.
The history of the Life sentence, its justification and criminological basis, is lengthy and convoluted. But never before has it come to pass that we can be told that we must remain in prison solely because the narrow path to release is oversubscribed.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Prison Essentials

There are certain core features of what comprises a prison.  Physical security is one of those features.

So, having a man break out of his cell and spend 3 hours in the dark repeatedly attempting to scale the fence unmolested must be a tad embarrassing...?!

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Back to the Future

There are times when penology seems to be a perpetual circle, forever revisiting previous ideas, practices or ideologies.

Nearly a century after the crime was viewed as a "disease" - the medical model - that idea was resurrected with a twist in the mid 1990's.  Psychologists infested prisons, tasked with attempting to cure us of our criminogenic ways of thinking. Fifteen years later and hundreds of millions of £'s spent and the utility of this effort is still debated.

There was one immediate effect, though.  The provision of trade courses - bricklaying, painting, etc collapsed.  Across the whole prison system, the rehabilitative eggs were placed solely in the psychologist's basket and other avenues to shift us away from crime were neglected.

However, a conversation with the Governor today revealed that he is reinstating trade training at this prison.  It is rare for me to be able to report a positive development, but this is one.

If a prisoner wished to attempt to create a life away from crime, no psychological course or basic skills certificate is going to help.  And in a society where employing an ex-con is bottom of everyone's list of priorities, providing prisoners with the skills to enable them to earn a living for and by themselves is a good thing.

Quite where the Gov found the investment to resurrect these training courses is a mystery to me. Prisons are as poverty stricken as the rest of the nation.  To return to old practices is a bold move in these circumstances.

One final thought though.  It would be a perfect adjunct to those trade courses if the participants were also offered a course on how to start a business.  In this way, cons are liberated from anti-prisoner attitudes in their future employment.  Their future will be in their own hands - and that is real freedom.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Endless Struggle

The official criteria for priority to move to Open Prison is whether one is over tariff, and how long one has been waiting for the move.

As I'm 21 years over tariff and have now been waiting a full year for the transfer, I'd like to think that I've been put near the top of the list.


Thursday, November 10, 2011

A Miracle!

How is it that all murder victims are apparently incredibly wonderful human beings?

I find it a tad odd, a statistical anomaly, that no assholes ever seem to get murdered.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Non-Punishment Block

Oddly, it is not unusual that no-one held in this Block is actually serving a term of punishment.

There are several routes to end up down here, and the least common is to be punished.  Overwhelmingly, people filling up the cells are either hiding on Rule 45 - own protection -  or have been isolated for reasons of Good Order and Discipline.  That is, it is believed they are up to something but the evidence isn't sufficient for a formal charge.

Despite this, the Block runs what is officially termed a "restricted regime".  Everyone lives in bare cells, denied their privileges and locked up for over 23 hours a day.

The sign outside may now read "Care and Separation Unit", but the reality is that this is not intended to be a refugee unit or interrogation centre.  It reflects a very fuzzy thinking on the part of the prison service as to how to deal with the varied needs of people and a failure to even contemplate the nature of punishment itself.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

States of Denial

There is a group of prisoners who labour under the weight of a special acronym - IDOM.  This is bureaucrat jargon for those Lifers who protest their innocence.  IDOM means "In Denial of Murder", and it is a ticket to a difficult and lengthy sentence.

Denial works both ways, and the criminal justice system has a long and disreputable history in this regard.

Consider the numbers; some 85,000 people in prison.  If the criminal justice system has achieved the improbable level of being 95% perfect that would mean there are over 4,000 innocent people in prison.

Just who is in denial here?

Monday, November 7, 2011

Self Loathing

You could reasonably assume that murderers are broadly against capital punishment.  And you'd be right.

But on occasion I bump into a fellow Lifer whose views are worse than a Daily Mail editorial.  These people give a glimpse into that taboo area - the suffering that murderers endure because of the crime they committed.  Such emotional twists and turns are hardly welcomed in the public discourse which prefers to portray us as monochrome monsters.  Sadly, it is also an area that prison staff, such as psychologists, run away from in horror.

These emotional convolutions can express themselves in incredible depths of self-loathing, to the degree that some Lifers support a return to executions.

Whilst I empathise with their distress, I'd prefer they pick an avenue to pursue that doesn't involve those of us who prefer to remain alive!

Saturday, November 5, 2011


Courtesy of the canteen facilities in the visits room, I have discovered the joys of "cheesy chips".  You guessed it - fries sprinkled with grated cheese!

What else have I been missing??

Friday, November 4, 2011

Barrack-Room Lawyers

Barrack-room Lawyers (BRL) must surely be distinguished from Jailhouse Lawyers (JHL) who comprise an honoured and dedicated collective.

For me, a BRL is often just a pain, an embarrassment.  It is a prisoner who is forever bleating that something or other is "agaisnt human rights".  But, in constrast to the JHL, the BRL is a prisoner who has rarely even read the ECHR and whose only use for The Times Law Reports is as material for an emergency cigarette paper.

The BRL may have a dim but certain realisation that "rights" do exist, and he shares with the JHL the knowledge that the law does not stop at the prison gates.  But that is the extent of the common ground.  The BRL does, if anything, make the life of JHL more difficult on the prison landings.  By being unable to add legal substance to his vague assertions, the BRL diminishes the weight of the rules, the law, in the eyes of prison staff.

Prison regulations and the legal context within which they sit are complex and ever-shifting.  They are not shallow waters in which to paddle on a whim, rather they are a deep pool into which the earnest prisoner must immerse himself.

The Law can be a keen-edged weapon.  Misuse it, deploy it ineptly, and you dull its edge to the detriment of the next prisoner who wields it.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Death of the IPP

The last Government's poisonous legacy to penology, the Indeterminate Sentence for Public Protection, is finally to be buried.

Alas, the thousands of people in prison because of it can't jump for joy yet.  The Government still lacks the decency to resurrect those suffering this stupid and wicked sentence back into freedom.

This is only half a job done.  The fight to truly expunge this disastrous sentence and its effects must continue.

Rumours of Rumours

One of the odd and unsettling aspects of the local culture is the seemingly infinite willingness of a lot of prisoners to spread gossip and repeat private conversations.  In such a captive, introverted community such indiscretion can be a recipe for trouble.

I find this strange.  As a political and legal activist I am used to having conversations that remain private.  Finding myself in a situation where everything that's said is repeated out on the landing is disturbing.

Even so, I shall try to maintain my practice based on Chatham House rules - whatever is said in my cell should damn well stay there.

Monday, October 31, 2011

The Great Game

Every block in the system shares fundamental characteristics.  Each prisoner alone in their cell for up to 23 hours a day, isolated and finding ways to fill the time.

Another common thread is the perpetual attempt to pass items between cells, a prohibited practice.  Monthly, these efforts centre around tobacco and cigarette papers.

Even in isolation, cons leave their cells.  There are daily periods in the exercise pen, the shower, food to collect, clothes to change... And all of these provide an opportunity for the quick of hand to secrete an item to be picked up by the next man.

Staff try to disrupt this exchange but the reality is that the never have enough time.  With maybe dozens of men to exercise, feed, shower, then their time to search each location between uses is truncated.

This smuggling has always gone on, and long may it successfully continue.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

The Mad Rumour

Prison life seems particularly well suited to the generation and perpetuation of rumours.

After all, we have 2 groups - screws and cons - more than willing to believe the worst about each other, and both share a certain base cynicism of the whole edifice.

As I served lunch today I was reminded of the long-standing rumour that the staff in some notorious block who, having beaten a prisoner to death, tried to muddy the time of death by stuffing the body into the wing server hotplate to keep it warm.

I have to admit, it wouldn't surprise me.

Saturday, October 29, 2011


While sweeping out the 2 cells used for holding people just before they face disciplinary hearings, I take a brief look at the graffiti on the walls.

The dreary "X was here" litters the paint, a boring testament to a man's existence.  The occasional insult creeps in: "fuckin carrot-munching southerners"!. On this showing, I have to wonder if the government's literacy drive is wasted money.

And yet, in perfect script, stands out the surreal injunction, "Polly put the kettle on".