Abstract
Research on desistance from crime has focused largely on Western regions. While culture has been identified as an important factor to consider, desistance studies largely hold cultural context constant. In this exploratory article, we offer one of the first qualitative examinations of ex-convict resettlement in East Asia. We focus on three aspects salient to the narratives of former prisoners in Hong Kong: their views regarding aging and aging out of crime, their felt sense of agency or willpower to “go straight,” and challenges to expressions of agency related to employment and facing family members. The pivotal importance and mediating effects of social support is underscored. Implications for research on desistance focused outside of occidental regions are explored.
Introduction
Despite a rich and growing scholarship on desistance (the cessation of criminal behavior) and resettlement of ex-offenders into their communities (e.g., Farrall & Calverley, 2006; Kazemian & Maruna, 2009), questions remain regarding how best to approach such research from a cross-cultural and comparative perspective. This article offers one of the first qualitative examinations of the challenges ex-prisoners face regarding their resettlement in Hong Kong, a special administrative region of the People’s Republic of China, during its post-colonial era.
The article explores the difficulties encountered by Hong Kong ex-prisoners on release from prison in an effort to develop directions for comparative research in East Asian regions. The article is divided into four sections. The first section situates the analysis within the context of Hong Kong society. The second section outlines the methodology used. Next, the various experiences and challenges facing the ex-prisoners interviewed on re-entry into their communities are reported. This section illuminates their views regarding aging and aging out of crime, their felt sense of agency or willpower to “go straight,” and, despite the presence of willpower, challenges to employment and facing family members. Finally, implications of the findings for comparative scholarship on desistance and resettlement, especially outside occidental contexts, are discussed.
The Context of Corrections in Hong Kong
Emerging as a global city during the 1990s (Chiu & Lui, 2004), Hong Kong is widely regarded as a gateway to Mainland China, where processes of globalization have created a unique context where “East meets West.” Despite a densely concentrated population of just more than seven million (as of 2010) residing within 426 square miles, levels of serious crime in Hong Kong are low by international standards (Broadhurst, Chan, & Lee, 2007; Broadhurst, Bacon-Shone, Bouhours, Lee, & Zhong, 2010). Rates of violent crime and fear of violent street crime are also comparatively low for a major world city; Hong Kong experienced an average of 62.05 murders between 1991 and 2010 (see http://www.police.gov.hk/ppp_en/09_statistics/ and http://www.sb.gov.hk/eng/pub/index.htm).
Such a long and stable period of low violent-crime rates has helped Hong Kong’s correctional authorities maintain a rehabilitative ethos that places emphasis on prisoner reformation and community reintegration, rather than on incapacitation or punishment (Chui, 1999, 2001). In contrast to many Western regions, correctional officials in Hong Kong express confidence in rehabilitation to positively effect prisoner transformation (cf. Allen, 1981; Garland, 2001; see also Laidler, 2009).
Following the 1997 retrocession of Hong Kong to Chinese sovereignty, Hong Kong’s Correctional Services Department (CSD) formed a new rehabilitation division focusing on the development of vocational training to prepare prisoners to re-enter the labor market (Laidler, 2009). Such initiatives are accompanied by official statistics generated by the CSD indicating successful prison and post-release programs. For instance, the success rates in 2012 were detention center (98%), training centers (62%), drug addiction treatment centers (44%), young prisoners (91%), rehabilitation centers (96%), and a range of supervision service schemes (88%-100%; cited in Correctional Information Services Department, 2013).
High success rates that are measured by the completion rate of statutory supervision such as these require qualifications. “Success” is measured by non-conviction of a criminal offense within a statutory period of supervision following release (Lo, 2008, p. 244), obviating the critique that such statistics do not capture those ex-prisoners who reoffend and are not apprehended. In addition, the length of the statutory supervision or the follow-up period may vary according to each of the supervision schemes. As such, the accounts of resettlement efforts reported here cannot be compared with any official measures of program success.
Prisoners released back into Hong Kong society face particularly daunting challenges. Hong Kong has a justified reputation as a fast-paced international city that values luck, entrepreneurialism, and wealth. It is consumption-centered, with only money and wealth as the “measure of all worth” (Mathews & Lui, 2001, p. 10). These pressures are further exacerbated by rising levels of income disparity in Hong Kong, with the Gini Coefficient worsening from .451 in 1981 to .533 in 2007 (Hong Kong Government, 1992; https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/fields/2172.html). In addition, Hong Kong’s transition into a global city during the 1990s was accompanied by occupational polarization and widening income inequality (Chiu & Lui, 2004). Such disparities are further undergirded by the fact that until 2011, there was no minimum wage in Hong Kong. Those at the bottom of the social class ladder, which naturally include many ex-prisoners, thus experience great challenges to simply getting by on a daily basis, let alone extricating themselves from a criminogenic past.
These collateral pressures are ratcheted up further by the desire, as expressed by a number of ex-prisoners interviewed, to maintain strong family ties instilled through an expectation of family as the nucleus of social order. It is possible that the “ethos” of the Hong Kong Chinese regarding the central role of family has helped play a role in creating Hong Kong’s low violent-crime culture. In part facilitated by Hong Kong’s laissez-faire mode of governance, an ethos of filial piety (loyalty and deference to parents), influenced by Confucianism, has instilled a general preference to rely on family members over governmental aid (Lau & Kuan, 1988). As McLaughlin (1993) noted, “free market economic policies and government non-intervention reinforced the tendency of the Chinese family to turn to itself for its economic survival and well-being” (p. 125). Confucianism plays a role given its influential stress on the role of family as the “primary welfare institution” (Vagg, 1998, p. 137). It is the family, also, that plays a central role in shaming and informal punishment. In Hong Kong society, there is a “generally low level of tolerance not only for offending, but also for even quite minor forms of non-conformist behaviour” (Vagg, 1998, p. 260). Criminal behavior thus often results not only in shame but also in a loss of “face,” a specific cultural emphasis on stigmatization, which is especially potent in the context of one’s family. Vagg adds that this cultural context “may result in problems for the reintegration of [shamed] individuals into society in the future” (p. 261). While Vagg’s focus is on juvenile delinquency, wherein families may be more sympathetic toward their offending children (see p. 260), further examination is warranted regarding the impact of a prison sentence on adults and their efforts to reintegrate with their communities and especially with their families.
As research is lacking on challenges for desisters in Hong Kong, it is our aim in this article to examine in detail the lived experiences of a sample of 23 Hong Kong Chinese ex-prisoners. A discussion of methods is followed by an examination of their views regarding the challenges they face as they grow older, whether they feel a sense of agency or willpower related to their efforts at “going straight,” and the obstacles faced in relation to finding work as well as reconnecting with family.
Method
Studies on desistance and “going straight” have become increasingly sophisticated, paying heed to the causal connections between narratives and espousals related to desistance, which point to a subjective felt sense of agency, and social factors (e.g., marital status, availability of drug-enabling peers, employment status, etc.). LeBel, Burnett, Maruna, and Bushway (2008), for instance, found evidence for an interaction between subjective and social factors affecting desistance. Others have noted that a facilitating environment conducive to desistance is only efficacious for those with a strong sense of agency and personal resolve (Laub & Sampson, 2003).
Based on the lack of research on desistance and resettlement focusing on Hong Kong, we used a qualitative approach designed to elicit candid reflection from male ex-prisoners. Due to time and financial constraints, convenience sampling was used. A non-governmental organization (NGO) in Hong Kong was approached and agreed to refer ex-prisoners who were receiving or had received help from the organization. The sampling criteria of this study included those who were aged 18 or above, those who were discharged from prison three years or earlier; and those who were willing to attend at least a one-hour interview. Participants were aged between 32 and 67 years, with a mean age of 52.2 years, were mostly single and divorced, with only three employed at the time of the interview; the others were receiving welfare support from the government. This study contains a sample of an “older” population, which is often neglected in the criminal justice research that samples young offenders. Most of our sample had spent time in a maximum security prison in Hong Kong and all had been incarcerated for at least four years. Most of the ex-prisoners had been discharged from prison for more than five years. Three were sex offenders, four violent offenders, six property offenders, and ten drug offenders (see also Adorjan & Chui, 2012).
Interviews were semi-structured, with several open-ended questions used as a base from which spontaneous and/or unanticipated responses could be traced. Interviews were mostly held in a private counseling room of the participating NGO and lasted between 90 and 120 minutes, with an average of 95 minutes. Before the commencement of the interview, each participant was asked to give oral and written consent, and they were also reminded of the option of terminating the interview if they wished. In all but two cases (where the interviews transcripts were recorded in note form), participants agreed to have their interviews audio-recorded. All interviews were conducted in Cantonese by the second author and translated into English. To ensure quality data generated from the interview, the interviewer would ask for clarification whenever there were contradictory responses or unclear explanations. What is more, it was never the intention of the interviewer to challenge participant responses but rather appropriate questioning would facilitate the participants to tell their stories and elaborate the messages they wanted to convey. To aid in the translation process, quotes are occasionally modified with grammatical changes for readability, while content is preserved. To facilitate data analysis, the interviews were imported into the qualitative analysis software NVivo 9. Broad themes were captured through open coding (Berg, 2004), such as “aging out,” “social capital,” “problem—finding employment,” and “problem—no willpower.”
Considering the lack of points of comparison, such as social workers or rehabilitative officers dealing with our sample of ex-prisoners, we treat the accounts proffered by our sample as necessarily partial and internal narratives of desistance (Farrall & Calverley, 2006; Maruna, 2001; Vaughan, 2007). Motivations and accounts should be viewed as appropriations from specific social contexts rather than reflections of objective intentions that animate behavior (Mills, 1940). Nor should expressions of agency and willpower be interpreted as “actual” success in resettlement. Such conclusions are beyond the scope of this exploratory study. In the following section, we explore some of the details of these accounts, referring to the ex-prisoners numerically in the order interviewed (i.e., N1, N2, etc.).
Aging Out, Life Experience, and Social Support
The “age invariance effect” is well recognized by criminologists, with adolescents of 15 to 17 years of age having the highest arrest rates of any group within the population, and with the frequency of offending sharply decreasing into adulthood (Blumstein & Cohen, 1979; Bottoms, Shapland, Costello, Holmes, & Muir, 2004, p. 370). The process of growing older as described by “ontogenetic” or maturational reform theories is often underscored as a key factor of desistance (Gove, 1985; McNeill, 2006, p. 46; Sampson & Laub, 1992). Such research also suggests that aging alone is a necessary but insufficient cause of desistance. Only 11 out of the 23 ex-prisoners interviewed attributed their desistance directly to aging. Indeed, five of them referred to giving up on desistance specifically due to problems related to aging. Rather than aging alone, their accounts emphasized the importance of the life experience that often accompanies maturation (Kazemian & Maruna, 2009), as well as individual willpower and social support networks.
Ex-prisoners referred to potential avenues for going straight as reasons accompanying their feeling that aging will lead to desistance. For instance, N15 (now 55, imprisoned for drug transportation), attributed his determination to quit drugs “because I am growing older now . . . I am eligible to apply for old age allowance very soon.” Others simply referred to less energy to engage in crime. N23, imprisoned for smuggling of pirated goods, including video compact disks (VCDs, a crime largely associated with triad activity in the past), stated that continuing to engage in such conduct “is not suitable for me because I am growing older. Unlike the youngsters, I have no energy for committing those offenses. Therefore, I worked for some proper jobs for 4 years after 1990.” Still others drew connections between aging and gaining life experience. N6, imprisoned for corruption and selling pirated VCDs, stated, First, I am growing older. Second, I obtain more life experience. I learn and understand more than in the past. My thought is different from that in adolescence. I can’t conclude what I did in adolescence is right or wrong. But I can [be] assure[d that] what I think right now is correct as I obtain more life experience.
Other ex-prisoners pointed to the life experience that accompanies growing older with an appreciation of the positive impact of familial and religious connections. For many of our interviewees, such connections served to pull them away from long histories of drug abuse. Drug abuse has been a long-standing social problem in Hong Kong, especially heroin use among lower and working class adult males, such as those in our sample (Hess, 1965; Laidler, 2005). For instance, while admitting that prison has helped him to desist from crime by making him more aware of the consequences of committing offenses, N16, imprisoned for selling drugs, recalled that in the past, he was “young and addicted to drugs,” and too immature to consider the impact of his drug use. He attributed his ability to eventually quit taking drugs due to the positive presence of his mother. When asked why his mother was unable to persuade him when he was young, he explained “I [didn’t] listen to her advice when I [was] young.” N19, imprisoned for robbery, also felt assured that he would not take drugs again, stating, “I don’t want to block my future.” When asked how he could be so certain, he replied, “I am growing older. My son is very good and my family treats me very well. If I keep taking drugs, I will die in future.” A former triad member, N19 demonstrates concern not just for himself (i.e., fear of death due to a drug overdose) but also due to familial obligations and positive connections. N4, imprisoned on the charge of drug possession, was a teenager when he became addicted to drugs. He also argued that he was able to quit drugs in the present “because I am getting older . . . I learn by growing older.” Asked if all young drug addicts could quit their addiction by the time they turn 50, he responded, it depends on whether you could find a good counselor . . . For example, Christians ask people to provide additional food to others. This action is done from my heart. When I cannot solve problems, I would pray to the Lord. Actually we could calm down by praying to the Lord. And the Bible tells us not to hate people even you dislike them. As a human being, our heart is actually our brain and our mind. So I think teenagers cannot understand what I am talking about.
Similarly N9, imprisoned due to triad affiliation and robbery, argued that since being discharged from prison in 1998, he would not risk committing further offenses “as I have [a family] now . . . In addition, I am growing older [and] have no brave[ry left] to do it.”
Not all the ex-prisoners interviewed felt that age and life experience led to them “going straight.” Five ex-prisoners argued that growing older actually exacerbated their ability to resettle into their communities, related especially to their continued drug abuse. These cases demonstrate the impact of an absence of social support. N22, imprisoned due to drug possession and making weapons, reflected on his problems quitting drugs, arguing that when he was younger, he “still [had] energy to work and [that he had] money to buy heroin in that period.” Having employment and money, from this perspective, enables drug use rather than desistance from taking drugs. N18, imprisoned for theft, argued that drug addicts’ “eagerness in quitting the drugs will drop” as they get older. “ . . . Why? This is because they have gone through over half of their lives. When they are reaching 40 years old and [realize they] have nothing.” N11, imprisoned 11 times for drug-related offenses, admitted his inability to quit heroin related to his father passing away and a close friend who died of a heroin overdose. His despondency was clearly evoked through his reflections on his friend: I hope one day I will be like my friend, who took [an] overdose [of] heroin and died . . . Yes, I choose to die. It’s very painful. None of us can smile deep from our hearts.
While expressing hope “the younger group” can be helped by government initiatives, he felt “people like me [can] not be saved . . . For the elder group who are around 40 to 50 years old, after they know how to change their life, they [are] nearly old enough to die.” He said that while his mother and sister have not given up on him, “I give up [on] myself.” N11 felt this way despite being only 37 years old. Yet, during the interview, N11 also referred to feeling “very disappointed in finding a job”; a difficulty likely exacerbated by growing older. Apparently aware of how he was presenting himself during the interview, N11 exclaimed without prompt “see how gloomy I am.”
Some ex-prisoners argued that getting older made it more difficult to seek assistance desisting from crime, whether through NGO post-release programs or religious affiliations. N10, imprisoned for drug possession and shoplifting, expressed skepticism that a particular welfare organization cannot help me much. For example, if I want to find a job, they will say [they may not be able to] employ me. They said that they have some 30 files on hand. Why should they give me a job? Some of them are better than me. Some of them are younger than me.
N8, imprisoned for fighting and drug possession, was similarly skeptical of receiving assistance from others. N8 said that his decision not to quit drugs came when he grew older; that he would be more willing to “struggle for my life” were he “30 years old now.” Asked whether he could still successfully desist from crime in the future, he said “no. It is because I am growing older,” and responded affirmatively when asked whether he wanted to give up. He added “I can’t seek [a] job by having such age.” N8 expressed reservations against seeking help due to his perceived advanced age, stating, “as I am growing older, I can’t quit taking drugs by [seeking help from an] evangelical.” N8 also implied that his reprieve from drugs is due strictly to not being able to afford them: I have insufficient money to take drugs every day. I am growing older, so I cannot commit stealing. And I can’t earn money now, I am just seeking for “free” enjoyment. I could get this enjoyment once I have money.
Aging remains an important factor for desistance among the ex-prisoners interviewed for this study. Yet, whether references to growing older were viewed in a positive or negative light were related to life experiences and social support, or lack thereof.
“Individual” Agency, Willpower, and Social Support
Apart from specific references to aging out of crime, six of the interviewees pointed to personal resolve as playing a significant part in their desistance from crime. Yet, such declarations were invariably undergirded by social support networks. While N20, a former triad member, proclaimed, “I help myself. I have to remind myself every moment [to keep from reoffending],” he also spoke of his religious faith, which he said that he needed to “remind myself that Jesus is by my side.” He recalled that while his four daughters initially “opposed me because I was so bad. They don’t care about me in the past,” he had since made amends with his daughters and “now, I help them to prepare meal[s].” He also referred to being “quite famous” with a social welfare organization where he volunteers with tasks such as cutting hair: “People rush to find me to have a hair cut for them,” he exclaimed enthusiastically.
Former drug addicts expressed similar resolve. Despite listing lack of energy and unemployment as continuing challenges related to quitting drugs, N22 argued that being “tough-minded” and having an “adherent” personality have helped him succeed where other drug abusers have failed. He said that in the past, his relationship with his mother was strained as his mother “didn’t allow me to go home,” which caused him to “sleep in [the] corridor or street. I was very pit[iful] in the past.” He also referred to applying for a voluntary program to quit drugs but then proceeded to reveal that his motivation came from his younger brother and sisters who asked him to apply for it and who “bought necessities for me.” When asked what brings him the most happiness in the present, he replied that “the happiest thing is to have a good family relationship, have a wife and son now.” N23 showed particular determination, claiming, “I would not take the drugs again even [if] the drug addicts put the drugs in front of me.” Asked why, he responded, “I am decisive to quit it. Actually drug addicts cannot quit taking drugs if they have no decisive[ness] to quit it.” In his past, N23 said that his family “treat[ed] me as an enemy” due to his drug addiction, and he lost connection with his brothers, one of whom died in a motorcycle crash. After some time, he said, “my brother persuaded me to quit [my] drug addiction when we celebrated my father’s birthday at home.” N4 also claimed that he could “quit addiction by myself instead of [needing to go to a] Drug Addiction Treatment Centre.” He then reflected on other drug addicts, arguing that if they “did not quit the addiction decisively, they would find lots of excuse and reasons for taking drugs again and blame their failure on society.” However, as N4 revealed above, he was able to quit ultimately due to the support of religious counselors. Interestingly, his statement reveals skepticism regarding others who point to Hong Kong per se as the cause of personal deprivation; that, from this perspective, it is personal resolve and a commitment to change that matters, regardless of the context or particular place and time. Likewise, during his interview, N19 seemed to concur with the notion that desisting from drugs required personal resolve: “A doctor told me that only one thing cannot be cured, that is attitude. If a person is not willing to quit taking drugs, a doctor can do nothing.” However as revealed above, N19’s desistance from drugs was also motivated by a combination of fear of death and losing ties with his family. Within the context of Hong Kong, losing ties with family may be an experience with greater relevance and resonance than in many Western regions.
In the opposite vein, some ex-prisoners who expressed lack of personal resolve and decisiveness to desist from crime often referred to detrimental social circumstances that undercut their sense of agency. For instance, while eventually quitting drugs, N15 lapsed back into drug abuse after his initial discharge from prison. Asked why, he said, “actually many people could quit the[ir] drug addiction after discharging from the prison. However I couldn’t quit it as I [had] no decisive[ness] to do so.” He recalled that after being discharged from prison, “[my] father . . . went out to work. My mother [had] died. My younger brother was studying and working in part-time mode. As I can’t seek jobs and [had] nothing to do, I [got] addicted again.” N15 identified that the “main problem” facing ex-offenders trying to desist from crime was finding an “occupation.” He reflected on these challenges: The main reason [ex-offenders are] unemployed is that we have no special skills to work. Nowadays, [a] license is required even for applying [for] a position as a security guard in Hong Kong. I guess we may have to get a license for applying a cleaning job position.
He also felt reticent to get married given his situation: I can’t take care myself, how can I take care of others? Besides, I am used to liv[ing] independently for many years . . . It is difficult to live independently without being employed. It is much more difficult to feed a family.
N15’s concerns for finding work as a security guard is significant given the importance of private security within public housing estates and commercial settings. These concerns are mixed with pressures to get married and fulfill family obligations that, again, may be of particular import in Hong Kong more than other regions.
N18 illustrated how problematic lack of willpower and esteem could be to a drug addicts’ family. He said that some [drug addicts] are so irresponsible that they will [take drugs] and gamble in front of their children. They don’t care for their next generation. For these people, it’s not good at all. Some of them are still good. They will take the drugs in the washroom so as to not let their children see it. At least, this group of people takes care of their children. Some of them have no esteem in front of their children. They even ask their child to help them . . . [I saw one] father pass the drugs to his son after he took it. Some of their wives also take it. There are three to four members in a family [who] take drugs . . . It looks like the domino. When one falls, the others will follow.
To alleviate the effects of such low self-esteem, N18 argued that it is important to live within ones’ means and be content with life as it is: “A person will be happy if he [is] satisfied with what he has. Then, I don’t need to take the ‘old path’.” N8 expressed awareness that his drug-related offense had negative consequences, yet felt powerless to stop himself: “I certainly know that it is wrong to do so. But I have no certain willpower [to] stop committing this offense . . . I mean I have no decisive[ness] to stop taking drugs, so I commit this offense.” Asked what made other drug addicts successful in eventually quitting drugs, he argued that “they [have] decisive[ness] to quit [their] drug addiction . . . because they may lose their families, wife and children.”
Personal resolve remains an important emotional buoy for ex-offenders aiming to desist from crime. What the accounts from our sample of ex-prisoners reveal is that the sense individuals have regarding their ability, or lack of, to desist, is mediated by social forces helping to instill, or undercut their sense of agency. Within the context of Hong Kong, ties to one’s family are considered, among our sample of ex-prisoners, of particular salience. This suggests evidence for the broader notion that Hong Kong citizens place the family as central to their lives and emphasizes the importance of maintaining strong family bonds for those in conflict with the law. The picture painted by our sample also suggests that families need not necessarily be an anchor of positive social support; in some cases, drug addicted fathers may pass their problems onto their family and perpetuate a cycle of drug abuse and crime.
Interacting Effects: Drug Abuse, Family Support, and Employment
The draw of drugs should not be underestimated in mitigating desistance resolve. Of the nine ex-prisoners convicted due to drug possession or trafficking, seven pointed to what may be considered sensual pleasures associated with drug use (Katz, 1988). Such pleasures served as a way for some to cope with social pressures to find employment and handle caustic familial relations. N11, for instance, spoke of the powerful temptation of heroin. Asked how he is able to continue to take heroin when he is aware of the consequences, he reflected, What’s the temptation of heroin? Once you take heroin, it seems there is a reservoir of blood flush into your brain and your brain will immediately become blank. Your mind and your worries will be totally disappeared. You feel relaxed. Most importantly, it causes no pain. If you fall down, you won’t feel any pain. For a normal person, if he falls down and bleeds, he feel painful. For a drug addict, he doesn’t. This is because heroin can cause drug addicts loss their sensation. Apart from this, a drug addict will no longer care for his appearance. This is the reason why a policeman could tell the difference between a drug addict and a normal person. Drug addicts have no dignity . . . The only reason why [they] keep on taking heroin is to intoxicate themselves.
N11 admitted that “several times” he “nearly died,” and stayed in a hospital’s intensive care unit for several days. For “people like me,” he argued, “our life is less valuable.” Asked why he was so willing to take heroin, he replied, “to intoxicate myself.” Pressed to answer why he would want to intoxicate himself, he responded, If I go to find a find job, I just have a low qualification. In recent years, the situation in Hong Kong is gloomy. It is hard to be hired. Also, I have family problems which results in pressure. For a normal person, they may have support from families or others . . . however, people like me who have no support will take heroin to intoxicate myself.
N10 pointed to the pleasure of drugs as a stimulus distracting from concerns about unemployment. “Most of us feel that time passes quickly after taking drugs. We don’t have proper jobs and so we take drugs in order to kill time.” Similarly, when he had little money, N8 “would sometimes take drugs for getting [a] ‘free’ feeling . . . it is very comfortable, just like flying in space.” These statements illustrate that the personal escape into the pleasures of drugs is mediated by larger social forces, such as enabling peers and pressures to gain employment and acquire money, especially in the context of Hong Kong.
The pressures of being unemployed were also exacerbated by poor familial relations, sometimes pushing ex-prisoners away from their families and toward enabling peer groups. For instance N14, imprisoned for numerous instances of theft, illustrated the combined problems of unemployment and strained family relations: “I committed stealing because I have no money to buy drugs. As I [was] unemployed and I [couldn’t] ask my stepparents to get money for taking drugs, I had to commit stealing.” He recalled, “my stepparents would blame me even [though] I haven’t done wrong. I could not share that unhappiness with others, I would leave home and met [with] bad guys. Then I kept doing this afterwards. After that, I wanted to start my new life and quit drugs, but my stepparents don’t understand and asked me to leave home.” Importantly, N14’s strained familial relations may have been tempered had N14 had sympathetic peers who were not drug addicts. Similarly, N2, imprisoned for robbery and operating a vice establishment, recounted typical difficulties coming out of prison and looking for work. The “major problem [now] is looking for jobs,” he said. Despite attending several job interviews, N2 encountered disappointment: “When I had a job interview, the company asked me to wait for their reply. And companies had already hired an employee when I call them.” N2 said that the companies he applied to were aware of his offense history. In addition, after being discharged from prison, he could not work, causing him to be rejected by his father. Not being able to stay at home, he was forced to live in the streets. N2 said that his father always blamed me that I have no stable job. I don’t want to argue with him, so I choose to live alone . . . I lived [on the] street for about 1 year. After that, I worked for some temporary jobs and accumulated money for renting a house.
He went on to say that his parents would refuse to lend him money despite his requests for assistance. Eventually, he met a friend who introduced him to a job of cleaning lavatories.
For some ex-prisoners, weak social ties or connections with enabling peer networks exacerbated efforts finding employment. N23 stated that the reason he engaged in smuggling of pirated goods was that he “was unemployed and met a[n] ex-prisoner who asked [him] whether [he was] willing to commit the offense.” Commenting on the main barriers to quitting drugs, N7, imprisoned for drug possession, referred to having “too much time” and “hav[ing] no friends.” Yet the main problem stems, he said, from unemployment: “So if someone wants to help people, the first thing is to help them in seeking jobs.” After a period of unemployment, he eventually desisted from crime, as he says, “because I met some good friends.” In contrast, supportive family ties helped undergird the resolve to desist among drug addicts and other ex-prisoners. The significance of having strong family support was found among 18 of the 23 ex-prisoners interviewed. N16, for instance, identified a common problem facing drug addicts that “they have insufficient money for their living.” However, he said that he was able to avoid such difficulties, saying, “I am very lucky because my mother looks after me.” He reflected that he knew of other drug addicts who would try to borrow money from others or steal to buy drugs and would often end up sleeping in the streets. However, N16 was able to avoid homelessness and repeated that he felt “very lucky as I have a mother.”
Problems dealing with unemployment and finding work were very central themes expressed by virtually all the ex-prisoners interviewed. Of the 23 interviewees, 21 conveyed problems finding work or dealing with conditions of unstable employment and having little or no money. What these accounts demonstrate is that these problems are much more acute when mixed with strained familial relations and especially with a history of drug abuse. Living up to familial expectations and obligations within Hong Kong often places even greater pressure on ex-prisoners to “go straight.” In what appears to be a classic self-fulfilling prophecy, estrangement from family and potentially supportive peer groups sometimes opened opportunities for ex-prisoners to seek peer groups that would help them find drugs and moot efforts to desist from crime and resettle into their communities.
Discussion
Findings from Hong Kong echo those in the existing literature centered on the occident, which suggest that the main difficulties regarding re-entry lie in disconnection from family relationships, a lack of social support, economic instability caused by unemployment, the stigma of a criminal record, homelessness, drug addiction, and the psychological scarring that imprisonment inflicts on an individual (Liebling & Maruna, 2005; Travis, Solomon, & Waul, 2001). All these factors appear to affect the ability of the ex-prisoners interviewed in this study to cope with life outside prison. On release from prison, ex-prisoners encountered many difficulties during the re-entry process and further down the line. Particular challenges were faced by drug addicts, which exacerbated efforts to maintain positive family and peer ties as well as efforts to gain legitimate employment. The deficiency of skills or education attained by these ex-prisoners, low self-esteem, lack of ambition, and psychological problems were factors that interacted to reduce their ability to successfully adapt to life outside prison by reducing the likelihood of gaining employment, housing, and so forth (Anglin, Brecht, Woodward, & Bonett, 1986, p. 244; Chui & Cheng, 2013; Moffitt, 1993; Shover, 1983).
Researchers have recognized that individually motivated offenders who remain optimistic, demonstrating resolve and determination to desist, may be more successful than those less-optimistic about their ability to desist, even when other possible influences are factored in (Kazemian & Maruna, 2009; Shover, 1996). While our aim was not to “test” whether individual motivation facilitated desistance independent of other factors, it appeared that accounts of personal resolve to desist from crime, expressed through claims of willpower, were undergirded by positive social bonds to family and peer networks.
In many ways, then, the pressures experienced by ex-offenders in Hong Kong are similar to those found in many Western regions. In another article (Adorjan & Chui, 2012), we further examine the strain experienced by those who are unable to live up to a “Hong Kong dream” (no doubt related to the “China dream” next door), which is comparable with that of the United States, although with a particular emphasis on material possession and entrepreneurialism. In Hong Kong, where “social class has been based, quite nakedly, on money” (Mathews & Lui, 2001, p. 8) particular pressures are evident among the ex-prisoners interviewed for this study, with some feeling that Hong Kong is more competitive today versus previous eras (see Adorjan & Chui, 2012, p. 587). Others, such as N5 (incarcerated for theft) expressed that “only rich men are protected under the law of Hong Kong.”
Offering a sophisticated analysis theorizing the interacting effects of agency and structure in desistance research, Bottoms and his colleagues (2004) suggested culture as one salient factor among others, including broader structures and situational contexts. Interestingly, they conclude their article by raising questions related to the “American dream”—that with hard work, individuals can overcome personal hardship and succeed with respect to acquiring power, employment stability, and material wealth. Intriguingly, they ask whether “there a corresponding ‘English dream’? [If so, w]hat does it contain? And, more importantly, is there more than one English dream—and to which one do our offenders and desisters aspire?” (p. 384). These questions suggest the under-developed theorizing related to the role of culture in desistance scholarship. We would like to raise the same questions for regions such as East Asia, where differences in not only culture but also political economy may come to affect ex-convicts’ efforts to resettle into legitimate society. Connected to such questions is Maruna’s (2011) observation that “contemporary Anglo-American societies (not just Britain, but Britain represents a typical example) are particularly bad at reintegrating and re-accepting individuals who have committed offenses back into wider society” (p. 4). Further exploration of this question in the Hong Kong context is warranted, especially given the cultural emphasis placed on shame and losing face for ex-convicts in relation to their families.
While the interviews conducted for this article do not reveal a sea change difference regarding the challenges facing resettlement in much of the existing Western-based literature, it is the expectation of difference that produces the potential for such comparative criminological analyses to reproduce what Edward Said (1978/1994) dubbed as “orientalism.” Orientalism refers to a mode of representation and domination, projected from the “West” onto the “East,” which reifies essentialist narratives of “we” versus “the Other.” Early founders of sociology such as Weber and Marx were later critiqued for presuming an Asiatic mode of production, which was placed in contrast to the (enlightened) progress of Western materialism (see Zeitlin, 2001). It is only recently that criminologists have addressed this problem, for instance, those who find that criminological theories developed in Europe or North America do not easily map onto other areas, such as Trinidad or regions outside the “Anglo global north” (Aas, 2012; Cain, 2000). Moreover, as some scholars of Hong Kong’s criminal justice system have noted about the post-1997 period, when Britain seceded its sovereignty over Hong Kong to China, while much has changed, what is perhaps more remarkable is how much has not. While there have been new courts and name changes, the institutions that comprise Hong Kong’s criminal justice system continue to function in fundamentally the same manner as they did under British rule. (Gaylord, Gittings, & Traver, 2009, p. vii)
A number of areas for further research present themselves. While our study provides a snapshot of ex-offender narratives post-release, further research regarding the processes involved with desistance for Hong Kong persons is needed (e.g., Haggard, Gumpert & Grann, 2001; Laub & Sampson, 2001; Maruna, 2001). We especially acknowledge the limitations of cross-sectional studies of desistance to be susceptible to retrospective realignment of identity, whereby ex-convicts may “strive to present themselves as coherent beings” and illuminate those aspects of the past that assemble to form an idealized present self; one that also aligns with an idealized future (Mead, 1932; see also Bottoms et al., 2004, p. 382; Sykes & Matza, 1957).
It is possible that the narratives espoused by the ex-offenders in this study helped maintain their identities of desistance, although comparing these accounts with other sources of information (such as official records) and perspectives (i.e., from other correctional workers) is important for further exploration. This is especially the case considering the importance of “identity deconstruction” for enabling long-term desistance (Maruna, 2001). As such, subsequent research should aim to include the narratives of other relevant stakeholders (e.g., correctional officers, probation officers, social workers, family members, and peers) as points of comparison. Such comparisons would not be geared to accessing a greater truth regarding reasons for desistance but to provide further context regarding the challenges facing ex-prisoners in Hong Kong. Greater tracking of success rates related to prisons would also help to complement such research and inform criminal justice practitioners about the efficacy of their systems and programs. Additional research should also examine experiences of desistance among female ex-prisoners in Hong Kong, especially considering that Hong Kong has recently ranked first internationally for its proportion of female prisoners (Laidler, Petersen, & Emerton, 2007; Lee, 2007).
Despite its limitations, this exploratory study is geared to raise questions about the role of culture and cultural comparison in desistance research. For instance, it is worthwhile reflecting on the particular “respectability package” influencing offender desistance in Hong Kong. While Giordano, Cernkovich, and Rudolph (2002) referred to this concept during their discussion of the positive effects of job stability and marriage, the lingering Confucian influence in Hong Kong may mean that familial connections and marriage are more significant “social adhesives” than other factors relating to the strengthening of social bonds. Perhaps more crucial is exploring the processes through which “face” and “shame” have impact on ex-offender identity (Vagg, 1998). Considering Lebel et al.’s (2008) discussion of shame and remorse as one of four subjective areas critical for successful efforts at desistance, how this plays out in East Asian regions is of particular interest.
In an article exploring the implications of orientalism for criminological research, Sheptycki (2008) argued that “whether understanding cuisine or crime, cultural differences are important and interesting but, at least when it comes to the latter, it is probably the case that understanding the political governance of economy and society proves more efficacious in explanation” (p. 26). Considerations of political governance, moreover, should address processes of globalization that links micro-level deprivations to transnational economic and political exigencies. This is particularly important in Hong Kong, where the local currency is tied to the U.S. dollar, and where, increasingly, U.S. diplomatic relations with China are gaining tension. Cain (2000) also raised an important point when she argues that “a zero-sum choice between [criminological analysis of] the home-grown and the imported is not required.” Advocating instead an “interactive globalization,” she criticizes Western criminology for being “locked in as it is to either orientalist [essentialized difference] or occidentalist [essentialized sameness] paradigms, [thereby] . . . missing the theoretical and political opportunities offered by familiarity with a wider range of ways of social ordering” (p. 250). What is required, therefore, are numerous studies weaving a tapestry of method examining the micro-, meso-, and macro-level points of social assemblage that help explain the processes and challenges of desistance and resettlement for ex-offenders in non-Western regions.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
Publication success is socially mediated. The authors would like to thank the social workers who work with prisoners and ex-prisoners for their assistance in recruiting research participants for this study. They would also like to thank the anonymous reviewers of The Prison Journal for their feedback received on earlier drafts.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no conflicts of interest concerning the authorship and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.