Abstract
Prisons differ. The late-modern prison is neither a generic nor a total institution. Individual prisons can be influenced from without by social, political and cultural change and shifting penal priorities and within by the culture of confinement, internal organizational dynamics, prison rules and adherence to them, prison staff and the prisoner population. Prisoners differ too. They are a diverse group of individuals, in terms of biography, ability, attitudes and even in terms of their common bond, their conviction. They are not a homogenous collective.
Ben Crewe’s book, The Prisoner Society: Power, Adaptation and Social Life in an English Prison, is about life in one prison. It gives readers an insight into the complex and nuanced workings of HMP Wellingborough, a Category C medium-security training prison. However, while this book examines one institution, it is not just about life in Wellingborough prison; it is a superbly written account of prison life that describes the functioning of late-modern English penality. Despite being about one prison in one jurisdiction at a particular period in time, those familiar with prison life will recognize his portrayal, which has resonance far beyond the walls of Wellingborough.
In his Introduction, Crewe laments that despite a number of studies on the experience of incarceration, including prisoner autobiographies, ‘there is little systematic knowledge of how prisoners actively live out their sentences within the constraints of the environment’ (p. 7). The Prisoner Society seeks to fill that gap and help us understand how prisoners do their time. It combines theoretical analysis of late-modern penality with subtle observations and rich narrative from his interviews with prisoners. Chapter 2 sets the scene with a sophisticated yet engaging account of the sociology of imprisonment, the changes in power dynamics in prison in recent decades, and how changing penal strategies impact on a late-modern prison. The following chapter examines how these changes have influenced the development of Wellingborough. The book is particularly interesting when examining power relations, hierarchically between staff and prisoners, officers and management, and horizontally, among prisoners. He considers the penal landscape and late-modern penal power which is now based on inducement and routine rather than mere coercion. He notes that in this new penal age,
prisons are complex, conflicted organizations, whose dynamics are rarely exposed, even though they reveal important dimensions of state practice and authority. Their specific organizational qualities also mould the world of prisoners, and have created the new pains and frustrations. (p. 9)
Among the pains and frustrations of the late-modern prison are the uncertainties of the rearrangement and dispersal of power that has given those with ‘psychological power’ greater influence. Prisoners are no longer sure of their position because ‘the authoritarian prison of the past was oppressive but predictable. In comparison, modern imprisonment was less restrictive but more difficult to navigate’ (p. 109). With the advance of cognitive skills and offending behaviour courses, prisoners who desire to advance their release must be seen to work on their cognitive deficiencies in a way prescribed by those with that power. He notes that prisoners are ‘exhorted to practice their freedom in ways that are defined by the dominant party, but then coercively policed to make sure that they decide to do so. The illusion of pure choice is more obvious’ (p. 143).
Crewe points out that many of the classic prison ethnographies use a minimal amount of prisoner testimony. One of the strengths of this book is the use of prisoner narrative to illustrate his argument. Having spent a long period of time in Wellingborough has paid rich dividends. His interviews suggest that soft power has replaced the hard force of the past. But prisoners are acutely aware of where the power lies. According to Matt: ‘It’s alright having carrots, but there’s no point in having carrots if somebody is behind it with a big stick’ (p. 108). Prisoners understand better than anybody how the changes affect the dynamic within the prison. Darren (p. 109) pointed out that:
[In the past] the rules was tight but at the same time it was relaxed because you knew exactly how far you could go. It’s like getting a piece of elastic band, pulling it, and you know if you pull it a bit further it’s going to snap. [Now] you have the same elastic and pull it and pull it and not know when it’s going to snap.
With the demise of the rehabilitative ideal, secure confinement and protection of the public takes precedence in late-modern penality. However, the rehabilitative mission has not been abandoned. It has changed and now:
has authoritarian as well as humanitarian features. It is more paternalistic than maternalistic, more pushy than caring, and more prescriptive than liberal…it is tight and intrusive, yet in some ways imperceptible; its grip is firm and enduring, yet its character is soft and light; and while its scope is wide, its source is diffuse. (p. 448)
Instead of trying to rehabilitate individuals, the late-modern prison seeks to make them responsible. The objective of rehabilitation has morphed into responsibility. However, the concept of individual responsibility has become desirable in a way defined by the prison.
Utilizing interviews and his observations, Crewe examines a range of issues with prisoners to explore the multiple experiences of prison life which are influenced, not just by the institution, but also by an individual’s outside identity and characteristics. The social structure and prison hierarchy in Wellingborough was shaped by the regime. Because it was Category C, ‘prisoners were all the more reluctant to accrue power conspicuously in case it jeopardised their release’ (p. 256) and they sought to avoid being labelled as ‘trouble-makers’ or ‘bullies’. The role of drugs in prison social life and culture ‘would be difficult to overstate. They were a keystone of public discourse and were repeatedly spotlighted as the engine of social dynamics throughout the prison system’ (p. 370). Highlighting the differences between prisons, he found that it was easier to show kindness and emotion in Wellingborough. He concluded that this ‘pointed to the relatively relaxed atmosphere that staff helped to promote’ (p. 432).
Reflecting their relationship to the institution, Crewe creates a typology of prisoners’ adaptation to the prison. Ranging from the most to the least conformist, he labels them enthusiasts – these accepted the legitimacy of the institution and saw imprisonment as an opportunity for self-improvement and transformation. Pragmatists believed that there was no point in fighting the system, so they keep their head down and wished to do their time quietly. Stoics held much the same view, and as many were life-sentenced prisoners coming towards the end of their sentence, they complied to progress their sentence. Retreatists were highly compliant and had a fatalistic attitude. Players resisted the institutional objectives inwardly but, perceiving that the system could not be overcome, they complied outwardly.
Crewe’s Appendix dealing with the research process could act as guide to anybody new to prison studies. He admits that having entered the prison ‘fairly naively’, he learnt that it was a ‘safe environment, that it was not necessary to clutch my bag tightly, and that the most valuable research tools were sincerity and respect’ (p. 466). These are, perhaps, the most important tools in any research environment. As he sought to distinguish himself as a researcher and academic, Crewe faced the challenge of asserting identity in a closed environment, where boundaries are delineated by both prisoners and staff. He learnt that ‘prisoners are much more likely to open up to people who treat them as equals, but they are all too aware that their relationships with outsiders are fundamentally structured by the essential difference between being captive and being free’ (p. 479). No matter how much the researcher or outside professional attempts to create a space for equality, the bars that keep prisoners locked up will always resonate with the captive. However, Crewe believed, essentially he had a duty to prisoners, ‘to convey their basic humanity’ and represent their experiences as ‘a moral obligation’ (p. 487).
The Prisoner Society provides a strong case for more ethnographic studies of single institutions, which help reveal wider changes in late-modern penality. In July 2012, a number of months after the paperback edition of this book appeared, the then justice secretary, Ken Clarke, announced that Wellingborough was to close by the end of the year. Soon after, Clarke was replaced as justice secretary. Crewe’s scholarship has outlasted both Clarke’s tenure and the existence of the prison. Through his study, he has added to our understanding not just of how prisoners do their time but how the power to punish manifests itself in late-modern society. It is likely this study will outlast the tenure of many more justice secretaries; it may even outlast the prison as a central mode of punishment in late-modern penality. It deserves to.