Adam Hochschild is an award-winning journalist and author
who has collected (and updated) a number of his articles into the book Lessons from a Dark Time and Other Essays. These essays provide numerous interesting insights
and perspectives on historical and current events. Here we will discuss an article titled Prison Madness in which he presents a
brief summary of the state of incarceration in the United States and provides a
startling comparison of what it is like to be an imprisoned criminal in our
country and in Finland. A more detailed
discussion of U.S. issues related to incarceration can be found in John F.
Pfaff’s book Locked In: The True Causes of Mass Incarceration-and How to Achieve Real Reform. Pfaff’s work was reviewed in Understanding Mass Incarceration in the United States.
Hochschild provides this perspective on our incarceration
practices.
“With a twentieth of the world’s
population, the United States has a quarter of its prisoners…If all Americans
behind bars constituted a state, its population would be greater than that of
fifteen other states, big enough to be entitled to three seats in the House of
Representatives.”
What is particularly strange is that as crime levels
began to fall, peaking in the early 1990s, the rate of imprisonment continued
to rise. There seems to be no clear consensus
on why crime has continued to fall, but it is clear that the rate of incarceration
rose until just a few years ago when the whole system became unaffordable.
The standard explanation for such huge prison populations
involves the notions that the war on drugs and the biased application of drug
laws towards blacks has swelled the prison population with nonviolent offenders
guilty of minor crimes. The statistics
suggest otherwise. More lenient drug
penalties and race-neutral application of them would not produce a great
change. And notably, about half the
prisoners today were involved in crimes of violence. The explanation lies elsewhere.
Criminal prosecutions for crimes have always been
discretionary. Roughly 10% of the
population is thought to be using illegal drugs. This number is nearly race independent. That means over 30 million people should or
could be in prison on drug charges alone.
That will not happen because law enforcement decides who they will
target for criminal investigations and prosecutors decide who they will try to
send to jail. Most crimes are committed and
prosecuted at a local level. Discretion
in enforcement is driven by local attitudes—and those attitudes vary
widely. Lower crime rate rural areas
tend to have much higher incarceration rates than higher crime urban
areas. Pfaff suggested that we really
have 3,144 legal systems, one for each county in the nation.
The real seat of power (and discretion) resides in
prosecutors. They have many tools at
their disposal to threaten the accused with dire consequences if they do not
plead guilty, and since they tend to be elected officials they are essentially
forced to a “tough on crime” stance if they wish to be reelected. Popular election of judges supports similar tendencies. It is not quite clear why, but the number of
prosecutors has been rising while the crime rate has been falling. Pfaff provides these figures.
“….the number of line prosecutors
(those who actually try cases) has grown significantly over the past forty
years, but in a somewhat peculiar way….Between 1970 and 1990, violent crime
rates rose by 100 percent, property crime rates by 40 percent, and the number
of line prosecutors by 17 percent. From
1990 to 2007, violent and property crime rates both fell by 35 percent, but the
number of line prosecutors rose by 50 percent—a faster rate of growth than
during the crime boom.”
Hochschild refers to a political scientist, Marie
Gottschalk, author of Caught: The Prison State and the Lockdown of
American Politics. She suggests that
mass incarceration will not be brought down to more reasonable—and affordable—levels
until people realize that imprisonment is not a solution to crime. It solves nothing, is ineffective as a deterrent,
and does not prevent prisoners from committing crimes again. Some other form of treatment is
required. In addition, sentencing decisions
must yield shorter prison terms.
“It used to be that a life sentence
meant that a well-behaved American inmate was likely to be released after ten
to fifteen years—a recognition that merely growing older has far more influence
than length of time served on the likelihood that someone might commit another
crime. But U.S. prisons are now full of
people serving several consecutive life sentences or life without parole—a
punishment that virtually did not exist a half century ago and is almost
unknown in the rest of the world.”
So, the U.S. has a big, unique problem. Hochschild points out, hopefully, that
perhaps there is an example to be followed in Finland where the rate of
incarceration was once higher than in the U.S. but the legal system was
reformed and settled in at a much lower rate.
“In 1950, with a prison system
and criminal code that had changed little from their origins under the Russia
of the tsars, Finland had a higher incarceration rate than we had in the United
States. In Finland 187 people out of
every 100,000 were behind bars, as against only 175 here. A long series of reforms—not without their hard-line
opponents—brought the Finnish rate of incarceration far down, just as our own
soared. Today we have 710 people per
100,000 in prison in the United States, compared to 58 in Finland.”
“’One important idea that
emerged’, writes two scholars of Finland’s changes, ‘was that prison cures
nobody. As a result policies were
enacted that prison sentences should rarely be used in smaller crimes and other
penalty systems should be developed instead’.”
Hochschild was moved to produce his essay after visiting a
few Finnish prisons. It was important to
compare the treatment of inmates there with that encountered in our prisons. From the outside Finnish prisons look as one
would expect with “barbed-wire fences, bars on some windows and plenty of
locked doors. He would be provided a
tour by its governor (or governess, not warden), a former prosecutor named
Kirsti Nieminen. Her facility housed
about 150 men, with features Hochschild found surprising.
“In the greenhouses the inmates
raised flowers, which were sold to the public, as were the organic vegetables
they grew. As we walked around the
prison grounds, Nieminen pointed out a stream where prisoners could fish, a
soccer field, a basketball court, a grain mill, and something she was
particularly proud of, a barn full of rabbits and lambs. ‘The responsibility to take care of a
creature—it’s very therapeutic,’ she said.
‘They are always kind to you. It’s
easier to talk to them’.”
A meeting with several inmates was arranged for
Hochschild. Their crimes were about what
one might expect in a U.S. prison. A few
involved violence, including armed robbery, most of the others involved
drugs. Nieminen and another female official
provided translation for the communication.
“No armed guards were in sight,
and both officials and convicts wore their own clothes, not uniforms.”
“Prisoners are assigned jobs,
but most spend much of their day in classes, on subjects including auto repair,
computers, welding, and first aid. A
library holds several thousand books—more than you would find in many American
high schools—and inmates can use the national interlibrary loan system to order
others. I sat in on a cooking class and
then shared a tasty lunch its students had prepared: Karelian stew, which
included beef, pork, potatoes, and cranberries.”
Hochschild refers to a book by a Missouri state senator,
Jeff Smith, who was convicted of breaking a campaign spending law and sentenced
to a year in prison. He wrote about his
experiences in Mr. Smith Goes to Prison:
What My Year Behind Bars Taught Me About America’s Prison Crisis.
“…he hoped that as a Ph.D. who
had taught at Washington University in St. Louis, he would be put to work
teaching. Instead…he was assigned to a
warehouse loading dock, where he observed and took part in the pilfering of
food by both inmates and guards. A month
from the end of his stay he was finally transferred to the education unit—and
assigned to sweeping out classrooms. A
computer skills class consisted of the chance to sit at a computer for thirty
minutes, with no instruction whatsoever; at a nutrition class, a guard ‘handed
out a brochure with information about the caloric content of food at McDonald’s,
Bojangles, and Wendy’s, and released us after five minutes’.”
The goal of the Finnish system is to return prisoners to
society as people capable of participating as functioning members.
“If you had half your sentence completed
and had permission, you could leave Kerava prison on weekends. Everything possible was done to ease that
transition. The diploma you get on
completing one of the classes I saw, for instance, is certified by an outside
organization; it doesn’t say you received your training in prison.”
“A host of offerings within the
walls addressed the problems that landed the men in trouble in the first
place. There were programs for anger
management and drug rehabilitation, as well as both individual and group
psychotherapy. Prisoners could take part
in a twelve-step program similar to Alcoholics Anonymous and a class in life
skills that met three times a week. And
in an idea copied from Sweden, the prison hosted a series of speakers: former
convicts who shared their experiences in readjusting to the world.”
The process of exiting prison is quite different in our
country from what is encountered in Finland
“A released prisoner in the United
States is frequently barred from voting, public housing, pensions, and
disability benefits, and is lucky if he receives anything more than bus fare
and, according to Jeff Smith, a routine farewell from a guard: ‘You’ll be back,
shitbird’.”
“At Kerava prison in Finland,
before an inmate is released, a social worker travels to his hometown to make
sure that he will have a job and a safe place to live.”