Ben Crewe and Jamie Bennett (eds),The Prisoner

Reviewed by: Antje Deckert, Auckland University of Technology, New Zealand

Inspired by the prison documentaries of Rex Bloomstein and grounded in the fledgling tradition of narrative criminology, the authors of this edited collection attempt to portray the individuality of human beings without objectifying and silencing the prisoners who have shared their life histories. The book covers a range of topics, including the experiences of young inmates, aging convicts, and female prisoners. Each chapter includes at least two different inmate narratives, which are followed by academic commentary. In their commentaries, authors focus on key themes before closing with recommendations for further readings. Editors Ben Crewe, Deputy Director of the Prisons Research Centre at the Institute of Criminology at the University of Cambridge, and Jamie Bennett, a prison governor and editor of the Prison Service Journal, have both published widely on various prison-related issues. They have recruited a number of academics and professionals, half of them female, from across the United Kingdom, which gives this collection a distinct regional focus and a refreshing feminist edge.

The first chapter, ‘Prisoner backgrounds and biographies’, by Jamie Bennett, commences with a six-page narrative of two young inmates from similar social backgrounds followed by a brief historical sketch of correctional policies in the post-war period. Bennett connects the two narratives with criminological theories that link offending to biology, poverty, emotional strain and family dynamics. He does so without reframing individual theories in depth, but Bennett succeeds in revealing the complex relationship between strain, individual responsibility, social bonding and the search for identity.

Sarah Tait demonstrates the unique value of narrative criminology in ‘Custody, care and prisoner–staff relationships’. The analysed narratives disclose that the most common prisoner needs are of an emotional nature and that correctional staff have the power to either mitigate or ignore them. Such feelings are often related to uncertainty, isolation and worthlessness. Tait describes in great detail the specific actions that prisoners associate with caring and non-caring staff. However, she notes that these accounts differ depending on inmates’ personal situations, perceptions and gender. Tait acknowledges the existing power imbalances in the staff/inmate relationship but emphasises positive narratives, which gives the chapter an uplifting spirit.

Seamlessly connecting to the previous chapter, Ben Crewe informs the reader about ‘Prison culture and the prisoner society’. Two inmate accounts expose correctional staff’s ‘power of the pen’ and how staff use it to deliberately influence inmate behaviours. Crewe’s commentary expands, amongst other issues, on the prison ‘hierarchy of status and stigma’, how drugs shape prison society, and how emotional expression remains unaffordable inside prison walls.

The chapter on ‘Identity and adaptation in prison’ by Yvonne Jewkes commences with narratives of four experienced prisoners that demonstrate the ‘frontstage and backstage identities’ inmates use to simultaneously mask and preserve their ‘true selves’. Most interestingly, all four prisoners seem consciously aware that they deliberately craft their own identities; that the power is within them to change their self-making narrative. In a variety of anecdotes, inmates contemplate adaptation processes, everyday prison life situations, ‘jailcraft’, diminished responsibilities, emotional restraint, alienation from the outside world, and dependencies. Although the four inmate narratives provide much material, the commentary that follows uses other inmate narratives to critically question these views.

Alison Liebling’s chapter, ‘Vulnerability, struggling and coping in prison’, deals mainly with the increased risk of suicide in prison. Accordingly, her two sample narratives are drawn from her well-known study of suicides and attempted suicides. Many of the inmate narratives concentrate on correctional officers’ behaviour and how such behaviour influences prisoners’ emotions, thoughts and actions. The chapter also confirms the findings that social bonding theory, social control theory and narrative criminology have previously uncovered in relation to desistance from crime. Social bonds also lie at the heart of Rachel Condry’s chapter, ‘Prisoners and their families’. The chapter identifies the significant knowledge gaps that still remain in this area even though, with the increase in the total prison population, the number of affected family members has multiplied. Condry demonstrates how important the individual narrative is in the process of self-making as inmates reveal two distinct storylines in regards to their family ties. Some inmates declare it impossible for relationships to survive the strains of imprisonment, and therefore choose to cut off all contact, especially when incarcerated for long periods. Other inmates perceive and narrate the same strains as strengthening for their social bonds, and confirm studies that have found a positive link between supportive families, rehabilitation and desistance from crime.

The next four chapters on ‘Children and young people in custody’ by Rod Morgan, ‘Ageing prisoners’ by Natalie Mann, ‘Women prisoners’ by Abigail Rowe and ‘Cultural diversity, ethnicity, and race relations in prison’ by Corena Phillips and Rod Earle follow in the footsteps of the previous ones. They explore the construction of the identity of ‘the prisoner’. These chapters demonstrate that the prisoner exists in so far as the inmate narratives accurately reflect the well-known statistics prevalent amongst prisoners. The reader is confronted time and again with histories of childhood abuse, drug addiction, poor mental health and unemployment prior to conviction. Simultaneously, these chapters illustrate that the prisoner does not exist; that the experience of imprisonment is not homogenous, and is lived differently by women, young people, aging prisoners and ethnic minorities. Young people are simultaneously worried and hopeful about the future. Female inmates have to deal with gender-specific issues of pregnancy and childbirth in prison. Aging prisoners’ main concern is their decaying bodily health and feelings of loneliness and isolation. In addition, most inmates are also confronted with tensions that are caused by a wide variety of ethnic identities and a government-enforced ‘race equality regime’.

With its final chapter on ‘Rehabilitation, generativity and mutual aid’ by Steve Barlow and Shadd Maruna, the book uses narrative criminology to return to the roots of the age-crime-curve and to questions of rehabilitation and desistance from crime.

Target audiences for this collection are not specified by the editors, however a wide range of professionals comes to mind, including academics and journalists. Prison officers and prison management staff who seek to improve policy or make a positive impact with their own behaviour, may find this book enlightening, especially if they are new to the correctional environment or have not actively engaged with inmates on a personal level. For higher level students this is a great addition to literature on prison and punishment theory. Incarcerated individuals and their families may find this book useful in coping with the prison experience, as the inmate narratives may substantiate aspects of their own lives and thus reduce feelings of isolation.

This book is preceded by other collaborative works between inmates and academics. However, most prison books that use inmate narrative as a feature, do so either in a purely descriptive fashion, that is, without applying existing knowledge to the accounts, or by employing only short excerpts of inmate narratives as illustrations. That being said, the book shows overlaps with previous publications, in particular in the chapters on prison culture and care in custody. However, such intersections are inevitable in such an edited collection because the importance of the quantity and quality of interactions between inmates and correctional staff has been noted by many academic researchers. This edited collection distinguishes itself by directly applying theory to extensive inmate narratives. Approximately half of the book’s content is unaltered narrative. The book does not perpetuate myths, nor does it glamorise. It addresses the harms of incarceration, the marginalising effect of imprisonment, and the ‘stultifying mundanity’ of daily life behind bars. Although a good understanding of criminological theory will enhance the reading experience, it is not a prerequisite for comprehension or insight.

Unfortunately, some of the authors resort, at times, to language that suggests an ‘us-and-them’ dichotomy. This undermines the intention of the collection to humanise and un-objectify inmates. Some commentaries can leave the impression that academics and professionals ‘know better’ than the interviewed prisoners, appearing paternalistic and alienating for the reader. The overall design of the chapters bear the risk that the commenting authors either read more into the inmate narratives than the reader is willing to accept or do not reflect on aspects of the inmate narratives the reader finds worthy of interpretation. However, it is exactly these potential differences in the author’s and reader’s viewpoint that make the collection interesting. They encourage and allow the reader to critically engage with both the inmate narratives and the academic commentary.

The range of the interviewed inmates’ backgrounds and the covered topics make The Prisoner a well rounded and authentic study. The collection convincingly contends that the prisoner does not exist. Prisons might be uniform institutions, but inmates, as well as prison officers, certainly are not. The book also suggests that caring counts; that listening counts. So if you care to listen, this collection is well worth investing in.