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Guest Piece
Dignity and Justice: The Rise of the Machine
Published on April 30, 2023 by Jonathon, a former resident of HMP
This blog is about civic dignity and the justice system. In deciding what to write, I thought I’d ask ChatGPT, the AI ChatBot (weird, wonderful and inherently terrifying) to ask what it thinks (sic) about justice and dignity. It gave me a useful, learned and insightful response (that’s what is so scary) including the following definitions:
On Justice: Justice is a concept that encompasses fairness, equity, and the principle of upholding what is right and lawful. It refers to the idea that individuals and communities should be treated fairly and impartially, without discrimination or prejudice.
On Dignity: Dignity is a concept that refers to the inherent worth and value of every human being, regardless of their background, abilities, or circumstances. It is the idea that every person has the right to be treated with respect, fairness, and compassion.
It’s important to notice that the word “treated” appears in both. It suggests that both justice and dignity require a proactive relationship between at least two people. And that relationship, if it is to be based on those definitions, requires a start point of fairness, without preconception or prejudice.
But what happens when we unpick the definitions and relate them generally to today’s society and specifically to our justice system? It is then that these two examples of societal bedrock start to become a bit hazy.
An observation is that much of the information we consume in news and social media, whether that is about the law, celebrity or ‘normal’ every-day life shows us becoming more vengeful as a society and finding someone else to blame. We are making an art-form of abrogating personal responsibility and living in a world where “It’s not my fault.” So right off the bat societal evolution is currently at odds with the ChatBot definitions of fairness, equity and upholding what is both right and the rule of law.
Progressively we live in a world where we struggle with trust. As soon as society stops taking personal responsibility it makes trusting institutions such as the government and police force problematic. If justice and dignity are built around proactive relationships but the start point is blame-oriented and founded in a default lack of trust, how can we expect to respect the base concepts? Relationships in which people treat others fairly and impartially, without discrimination or prejudice and with respect, fairness, and compassion are, by their very nature, not those based on vengeful blame but on trust and acceptance.
Our ChatBot and its definitions are in trouble here. A non-trusting and blame-led society creates polarisation of thinking which in turn foments prejudice and discrimination against individuals. Atop that, the conflation of blame with raw vengeance, as is so often seen in our mainstream and social media, and which is so often dressed up as a search for “justice”, ends up being nothing of the sort and at complete odds with the original definitions.
Personally, I think the word justice has lost meaning and with it, credibility. Too often it is a nebulous entity, sought without any set parameters or definition and with scant if any acceptance of the frailties of causal process, statute or personal error, all of which, by their nature, are inherently imperfect. There is rarely a tangible point of satisfaction which can be reached and the search itself becomes an incessant need for the seekers of justice to maintain negative emotions rather than move forward and bring closure through acceptance that justice, as defined, has been served.
Our Justice System itself is an easy target for this approach and has the most opportunity for the content and philosophy of both definitions to be skewed or in some cases brushed aside. It is popular in society and progressively within the Justice System for punishment to outweigh rehabilitation. The prison system leverages the trust issue to become progressively more punitive and the inherent vengeance in society seeks to destroy the dignity of individuals caught up in it, from the very basic infrastructure of our prisons, to overcrowding, violence and diminished access to rehabilitative resources.
The prevalent culture not only eats into peoples’ ability to be productive and proactive, but also impacts personally with everyone involved, from the offender to police and prison staff and through the judiciary. It is directly at odds with the treatment concept laid out in their definitions, that both dignity and justice demand.
When ‘debating’ the point of justice and dignity with ChatGPT, I asked it how we can rebuild trust and dignity in the UK justice system. It proffered several suggestions, including focusing on transparency, accountability, diversity, training and modernisation. Those five areas have long been at the forefront of advocacy, to some effect, and continue to be driven by those seeking progressive change. Such effort should be supported.
Perhaps the two most differentiating points are those of improved community involvement and, most importantly, restorative justice. The latter, controversial, progressive and far more prevalent outside the UK, focuses on the harm that offences cause and offers support for the victim together with the offender rather than merely punishment. Both have a foundation in respect, in fairness, and in compassion. And most importantly, they both engender a proactive relationship where two parties treat each other in a relationship based on trust.
Maybe we can learn from even the rudimentary AI exhibited by the ChatGPT bot some signposts as to how to move our broken system forwards. Ironically, it seems that as it comments on a system created and broken by society, a machine intelligence is better at telling us what we should do to move forwards than we are ourselves.
We are not yet in thrall to Terminators, but Sarah Connor’s epilogue in T2 seems like a good place to end:
“The unknown future rolls toward us. I face it for the first time with a sense of hope, because if a machine can learn the value of human life, maybe we can, too.”
What do you think about voting rights for prisoners? Go to the poll and share your opinion.
Guest Piece
Anarchy in the UK
Published on March 20, 2023 by Jonathon, a former resident of HMP
If you’ve watched Holly and Phil, or Sam, Gethin and Dr Ranj on morning TV, you’ll have been gripped by discussion about the BBC’s latest blockbuster, Parole. It’s a programme which, in 59 minutes, “takes the lid off the workings and mystery of the Parole Board” and which “lets you decide“. The Open University is using it to flog its criminology courses and the Daily Mail gives it a disappointing three out of five stars for ‘entertainment’.
On the face of it, if ever there were to be a more damning indictment of our hopelessly and catastrophically broken justice system, I don’t know what it would be. How can the complexities and intricacies of an individual’s psyche, a) be summed up in 59 minutes and b) ever be seen as entertainment? It looks as though by sensationalising the parole process, it undermines justice for all.
The BBC positions the programme based on information sharing. And here it gets a bit more interesting. If, as is patently the case, there is a lack of public trust over institutions such as the Parole Board, not helped by random interventions by the Justice Secretary (and his predecessors) how can the damage that the mistrust brings be minimised? One way is to open it up for all to see to demystify it. Maybe that is what Parole is all about.
There are 346 members of the Parole Board, all experienced and trained to understand the process and to navigate the nuances of psychological profiling as it pertains to risk analysis for an individual return to society. They work on a court-like basis as anyone who has seen the programme will know. And their decisions are difficult and complicated, working with a formalised risk structure overlaid by an emotive societal response to victims and crime itself.
Given that various Justice Secretaries have jumped in and undermined the Parole Board by taking their own decisions, most notably David Gauke with John Worboys (which forced the Chairman of the Parole Board to resign) and Dominic Raab with Baby P’s mother, the institution is ripe for change. The fact that no-one knows what that change might look like suggests that the current approach might just be the ‘best worst case’ and thus the open-book approach might be a good thing.
Whatever the motivation, what is patently happening is yet further descent by the UK media into anarchy. That’s an emotive word to use but is pertinent given its definition as, “Absence of any form of political authority”. How much less political (i.e., structured, legal) authority is there than a prime-time TV show which “lets you [the viewer] decide” and pass judgment on the fate of an individual and the veracity of a fundamental legal institution all in the space of 59 minutes of edited TV?
The frailties of the Parole Board are just one example of the serious structural problems inherent in our criminal justice system. They range from sentence length to human rights violations in our crumbling, understaffed and under-resourced prisons. Against this situation, our society demands basic dignity for individuals, and it behoves the Justice System to provide the tools necessary to cope in society just as it behoves society to offer acceptance and reintegration to enable lives to be rebuilt.
In practice the combination of a broken justice system and an ever-more judgmental society impedes the prospects for released individuals to face significant barriers to inclusivity and to, in many cases, be deprived of their basic dignity.
A core issue is the widespread reporting of case details, which means that once convicted an individual is socially branded by search engine and social media alike. In times past, convictions became “spent” after a set period. With Google, that will never be the case. All convictions are for life. Bang go job prospects, personal and family relationships, home and car insurance, and any sense of personal peace.
If someone’s life is available as voyeuristic entertainment and the Goggleboxers are encouraged to cast their own judgment on individuals based on 59 minutes of edited primetime TV, how can there ever be clarity of justice? How can it be defined? Is it my justice or your justice, because progressively it doesn’t seem to be the common sort that we used to call and accept as the law?
As the Court of Public Opinion accedes to the highest seat of justice in the land, the emphasis moves from communication and consumption of the truth to drama and sensationalism. The individual, their humanity and dignity are left in the wake of a ‘good read’. And once the damage has been done, social media and search engines leave it raw and exposed for ever more. If ever there was an assault on human dignity it is there for all to see. And crime is ripe for this situation. After all, true crime sells.
The backdrop is that there are nigh on 85,000 people in prison and a further quarter of a million on probation. Philosophically all those people are rehabilitating. In reality, for those trying to get a life back on track, there is little hope and little meaning. There is no dignity. There is no justice served. It doesn’t mean rehabilitation. It doesn’t mean integration. It doesn’t mean citizenship. What it does mean is a life of permanent, unremitting punishment, regardless of the crime or length of the sentence.
We face a justice system which is being eroded at the altar of entertainment. We face absence of political authority in all its manifestations. Our society encourages sensationalism, for everyone to know everything about everybody and to cast judgment based on ‘personal truth’. In that environment, what price, as an ex-offender, basic dignity, or anything close to the fundamental definition of human rights “… to include the rights to life, liberty, equality, … freedom from … torture, and freedom of thought and expression”.
Anarchy it is then.
What do you think about voting rights for prisoners? Go to the poll and share your opinion.
Guest Piece
Selective Democracy
Published on March 14, 2023 by Mort Orrecchio, a former detainee in our apology for a prison system
I’m confused. The fudge job that David Lidington did in 2017 to appease the bureaucrats in Brussels regarding UK voting rights for incarcerated prisoners loosened the blanket ban by allowing those on Release on Temporary Licence (RoTL) to vote. Does that mean that those serving time in open conditions who have home leave on RoTL – five days as part of the HMPPS ‘rehabilitation’ programme – during which there is an election, can turn up and place their cross in the box? And if not, why not?
Yes, OK. It is a somewhat ridiculous scenario, but it highlights the overall ridiculousness of the voting rights situation for prisoners. Either we live in a democracy in which universal suffrage is an immovable foundation or we don’t. You can’t be half-pregnant, although when it comes to prisoners’ voting rights, that appears to be Government policy.
I’d ask one question: If those who have been caught and convicted are not worthy of a vote, what makes those with whom we all rub shoulders in Sainsbury’s who are in the ‘offenders but not yet caught’ category eligible? If the differentiator is criminality, shouldn’t anyone who has ever been done for speeding, had a parking ticket or spent a night in a cell sleeping off the effects of drink or drugs (personal use only) be excluded?
The extremes underline the farce. And they underline the real issue at hand – our attitude to criminality. Forged in a sensationalist media, both mainstream outlets and increasingly on social media platforms, we have lost any definition of justice, any acceptance that Criminal Law and the Sentencing Guidelines are our Justice System and appreciation of what is right and wrong. Google ensures that all sentences are life sentences.
We’ve lost the plot. The underfunded and undermanned police force spend half their lives worrying about what happened 50 years ago and budgets are tied up in endless enquiries into stuff that can’t now be proven as everyone involved is either do-lally or dead. Criminality is a way of life. Speeding, a ‘recreational’ cocaine habit, fiddling Universal Credit, and carrying a knife ‘for protection’ are all pretty normal. That is our society and what comes with it is hatred and prejudice, proliferated on social media. Given that bleak scenario, the last thing we need is Government policy to undermine the little base of civic structure that we have left viz. democracy and universal suffrage.
Who is going to put themselves forward and reform the system? No, I can’t think of anyone either. God forbid a politician supporting anything that might be perceived as a vote-loser in an era of personality-based politics. I just can’t see it happening.
So we mooch along patting ourselves on the back for keeping 83,000 people in a decaying and broken prison system that offers no hope of rehabilitation and costs over £18bn per year in re-offending. If we are happy with that, we are happy with selective democracy. That’s a nasty slope down which to be sliding and can only end in a Huxleyan Brave New World.
What do you think about voting rights for prisoners? Go to the poll and share your opinion.
Guest Piece
Civic Redemption?
Published on July 26, 2022 by Edward
I hope these comments on disenfranchisement, or ‘civil death’, will help to encourage a wider public debate on prisoner voting rights and the broader inclusion of people in civic and political life.
The subject of disenfranchisement has been of particular concern to me since my conviction and imprisonment over four years ago, and I appreciate the innovative approach that is being taken to stimulate a debate through creative works. For nearly twenty years, I was a town councillor and regularly took part in local and national elections, so my exclusion from the democratic process and having my status as a citizen diminished as a result of my conviction, was especially painful for me. Furthermore, the feeling of being excluded from my community for a period of two and a half years, with all the effects that the lack of respect and recognition had on my self-esteem, as well as the loss of equal political standing with other citizens, has had a detrimental impact on my ‘rehabilitation’ since release due to a persistent sense of exclusion from the life of the wider community.
My experience of both the prison service and the criminal justice system, including time spent on bail for over two years before my conviction, has certainly given me a unique perspective on the question of ‘civil death’ and being kept out of civic and political life. During my time in prison, the topic of disenfranchisement was often a focus of discussion, particularly with several of my fellow inmates who had also served in elected positions or believed strongly in the importance of enfranchisement as a key part of the rehabilitation process. None of our views were much different from the majority of contributors to publications such as Inside Time, and reflected many of the sentiments of those campaigning for reform of the system.
As one of those regarded by the present Justice Secretary as ‘beyond redemption’,* and therefore is finding it much harder to secure employment and reintegrate back into the community than many other ex-offenders, I believe it is even more important that the voices of people with similar lived experience are heard and encouraged to add to discussions about disenfranchisement, prisons and the criminal justice system within our society. How are any of us expected to make new lives for ourselves outside prison and contribute positively as responsible citizens, if the State starts out by removing our civic rights and excluding us from a key aspect of community life? I firmly believe in universal suffrage, which has been hard-fought for over the centuries, and can see no reason why this right is withdrawn from citizens simply because they are sent to prison. The present arrangement in the United Kingdom is clearly unsustainable, as it violates not only every tenet of democracy, but also perpetuates an archaic system of criminal justice which keeps punishing people long after their conviction. In many respects, it puts me in mind of the fundamental contradiction at the heart of the British Empire, with England seen by reformers such as John Bright as ‘the mother of parliaments,’ yet at the same time denying democratic freedoms to many of those subject to British colonial rule overseas. Similarly, our current elected representatives perpetuate a system which strips people of many of their rights and responsibilities as active citizens, whilst at every turn extolling the virtues of living in a supposedly free, liberal democracy. We were often told in prison that the judgement handed down by the court was our punishment, and serving a prison sentence was the first part of our ‘rehabilitation’. Yet the State perpetuates our punishment, and in fact worsens it, by removing our right to vote and turning us into non-citizens without responsibilities, thereby preventing many of us from being able to contribute in any meaningful way to the government of our country.
What are my thoughts about the future and whether there can be any resolution to this sorry state of affairs? Sadly I am pessimistic about any reversal in the current position on disenfranchisement, despite positive changes in some areas to move away from an excessively punitive model towards a more enlightened and inclusive stance which recognises the fundamental human rights of active citizens. Sadly, the reluctance of Westminster politicians to even contemplate any voting reform begs another question as to why there is such little interest in restoring civic dignity to prisoners and to see that one of the best ways of reintegrating prisoners back into society is not to exclude them from the democratic process in the first place. Perhaps MPs fear that if prisoners are given the vote then they might need to work harder to secure their support, or prisoners’ votes might just sway the results one way or the other in some of their marginal constituencies. Alternatively, our elected representatives might be apprehensive about resolving the voting rights issue as it may expose the present arrangement to unpalatable public scrutiny as it rises up the political agenda, along with overdue reforms of the courts, police and the prison service. Many MPs, I am certain, dread vilification by political and social commentators, particularly in several of our newer right-wing media outlets, if they even dare to mention the possibility of reform. Either way, the unwillingness of our national politicians to contemplate voting rights reform illustrates how little interest there is in tackling the massive, expensive problem of reoffending rates or creating a criminal justice system fit for a 21stcentury democracy. For me, the enfranchisement of prisoners would be the first important step on the road to reforming a system which is an affront in a truly democratic society, as it would provide those serving prison sentences with another vital incentive to remain part of their home communities and to take responsibility for turning their lives around after release.
* Interview in The Daily Telegraph, 5 February 2022.
What do you think about voting rights for prisoners? Go to the poll and share your opinion.
Guest Piece
It is an Old Story by now ... or is it?
Published on June 9, 2022 by Bethany Schmidt
Check out this blog post I wrote for Unlock! The piece draws attention to recent enfranchisement reforms in Scotland and Wales, and considers public attitudes toward prisoner voting rights.
Unlock is a UK-based charity that supports and advocates for people with criminal records to be able to move on positively in their lives. Their website is full of useful tips, guidance, and resources for professionals and those with lived experience of the criminal justice system.
What do you think about voting rights for prisoners? Go to the poll and share your opinion.
a global view
international differences in prisoner disenfranchisement
Published on May 14, 2022 by Bethany Schmidt
What do prisoner voting rights look like in other countries? International disenfranchisement policies present a complex and highly varied picture. Chris Uggen and his colleagues (2009) examined differences in how countries exclude or include prisoners and former prisoners in the electorate. Their primary findings indicate that the simple presence of democratic governance does not guarantee that prisoners will be granted voting rights – like in the case of the United States or United Kingdom, for example. Their analysis suggests that economic development, as well as political development, is closely linked to the enfranchisement of prisoners. The map below is a visual representation of Uggen et al’s survey of international differences. The data, as you can see, is incomplete and now over a decade old – some legislation has changed since this study. Nonetheless, this offers an informative illustration that highlights how enfranchisement practices across the globe are not necessarily straightforward or predictable.
Map source: Uggen et al (2009: 62)
Further to the Uggen study, I have cobbled together a more detailed and updated list of countries that offer some prisoner voting rights. It is clear there is little uniformity when comparing regulatory legislation versus judicial discretion, or in how disenfranchisement becomes related to the offence. For some nations, like Germany, Norway, and Portugal – only very specific ‘political’ crimes that target the state or democratic order would result in a ban from voting. In other countries, like Cyprus, Bulgaria, and Romania, most prisoners remain enfranchised unless otherwise decided by a judge. This is similar to France, where disenfranchisement is an additional penalty to be imposed as part of the sentence only when it is viewed as proportionate to the offence.
International prisoner voting rights
Little uniformity, some judicial discretion, and sometimes related to the offence*
Albania – all prisoners
Bosnia – all prisoners (unless war crimes)
Bulgaria – up to judge
Canada – all
Croatia – all
Cyprus – most + judge
Czech Rep. – all
Denmark – all
Finland – all
France – offence related
Germany – offence related
Greece – some bans
Iceland – offence related
Ireland – all
Israel – all
Kenya – all
Latvia – all
Lithuania – all
Malta – sentence > 1yr
Macedonia – all
Montenegro – all
Netherlands – up to judge
Norway – offence related
Pakistan – all
Poland – up to judge
Portugal – offence related
Romania – most + judge
Serbia – all
Slovakia – all
South Africa – all
South Sudan – all
Spain – all
Sweden – all
Switzerland – all
Ukraine – all
These differences are not insignificant. It is evident that several countries explicitly use disenfranchisement as punishment. Ewald and Rottinghaus (2009: 12) point out that “this has important implications for how and on whom the sanction is imposed”. They go on to note that because prisoners retain the right to vote in many countries, this suggests “that in those nations, disenfranchisement is not seen as an efficacious way to accomplish either punitive or regulatory purposes”. This begs the perennial question: what exactly is accomplished when prisoners are barred from voting?
In recent years, some countries have begun to think differently about the status of prisoners and how that status relates to state-building or rebuilding and shaping their nation’s future. Two notable cases are Kenya and South Sudan, where prisoners were given the right to vote in special elections. It appears that some of the motivation and acceptance for opening up the debate has been tethered to momentous referendums. In Kenya, prisoners were first enfranchised in order to participate in their 2010 referendum to approve a new constitution and in South Sudan prisoners first gained the right to vote to determine whether the region should remain a part of Sudan or become independent in 2011 (this is similar to what occurred in Scotland, though with less success).
Being excluded from voting, as one prisoner explained to me, “is not just about voting, is it? It’s about not belonging – about society rejecting you”. This is acutely felt in the United States, which has some of the most severe, exclusionary, and expansive disenfranchisement policies in the world. The US also has the highest incarceration rate in the world. In most countries, voting rights are restored once a person is released from prison. In the US, however, a felony conviction can result in extended disenfranchisement even after release and sometimes permanently for life. Voting policies vary considerably by state. Only Maine and Vermont allow all prisoners to vote.
There are numerous and serious consequences associated with such restrictive practices. Disenfranchisement has a disproportionate impact on communities of colour. According to Chung (2021: 2), “Black Americans of voting age are nearly four times as likely to lose their voting rights than the rest of the adult population, with one of every 16 Black adults disenfranchised nationally”. Governance structures are likely to become less representative as more people are excluded or discouraged from participating – elections can therefore become skewed due to the absence of some voices. This really matters when local decisions are made about resource allocation, schools, housing, or business issues. Feeling unrepresented or misrepresented tends to increase citizen apathy and withdrawal from wider political processes.
This discussion raises several critical questions:
- How do we make sense of such varied international differences? Are they arbitrary or meaningful differences?
- Could disenfranchisement be related to levels of inequality? Might disenfranchisement perpetuate inequality?
- What does prisoner disenfranchisement achieve?
- Is political disenfranchisement a reasonable or proportionate extension of the deprivation of liberty?
- Do countries with more inclusive enfranchisement policies have better outcomes (like lower reoffending rates)?
What do you think about voting rights for prisoners? Go to the poll and share your opinion.
References
- Chung, J. (2021) ‘Voting Rights in the Era of Mass Incarceration: A Primer’.
- Ewald, A.C. and Rottinghaus, B. (eds.) (2009) Criminal Disenfranchisement in an International Perspective. New York: Cambridge University Press.
- Uggen, C., Van Brakle, M. and McLaughlin, H. (2009) ‘Punishment and Social Exclusion: National Differences in Prisoner Disenfranchisement’, in A.C. Ewald and B. Rottinghaus (eds.) Criminal Disenfranchisement in an International Perspective (pp. 59-75). New York: Cambridge University Press.
- For more information on prisoner voting rights in the US, refer to The Sentencing Project.
* Disclaimer: This was a well-intentioned effort to gather information not easily obtained. I have done my best to crosscheck these details. However, I admit that this is a simplified portrayal of complex legislation and may be outdated or not wholly accurate. Let me know if you have additional material related to your country.
Guest Piece
Dignity and Justice: The Rise of the Machine
Published on April 30, 2023 by Jonathon, a former resident of HMP
This blog is about civic dignity and the justice system. In deciding what to write, I thought I’d ask ChatGPT, the AI ChatBot (weird, wonderful and inherently terrifying) to ask what it thinks (sic) about justice and dignity. It gave me a useful, learned and insightful response (that’s what is so scary) including the following definitions:
On Justice: Justice is a concept that encompasses fairness, equity, and the principle of upholding what is right and lawful. It refers to the idea that individuals and communities should be treated fairly and impartially, without discrimination or prejudice.
On Dignity: Dignity is a concept that refers to the inherent worth and value of every human being, regardless of their background, abilities, or circumstances. It is the idea that every person has the right to be treated with respect, fairness, and compassion.
It’s important to notice that the word “treated” appears in both. It suggests that both justice and dignity require a proactive relationship between at least two people. And that relationship, if it is to be based on those definitions, requires a start point of fairness, without preconception or prejudice.
But what happens when we unpick the definitions and relate them generally to today’s society and specifically to our justice system? It is then that these two examples of societal bedrock start to become a bit hazy.
An observation is that much of the information we consume in news and social media, whether that is about the law, celebrity or ‘normal’ every-day life shows us becoming more vengeful as a society and finding someone else to blame. We are making an art-form of abrogating personal responsibility and living in a world where “It’s not my fault.” So right off the bat societal evolution is currently at odds with the ChatBot definitions of fairness, equity and upholding what is both right and the rule of law.
Progressively we live in a world where we struggle with trust. As soon as society stops taking personal responsibility it makes trusting institutions such as the government and police force problematic. If justice and dignity are built around proactive relationships but the start point is blame-oriented and founded in a default lack of trust, how can we expect to respect the base concepts? Relationships in which people treat others fairly and impartially, without discrimination or prejudice and with respect, fairness, and compassion are, by their very nature, not those based on vengeful blame but on trust and acceptance.
Our ChatBot and its definitions are in trouble here. A non-trusting and blame-led society creates polarisation of thinking which in turn foments prejudice and discrimination against individuals. Atop that, the conflation of blame with raw vengeance, as is so often seen in our mainstream and social media, and which is so often dressed up as a search for “justice”, ends up being nothing of the sort and at complete odds with the original definitions.
Personally, I think the word justice has lost meaning and with it, credibility. Too often it is a nebulous entity, sought without any set parameters or definition and with scant if any acceptance of the frailties of causal process, statute or personal error, all of which, by their nature, are inherently imperfect. There is rarely a tangible point of satisfaction which can be reached and the search itself becomes an incessant need for the seekers of justice to maintain negative emotions rather than move forward and bring closure through acceptance that justice, as defined, has been served.
Our Justice System itself is an easy target for this approach and has the most opportunity for the content and philosophy of both definitions to be skewed or in some cases brushed aside. It is popular in society and progressively within the Justice System for punishment to outweigh rehabilitation. The prison system leverages the trust issue to become progressively more punitive and the inherent vengeance in society seeks to destroy the dignity of individuals caught up in it, from the very basic infrastructure of our prisons, to overcrowding, violence and diminished access to rehabilitative resources.
The prevalent culture not only eats into peoples’ ability to be productive and proactive, but also impacts personally with everyone involved, from the offender to police and prison staff and through the judiciary. It is directly at odds with the treatment concept laid out in their definitions, that both dignity and justice demand.
When ‘debating’ the point of justice and dignity with ChatGPT, I asked it how we can rebuild trust and dignity in the UK justice system. It proffered several suggestions, including focusing on transparency, accountability, diversity, training and modernisation. Those five areas have long been at the forefront of advocacy, to some effect, and continue to be driven by those seeking progressive change. Such effort should be supported.
Perhaps the two most differentiating points are those of improved community involvement and, most importantly, restorative justice. The latter, controversial, progressive and far more prevalent outside the UK, focuses on the harm that offences cause and offers support for the victim together with the offender rather than merely punishment. Both have a foundation in respect, in fairness, and in compassion. And most importantly, they both engender a proactive relationship where two parties treat each other in a relationship based on trust.
Maybe we can learn from even the rudimentary AI exhibited by the ChatGPT bot some signposts as to how to move our broken system forwards. Ironically, it seems that as it comments on a system created and broken by society, a machine intelligence is better at telling us what we should do to move forwards than we are ourselves.
We are not yet in thrall to Terminators, but Sarah Connor’s epilogue in T2 seems like a good place to end:
“The unknown future rolls toward us. I face it for the first time with a sense of hope, because if a machine can learn the value of human life, maybe we can, too.”
Guest Piece
Anarchy in the UK
Published on March 20, 2023 by Jonathon, a former resident of HMP
If you’ve watched Holly and Phil, or Sam, Gethin and Dr Ranj on morning TV, you’ll have been gripped by discussion about the BBC’s latest blockbuster, Parole. It’s a programme which, in 59 minutes, “takes the lid off the workings and mystery of the Parole Board” and which “lets you decide“. The Open University is using it to flog its criminology courses and the Daily Mail gives it a disappointing three out of five stars for ‘entertainment’.
On the face of it, if ever there were to be a more damning indictment of our hopelessly and catastrophically broken justice system, I don’t know what it would be. How can the complexities and intricacies of an individual’s psyche, a) be summed up in 59 minutes and b) ever be seen as entertainment? It looks as though by sensationalising the parole process, it undermines justice for all.
The BBC positions the programme based on information sharing. And here it gets a bit more interesting. If, as is patently the case, there is a lack of public trust over institutions such as the Parole Board, not helped by random interventions by the Justice Secretary (and his predecessors) how can the damage that the mistrust brings be minimised? One way is to open it up for all to see to demystify it. Maybe that is what Parole is all about.
There are 346 members of the Parole Board, all experienced and trained to understand the process and to navigate the nuances of psychological profiling as it pertains to risk analysis for an individual return to society. They work on a court-like basis as anyone who has seen the programme will know. And their decisions are difficult and complicated, working with a formalised risk structure overlaid by an emotive societal response to victims and crime itself.
Given that various Justice Secretaries have jumped in and undermined the Parole Board by taking their own decisions, most notably David Gauke with John Worboys (which forced the Chairman of the Parole Board to resign) and Dominic Raab with Baby P’s mother, the institution is ripe for change. The fact that no-one knows what that change might look like suggests that the current approach might just be the ‘best worst case’ and thus the open-book approach might be a good thing.
Whatever the motivation, what is patently happening is yet further descent by the UK media into anarchy. That’s an emotive word to use but is pertinent given its definition as, “Absence of any form of political authority”. How much less political (i.e., structured, legal) authority is there than a prime-time TV show which “lets you [the viewer] decide” and pass judgment on the fate of an individual and the veracity of a fundamental legal institution all in the space of 59 minutes of edited TV?
The frailties of the Parole Board are just one example of the serious structural problems inherent in our criminal justice system. They range from sentence length to human rights violations in our crumbling, understaffed and under-resourced prisons. Against this situation, our society demands basic dignity for individuals, and it behoves the Justice System to provide the tools necessary to cope in society just as it behoves society to offer acceptance and reintegration to enable lives to be rebuilt.
In practice the combination of a broken justice system and an ever-more judgmental society impedes the prospects for released individuals to face significant barriers to inclusivity and to, in many cases, be deprived of their basic dignity.
A core issue is the widespread reporting of case details, which means that once convicted an individual is socially branded by search engine and social media alike. In times past, convictions became “spent” after a set period. With Google, that will never be the case. All convictions are for life. Bang go job prospects, personal and family relationships, home and car insurance, and any sense of personal peace.
If someone’s life is available as voyeuristic entertainment and the Goggleboxers are encouraged to cast their own judgment on individuals based on 59 minutes of edited primetime TV, how can there ever be clarity of justice? How can it be defined? Is it my justice or your justice, because progressively it doesn’t seem to be the common sort that we used to call and accept as the law?
As the Court of Public Opinion accedes to the highest seat of justice in the land, the emphasis moves from communication and consumption of the truth to drama and sensationalism. The individual, their humanity and dignity are left in the wake of a ‘good read’. And once the damage has been done, social media and search engines leave it raw and exposed for ever more. If ever there was an assault on human dignity it is there for all to see. And crime is ripe for this situation. After all, true crime sells.
The backdrop is that there are nigh on 85,000 people in prison and a further quarter of a million on probation. Philosophically all those people are rehabilitating. In reality, for those trying to get a life back on track, there is little hope and little meaning. There is no dignity. There is no justice served. It doesn’t mean rehabilitation. It doesn’t mean integration. It doesn’t mean citizenship. What it does mean is a life of permanent, unremitting punishment, regardless of the crime or length of the sentence.
We face a justice system which is being eroded at the altar of entertainment. We face absence of political authority in all its manifestations. Our society encourages sensationalism, for everyone to know everything about everybody and to cast judgment based on ‘personal truth’. In that environment, what price, as an ex-offender, basic dignity, or anything close to the fundamental definition of human rights “… to include the rights to life, liberty, equality, … freedom from … torture, and freedom of thought and expression”.
Anarchy it is then.
Guest Piece
Selective Democracy
Published on March 14, 2023 by Mort Orrecchio, a former detainee in our apology for a prison system
I’m confused. The fudge job that David Lidington did in 2017 to appease the bureaucrats in Brussels regarding UK voting rights for incarcerated prisoners loosened the blanket ban by allowing those on Release on Temporary Licence (RoTL) to vote. Does that mean that those serving time in open conditions who have home leave on RoTL – five days as part of the HMPPS ‘rehabilitation’ programme – during which there is an election, can turn up and place their cross in the box? And if not, why not?
Yes, OK. It is a somewhat ridiculous scenario, but it highlights the overall ridiculousness of the voting rights situation for prisoners. Either we live in a democracy in which universal suffrage is an immovable foundation or we don’t. You can’t be half-pregnant, although when it comes to prisoners’ voting rights, that appears to be Government policy.
I’d ask one question: If those who have been caught and convicted are not worthy of a vote, what makes those with whom we all rub shoulders in Sainsbury’s who are in the ‘offenders but not yet caught’ category eligible? If the differentiator is criminality, shouldn’t anyone who has ever been done for speeding, had a parking ticket or spent a night in a cell sleeping off the effects of drink or drugs (personal use only) be excluded?
The extremes underline the farce. And they underline the real issue at hand – our attitude to criminality. Forged in a sensationalist media, both mainstream outlets and increasingly on social media platforms, we have lost any definition of justice, any acceptance that Criminal Law and the Sentencing Guidelines are our Justice System and appreciation of what is right and wrong. Google ensures that all sentences are life sentences.
We’ve lost the plot. The underfunded and undermanned police force spend half their lives worrying about what happened 50 years ago and budgets are tied up in endless enquiries into stuff that can’t now be proven as everyone involved is either do-lally or dead. Criminality is a way of life. Speeding, a ‘recreational’ cocaine habit, fiddling Universal Credit, and carrying a knife ‘for protection’ are all pretty normal. That is our society and what comes with it is hatred and prejudice, proliferated on social media. Given that bleak scenario, the last thing we need is Government policy to undermine the little base of civic structure that we have left viz. democracy and universal suffrage.
Who is going to put themselves forward and reform the system? No, I can’t think of anyone either. God forbid a politician supporting anything that might be perceived as a vote-loser in an era of personality-based politics. I just can’t see it happening.
So we mooch along patting ourselves on the back for keeping 83,000 people in a decaying and broken prison system that offers no hope of rehabilitation and costs over £18bn per year in re-offending. If we are happy with that, we are happy with selective democracy. That’s a nasty slope down which to be sliding and can only end in a Huxleyan Brave New World.
Guest Piece
Civic Redemption?
Published on July 26, 2022 by Edward
I hope these comments on disenfranchisement, or ‘civil death’, will help to encourage a wider public debate on prisoner voting rights and the broader inclusion of people in civic and political life.
The subject of disenfranchisement has been of particular concern to me since my conviction and imprisonment over four years ago, and I appreciate the innovative approach that is being taken to stimulate a debate through creative works. For nearly twenty years, I was a town councillor and regularly took part in local and national elections, so my exclusion from the democratic process and having my status as a citizen diminished as a result of my conviction, was especially painful for me. Furthermore, the feeling of being excluded from my community for a period of two and a half years, with all the effects that the lack of respect and recognition had on my self-esteem, as well as the loss of equal political standing with other citizens, has had a detrimental impact on my ‘rehabilitation’ since release due to a persistent sense of exclusion from the life of the wider community.
My experience of both the prison service and the criminal justice system, including time spent on bail for over two years before my conviction, has certainly given me a unique perspective on the question of ‘civil death’ and being kept out of civic and political life. During my time in prison, the topic of disenfranchisement was often a focus of discussion, particularly with several of my fellow inmates who had also served in elected positions or believed strongly in the importance of enfranchisement as a key part of the rehabilitation process. None of our views were much different from the majority of contributors to publications such as Inside Time, and reflected many of the sentiments of those campaigning for reform of the system.
As one of those regarded by the present Justice Secretary as ‘beyond redemption’,* and therefore is finding it much harder to secure employment and reintegrate back into the community than many other ex-offenders, I believe it is even more important that the voices of people with similar lived experience are heard and encouraged to add to discussions about disenfranchisement, prisons and the criminal justice system within our society. How are any of us expected to make new lives for ourselves outside prison and contribute positively as responsible citizens, if the State starts out by removing our civic rights and excluding us from a key aspect of community life? I firmly believe in universal suffrage, which has been hard-fought for over the centuries, and can see no reason why this right is withdrawn from citizens simply because they are sent to prison. The present arrangement in the United Kingdom is clearly unsustainable, as it violates not only every tenet of democracy, but also perpetuates an archaic system of criminal justice which keeps punishing people long after their conviction. In many respects, it puts me in mind of the fundamental contradiction at the heart of the British Empire, with England seen by reformers such as John Bright as ‘the mother of parliaments,’ yet at the same time denying democratic freedoms to many of those subject to British colonial rule overseas. Similarly, our current elected representatives perpetuate a system which strips people of many of their rights and responsibilities as active citizens, whilst at every turn extolling the virtues of living in a supposedly free, liberal democracy. We were often told in prison that the judgement handed down by the court was our punishment, and serving a prison sentence was the first part of our ‘rehabilitation’. Yet the State perpetuates our punishment, and in fact worsens it, by removing our right to vote and turning us into non-citizens without responsibilities, thereby preventing many of us from being able to contribute in any meaningful way to the government of our country.
What are my thoughts about the future and whether there can be any resolution to this sorry state of affairs? Sadly I am pessimistic about any reversal in the current position on disenfranchisement, despite positive changes in some areas to move away from an excessively punitive model towards a more enlightened and inclusive stance which recognises the fundamental human rights of active citizens. Sadly, the reluctance of Westminster politicians to even contemplate any voting reform begs another question as to why there is such little interest in restoring civic dignity to prisoners and to see that one of the best ways of reintegrating prisoners back into society is not to exclude them from the democratic process in the first place. Perhaps MPs fear that if prisoners are given the vote then they might need to work harder to secure their support, or prisoners’ votes might just sway the results one way or the other in some of their marginal constituencies. Alternatively, our elected representatives might be apprehensive about resolving the voting rights issue as it may expose the present arrangement to unpalatable public scrutiny as it rises up the political agenda, along with overdue reforms of the courts, police and the prison service. Many MPs, I am certain, dread vilification by political and social commentators, particularly in several of our newer right-wing media outlets, if they even dare to mention the possibility of reform. Either way, the unwillingness of our national politicians to contemplate voting rights reform illustrates how little interest there is in tackling the massive, expensive problem of reoffending rates or creating a criminal justice system fit for a 21st century democracy. For me, the enfranchisement of prisoners would be the first important step on the road to reforming a system which is an affront in a truly democratic society, as it would provide those serving prison sentences with another vital incentive to remain part of their home communities and to take responsibility for turning their lives around after release.
* Interview in The Daily Telegraph, 5 February 2022.
Guest Piece
It is an old story by now... or is it?
Published on June 9, 2022 by Bethany Schmidt
Check out this blog post I wrote for Unlock! The piece draws attention to recent enfranchisement reforms in Scotland and Wales, and considers public attitudes toward prisoner voting rights.
Unlock is a UK-based charity that supports and advocates for people with criminal records to be able to move on positively in their lives. Their website is full of useful tips, guidance, and resources for professionals and those with lived experience of the criminal justice system.
a global view
international differences in prisoner disenfranchisement
Published on May 14, 2022 by Bethany Schmidt
What do prisoner voting rights look like in other countries? International dis/enfranchisement policies present a complex and highly varied picture. Chris Uggen and his colleagues (2009) examined differences in how countries exclude or include prisoners and former prisoners in the electorate. Their primary findings indicate that the simple presence of democratic governance does not guarantee that prisoners will be granted voting rights – like in the case of the United States or United Kingdom, for example. Their analysis suggests that economic development, as well as political development, is closely linked to the enfranchisement of prisoners. The map below is a visual representation of Uggen et al’s survey of international differences. The data, as you can see, is incomplete and now over a decade old – some legislation has changed since this study. Nonetheless, this offers an informative illustration that highlights how enfranchisement practices across the globe are not straightforward or predictable.
Map source: Uggen et al (2009: 62)
Further to the Uggen study, I have cobbled together a more detailed and updated list of countries that offer some prisoner voting rights. It is clear there is little uniformity when comparing regulatory legislation versus judicial discretion, or in how disenfranchisement becomes related to the offence. For some nations, like Germany, Norway, and Portugal – only very specific ‘political’ crimes that target the state or democratic order would result in a ban from voting. In other countries, like Cyprus, Bulgaria, and Romania, most prisoners remain enfranchised unless otherwise decided by a judge. This is similar to France, where disenfranchisement is an additional penalty to be imposed as part of the sentence only when it is viewed as proportionate to the offence.
A Sampling of International prisoner voting rights
Little uniformity, some judicial discretion, and sometimes related to the offence*
Albania – all prisoners
Bosnia – all prisoners (unless war crimes)
Bulgaria – up to judge
Canada – all
Croatia – all
Cyprus – most + judge
Czech Rep. – all
Denmark – all
Finland – all
France – offence related
Germany – offence related
Greece – some bans
Iceland – offence related
Ireland – all
Israel – all
Kenya – all
Latvia – all
Lithuania – all
Malta – sentence > 1yr
Macedonia – all
Montenegro – all
Netherlands – up to judge
Norway – offence related
Pakistan – all
Poland – up to judge
Portugal – offence related
Romania – most + judge
Serbia – all
Slovakia – all
South Africa – all
South Sudan – all
Spain – all
Sweden – all
Switzerland – all
Ukraine – all
These differences are not insignificant. It is evident that several countries explicitly use disenfranchisement as punishment. Ewald and Rottinghaus (2009: 12) point out that “this has important implications for how and on whom the sanction is imposed”. They go on to note that because prisoners retain the right to vote in many countries, this suggests “that in those nations, disenfranchisement is not seen as an efficacious way to accomplish either punitive or regulatory purposes”. This begs the perennial question: what exactly is accomplished when prisoners are barred from voting?
In recent years, some countries have begun to think differently about the status of prisoners and how that status relates to state-building or rebuilding and shaping their nation’s future. Two notable cases are Kenya and South Sudan, where prisoners were given the right to vote in special elections. It appears that some of the motivation and acceptance for opening up the debate has been tethered to momentous referendums. In Kenya, prisoners were first enfranchised in order to participate in their 2010 referendum to approve a new constitution and in South Sudan prisoners first gained the right to vote to determine whether the region should remain a part of Sudan or become independent in 2011 (this is similar to what occurred in Scotland, though with less success).
Being excluded from voting, as one prisoner explained to me, “is not just about voting, is it? It’s about not belonging – about society rejecting you”. This is acutely felt in the United States, which has some of the most severe, exclusionary, and expansive disenfranchisement policies in the world. The US also has the highest incarceration rate in the world. In most countries, voting rights are restored once a person is released from prison. In the US, however, a felony conviction can result in extended disenfranchisement even after release and sometimes permanently for life. Voting policies vary considerably by state. Only Maine and Vermont allow all prisoners to vote.
There are numerous and serious consequences associated with such restrictive practices. Disenfranchisement has a disproportionate impact on communities of colour. According to Chung (2021: 2), “Black Americans of voting age are nearly four times as likely to lose their voting rights than the rest of the adult population, with one of every 16 Black adults disenfranchised nationally”. Governance structures are likely to become less representative as more people are excluded or discouraged from participating – elections can therefore become skewed due to the absence of some voices. This really matters when local decisions are made about resource allocation, schools, housing, welfare, or economic issues. Feeling unrepresented or misrepresented tends to increase citizen apathy and withdrawal from wider political processes.
This discussion raises several critical questions:
How do we make sense of such varied international differences? Are they arbitrary or meaningful differences?
Could disenfranchisement be related to levels of inequality? Might disenfranchisement perpetuate inequality?
What does prisoner disenfranchisement achieve?
Is political disenfranchisement a reasonable or proportionate extension of the deprivation of liberty?
Do countries with more inclusive enfranchisement policies have better outcomes (like lower reoffending rates)?
What do you think about voting rights for prisoners? Go to the poll and share your opinion.
References
- Chung, J. (2021) ‘Voting Rights in the Era of Mass Incarceration: A Primer’.
- Ewald, A.C. and Rottinghaus, B. (eds.) (2009) Criminal Disenfranchisement in an International Perspective. New York: Cambridge University Press.
- Uggen, C., Van Brakle, M. and McLaughlin, H. (2009) ‘Punishment and Social Exclusion: National Differences in Prisoner Disenfranchisement’, in A.C. Ewald and B. Rottinghaus (eds.) Criminal Disenfranchisement in an International Perspective (pp. 59-75). New York: Cambridge University Press.
- For more information on prisoner voting rights in the US, refer to The Sentencing Project.
* Disclaimer: This was a well-intentioned effort to gather information not easily obtained. I have done my best to cross-check these details. However, I admit that this is a simplified portrayal of complex legislation and may be outdated or not wholly accurate. Let me know if you have additional material related to your country.