The new prisons minister, Robert Buckland MP, recently replied to a Parliamentary Question
from Richard Burgon MP, the shadow justice secretary, concerning the
number of people received into prison who are homeless. This was
interesting because most debate has centred around people being homeless
on release from prison, which is, of course, still a major problem.
The response was staggering. The number of people known to be of no
fixed abode when they were received into the 51 prisons listed increased
from 18,493 in 2015 to 23,488 in 2018. This includes men and women but
excludes children. The figures will include people remanded to prison by
the courts and those who are sentenced.
Bizarrely, some big prisons that receive from the courts were missing
from the list and the total number of homeless people sent to prison is
undoubtedly even greater than the information provided by the minister.
Missing from the list were 73 prisons. Most of them do not receive people from the courts, or indeed the streets, because they are high security or training prisons; nevertheless prisons like Wormwood Scrubs and Preston were missing. This means that the full picture of how prisons are being used to sweep up the homeless is not clear and is being under-counted.
We do not know how many children and women who are homeless are being
sent to prison. Missing from the list are prisons like Styal, which
holds women, and Feltham, which holds children.
I have always argued that the penal system is used to sweep up the
poor; now it seems we have definite proof. As the cuts in funding for
local government have sliced into services for people with addiction,
health, mental health problems the number of the homeless has increased
exponentially. They are forced into petty crime to survive.
Spend a few hours in any magistrates courts and you will be
transported back to the eighteenth century. The shock is that anyone
thinks that this is humane, and it certainly is not economically
efficient.
This week an Urgent Notification was issued to Bristol prison
because it is in such dire state. Hidden in the litany of failures the
inspector noted that almost half the men released from the prison were
homeless.
The government admitted that, of the 6,000 women released from prison in 2017/8,
only just over a half had settled accommodation, 240 were known to be
going to rough sleeping and 831 women were ‘other homeless’. Nothing was
known about 778 women released from prisons. Inspectors have noted that
prisons have given sleeping bags and tents to men and women released
from prison.
People who are homeless are being swept into prison and then dumped
back onto the streets. Prisons are a merry-go-round for the people too
poor and too fragile to sort their lives out. But instead of providing
support, we are spending billions every year policing them,
criminalising them and incarcerating them.
There is a chink of light. Overwhelmingly these are the people who are given short sentences by the courts. The government is planning to consult on its plan to get rid of short prison sentences. Let’s hope that this happens expeditiously and that we can close down some of the prisons holding the homeless so that funding is diverted to the local services that would prevent anti-social behaviour and support people to live healthier, happier lives.
By Dr Katrina Morrison, Lecturer in Criminology at Edinburgh Napier University and Board Member at Howard League Scotland
The 20th anniversary of the opening of the Scottish
Parliament allows us to pause and reflect on the progress of penal
reform in this time. While criminal justice was under the jurisdiction
of Scottish administrative structures prior to devolution, the
establishment of the Scottish Parliament created policy instruments
which could enable more radical change, and the political and civic
arena in which to affect them.
Assessing anything, including penal reform, is ultimately a
comparative endeavour, everything is relative. In Scotland, our
inevitable comparison is with England and Wales, where we like to
compare ourselves (often favourably). We do much less comparison with Northern Ireland or the Republic of Ireland, our Celtic neighbours, or with mainland Europe – we know many of the same assessments we make of ourselves would be less favourable if we did, whether in rates of imprisonment (that most dominant penal metric), or in numbers under penal supervision,
a less visible, yet still powerful indictor of Scotland’s approach to
punishment. Whilst not ignoring the perhaps justifiable comparison with
England and Wales given geographical proximity and shared histories, we
could be more ambitious and seek a different measuring rod in our
efforts of comparative analysis.
What assessment can we make around Scottish penal reform over the past 20 years?
Over the past twenty years, Scotland can rightfully be proud of:
Commitments for a new prison estate for women in custody, Community Custody Units
(CCUs), which are small, community facing, and designed to look and
feel like domestic accommodation, rather than a prison. The decision to
build CCUs follows a 2015 Scottish Government decision not to proceed with a large single prison for women following a sustained campaign by women’s and penal reform organisations.
The proposed Community Custodial Unit for women in Maryhill, Glasgow
The development of problem-solving justice in particular for young people, women, repeat offending, domestic abuse, and alcohol abuse, with a recent evaluation showing just how successful such approaches can be.
Whilst we in Scotland can rightly celebrate these developments, we
must also recognise the limits to more radical and progressive reforms
over this time, including:
These examples are by no means exhaustive, but reflect some key
issues captured from my viewpoint (as someone who has worked in
universities, criminal justice and in penal reform), which represent
both developments of which we can be rightly proud in Scotland, and also
the distance we still have to travel. What then does this mean for the
prospects for penal reform in Scotland over the next 20 years and
beyond? I think we need to be looking at reform which is both top-down,
and bottom-up, and also somewhere in between.
Current political party composition of Scottish Parliament
However, we cannot rely on change as a result of political action alone, there is a socio-cultural context which sustains Scotland’s penal approach which must also be addressed. Despite concern over the way we punish in Scotland for many years,
‘policy fixes’ have so far not had the traction we would hope. Perhaps
this could be because the story Scottish people tell themselves about
who they are, and the values they hold, is not always reflected in the
data we have about the way Scottish people feel about a range of social
issues. In 2015, difference in views between Scotland and England and
Wales towards free tuition fees and the EU were much less marked than one might think, and in 2018, social attitude data also revealed that views towards immigration
were very similar in both Scotland and England and Wales (though views
were translated into different voting preferences). In relation to views
on crime and justice, the latest Scottish Crime and Justice Survey
showed that nearly 75% of the representative sample of the Scottish
population did not know ‘very much’ or ‘anything at all’ about the
criminal justice system. Despite this, 75% of those surveyed also felt
either confident or very confident in the delivery of criminal justice
across a range of indicators, an opinion which did not change much
between victims and non-victims. Data showed
that the public believed that support should be provided to people in
prison to assist with later reintegration, but only 53% agreed that only
those who commit the most serious crimes should be in prison. These are
indicators that with careful conversations, and the right information,
public opinion can be led to think about punishment in a different way
than one might first think when reading some of the more sensationalist
headlines.
How then can the cultural context in which the penal system operates
be shaped, in order that positive changes in practice and outcomes be
realised? Possibilities might lie in attempts to engage citizens more
deeply in conversations about crime, punishment, and more broadly, in
social justice. Such work was undertaken as part of the ‘Creating Spaces
for Change’ project, described as ‘part knowledge exchange, part social experiment’,
which sought to capitalise on increased civic engagement in Scotland in
the wake of the 2014 independence referendum, a project which resulted
in a range of collaborative initiatives, dialogues around justice and
influence on practice. However, the very ‘success’ or progress realised
through such projects is difficult to measure
according to conventual methods of evaluation. Nonetheless, such an
approach may have traction in Scotland at this moment: there is an
appetite for deliberative dialogue to facilitate better Scottish public policy reform,
and the commitment to more participatory means of civic engagement has
been further strengthened in the recent announcement for Scotland’s first ever Citizens Assembly
which will focus on the future of Scotland. There is no reason that
conversations around crime, punishment and citizenship, cannot be
included into those processes. This could compliment other smaller scale
means of engaging with the public around these questions which have
recently been launched, including efforts by the Scottish Sentencing Council, Community Justice Scotland, and Release Scotland. Other recent initiatives seeking to engage civic society around justice reform employ more creative methods, such as Distant Voices,
a song-writing project involving groups of people with convictions,
criminal justice staff, victims, academics, artists and musicians, and
families affected by imprisonment, or A Life in Pieces , a graphic novel which conveys routes into custody and the experiences of punishment to different audiences.
Sustained progressive penal change lies in a range of different
factors, both within, and out with the criminal justice system. For
example, Finland succeeded in radically changing the way it uses imprisonment in the 20th Century
by legal and sentencing reform which was also enabled by becoming part
of the Nordic welfare model and building a political consensus for
change involving criminal justice elites, sentencers and experts.
However, there was also a cultural context, including a moderate media,
which facilitated this too. In Scotland, we need both changes to law and
policy around punishment, but also attention to wider questions around
welfare and support, and finally also more deliberate and deliberative
efforts at changing the cultural context in which these all occur.
Devolution is still in its infancy, and the political sphere is maturing after initial haste and impatience in reform across a range of areas including criminal justice.
There is much that be achieved by politicians and policy-makers in this
moment of Scottish history, but solutions to the problems of Scotland’s
enduring approaches to punishment lie outside the political sphere as
well. The growing confidence of Scotland as a nation, both civically and
politically, provide the space and incentives to enable a different
approach (in: rhetoric, policy, values, and ultimately, in practices and
experiences) to the way we respond to harm in Scotland.