Abstract
This contribution remedies the uncomfortable neglect of Black men’s narrative accounts of their involvement in and out of crime and criminal justice. It describes the intimate stories and insightful ‘silences’ shared with the author by Black British and American men of African descent. Given the substantial over-representation of Black male offenders across the punishment arena (nationally and internationally) Glynn rightly challenges the corpus of work on desistance and seeks to apply a critical race theory (CRT) to the subject area. In so doing he exposes the otherwise ‘invisible’ difficulties Black male offenders face as they seek to move away from crime, and the structural forces which have impacted their life chances over time. He also identifies the blind spots within criminological research that have failed to emphatically address the theoretical and policy-relevant value of Black men’s narratives. This empirical work draws on qualitative data from a discrete sample of adult males from Birmingham, HMP Grendon and Baltimore, USA.
The book—a reflexive enterprise—begins with a short introduction from the author detailing his intentions and experiences as a researcher and activist. This is followed by a conspicuously brief review of the literature and critical race theory. Since this work is a multi-disciplinary project a more expansive appraisal that documented the historical and political antecedents in finer detail (including UK and international writers) would have been fitting. Noticeably absent is a substantive review of the acutely marginalized socio-economic position of Black men in the UK and the USA, which is unfortunate for undergraduate students new to the area. It is also somewhat surprising, given the breadth of writers on ‘the New Jim Crow’ (e.g. Alexander, 2010).
Chapter 3 details the methodology and sample. The participants originate from three distinct sources; 11 men (aged 25–41) mostly former gang members were identified through a variety of organizations and agencies in Birmingham. Ten men (aged 22–51) were interviewed from HMP Grendon (a prison that operates as a drug-free therapeutic community), all of whom had committed serious violent offences (i.e. rape, murder, attempted murder). Finally, Glynn intended to provide an international comparative sample and interviewed or spent time with nine men (aged 19–67) who had a history of gang/drug crime and/or long-term imprisonment who resided in Baltimore (the largest city in the US state of Maryland). The result is a somewhat disparate sample, or more accurately a series of three meso samples, which the author should have recognized will prompt questions—not only on the small numbers but the general sampling frame. The participants incorporated a contrasting range of ages, offending histories, geographic locations and experience of the criminal justice system. Moreover, it is not easy to distinguish who in the sample was actively intending to desist from crime. Typically, sampling decisions in a study of this kind pose a series of important methodological considerations. As such, a thorough discussion on the validity of the conclusions drawn from these abstracted samples should have been included, particularly since this contribution makes clear recommendations on methodology.
Chapter 4 transiently, but helpfully revisits the role of the ‘urban criminologist’ and the author’s emotional responses and epistemological considerations in conducting the study.
Data generated from the three samples are analysed separately in Chapters 5, 6 and 7. Naturally, these chapters are generously interlaced with rich quotes and personally driven stories. They explore the establishment of hyper-masculinities through violence and crime; the secure companionship of gangs; a lack of fathering and Black role models and the alternative forms of social and cultural capital afforded by criminal careers. These data also describe the often painful and demoralizing process of desistance, and the comprehension among the men that routes out of crime are further complicated by their status as Black men. The content of these chapters is important, and it would have been an ideal place to explore some of the regionally specific foundations of the participants’ lives. Clearly these stories—and the author’s intention in retelling them—have both personal and political motivations. These narratives would have been better understood if they were anchored in a geographic and historical context, yet the locational basis of these participants’ lives was distinctly minimized. This is regrettable given the unambiguous contrast between the research sites and the author’s focus on structural racism. Certainly the ways in which racism, crime and marginalization can manifest are often locally propelled; particular spaces can suffer spatial stereotyping and distinct social-economic conditions. Such data, which are normally commonplace in ethnographic-inspired work—as well as work emanating from the CRT field—are essential to an appraisal of the broader subject matter and also allow readers to draw comparisons with other areas (or not).
The culmination of the analysis begins in Chapter 8. Here Glynn focuses on the intersection between crime, Black heritage and masculinity. In summary, Black men whose identities manifest in ‘subordinated’ (economically disadvantaged) or ‘hyper’ (involved in crime/violence) masculinities need to transition towards ‘grounded’ and ‘positive’ masculinities—a process that demands both individual and community responses. While an individual may need to employ new cognitive processes to resolve difficulties in their lives, the community should also facilitate reliable opportunities for him to form meaningful social bonds with others (i.e. finding sustainable employment). Moreover, this transition should take place in a context in which one’s racial history is recognized and celebrated, not obscured from view. Glynn’s scholarship here addresses the lack of attention paid to this disenfranchised group by both the criminal justice system and criminologists who have often overlooked the intersections of race, gender and crime. Notably—despite the lack of detailed regional analysis—Glynn advocates that Black men’s narratives must be understood within a social and cultural context which makes a compelling multi-dimensional framework for examining crime and desistance.
The book ends (Chapters 9 and 10) with a call to arms for researchers, policy makers and Black men themselves. Glynn stresses that collectively we must confront the colour-blindness that has obscured the magnitude and mechanisms of social suffering of Black men in the criminal justice system. He recommends research methodologies which harness and incorporate Black men’s voices via ‘counter-discourses’ such as ‘story-telling, narratives, chronicles and biographies’ (p. 11). He also advocates the adoption of critical race theory as an appropriate theoretical lens for assessing subjective data, such as Black men’s desistance.
While this work represents a significant contribution to the field, in some respects it missed a number of opportunities. As indicated above some key areas were under-developed, the analysis could have delved deeper and made its points more salient given the breadth of data available on racism in criminal justice practice in the UK and the USA. It could have incorporated a stronger regional and political approach to produce a bolder, definitive work on the position of Black men leaving crime. Nonetheless, Glynn’s book does provide a bridge to that definitive work and will be essential (and enjoyable) reading for any students of criminology.