WAGES IN PRISON
By OLIVER KEARSLEY
[late redcollar clerk to the Earnings Scheme, H.M. Prison, Dartmoor] TWO things have been responsible for the many ad- ministrative changes in prison-life during the past decade—growing insight into the psychology of prisoners, and the desire to reclaim rather than punish. Among recent changes there have been improvements in food. Men can now work and in some cases eat together. They have better opportunities to read and study. Private donors presented much-appreciated wireless sets to the special and third-stage men at Dartmoor and The Spectator recently organized a fund that has since supplied similar sets to many other prisons. Additional means of recreation have also contributed to the ,` Brighter Prison " movement.
• Without doubt the humanitarian motives underlying the Home Secretary's efforts to improve prison conditions have already gone far towards rehabilitating the majority of those now serving sentences,—a community in whom there is still a latent and innate instinct for good. Further measures of penal reform are proposed for next year. Meanwhile nine months' successful operation justifies a brief survey of the newest and most radically progressive measure of any—the " earnings scheme." Most important perhaps is the fact that the introduction of a scheme which has made it possible to acquire at least some • of the amenities of the outside world has helped to cure the prisoner's obsession with the idea that Society was merely a hostile soulless machine primarily designed to keep the malefactor down. The removal of this " persecution complex " has given rise to a restored faith in humanity and a reawakened interest in life. Humane treatment calls forth gratitude—of which few are incapable. Payments (which are all in-new coins straight from the Mint), varying from 4d. to 9d. per week according to the nature and amount of work done, are made in actual cash and are in- dividually signed for at a pay-table. As a result the recipients of the higher rates have a sense of achievement and all enjoy the pride of possession. The self-respect induced by handling actual money after a long period of barren imprisonment can easily be imagined. The habit of thrift is acquired and is often a good omen for after-prison life. Judicious outlay, and periodic payments of savings into private cash-accounts, foster this new-born spirit of responsibility, and " stage pay " depending on the number of years served,—an addi- tional award ranging from twopence per week, after one and a half years, to a maximum of is. 2d., after nine years,—helps to swell the numbered purse supplied to every man. A common fund, to which everybody must contribute a weekly penny, is admirably administered by the Governor and results in periodic gifts of tobacco, fruit, sweets, &c.—require- ments of smokers and non-smokers being catered for alike at his discretion.
A scheme involving such a radical experiment as this does not, naturally, spring into being faultless and ready-made. This idea of the penny contributed to the common fund is an example in point. A penny to the outsider is of almost infinitesimal value. In the world of prison where many values disappear and others are exaggerated out of all pro- portion, a penny—perhaps representing a quarter of a week's income—is a sum to be expended with much care and fore- sight. To allow it to disappear into the lottery of a common fund is to risk disappointment. The governor administers the fund with the maximum of tact, but it must often seem —say, for example, to a toothless smoker who finds himself presented with three apples—that he could have disposed of his penny more satisfactorily himself. The difficulty is not obviated by the fact that barter and exchange are allowed. The laws of supply and demand operate as ineluctably in this as in any other community, and the unwilling possessor of apples who must sell in a market where apples are momentarily plentiful and their value consequently dropping must get less than what he knows their cost to have been. On the whole there seems to be a case for considering a change in this feature of the scheme. A bonus of sixpence is also paid from the common fund to every newcomer entering the earnings scheme. This bonus enables new arrivals to take part immediately instead of having to wait till the end of the first full working week for payment—a payment to which they are completely unused in the wilderness of local prisons from which they have been transferred, since the scheme has only so far been extended to about four of these.
Purchases are made weekly at a canteen where tobacco and sundries, grocery, confectionery, &c., are sold over the counter in the usual way. Clubbing together and sharing are permitted in order to bring the more expensive delicacies within reach of all. As may be imagined, negotiations are conducted with the utmost discrimination, the greatest possible care being expended in choosing the luxuries for the ensuing week. The bulk of the demand—approximately 85 per cent.—is, of course, for tobacco. Sugar, which was used for porridge, ranked highest among the non-nicotine commodities, until a daily distribution was authorised. Now jam, marmalade and boiled sweets take the lead. I wonder if the outsider realises what a boon smoking has proved at Dartmoor. Three hundred men of diverse temperaments, confined in any restricted area for long periods, are bound to suffer from nervous tension. Friction, always near the surface, was formerly aggravated by much enforced idleness and misanthropic introspection.
The bleak prospect of four long years of daily labour recurring mechanically without the slightest mitigation until the special stage was reached was one of appalling monotony. Even at the end the privileges were more modest than those which may now be enjoyed from the start by every man who enters a convict establishment and who is fit for work. Formerly frayed nerves, inhibitions and prison complexes were rife. How the special stage smokers were envied ! And suddenly smoking, even in occupied cells, was per- mitted ! The men were trusted, and so far no instances have come to light of abuse of the privilege that has brought the luxury of an early morning cigarette or final pipe at night, although the unexpected acquisition of moxiey inevit- ably increases the temptation to gambling. The bulk of the tobacco is of the shag variety and is necessarily of the cheapest kind, but its palliative effect nevertheless was immediately apparent. Nerve-tension relaxed. At last one had an interest in life, and something to look forward to at the end of the day. And if one's own supply had been too lavishly consumed there were always friends who were allowed to come to the rescue. Sales are generally in half- ounce packets, but from tobacco sufficient to make three normal cigarettes the average prisoner contrives to manu- facture from 4o to 5o !
Even by the end of the first week men were displaying their small stores of accumulated pennies. Further proof of the efficacy of the new departure lies in the diminution of punishment for offences committed in prison. Causes of friction between officers and .men have been removed and fear of losing the new privilege has worked wonders.
My own work gave me an opportunity to study the psycho- logical reactions of both men and officers. I am confident that the payments scheme, appealing to heart and head, has been eminently justified. An appeal was made to the prisoners' taste for the things that made life worth living. By granting these in a modified form the authorities empha- sised, subtly but sufficiently, the discrepancy between the environment of prison and that of the outside world, and one realised that nothing could compensate for the loss of liberty. But no innovation has ever been so completely justified.
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