Moving Toward Utopia

Organizational Identity of Jails

Most of us know that jails confine convicted offenders serving short sentences (usually less than a year), but what many may not realize is that most of the jail’s population (61%) has not yet been either convicted or sentenced (Minton, 2011). After being taken into custody and booked into jail, the courts must determine whether to release suspects outright, impose some type of conditional release, or preventively detain them pending the outcome of their criminal case. Should that outcome result in a sentence of 12 months or less, the offender will again face jail confinement. Thus, jails operate at both the “front end” and the “back end” of the criminal justice system.

Although an understanding of the nature of jails based on their structural position within the local criminal justice system is useful in many ways, it is somewhat incomplete. For one thing, it does not recognize their vast diversity. Jails throughout the United States vary widely in terms of their average daily population, staffing patterns, physical plant, and operational practices (Applegate & Sitren, 2008; Camp & Camp, 2000; Stinchcomb, 2011, pp. 125-32). But even the most accurate description of jails portrays only what they are, not what they are perceived to be. In much the same way that individuals develop a perception of their own persona (i.e., “Who am I?) jails develop a sense of their organizational identity (i.e., “Who are we?”; Ashforth & Mael, 1989). Put another way, organizational identity is a socially constructed, collective understanding of what is essential, unique, and lasting about an organization (Albert & Whetten, 1985; Gioia, Schultz, & Corley, 2000). Thus, jails maintain a sense of what they are as organizational entities. Such organizational identity is significant because it influences the policies, activities, and values of jails. Essentially, organizations tend to pursue issues, adopt policies, and engage in practices that are consistent with their perception of who they are. Conversely, practices that are inconsistent with the shared understanding of an organization’s identity are viewed as “not making sense,” lacking legitimacy for that institution, and, therefore, unlikely to be pursued (Dutton & Penner, 1993; Schein, 2004).

Expanding Organizational Identity

From a utopian perspective, jails would maintain an identity as a correctional institution with an orientation toward human service. Fundamentally, of course, a jail’s primary priority must be custody. It must safely, securely, and legally confine inmates placed under its supervision to assure appearance in court, complete postconviction sentences, or await transfer elsewhere. Beyond custody, however, an organizational image related to broader reformative goals would open possibilities for achieving much more. For example, inmate programming, intervention, and reintegration would become guiding principles rather than secondary (or nonexistent) considerations (Applegate, Davis, Otto, Surette, & McCarthy, 2003; Kifer, Hemmens, & Stohr, 2003).

At least in part, custody tends to supersede more egalitarian objectives as a result of the administrative features of American jails. More than 40 years ago, the President’s Commission on Law Enforcement and Administration of Justice noted the limitation of jails primarily being operated by sheriffs’ offices that also encompass law enforcement duties, to which they often give greater status, resources, and priority. From a self-identity perspective, this has significant repercussions for jails; quite simply, “the police are trained in law enforcement, rather than in rehabilitation” (President’s Commission on Law Enforcement and Administration of Justice, 1967, p. 121). The commission’s recommendation of shifting jails to correctional agencies implicitly recognized that a law enforcement agency’s organizational identity is unlikely to embrace a correctional agenda. In contrast, assisting offenders tends to be a significant component of the self-identity of correctional agencies, thereby making reform-oriented activities a more likely ingredient of their mission.

Professionalizing the Jail Image

Furthermore, the professional image of correctional officers would be enhanced by the adoption of a correctional rather than purely custodial organizational identity. In the manner that jails have operated traditionally, the job of officers has been characterized as “fragmented, routinized, and menial” or as “bureaucratic chores that require little or no judgment, initiative, or skill on the part of the officer” (Zupan & Menke, 1988, p. 615). In contrast, staff in more contemporary direct supervision facilities1 work inside the inmates’ living unit, requiring them to use extensive interpersonal communication skills to manage inmate behavior. In such facilities, “Negotiation and communication become more important than brute strength” (Hughes, 2003, p. 44), and officers have the opportunity to become more engaged, committed, and proactive (Tartaro, 2003; Zupan, 1991). With direct supervision, assignment to a post becomes a “position of choice,” and officers no longer see themselves as “mere guards” or define their job as simply keeping criminals locked up (Wener, Frazier, & Farbstein, 1985, p. 88). As experience with direct supervision illustrates, when the organization takes on a professional identity associated more closely with the complexities of human service than the unidimensionality of confinement, the nature of jail employment similarly expands to embrace a broader vision.

Utopian jails would likewise be prepared to assist with the myriad issues confronting many of those who pass through its gates, including mental and physical health problems, drug and alcohol addiction, residential instability, unemployment, and other life challenges. That is not meant to imply advocacy for converting jails into social service institutions. But in many respects, that is precisely what they have unintentionally become—without either an official mandate or the necessary resources to fulfill their unofficial mission. It has, in fact, long been recognized that jails are repositories for society’s “rabble”—people who are more likely to be socially incompetent or otherwise objectionable than criminally dangerous (Irwin, 1985). As a result, jails are uniquely situated to identify and respond to chronic problems within the surrounding community. Thus, developing stable organizational linkages and collaborative partnerships with external stakeholders to address the widespread needs of the inmate population would be consistent with the positive organizational identity of our utopian jail.

Stakeholder Images and Collaborative Partnerships

Because jails cannot be expected to do all of this alone, a parallel concern involves how they are perceived externally. In that regard, an organization’s image encompasses its fundamental definition as viewed from the outside (Dutton & Dukerich, 1991; Gioia et al., 2000). To achieve utopian status, jails must be viewed as an integral and essential community resource as well as a collaborative partner in the justice system. It is widely recognized that the decisions and policies of other criminal justice agencies determine the flow of cases into and out of the jail (Bureau of Justice Assistance, 2000; Hall, Henry, Perlstein, & Smith, 1985; Moynahan & Stewart, 1980). By the same token, jails have a reciprocal impact on the communities they serve. If that impact is destined to be positive and productive, it is in the interest of every component of the justice system to recognize its symbiotic relationship with the jail and work cooperatively to reduce crowding, case backlogs, inefficient use of resources, and other systemic shortcomings that stifle the jail’s ability to pursue a more progressive agenda. Thus, the utopian jail would be relieved of the fragmentation and interagency competition that have plagued local correctional facilities for decades (Davis, Applegate, Otto, Surette, & McCarthy, 2004; Welsh, 1995), enjoying the image, attention, and priority consistent with its internal human service–oriented identity.

An overarching vision that perceives jails—both internally and externally—as more than warehouses for society’s “rabble” or places to process and temporarily hold pretrial detainees can be transformative as well as reformative. Such an organizational identity encourages more innovative thinking about what can be done for inmates, what can be expected of staff, and what supportive activities are appropriate and legitimate functions for jails. The remainder of this article focuses more specifically on “dreaming big” in terms of just how that might be accomplished.

Operationalizing “Utopia”

Before dreams can be fulfilled, they must be operationalized, and in order to do so, it is instructive to take a closer look at the concept of “utopia”:

Utopia: 1. “A place of ideal perfection, especially in laws, government, and social conditions”; 2. “An impractical scheme for social improvement” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary, 2011).

Although the focus here is on utopian jails, such facilities would presumably be but one feature of an equally utopian community, where, for example, citizens would not be confronted with the distasteful reality of alcoholics, drug addicts, or the undomiciled mentally ill seeking refuge on urban sidewalks. In utopia, however, addressing this challenge is not just a matter of assuring that the “social rabble” does not offend community sensibilities. If the ideal of social justice is to be achieved, it would also mean that incarceration would no longer be an acceptable option in response to homelessness, addictions, or mental health disorders, since “ideal perfection” in terms of public policy would be unlikely to embrace punishment for conditions over which one has little control.

In contrast to such utopian considerations, however, the current reality is that jails have become a veritable “dumping ground” for the mentally ill since the deinstitutionalization of mental health services in the 1960s (Slate & Johnson, 2008; The Sentencing Project, 2002; Torrey, 1997). Certainly, commendable reforms were directed toward eliminating the warehousing of mentally ill populations in large, often abusive and substandard “insane asylums,” where it has been said that “the mean length of stay was twenty years, and the mean type of discharge was a funeral” (Kagan, 1990, p. 166). But not as commendable were the unanticipated consequences of this policy reversal.

The Mentally Ill in Jails

With insane asylums closed but insufficient funds available to construct the more benevolent, community-based outpatient facilities envisioned to meet the needs of the mentally ill, many former patients were forced into the streets. Vulnerable to arrest, the outcome was predictable, resulting in what has become known as the “criminalization” of the mentally ill. Hence, nearly two out of three (64%) of those in jail are experiencing some type of mental health problem (James & Glaze, 2006, p. 1). ² In fact, “the three largest de facto psychiatric facilities in the United States are now the Los Angeles County Jail, Rikers Island Jail in New York City, and Cook County Jail in Chicago” (Faust, 2003, p. 6). As a result, today there are actually more mentally ill people in jails than in mental health hospitals (DiMascio, 1997, p. 22; Maloney, Ward, & Jackson, 2003; Steadman, Osher, Clark Robbins, Case, & Samuels, 2009; Teplin, 1994).

Lacking funds for treatment programs, mental health training for staff, and often even enough space for safe confinement, it is not surprising that as recently as 2008, sheriffs and jail administrators ranked their inability to meet inmate medical and mental health service needs as the greatest challenge they face (Stinchcomb & McCampbell, 2008). Many times, it appears that only a high-profile stream of lawsuits, advocacy activism, and accompanying negative publicity is likely to improve the chances that those with mental illnesses will receive necessary treatment.

Nor do jail staff have any authority to terminate the indiscriminate dumping of the mentally ill into our nation’s jails. Jails cannot refuse to admit anyone who has been legally arrested, mental illness notwithstanding. Although the overall picture is indeed dismal, that is not to say that every community is mired in lethargic inaction. Nor is it to imply that jails can prevail by acting alone. To the contrary, some jurisdictions have begun to recognize the interrelated nature of this dilemma, which embraces virtually all elements of the criminal justice system. It all started in 1987 when the police shot and killed a mentally disturbed person in Memphis, Tennessee.

Crisis Intervention, Criminal Justice Diversion, and Public Awareness

As a result of subsequent expressions of outrage about this incident and concern for more benevolent interventions with such vulnerable populations, crisis intervention training (CIT) for police officers was initiated. The principal focus of CIT is on diverting those with mental health problems from the criminal justice system, and thus, reducing the number of mentally ill people committed to jail as well as taking advantage of treatment alternatives in the community.

It was not long before CIT spread to other communities across the country, expanding to include training sessions related to suicide prevention, substance abuse, mental health issues, interpersonal communication skills, and coordination with relevant community agencies. Efforts are currently expanding to incorporate smaller jurisdictions and to explain to citizens, (whose taxes support the criminal justice system), why CIT is a cost-effective alternative to jail incarceration.

In fact, with regard to addressing the dilemma of the mentally ill, along with those suffering from co-occurring substance abuse disorders, it is a better educated and more empathetic public that is primarily needed. If taxpayers were truly aware of the nature of the situation, along with the disproportionate amount of money that is being expended on secure confinement for those whose needs are more pharmacological than correctional, it may be that utopian visions for jails relinquishing their mental health responsibilities might be achievable.

But until then, an inscription on the wall of the U.S. Department of Justice in Washington, D.C., expresses it well: “Justice in the life and conduct of the state is possible only as it first resides in the hearts and souls of its citizens.” In other words, if the “hearts and souls” of America’s citizens do not embrace concern for more benevolent public policy approaches to the mentally impaired among us, then there is admittedly little hope of achieving a utopian concept of social justice—either for jails themselves or for the thousands of communities in which they reside.

Treatment Programming in Jails

Moreover, if America’s jails are to exhibit the “ideal perfection” exemplified by utopia, it would be difficult to envision doing so without generating commensurate strategies to address the social, psychological, or physical problems that confront their clients. In this section, we therefore focus on expanding the use of jails as a surrogate for ultimately tackling some of our larger social problems, such as poverty, unemployment, and, most specifically, substance abuse.

It is, after all, substance abuse involvement that often brings jail clients into the criminal justice system. For decades, America has waged a “war on drugs.” Drugs won. The United States still consumes some two thirds of the world’s illegal drugs (Califano, 2010, p. i), and except for a brief period in the early 1990s, adult drug arrests have climbed steadily upward since 1970 (Bureau of Justice Statistics, 2011). Nor does that figure include the numerous alcohol-related offenses that likewise bring people to jail. In fact, when statistics for DUI arrests, drunkenness, and liquor law violations are compiled (more than 2.7 million), they far exceed any other offense category (Federal Bureau of Investigation, 2008).

In keeping with America’s enforcement-oriented priorities, spending for treatment and prevention ($632 million dollars) is far outstripped by the $74 billion dollars that it is costing to process these offenders through the justice system (National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse, 2010, p. ii). As Supreme Court Justice Anthony Kennedy starkly observed in this regard, “Our resources are misspent, our punishments too severe, our sentences too long” (Travis, 2005, p. 3).

Thus, it is not surprising to find research clearly demonstrating the lack of treatment programming in correctional facilities in general and in jails in particular (Begun, Rose, & Lebel, 2010; Kelly, 2003). Only about 15% to 17% of inmates receive substance abuse treatment while incarcerated (National Institute of Drug Abuse, 2009; Stanton, Leukefeld, & Webster, 2003). Moreover, although 55% of jails offer some type of educational programming to inmates regarding substance abuse (Koons, Burrow, Morash, & Bynum, 1997), it is often inadequate, since offenders are not usually in jail long enough to be accurately assessed, much less to complete the full duration of a program that is sufficiently extensive to have a lasting impact upon release (Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, 2000).

Yet research suggests that treatment could lead to a significant reduction in criminal behavior, drug abuse, and subsequent involvement in the justice system (Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, 2000). In addition, cost–benefit analysis has determined that the return on investing in treatment may well exceed 12:1; that is, every dollar spent on treatment can reduce future costs by twelve dollars or more in terms of substance-related crimes, criminal justice expenditures, and health care costs (Travis, 2005). Nevertheless, most jails continue to lack sufficient resources to address the substance abuse needs of offenders (Stojkovic, 2005). Utopian jails would correct that public policy deficiency, thereby enhancing their cost-effectiveness.

From Theory to Practice

Even with the necessary resources, however, it is one thing to advocate jail-based substance abuse treatment and quite another to mount effective intervention practices. Indeed, there is often a substantial gap between theoretical conceptualization and pragmatic implementation (Stinchcomb, 2001). In an effort to bridge that gap, Begun et al. (2010) provide a theory-driven operational approach to addressing substance abuse problems among jail inmates. Although their initiative originally emerged from concern for incarcerated women suffering a myriad of problems that remained unaddressed during jail confinement, their research (which is likewise relevant to male populations) ultimately determined that substance abuse was one of the most fundamental as well as frustrating challenges the inmates faced, exacerbated by the availability of extremely limited (or nonexistent) resources. In addition, it was found that jails suffer from a lack of relevant information regarding effective treatment options, since most of the empirical work on this topic has been conducted in prisons. Substance abuse programming in jails, however, is confronted by challenges that are unique to the environment of these local correctional facilities.

First, jail sentences tend to be measured in days, weeks, or months and not in years. As a result, any social service provided tends to be less intense and of limited duration when compared to the potential of prison interventions. Second, the sheer number of people passing through jails can easily become overwhelming in relation to commensurate resources. Such unique realities call for creative strategies involving collaboration through community partnerships, along with evidence-based practices and relevant implementation considerations. Regardless of whether the targeted initiative is substance abuse programming or any other treatment intervention, operationalizing such utopian concepts involves at least five essential elements: political support, organizational accountability, program integrity, resource availability, and subsequent follow-up. These elements are described in detail below. ³

The Jail Workforce

Among the general public, opinions about what constitutes “utopian” jails might well range from models of successful treatment to bastions of secure confinement. Regardless of how punitive one’s attitudes toward inmates might be, however, there is likely to be considerably less disparity in terms of opinions about how jail staff should be treated. Issues such as whether administrators should compensate employees fairly, make objective decisions, or listen to the input of line officers are not nearly as controversial as those related to appropriate inmate interventions.

Moreover, all of the elements of a utopian jail discussed thus far, from improving mental health services to implementing drug treatment programs, essentially depend on a solid foundation of capable staff. For it is those working on the front lines of America’s jails who translate theory, policy, and programmatic goals into operational practices and service delivery. Ultimately, it is their level of professionalism and personal capabilities that can either help or harden an offender, promote or subvert organizational objectives, and strengthen or weaken a jail’s effectiveness. Although jail administrators may be able to muddle along with crowded conditions, insufficient funding, or political setbacks, they “cannot manage without qualified, dedicated personnel” (Stinchcomb, 2011, p. 396).

The Role of Jail Administrators

From the perspective of employees, working in less-than-utopian jails can be a considerable challenge. From dealing with a reluctant and resistive population to being chronically understaffed, underpaid, and inadequately equipped, job-related frustrations can eventually take their toll on dedication and commitment. But confronting these inherent occupational obstacles would be considerably less frustrating within a supportive administrative environment:

It is one thing to persevere in the face of an apathetic public and an unappreciative clientele. But line staff cannot be expected to perform competently in an organizational environment that is plagued with contradictory goals, unclear policies, inequitable rules, inconsistent administrative procedures, or autocratic management techniques. (Stinchcomb, 2011, p. 397)

Although operational staff are charged with direct service delivery, it is jail administrators who set the tone and establish the organizational culture within which these services will be delivered. In that regard, a jail’s cultural climate can be positive, empowering, and productive, or it can be negative, destructive, and counterproductive (Burrell, 2000). Whether jails maintain a traditional environment or embrace a more utopian culture depends on whether the organizational culture

Values initiative and creativity . . . or expects employees to keep a “low profile” and “not make waves.”

Nourishes proactive, visionary thinking and risk-taking . . . or believes that “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

Makes staff proud to be part of the organization . . . or fosters a collection of “woe-is-me” self-anointed victims

Encourages excellence . . . or settles for complacency. (Stinchcomb, McCampbell, & Layman, 2006, p. 17)

How effectively jails address these issues will influence everything from their competitive ability to recruit qualified applicants to the levels of stress, morale, frustration, and job satisfaction experienced by current employees. In fact, even if those nonutopian organizations lacking a view of employees as valued assets manage to recruit well-qualified applicants, high rates of turnover can be expected as new hires quickly discover that they are incompatible with the agency’s culture.

Comparing Administrative and Operational Perceptions

Of course, this does not necessarily mean that all jail employees throughout the organizational hierarchy are united in their views of how jails should be administered. And even to the extent that operational line staff and upper-level administrators may agree more than they disagree about how jails ideally should be administered, they may well exhibit less consensus in terms of the extent to which they view such a utopian state as a reflection of current reality.

In that regard, results of a recent national jail workforce survey (Stinchcomb, McCampbell, & Leip, 2009), revealed that jail administrators and line staff are generally in agreement about the importance of offering fair and competitive compensation, accommodating work assignment preferences, treating employees fairly, and providing some degree of autonomy and decision-making freedom. There is only slightly less consensus about such things as the nature of the work environment, physical facilities, training and promotional opportunities, respect and appreciation, supervisory rapport, and fair grievance and disciplinary processes. However, the greatest differential between line and administrative personnel appears to be in recognizing and listening to employees.

Both line staff and administrators acknowledge that, although jails are a bureaucratically oriented workplace, most of those employed there tend to get along well together and feel appreciated (at least within the organization, if not by the community at large). The greatest differentials between administrators and those farther down the chain of command begin with whether employees are recognized for doing good work, enjoy sufficient upward advancement opportunities, and have a say in “how things are done.” Even greater discrepancies are found in diverse perceptions of fairness in the disciplinary process, how employee grievances are handled, and managerial listening skills. In each of these areas, gaps between staff and administrators are sizeable. In terms of the potential for achieving an administratively “utopian” jail, such significant discrepancies are somewhat disturbing. That is the bad news. The good news is that they are all amenable to change—and at very little, if any, cost.

Implications for a Utopian Jail

The national jail survey findings described above indicate considerable consensus among operational staff and administrators in terms of what might constitute a “utopian” organizational environment. Yet operational and managerial staff were in considerably less agreement with regard to their personal perceptions of the extent to which such utopian attributes are reflective of contemporary conditions in American jails.

In terms of addressing this apparent discrepancy, progress is not likely to be achieved simply by conducting more research in a fruitless effort to determine which side is “right” or “wrong.” That is because perceptions are reality in the eye of the beholder, which means that the same administrative actions or organizational conditions may be viewed in a completely different light, depending on one’s perceptual “lens” and position in the organizational hierarchy. The question is therefore not whether line staff perceptions are more or less accurate than those of upper-level administrators; rather it is about what can be done to correct either operational misperceptions or organizational mismanagement.

The potential answers are limitless, ranging from improved system-wide communication to more participatory decision making, employee involvement in policy development, explanation of administrative actions, efforts to reward line staff, and so on (see, for example, Branaham, 2001; Dennis, 1998; Dial, Thompson, & Johnson, 2008; Kaye & Jordan-Evans, 1999; Kimball & Nink, 2006; Kouzes & Posner, 1999; Nelson, 2005; Smith, 2001). Most notably, however, addressing these organizational issues does not involve the substantial funding that would be necessary, for example, to convert jails into multifaceted mental health and substance abuse treatment centers. Indeed, it could be accomplished with virtually no fiscal investment. To the contrary, it is only managerial commitment to creating a more “utopian” workplace that is necessary. But that would require acknowledging administrative shortcomings, which may be too high a price to pay.

Conclusion

Throughout history, jails have struggled with ambiguous roles that have never been well defined (Applegate et al., 2003; Kerle, 2003; Stinchcomb, 2011; Thompson & Mays, 1991), and, as a result, society has maintained both widely varying perspectives of their functions and unrealistic expectations of their capabilities. In this article, we have advocated an expanded organizational identity for achieving utopian jails that would embrace a new mission involving everything from mental health services to substance abuse treatment. Before embarking on such utopian destinations, however, there is a concept from the military and the community policing literature that may be equally instructive for jails.

Known as “mission creep” (Fisher-Stewart, 2007, pp. 10-11), it describes the gradual expansion of goals to embrace areas previously outside of one’s scope of responsibility, particularly in terms of expecting more than is realistic, given existing resources and capabilities. To the extent that jails have been unwittingly left with unfunded de facto mandates to address their clients’ untended social, physical, or psychological problems, it is not surprising to find jails suffering from this condition. In fact, perhaps the greatest difference between mission creep and the utopian jails discussed herein is not so much in the expanded mission that both would encompass but rather, doing so in a manner that is more deliberately proactive and strategically driven, in accordance with both a renewed organizational identity and a full awareness of the potential pitfalls involved.

Regardless of the extent to which our “utopian” jails reinvent themselves in a manner embracing the broader social service mission discussed herein, there will always be a need for qualified, professional staff. That is because it has always been the dedicated commitment of capable employees that has enabled jails to function in the face of “inadequate resources, insufficient public support, and involuntary clientele” (Stinchcomb, 2011, p. 494). Although professionalizing staff would doubtless be a component of a utopian vision of America’s jails, doing so calls for the same introspective organizational soul searching that is equally necessary for enhancing the jail’s vision and mission. Whether applied to organizations refocusing their mission or the employees expected to fulfill it, in both cases, professionalism is not something that can be mandated or forced into practice. To the contrary, “it is a calling rather than a job . . . not something with which to comply, but rather, to be committed to” (Stinchcomb, 2000, p. 18).

Integrating these far-reaching goals into the jail’s fundamental organizational identity and devoting commensurate attention to those charged with achieving such goals call for farsighted leadership. Indeed, it is difficult to imagine a point in time when jails were in greater need of proactive, visionary leaders, for the conceptual ideal of utopian jails cannot begin to be translated into reality without it. Whether jails are destined to remain mired in the quicksand of traditional practices or whether they will be uplifted toward solid grounding in a more utopian future will largely be determined by the next generation of leaders. And there is no one with a greater stake in their leadership capabilities than each and every one of us . . . and our children . . . and grandchildren. In the long run, future generations will judge us not by what obstacles we have faced today but rather “by what opportunities we have or have not seized today to shape tomorrow’s destiny—for destiny is not a result of chance, but a reflection of choice” (Stinchcomb, 2011, p. 496).