An Assessment of the Knowledge,Support,and Behavior Surrounding the Implementation of the Prison Rape Elimination Act

Sexual Victimization in Corrections

In 1968, Alan J. Davis published a report documenting the extent of sexual victimization within the Philadelphia jail system. He specifically reviewed court records that spanned a 26-month long period and estimated that 2,000 of the 60,000 (3%) detainees housed in pre-trial detention during this time had been sexually abused. Later, Lockwood (1980) found that of the 89 New York state prison population members they interviewed, 25 (28%) reported being the target of sexual aggression during their incarceration. Struckman-Johnson et al. (1996) estimated that over 20% of the 1,788 Nebraska-state incarcerated persons they studied disclosed being the victims of forced sexual coercion. In 2004, Gaes and Goldberg indicated how rates of reported sexual victimization among incarcerated people housed in federal prisons ranged between 1% and 16%. While results from a 2011 to 2012 National Inmate Survey (NIS) discovered that 12% of respondents experienced a sexual victimization by another incarcerated person, an additional 5.4% indicated how they were the victim of staff-initiated sexual assaults.

Recently, Buehler (2021) reported that there were 27,826 allegations of sexual violence reported within prisons, jails, and other correctional facilities across the United States in 2018, 1,673 of which later being substantiated. Disparate estimates of sexual victimization within institutional settings, according to Wolff et al. (2006), could be the result of any number of factors, including differences in data collection procedures used across studies, how the term sexual victimization is both conceptualized and operationalized, the willingness of victims to report, along with the punishment philosophy subscribed to by an institution. Despite the varying nature of these figures, Wolff et al. (2006) asserted that sexual victimization within correctional environments remains a concern that must be addressed.

What the latter findings in particular demonstrate is that sexual violence within corrections remains a problem, despite PREA mandates now in existence to address it. Written directly within this legislation is how its effectiveness and efficiency “are compromised by the failure of State officials to adopt procedures that reduce the incidence of prison rape” (Prison Rape Elimination Act, 2003, p. 3). Restated, the stakeholders most responsible for the successful enforcement of this policy, and the ones from whom support is most needed, are the frontline staff and incarcerated persons who each are impacted by this law every day. Without their willingness to report and address sexual abuse, PREA risks becoming a purely legal concept. As staff and incarcerated people represent the mechanisms through which PREA is enforced, studying their levels of support and knowledge for its implementation, as well as the decisions they are making regarding it, may afford insight into whether this policy is achieving its goals.

Research on PREA

Scant academic attention has to date been devoted to the topic of how PREA is being received and applied by the individuals charged with engaging with it, that is, corrections staff and incarcerated individuals. Of the research that has been conducted on PREA, much of it is centered on legal analysis in law journals (Jenness & Smyth, 2011; Tewksbury, 2021). Other scholarly works examining this federal legislation have focused on its historical development (Jenness & Smyth, 2011), the guidelines, toolkits, and training necessary for correctional administrators (Clem & Asbridge, 2013), PREA’s evolving legal mandates (Arkles, 2014), as well as how it affects vulnerable populations (Ratkalkar & Atkin-Plunk, 2020). Except for three studies (Rudes et al., 2020; Smith, 2020a, 2020b), few authors have devoted scholarly attention to how PREA is being interpreted and applied by both corrections staff and incarcerated persons.

Rudes et al. (2020) collected qualitative data from correctional officers working in six state prisons. Sample members in this study viewed PREA as interfering with their “real” custody/control work. The authors explained how this misalignment had “major implications for the productive implementation and use of PREA” (p. 241). Smith (2020a) conducted a process/program evaluation of a PREA Demonstration Project instituted across a state-wide correctional system located in the southeastern United States. Designed to educate, inform, and train corrections administrators, staff, and incarcerated individuals on PREA policy, this project involved interagency collaborations between representatives of the state prison system and Just Detention International (JDI), a health and human rights watch organization.

Smith (2020a) examined the training program from its inception and collected perceptual data from trainees regarding their impressions of the program and implementation process. Beginning with almost all high-level prison administrators in attendance of a PREA implementation training, they praised the initiative for its educational value, yet cited the need to “merge philosophical orientations of key stakeholders . . . to effectively implement PREA” (Smith, 2020a, p. 3). Next, focus groups with 30 incarcerated persons were conducted in which respondents rejected stereotypical portrayals of prison rape and lauded the training program for the level of information (and feeling of safety, resources, and reporting responses) it provided (Smith, 2020b). Finally, telephone interview data were collected from a convenience sample of 33 frontline correctional staff who also overwhelmingly praised the program.

In another study, Smith (2020b) collected qualitative data from both corrections staff and incarcerated people to ascertain the strengths and weaknesses of PREA, as perceived by these respective sample members. Both groups identified strengths including the perceptions that PREA improved the institutional climate, and increased awareness levels for sexual violence. Weaknesses included perceptions that PREA was not being taken seriously by some staff and that the law was not being prioritized by incarcerated people, especially when considering that, to them, there were more pressing issues at hand such as staffing shortages and arbitrarily enforced institutional lockdowns. Contributions these studies have made to the PREA literature should not be understated, yet it is nevertheless important to expand upon this work by exploring how exactly PREA is being received, understood, and enforced within institutional environments as such knowledge carries considerable implications for the successful enforcement of this law.

Correctional Officer Decision-Making

Legislative acts that have wide sweeping effects are often implemented with little input solicited from the individuals most impacted by them, particularly input from the people charged with enforcing these acts (Clark, 1998). This can create a disconnect between goals developed in theory versus the perceptions, behaviors, and motivations of frontline bureaucrats, the individuals tasked with policy enforcement. Lipsky (2010) coined the term street-level, or frontline bureaucrat to refer to “public service workers who interact directly with citizens in the course of their job, and who have substantial discretion in the execution of their work” (p. xi). Frontline workers are responsible for “many of the most central activities of public agencies, from determining program eligibility to allocating benefits, judging compliance, imposing sanctions, and exempting individuals from penalties” (Meyers et al., 2007, p. 154). Frontline bureaucrats occupy a unique position at the interface between citizens and the criminal justice system as they can choose, for instance, to issue citations to individuals, grant them access to public services, process their cases, among so many other discretionary decisions within their purview. Since street-level workers sometimes operate outside the supervision of superiors, they wield considerable influence in policy implementation. Social policy goals depend heavily upon their enforcement from frontline personnel. As a result, street-level bureaucrats can relegate a policy to a more figurative, rather than an actual status in the mind of a citizen (Meyers et al., 2007).

The implementation of policy is filtered through the decision-making processes invoked by street-level bureaucrats as part of their daily working lives. They act as the intermediaries between policy creation and policy outcome, and the decisions they undertake in relation to any policy can fundamentally shape its trajectory (Lipsky, 2010). Concerning corrections staff, who are prime examples of frontline bureaucrats, they wield considerable discretionary authority in their work settings. They can, as examples, decide to formally reprimand institutional clients, search their cells, deny them recreation time, or visitation privileges (Smith, 2020b). How they decide to exert their authority is also within their discretionary control. For instance, staff have available to them a range of power bases they can use to ensure compliance with institutional regulations (i.e., reward, referent, legitimate, coercive, and expert; Ferdik & Smith, 2015). Decisions undertaken by correctional staff in the course of their job can influence greatly facility operations. As a federal policy itself, PREA’s primary objective is the complete eradication of sexual violence in institutional environments. For PREA to be effective, it requires “facility leadership and the development of a culture that prioritizes efforts to combat sexual abuse” (Prison Rape Elimination Act, 2003, p. 2). Whether this can be achieved will depend heavily upon the discretionary decision-making authority invested in corrections staff, coupled with the concomitant willingness of incarcerated individuals to enforce this law as well.

Institutional Support and CULTURAL ASPECTS OF PREA

Alford and Friedland (1985) pioneered the study of institutional logics, and described this concept in the following way: “Each of the important orders in Western society has a central logic—a set of material practices and symbolic constructions—which constitute its organizing principles and which is available to individuals to elaborate” (p. 1). An institutional logic can be further defined as a pattern of organizational behaviors reflective of an institution’s principles. An example could be a university, or institution of higher learning, that assigns its own meaning to the term pedagogy. Whereas in regional comprehensive universities, the definition of pedagogy may mean student-oriented teaching, in more research-focused institutions, the meaning of this term may adopt a radically different definition. Behaviors reflective of each conceptualization are in alignment with the institutional meaning of the term. Logics embedded within institutions, according to Alford and Friedland (1985), are flexible and subject to change.

In applying the concept of institutional logics to corrections, these agencies contain their own norms, values, beliefs, and logics that dictate how their constituent populations will behave and define their own reality. The implementation of PREA required fundamental overhauls to how the logics of corrections not only defined sexual violence, but responded to it as well (Smith, 2020a). According to Rudes et al. (2020), when new ideologies or logics are formed within an institution, how they are interpreted and responded to “suggests actors within a system may exert influence on institutional logics by maintaining inertia, or by incrementally guiding them towards a revised trajectory” (p. 244). Sometimes new logics may receive resistance because there is a disconnect between existing logics and newly introduced ones. If this in fact is the case with PREA, where perceptions held by corrections staff and incarcerated persons regarding sexual violence are incongruous with PREA, there is a greater likelihood that its implementation will be stifled, or will fail altogether.

Current Study

Past research exploring correctional staff and incarcerated person perceptions of PREA is hampered by several methodological shortcomings. Foremost among these is that no prior study has utilized quantitative methodologies to examine this topic. In all three of the aforementioned studies (Rudes et al., 2020; Smith, 2020a, 2020b), these authors relied exclusively on qualitative data collection procedures. While undoubtedly vital, sample sizes were relatively modest, thus inhibiting generalization efforts. Second, and with regard to the Smith (2020a) study, specific focus here was on corrections staff and incarcerated person perceptions of the PREA Demonstration training project, rather than on the legislation itself. Interest here was geared more toward understanding how the program was being received instead of on how PREA was viewed. Results from the present investigation expand on this by exploring conceptually distinct topics, namely, support and knowledge of PREA, along with its enforcement using hypothetical scenarios involving acts of sexual deviance and/or sexual violence.

Currently, no study exists in the literature that has examined these points in particular among both staff and incarcerated populations. While the Smith (2020b) study did query such respondents on PREA itself, again, data collection was restricted to qualitative methods alone. Moreover, this study only asked sample members about their perceptions of the strengths and weaknesses of the legislation, without analyzing whether it was supported, enforced correctly, or even understood, all topics that again are being investigated in the current study to add to the relatively limited body of work on PREA. As mentioned, the policy’s success is heavily contingent on staff and incarcerated person support for and understanding of it. If either does not comprehend accurately this policy and/or express little to no support for it, this can severely hamper efforts to abolish acts of sexual harassment and/or assault within corrections.

Method

Data

A state-level prison system in the southeastern United States was awarded in 2016 a BJS grant to implement PREA standards. A component of this approach included a focus on three male medium-security pilot prisons. In collaboration with Just Detention International (JDI), corrections personnel and incarcerated individuals were provided extensive training on PREA, and information on what constitutes a sexual violation, as well as the procedures needing to be followed to detect, report, and prevent incidents of sexual harassment and/or assault. Feedback from corrections staff and incarcerated people was solicited in the current study to understand how these participants responded to the implementation of PREA.

Broad questions of interest included (a) What levels of knowledge concerning PREA did members of each sample acquire following the program; (b) Do both support PREA and its implementation; and (c) How were each enforcing the legislation? To address these issues, initial meetings between departmental administrators and members of the research staff were arranged to develop data collection content and procedures. Institutional Review Board (IRB) materials were reviewed and approved by the University of South Carolina and the research division of the state-prison system under study. Data collection occurred between July and September, 2016. All three pilot prisons were selected for the training because of their comparable features, including how they were all male-only, medium-level security agencies located in rural areas with receptive wardens willing to grant access to participants for study purposes.

Purposive sample survey data were collected from incarcerated persons, along with custodial and non-custodial staff housed in the three target prisons. Excluded from the former sample were those who at the time of data collection were in segregation units, as well as those under the age of 18 (numbers on the former were unavailable, and there were 20 minors in only one facility at the time of data collection). Paper-and-pencil versions of the questionnaire were administered in-person to all respondents. This delivery method was preferred over others such as mailed and electronic because it would have been difficult for incarcerated people to physically mail back surveys, and because of their restricted access to digital devices. It has also been found that hard-copy delivery can produce comparatively higher sample sizes and response rates (Dillman et al., 2014).

Cover letters accompanied every survey informing respondents of the voluntary, confidential, and anonymous nature of the study, and that approximately 15 minutes of their time would be needed to complete the questionnaire. These IRB safeguards were heavily reinforced when delivering the surveys. Due to variable staff work schedules, research team members returned to each prison on multiple occasions to ensure that all personnel had the opportunity to participate in the study. While incentives for study participation were not afforded, it was explained to sample members that the responses they submitted would be used to improve safety and security across the institution, as well as improve the general conditions of their institution. These collective data collection efforts resulted in 490/3,298 available prison population members (14.8% response rate) and 222/666 corrections staff (33.3% response rate) returning useable questionnaires.

Respondent demographics are reported in Table 1 where a number of similarities between each sample can be seen. More than one quarter of all prison inhabitants and staff were over the age of 50 at the time of survey distribution (25.51% for the former; 37.37% for the latter). Less than 10% of each sample was Hispanic, while over 50% was Black or African American. Finally, over 90% of both respective sample members were heterosexual and Cisgender. Considering the modest response rate obtained in the current study, the authors contacted administrators from the three prisons where the study was conducted, and requested information on population demographics for both staff and incarcerated persons to determine the representativeness of our sample. In relation first to staff and referring initially to their age, among the collective population, 8.34% fell between the range of 18 and 25, 36.6% were between 26 and 41, and finally, a combined 55.9% were over 41. For gender, 57.9% were female, while 42.1% were male. In terms of ethnicity, 2.70% self-reported being Hispanic. Finally in terms of race, 41.5% were White, 54.3% were Black or African American, with the remaining approximately 5% self-reporting either an Asian, Mixed, or Pacific Islander race. In terms of age comparisons for incarcerated individuals, 11.8% fell between 18 and 25, 22.3% between 26 and 33, 26.1% between 34 and 41, and finally, 40.1% were over 41. For race, 56.3% were Black or African American, 37.2% White, and the remaining self-identified as Asian, Pacific Islander, or Mixed. Exactly 7.22% reported a Hispanic ethnicity. Overall, population and sample characteristics along these demographic attributes mirrored one another closely. ¹

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Table 1:

Sample Demographics

Variables	Incarcerated persons (n = 490)		Staff (n = 222)
	n	%	n	%
Age
18–25	48	09.79	21	09.45
26–33	99	20.20	38	17.11
34–41	122	24.89	42	18.91
42–49	90	18.36	38	17.11
>50	125	25.51	83	37.38
Gender
Male	484	100.00	90	40.54
Female	—	—	132	59.46
Ethnicity
No	451	93.56	216	97.29
Yes	31	06.43	6	2.71
Race
Black or African American	258	53.63	116	52.25
White	188	39.08	94	42.34
Asian	2	00.04	0	00.00
Multiracial	10	02.07	7	03.15
Other	23	05.78	5	02.25
Sexual orientation
Straight/heterosexual	441	92.06	220	99.09
Gay/lesbian	11	02.29	2	00.91
Bisexual	6	01.25	0	00.00
Not sure	4	00.84	0	00.00
Other	17	03.54	0	00.00
Transgender status
No	425	97.92	220	99.09
Yes	9	02.07	2	00.91
Employment tenure
0–1 year	—	—	32	14.41
2–5 years	—	—	67	30.18
6–10 years	—	—	56	25.22
11–20 years	—	—	44	19.81
>20 years	—	—	23	10.36
Lifetime incarceration
0–1 year	43	08.84	—	—
2–5 years	140	28.80	—	—
6–10 years	111	22.84	—	—
11–20 years	140	28.80	—	—
>20-year length	52	10.70	—	—
Educational status:
No GED	122	25.20	5	02.25
HS or GED	292	60.33	108	48.65
Associate’s	44	09.09	44	19.82
Bachelor’s	17	03.51	35	15.77
Graduate or professional degree	9	01.85	30	13.51
Position at facility
Security	—	—	135	60.81
Non-security	—	—	87	39.17
Supervisory status
Supervisory	—	—	95	42.79
Non-supervisory	—	—	127	57.21
Positive mental health diagnosis
No	298	65.78	—	—
Yes	126	27.81	—	—
Don’t know	29	06.40	—	—
Political orientation
Very conservative	55	11.22	27	12.16
Conservative	130	26.53	70	31.53
Moderate	201	41.02	104	46.8
Liberal	49	10.00	11	04.95
Very liberal	21	04.28	4	01.80

Note. HS = high school; GED = general equivalency diploma.

Results

Knowledge of the PREA Mandate

Study participants responded to the same three questions measuring their accurate knowledge of PREA. An additional two knowledge-related questions, each specific to the respective groups given their different roles within the prison, were also administered. Table 2 provides data on the knowledge levels of PREA held by both incarcerated persons and staff. Referring initially to the former, about 90% correctly answered all but one knowledge question. This one question asked whether sexual contact between staff and incarcerated people is legal. Out of 482 respondents, 64 (13.2%) incorrectly believed such contact is legal. Regarding staff, over 90% also correctly responded to four of the five questions. In the one exception, only 32.2% (71/222) accurately identified how incarcerated persons are not required to participate in an investigation after submitting a sexual assault report. While a majority of respondents submitted accurate replies to most of the knowledge-based questions, the incorrect answers highlight gaps in knowledge about PREA policies, particularly in reference to relationships and reporting.

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Table 2:

Respondent Knowledge of the Prison Rape Elimination Act (PREA)

Items	Incarcerated persons (n = 490)		Staff (n = 222)
	Yesn (%)	Non (%)	Yesn (%)	Non (%)
Is PREA supposed to protect inmates from sexual abuse and harassment?	438 (90.9)	44 (9.1)	213 (96.3)	8 (3.6)
Does your prison system have a sexual assault hotline for inmates?	431 (89.6)	50 (10.4)	207 (93.6)	14 (6.3)
Is it legal for correctional staff to have sexual contact with inmates?	64 (13.2)	418 (86.7)	21 (9.4)	202 (90.6)
Is an inmate who has been sexually abused in the past more vulnerable to being assaulted in prison?	—	—	210 (94.1)	13 (5.8)
If an inmate reports a sexual assault, do they have to participate in the investigation?	—	—	150 (67.8)	71 (32.2)
Is another inmate allowed to make you have sexual contact with them in exchange for protection?	34 (7)	449 (93)	—	—
If an inmate is sexually assaulted, does she/he have a right to emergency medical care?	435 (89.8)	49 (10.1)	—	—

Vignettes of Hypothetical PREA Compliance

Hypothetical though realistic scenarios that could occur within institutional settings were provided to respondents. They then were asked to select between two courses of action they would choose in response, with one being compliant with PREA policy, and the other not. Scenarios were tailored to each sample considering their different positions within the prison, and what PREA would specifically require of them in that situation. Tables 3 and 4 contain the responses submitted by both groups of respondents, respectively.

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Table 3:

Staff Responses to Vignettes (n = 222)

Items	Responsesn (%)	Responsesn (%)
Vignette 1: An inmate tells you that they were the victim of inmate-on-inmate sexual abuse at another institution in your prison system. You should	Give the inmate the phone number of that institution, and counsel him to take care of the problem on his own 6 (2.7)	Look into the report, and alert your supervisor 216 (97.3)
Vignette 2: You are working in a dormitory-style housing unit. An inmate informs you that another inmate continually enters the shower at the same time as them and stares at them while they are showering. You should	Counsel the inmate to take care of the problem on their own, otherwise they will look weak in front of others 4 (1.7)	Look into the report, and alert your supervisor 218 (98.2)
Vignette 3: An inmate on the block tells you that a couple of inmates have been making rude comments about them being gay or lesbian. You should	Counsel the inmate to take care of the problem on their own, otherwise they will look weak in front of others 5 (2.2)	Look into the report, and alert your supervisor 217 (97.6)
Vignette 4: You are working the block and you open a closed closet. You find a corrections officer in there with an inmate. Both the officer and inmate are fully clothed, but they immediately stop talking and exit the area hurriedly. You should	Counsel both that you will not reprimand now, but will write them up next time 15 (6.8)	Alert your supervisor, and separate the staff member and the inmate 207 (93.2)

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Table 4:

Incarcerated Person Responses to Vignettes (n = 490)

Items	Responsesn (%)	Responsesn (%)
Vignette 1: During intake at your institution, you hear an inmate tell a corrections officer “My roommate at the jail I just came from touched me without my permission.” The staff person says, “So? Nothing I can do about that. You’re here now.” The staff person’s response was	Correct under PREA policy 63 (13.1)	Incorrect under PREA policy 417 (86.9)
Vignette 2: An inmate tells a corrections officer that another inmate has threatened to sexually assault them. The officer says, “You know what, you need to take care of this yourself. Otherwise, you’re going to be seen as weak.” The officer’s response was	Correct under PREA policy 54 (11.2)	Incorrect under PREA policy 427 (88.8)
Vignette 3: An inmate in your dorm is being sexually harassed by two correctional officers. The inmate calls *22 to file a report	The inmate has to give his/her name when filing the report 227 (48.2)	The inmate may file the report without disclosing his/her name 243 (51.7)
Vignette 4: Your institution has a policy that requires staff members to announce themselves when they enter the dorms of the opposite gender (e.g., when a female corrections officer enters a mail dorm). Staff must do this	Every time they enter a dorm that houses people of the opposite gender 355 (76.2)	Only first thing in the morning or right before lights out when inmates may be changing clothes or showering 111 (23.8)

Note. PREA = Prison Rape Elimination Act.

For the first two vignettes, 86.9% (417/490) and 88.8% (427/490) of incarcerated person participants selected the option that corresponded to PREA policy. However, for the final two vignettes, only 51.7% (243/490) and 76.2% (355/490) submitted accurate responses. Almost half of all incarcerated members of our wider sample incorrectly believed that they must submit their name when dialing the prison system sexual assault hotline. PREA does not make such a requirement as reports may be submitted anonymously. Furthermore, almost one quarter of these respondents wrongly perceived that correctional staff, when entering an opposite gender dormitory, must announce their presence only when lights are turned off or in the mornings. Instead, PREA mandates that staff announce themselves every single time they enter opposite gender dorms.

Over 97% of correctional staff chose the correct option that matches PREA policy in the first three hypothetical vignettes. A comparatively lower 93.2% (207/222) correct response rate, however, was noted for the fourth scenario. Here, a more ambiguous situation is described involving a co-worker and incarcerated person interaction. This finding requires further investigation as it signifies a “grey area” where sexual violations may be vague. ²

Personal and Social Perceptions of PREA Support

Table 5 contains a frequency distribution of the support questions. Almost 70% (334/490) of incarcerated persons in our sample expressed positive support for PREA. Asked whether they believed others endorsed this policy, just 47% to 56% believed other incarcerated people, staff members, or the Warden supported PREA standards. This indicates that a substantial number of incarcerated respondents did not believe PREA was being supported by correctional staff. On a more interesting note, while a majority 51.6% (253/490) of the incarcerated sample perceived staff to be either unsupportive or neutral toward PREA, 88.3% of staff (196/222), in contrast, actually responded in the affirmative when asked whether they supported this policy. Almost 90%, moreover, judged fellow correctional staff, the Warden, and medical personnel to be supportive of PREA. These findings indicate that while staff perceived the presence of a collective climate of institutional support for PREA, the same could not be said for our incarcerated sample. Interestingly, while most correctional staff perceived other correctional personnel as supportive of PREA, only 65% (144/222) believed that incarcerated people held similar views. Overall, these results suggest a disconnect between perceived levels of support recorded by each of our respective samples.

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Table 5:

Support for PREA

Items	Incarcerated persons (n = 490)			Staff (n = 222)
	Unsupportiven (%)	Neutraln (%)	Supportiven (%)	Unsupportiven (%)	Neutraln (%)	Supportiven (%)
I am personally (blank) of PREA policies	98 (20.3)	51 (10.6)	334 (69.2)	20 (9.0)	6 (2.7)	196 (88.3)
I believe that staff at my institution are (blank) of PREA policies	148 (30.8)	105 (21.8)	227 (47.3)	24 (10.8)	6 (2.7)	192 (86.5)
I believe that the Warden at my institution is (blank) of PREA policies	151 (31.5)	91 (18.9)	237 (49.5)	20 (9.0)	5 (2.3)	197 (88.7)
I believe that medical staff at my institution are (blank) of PREA policies	133 (27.7)	90 (18.8)	256 (53.4)	25 (11.2)	6 (2.7)	191 (86.0)
I believe that other inmates at my institution are (blank) of PREA policies	127 (26.5)	85 (17.7)	268 (55.8)	33 (14.8)	45 (20.3)	144 (64.9)

Note. Valid percentages are reported. Original response options were: 1 = Very Unsupportive of, 2 = Somewhat Unsupportive of, 3 = Neutral, 4 = Somewhat Supportive of, 5 = Very Supportive of. Both of the unsupportive and supportive response categories were, respectively, collapsed to create single response options for each. PREA = Prison Rape Elimination Act.

Discussion

Troubling rates of sexual victimization within correctional institutions have been noted by scholars and practitioners for nearly a century (Davis, 1968; Lockwood, 1980; Struckman-Johnson et al., 1996). Congress in 2003 unanimously ratified the Prison Rape Elimination Act. to serve as a comprehensive policy measure to combat sexual violence across all penitentiaries (Smith, 2020a). Successful enforcement of PREA rests heavily upon the levels of knowledge and support both corrections staff and incarcerated populations have for this law (Rudes et al., 2020). To date, only a handful of studies have empirically examined this topic (Rudes et al., 2020; Smith, 2020a, 2020b). Questionnaires were administered to correctional staff members and incarcerated people housed in three state prisons to ascertain how knowledgeable they each were of PREA mandates, how supportive they were of this legislation and how they would enforce it under certain hypothetical yet realistic situations. These findings may offer insight into how PREA is being implemented within institutional settings, while further contributing to efficacious policy outcomes for the correctional milieu.

Street-level or frontline bureaucrats such as corrections officers wield considerable discretionary authority in their jobs (Ferdik & Smith, 2015; Lipsky, 2010). These individuals can decide to formally reprimand incarcerated people, deny them access to visitations or other privileges, as well as confine them to segregation units (Ferdik & Smith, 2015). When undertaking any of these decisions, effectively staff are enforcing institutional rules. Oftentimes such decisions fall outside administrator oversight, indicating how great autonomy and power are afforded to these frontline personnel. Research on this point from Kolind (2015) found that correctional officers may choose to let certain conduct violations by incarcerated people go unreprimanded because by doing so, this helps to maintain wider institutional safety. Kolind (2015) therefore concluded that even decisions to not enforce certain regulations demonstrate the power and discretionary authority correctional officers (Cos) have at their disposal within institutional confines. Haggerty and Bucerius (2020) added to this by explaining how an officer’s work environment can play a fundamental role in framing how they exercise discretionary-based decision-making authority. It is clear that the manner by which COs perceive their workplace, the incarcerated population, along with other elements of their job, can shape significantly their professional choices. Though COs are employed under highly para-militaristic, total control conditions where even they at times are under scrutiny (Haggerty and Bucerius, 2020), they have much autonomy in their work setting, which can shape the course of policy enforcement.

As indicated throughout this paper, for the PREA policy to be effective, it must be embraced by not just COs, but by members of the incarcerated population too. Successful implementation of PREA within carceral settings requires, as explained by Rudes et al. (2020), an orientation toward addressing sexually based forms of deviance on behalf of both staff and incarcerated people that is in alignment with the PREA philosophy. Absent this, PREA may, as already alluded to, fail to produce intended benefits. Rudes et al. (2020) expanded on this point by explaining how oftentimes “pervasive policy/practice changes may not operate as designed or yield anticipated outcomes” (p. 242). Therefore, for PREA to successfully abolish sexual violence, it requires support and cooperation from everyone within corrections, inclusive of staff, and incarcerated individuals (Smith, 2020a). Both must know what behaviors qualify as sexual violations, be willing to report them to authorities, and perhaps most importantly, establish a tone that sexual abuses will never be tolerated. In light of all of these points, the central aim of this study was to assess the levels of knowledge and support for PREA expressed by a sample of staff and incarcerated people to determine if at least within these facilities, a culture conducive to this policy was present.

Except for one knowledge-based question, all others were correctly responded to by nearly all of our sample members (between 243 and 427 for the incarcerated sample, and between 207 and 218 for staff). Such a finding is encouraging and suggests that the PREA-related training offered by the BJS in conjunction with JDI was effective. Moreover, it signaled that a key component to the success of PREA, staff and incarcerated person knowledge of this legislation, was present among our sample members. Their responses indicated an understanding of this law, which is central to ensuring PREA’s success. However, there were some incorrect responses submitted. As part of the training, participants were taught which behaviors are prohibited under PREA policy. Any sexual contact between corrections personnel and incarcerated individuals is deemed unlawful by PREA. Though accurate replies were submitted to most of the knowledge questions, 64 members of the incarcerated sample incorrectly believed that such contact is actually allowed. If these individuals are unaware of what acts are sanctionable under PREA, this could lead to wider corrections populations going undisciplined if they were to engage in sexual behaviors between one another, higher rates of unreported victimizations, and the improper enforcement of this federal law, among countless other safety concerns (Clark, 1998; Smith, 2020b). It is imperative that incarcerated people know what acts are permitted (or not permitted) within institutions to ensure wider security measures are upheld and to promote the accurate reporting of sexual violence.

A total of 150/222 correctional staff incorrectly believed that incarcerated people are required to participate in investigations following submission of a sexual assault report. PREA prioritizes correctional population welfare by ensuring investigations are conducted in non-intrusive and confidential manners. If staff are requiring incarcerated person involvement when researching sexual assault claims, this could threaten the wellbeing of the reporter by exposing his or her identity to others. By mandating participation, moreover, incarcerated victims of sexual assault may become reluctant to report for fear of reprisal (Rudes et al., 2020). In addition, survivors of sexual assault may be re-traumatized by incorrect PREA processes (Smith, 2020b). This finding indicates that to a considerable extent, knowledge surrounding the implementation of PREA was understood and comprehended by most participants, yet certain elements perhaps require further review.

In terms of behaviors of the incarcerated subset of our sample, a majority correctly responded to two of the vignettes, again signaling that they understood most of the legal parameters of this law, and the circumstances where it applies. However, between nearly one quarter and one half of incarcerated people incorrectly believed that they must disclose their name when filing a sexual assault report, and that staff are only required to announce themselves at certain times (i.e., in the mornings) when entering opposite gender dormitories. PREA, instead, allows for the anonymous submission of sexual assault claims, and mandates that staff announce themselves every single time they enter an opposite gender dormitory. When considering the rather high number of incarcerated people who incorrectly responded to these separate questions, this indicates a need for more PREA-related education. They may benefit from refresher courses regarding these specific areas to which the law applies. As noted above, it is vital that both staff and incarcerated persons understand accurately this law to ensure its effective enforcement. Regarding staff responses, a promising and sizable majority of them submitted accurate replies to each of the four hypothetical scenarios. This offers evidence that perhaps the Demonstration Project Training was effective for them, leading then to our staff members comprehending well this federal legislation.

Finally, and regarding expressed support for PREA, an overwhelming majority of each sample group expressed personal support for this policy. Much like the above noted findings, this is a promising outcome that signals how another element central to PREA’s success, support for the PREA law, was present among our wider sample members. If members of both groups either disapprove of or reject PREA, then the law risks failing to eradicate sexual violence within correctional settings. Evidently within our study at least, a sizable majority of both incarcerated persons and staff expressed support for PREA, which is a positive sign for the success of this law. In terms of whether either group perceived the other as supportive of PREA, these same results were not found, however.

Over half of the incarcerated individuals within our sample did not believe staff were supportive of PREA. Similarly, over one third of staff held the same belief with respect to incarcerated people. This finding suggests that as social distance between actors increases (i.e., moving from perceptions of fellow incarcerated persons toward staff, moving from perceptions of fellow staff members toward incarcerated persons), perceptions of support decreases. Though each believed they were personally supportive, they evidently did not hold the same sentiment with respect to their counterparts. In regards to incarcerated persons appraisals of staff support, Smith (2020b), in his qualitative study of PREA, found that some respondents believed that the implementation of PREA was not being taken seriously by correctional staff. For them, forced lockdowns resulting from a national staffing crisis further limited the reporting of sexual assault, as well as any institutional responses (Smith, 2020b). If incarcerated people in our sample perceived that staff were not taking PREA seriously, then it stands to reason that they would not think they were embracing or supporting this federal law either.

Support may also be influenced by external forces beyond the control of the correctional staff member, or incarcerated person. As reported by Smith (2020b), the perception held by the latter that correctional officers are enforcing excessive lockdowns, dismissing sexual assault claims, and failing to fully investigate reports of sexual abuse, may be an artifact of their perceived belief that staff are unwilling to uphold and endorse PREA. Fundamental attribution error, or correspondence bias, could be accounting for this disconnect as individuals may have a “cognitive bias to assume that a person’s actions depend on what ‘kind’ of person one is rather than on the environmental forces that influence that person” (Tetlock, 1985, p. 228). These respondents may be explaining behaviors as the result of identity characteristics, while failing to account for the totality of why actions occur, which, in turn, could be explaining why these incarcerated respondents perceived corrections personnel as unsupportive of PREA (Tetlock, 1985). Taken in sum, these findings regarding perceived support for PREA lend value to interventions that encourage trust, respect, and accountability between these groups. This may also include education, training, and programmatic interventions that combine correctional staff and incarcerated people in the same classroom (or training academy session).

Before offering any concluding remarks about this study, its methodological limitations must initially be reviewed. First, given the nature of our sample, there is limited generalizability to other correctional populations. Second, and as an extension to this point, response rates between both samples were rather low, suggesting that non-response bias could be affecting our results (Dillman et al., 2014). Given this, we acknowledge the very real possibility that there are considerable differences in the knowledge, support and hypothetical enforcement of PREA between respondents and non-respondents. Although the research staff took careful steps to incentivize participation in the study, including personally visiting on multiple occasions each facility, and emphasizing in detail the ethical principles adhered to by this research, nonetheless between 67% and 85% of potential population members refused to respond to the questionnaire. Had they been included, this could have altered our overall findings. Potential reasons they declined could have included a distrust of academics and research processes, the sensitivity of the research topic, or a fear of repercussions should they reveal how they truly felt about PREA (Finn, 2000). Since so many potential sample members declined invitations to complete the questionnaire, attempts to apply our results to other correctional populations are therefore hindered.

Future scholars interested in expanding this body of work, therefore, may consider adopting improved, or at the very least, alternate means by which to survey incarcerated and corrections staff populations on PREA. Finn (2000) found that when trying to survey these individuals, it was best to do so when presenting oneself as completely and entirely independent of the correctional bureau. This is because of severe concerns staff in particular have of being retaliated against should they ever disclose opinions against their workplace, or opinions on sensitive subjects such as PREA. Authors of the present article were unable to do this as the entire data collection effort required interagency/scholar collaborations regarding the PREA Demonstration Project. Perhaps other academics presenting themselves as independent, third-party researchers may be better able to allay respondent concerns, and incentivize them to participate in studies, as suggested by Finn (2000). Notwithstanding all of these limitations, and given how this is the first study, to the best of the authors’ knowledge, to quantitatively evaluate staff and incarcerated person knowledge and support of PREA, results still offer important points of consideration.

Conclusion

PREA requires that corrections staff and incarcerated persons subscribe to institutional logics that are welcoming of diversity, intolerant of sexual victimization and deviance, and supportive of survivor needs (Rudes et al., 2020). Prior to publication of the 2001 Human Rights Watch Report, it was noted that correctional staff members were largely indifferent, and even insensitive to the special requirements and circumstances of not just all members of the incarcerated population, but also historically marginalized ones in particular, such as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersex, and asexual (LGBTQI+) individuals (Rudes et al., 2020). Findings from the present analysis tend to contradict these assertions. Overwhelmingly both staff and incarcerated people in our study not only signaled adequate knowledge of PREA, but offered large degrees of support for it too. Both are integral to helping to ensure that PREA can succeed at achieving its fundamental goal of eradicating entirely from correctional institutions any and all acts of sexual violence. These findings further suggest that both incarcerated people and correctional staff share collective viewpoints regarding sexual victimization that are in alignment with PREA. Given how both did not believe the other was supportive, however, may signal a need to institute interventions targeted at reducing relational distance between these two key stakeholder groups.