Book Reviews (13.2)
Articles
Nathan Monk
Published | 15/06/2015 |
Type | Review |
Author(s) | Jake Phillips, Anne Robinson |
Corresponding Authors | |
DOA | |
DOI |
THE PUNISHMENT IMPERATIVE: THE RISE AND FAILURE OF MASS INCARCERATION IN AMERICA
Todd R. Clear and Natasha A. Frost (2014). New York: New York University Press. pp 258 (hdbk) £19.99. ISBN 978-0-8147-1719-6
Clear and Frost introduce their book by defining what the ‘Punishment Imperative’ (PI) is, and how the ‘grand social experiment’ of mass incarceration has shaped the course of the American criminal justice system over the past several decades: ‘[T]he Punishment Imperative began with the co-alignment of an array of forces that came together to make the explosive growth in the penal system a social and political possibility.’ The authors argue that rising crime rates, media attention to victimization, high political priority, an emerging, large pool of unemployed young black men that came to symbolize an urban ‘enemy’ in which to wage ‘wars’ against, and a political economy that emphasized get-tough politics propelled the prison population and extended the reach of the correctional system starting in the 1970s. The book’s timeliness allows the analysis of this storyline to be advanced by proposing that 2009 marked a shift in the mass incarceration trajectory, as prison numbers began to meaningfully drop for the first time in years, which, they contend, signifies the fall of the Punishment Imperative.12* The authors support this (somewhat tentative) claim by arguing that the dominant driver for the reduction of dependence and overuse of prisons is the present economic crisis, though it is more complex than simple austerity: ‘So while the current fiscal crisis is a motivating factor for the downsizing of the correctional system, it is not by itself the cause. The de-escalation of punishment is possible mainly because the sentiment of punitiveness has undergone an important shift (11).’ This book, then, is about the rise, failure, and fall of the Punishment Imperative. Because of that, it is an interesting read for established academics, practitioners, and students alike.
The first several chapters present a thorough and well-researched navigation through the development and growth of the Punishment Imperative. To begin, the historical context which laid the groundwork for the turn in public and political punitiveness in the 1970s is outlined. This introduction leads to a sophisticated examination of the PI as a ‘grand social experiment’, in which the authors argue that the PI as a social and political experiment is particularly insidious because ‘the goal was never articulated, the full array of consequences was never considered, and the momentum built even as the forces driving the policy shifts diminished’ (57). This is a persuasive section, specifically because it addresses broader moral concerns about the impact of such wide-reaching, yet often racially targeted, state-sanctioned controls on community and social justice: ‘concern about crime became shorthand for a broader concern about what many perceived as the general breakdown of order’ (60), in which race became a foundation for punishment (62).
Chapter four provides a comprehensive and engaging analysis of the policies that preceded the Punishment Imperative (namely the 1967 Crime Commission report), those that contributed to the amplification and potency of the PI, and the apparent sea change in rhetoric and reform that is now taking place. The chapter opens with the three recommendations that came out of the 1967 report: attention should be placed on the root causes of crime (e.g. ‘eliminate slums and ghettos’, improve education, provide jobs, and ‘to make sure that every American is given the opportunities and the freedoms that will enable him to assume his responsibilities’ (71)); there is a need for investment in the justice system; and, there is a need for innovation across criminal justice system agencies. The authors note, ‘It is one of the great ironies in US penal policy that during the forty-year period following this…recommendation, it was so completely ignored’ (72). This background creates an intriguing juxtaposition as Clear and Frost then review the evolution and expansion of the often-draconian policies that followed in the succeeding decades (for example, truth-in-sentencing and three-strike laws, as well as felon disenfranchisement from federal programs that assist with housing and education – policies that are in direct contrast to the 1967 recommendations).
The following chapters consider the objectives of the Punishment Imperative, and the overall success/failure of these. Four general conclusions about this ‘grand experiment’ are drawn: the incarceration rate has been demonstrated to be disconnected from the crime rate; prison expansion has not met its own goals (specifically in deterring and/or rehabilitating); mass incarceration exacerbated many of the social problems that continue to persist; and finally, ‘mass incarceration has been perhaps one of the best examples of how tightly entwined politics and punishment can become’ (137). The book concludes by arguing that the PI is currently undergoing a ‘dismantling’. Reducing imprisonment is now a desirable aim, and the authors suggest three ways in which this could be achieved: repealing mandatory penalties, reducing length of stay, and reducing rates of recidivism (162-3). Several examples illustrate how some states have developed programming to address these aims (like the HOPE model in Hawaii, that seeks to reduce reoffending through a reformed revocation process).
I am not entirely convinced by the authors’ claim that the ‘de-escalation of punishment is possible mainly because the sentiment of punitiveness has undergone an important shift (11)’, but I find their optimism refreshing and overall analyses significant. Despite being a prisons researcher (and an American) well-versed in this history and the contemporary realities it has produced, I found this book to be a remarkable read and thought-provoking from beginning to end.
Bethany E. Schmidt, PhD candidate, Institute of Criminology, University of Cambridge
12* However, the US Bureau of Justice Statistics has recently reported that the national total of prisoners rose by 4,300 in 2013. Refer to: http://www.bjs.gov/content/pub/pdf/p13.pdf.
WOMEN, PUNISHMENT AND SOCIAL JUSTICE: HUMAN RIGHTS AND PENAL PRACTICES
Margaret Malloch and Gill McIvor (eds) (2013). London and New York: Routledge: Taylor and Francis group. pp 222 (Pbk) £34.99. ISBN: 978-0-4156-3717-6
This book manages that difficult balancing act of having clear academic focus, but also being a good, practice based read. It draws on presentations and papers from a seminar series and could become a fragmented collection because of that. It retains clarity and shape through a clear conceptual framework. As Malloch and McIvor (2013:206) say in their concluding thoughts
‘Our concern was to highlight the human rights implications of responses to women within the criminal justice system and the extent to which they relate to social justice.’
This focus runs throughout the papers. Two sections focus on practice examples, both practitioner and academic. Two dense and theoretical chapters introduce the work, addressing detail of policies and presenting the conceptual framework. There are two chapters in the ‘final thoughts’ section, one a clarion call to take the ideas expressed here seriously and the other a reflection by the editors on the thought processes that led to the shape of the book.
Papers more often reflect prison than probation work. Academic practice is represented in chapter 5, interrogating problems of structured measures in researching women’s mental health. Echoing Malloch and McIvor (2013:5) this chapter, as do all chapters, contextualizes law-breaking within conditions that surround offending women ‘traceable to social, political and economic contexts’. Recurring and central themes in these accounts are different ways in which women who offend are individually criminalized and punished but triggers and causes for those offences are located in the general discourse of being female. This thread is developed in different ways: Barton and Cooper (2013:143) identify ways in which hostel regimes structure and perpetuate ‘idealized forms of femininity’ while successive papers make explicit factors linking global experiences of women: exclusion, marginalization, poverty, unemployment, responsibility for children, experience of abuse or sexual violence. This does not lose practice detail: Azrini Wahidin and Roy Aday include analysis of the potential impact of imprisonment in the UK pension scheme as well as analytical questions about how age is framed. In this way the book becomes more than a series of accounts of different ways women are treated in prison and becomes an interlinked examination of conceptualizations of ‘woman’ across punishments. There are also hints at an analysis that extends the argument to develop a theory of why punishment is given at it is. Lorraine Gelsthorpe (chapter 2) questions the legitimacy of the of criminal justice treatment of women through differential treatment: Margaret Malloch and Gill McIvor argue for a movement from formal to substantive equality.
The book was published in 2013, as austerity measures increased pressure on poor people and eroded parity between men and women. It may be that the good practice given here has not survived: looking at the future five years of Conservative policy in Britain both the initiatives given here and the underlying conceptualization of punishment within a human rights framework are at risk. Alison Hosie’s (chapter 8) careful and detailed account of using the Human Rights Act (1998) to shape policy in hospital is a case in point. It has clear implications for practice in the general prison estate but current attempts to abolish the legislation may leave this as a lasting record of aspiration and prevent lessons being translated to other agencies.
For me, this book arrived at the right time. Students writing about women had little reading that conceptualized practice: I recommend this book to undergraduates knowing that many will ignore conceptualization. Postgraduate students have the opportunity to read theory and practice in a whole and coherent form. Criminologists have a complex but clear framework in which to think about women. Practitioners are challenged to consider individual and organizational practice. It may be that practice detailed will be lost in the coming years but the book stands as a testament to what can be done and thought and will be important text for this reason. As Kim Pate says (p.204) ‘Law and criminalization are choices made by those who we give authority’. This account of choices is timely, detailed and easy to read.
Dr Clare Beckett, Senior Lecturer, University of Bradford
FOUNDATIONS FOR YOUTH JUSTICE: POSITIVE APPROACHES TO PRACTICE
Anne Robinson (2014) Bristol: Policy Press. pp 340 (pbk) £21.99 ISBN 978-1-4473-0698-6
Foundations for Youth Justice offers a refreshing perspective on how we work with young people who come into contact with the Youth Justice System (YJS) in England and Wales. The YJS has long advocated child-centred approaches to working with young people who offend, but in practice, this is not necessarily the case. Complex, and sometimes competing, national and local frameworks and rules have dominated and confounded youth justice practitioners’ work with young people. Since 2010, however, under the coalition government, there has been some positive relaxation of these confounding rules, such as the move toward ‘decentralisation…allowing greater freedoms to determine services at the local level’ (p.58). Many obstacles and challenges do, however, remain for those working within youth justice. Not least, austerity measures that further reduce resources available to youth offending services and the agencies that work with them. Robinson neatly draws together the literature on youth justice and goes further to offer some pragmatic changes in youth justice practice. In addition, each chapter concludes with an implications for practice section which will be of particular use to youth justice practitioners because it summarises the key elements of each chapter and their meaning for practice.
The book is structured into three broad sections: The first, theories and concepts of youth and justice, draws on research and literature exploring young people’s transition to adulthood and the social construction of youth and proceeding life stages. Robinson highlights the varied methodological approaches to researching youth and the conflicting conclusions from such studies, particularly in relation to the impact on policy formation and the subsequent reflection in youth justice practice which may not be meeting the needs of young people. The first section further explores youth justice histories and the competing nature of welfare and justice/punishment principles. Many of the issues discussed such as gender and youth justice (p.45-47) and debates regarding the role of relationships between practitioners and young people (p.47-48) are long-term concerns in the wider youth justice literature, yet in policy and subsequently practice, there is little evidence that these long-term concerns are being fully addressed. Section one closes with reflections on theories and concepts of youth and historical responses from policy and practice. Drawing on the issues presented in section one and particularly on findings from the Edinburgh Study of Youth Transitions, Robinson offers a vision for youth justice practice and proposes a youth-centred practice model (p.61-66). This essentially places the young person at the centre of all youth justice work, advocating a more constructive approach with five core principles of (1) participatory problem-solving, (2) diversion from the formal YJS, (3) prevention not punishment, (4) proportionate intervention and (5) community-based intervention.
The reader should remain cautious of the applicability of some of the studies drawn on in the first section such as those from Scotland and the United States and those with adult offenders. The contextual and cultural differences between these studies and youth justice in England and Wales must be addressed before drawing firm conclusions for practice. Nonetheless, the lessons drawn from these studies can be valuable. A lack of focused research on a number of the issues addressed by such studies in youth justice practice in England and Wales remains.
The second section, issues for young people, provides further exploration of areas of young people’s transition to adulthood such as: (1) transition from school to work, (2) social and intimate relationships, (3) mental health and well-being, (4) growing up in public care, (5) alcohol and drugs and, (6) anti-social behaviour. The content and analyses in section two is timely and thoughtful. For example, Robinson considers the recent rise in the participation age from age 16 to 18 and the importance of quality employment provision for young people seeking work (p.82). Again, each chapter concludes with an implications for practice section which builds on the youth-centred practice model from section one, providing the reader with pragmatic insight on each specific area addressed.
The third section, issues for youth justice practice, focuses specifically on youth justice practice and offers a nuanced guide through the youth justice process. The section begins with a discussion of risk and harm, safeguarding and multi-agency work, through the processes of early intervention, the courts, restorative justice, community and custodial sentences. With reflection on the youth-centred practice model and implications for practice, section three provides a valuable contribution to the youth justice literature. Few publications have addressed the youth justice process in such a clear and accessible manner, with pragmatic explanation and reflection.
Overall, the book is written concisely, thoughtfully and purposefully. As old debates are repackaged and debated time and again, the youth justice literature needs a positive injection of challenge and pragmatic forward movement. Anne Robinson provides this in Foundations for Youth Justice, which should inspire further positive thought, reflection and research and be of interest primarily to youth justice practitioners and students of youth justice, but also to policy-makers and a wider academic audience.
Dr Daniel Marshall, Managing Director, 81 Dots and Visiting Scholar, Institute of Criminology, University of Cambridge
YOUNG OFFENDERS: CRIME, PRISON AND STRUGGLES FOR DESISTANCE
Mark Halsey and Simone Duggan (2015) Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, pp 280 (hbk) £60.00 ISBN 978-1137411211
This book is ambitious, bold and deeply insightful. It is also often a troubling read. Halsey and Duggan present data from longitudinal research in which fourteen young men were followed from their mid-teens into early adulthood, not an easy transition as they struggled with problematic involvements in crime and with the criminal justice system. These are narratives of individual lives placed in their social and family contexts, none of which provided safe, nurturing environments and opportunities for growth. And they are narratives that point to the difficulties of moving out of crime into ‘conventional’ adulthood when the building blocks are simply not accessible, even though in their different ways and at different times, all these young men aspired to put their ‘offender-hood’ behind them and to live trouble-free lives.
That is the deep irony revealed in the biographies of these men. So much of the intervention in their young lives – from education, social care and criminal justice agencies – had been at best irrelevant, and at worst had compounded their difficulties and had frustrated efforts to change. All fourteen had prolific patterns of offending and incarceration from adolescence onwards. Interestingly, an appendix provides charts for each individual illustrating days spent in the community and in custody both as juveniles and as adults, which is a sobering sight. Naturally, each life course is unique and some had fared better than others moving into adulthood. The structure of the book, having set the scene and outlined the fieldwork, presents twelve stories, starting with those closest to desistance (Billy, Charlie and David) who are roughly ‘on track’ through to the ‘catastrophic turn’ seen in the lives of Sam, James and Chris. In between, other lives are characterised by ‘recurring breakdown (Joel, Paul, Reggie and Ben) or ‘major derailment’ (Lee and Matt).
Methodological purists might balk at the involved relationships evident here but, as the authors note, it would have been difficult not to respond at an emotional level when confronted with the pains, hopes and fears of these young men over the ten years. And at certain points, they responded at a practical level too, giving food parcels at moments of crisis, relaying messages to family members and so on. Such demonstrations of empathy and support – often strikingly absent from these young men’s experiences of official agencies – encouraged a rich and deep sharing of stories. They are also indicative of one of the main themes of the book, which is that desistance during the transition to adulthood is not a purely personal process, but is affected by the complex interplay of personal factors with social context and structural position. Again and again, the power of generativity, of giving back, is brought to the fore, most often in relation to partners and children, but crucially involving caring for self and for the future as well as caring for others. While these young men increasingly desired opportunities for generativity in periods of stability, they were difficult to hold on to when their lives became tough and circumstances worked against them.
Within the terms of Terrie Moffitt’s (1993) typology of adolescent-limited and life-course persistent offenders, all but Billy, Charlie and David would be classified as life-course persistent. However, the authors contend that this binary distinction fails to reflect the complexity of lives and make sense of individual trajectories. All the young men at some stage showed and acted upon motivation to change. Certainly all recognised the futility of continuing to offend, although entering adulthood with few sources of social and cultural capital, the attractions of short-term criminal capital inevitably remained. What is also striking from the young men’s stories is how the actions and reactions of criminal justice agencies created points of tension, with disproportionate restrictions or intrusions for example, causing them to lose heart and slip back into a fatalistic ‘fuck it mentality’. Home detention and parole conditions were particular sites of difficulty, in numerous instances precipitating breach and fresh sanctions. The criminogenic potential of criminal justice practices and the master status of offender comes over powerfully in the depiction of the struggles that they faced, with examples of being ‘given a break’ by sympathetic judges or other professionals very much the exception.
The authors present selectively from their extensive data and offer telling analyses of the biographical twists and turns of these twelve young lives. The details are given in rough chronological order, but developing comments and themes requires some backwards and forwards movement along the sequence of life events. Importantly for building authenticity and biographical coherence, participants were asked to nominate a small number of NSOs or nominated significant others, and the partners, parents and other family members they identified were then able to contribute their perspectives and insights. The resulting twelve narratives are compelling, not least because Halsey and Deegan strike such a balance between attending to the feelings, drives and actions of their participants on the one hand, whilst on the other offering a critique of social practices and institutions grounded in detail from the narratives. The final chapters round off the discussions by drawing together the major difficulties revealed by the young men’s narratives. The authors avoid a prescriptive approach to improvements but do suggest areas for attention, principally in helpful early support to prevent the accumulation of damaging experiences and negative labelling so vividly exemplified in their participants’ narratives.
Certainly this is an important study within the desistance field which has tended to focus on desistance processes in adults rather than in those transitioning to adulthood. As a systematic longitudinal study it offers a wealth of data, with possibly only the tip of the iceberg presented in this book. Even so, it is powerful and will provide food for thought to a varied readership across practice, policy-making and educational contexts. It deserves to be widely read and to have lasting impact.
Anne Robinson, Principal Lecturer, Sheffield Hallam University
References
Moffitt, T. (1993) ‘Adolescent-Limited and Life-Course Persistent Anti-Social Behaviour: A Developmental Taxonomy’, Psychological Review, 100(4): 674-701.
RESIDENTIAL CHILDREN’S HOMES AND THE YOUTH JUSTICE SYSTEM. IDENTITY, POWER AND PERCEPTIONS
Julie Shaw (2014) Palgrave Macmillan. pp 208. (pbk) £58.00. ISBN 978-1-137-31960-9
Julie Shaw’s Residential Children’s Homes and the Youth Justice System is a much needed addition to the area of criminology and youth justice. As is apparent from the title, the book focuses on children in care: their experiences of care homes, interactions with the criminal justice system, and personal reflections on self and identity. The relatively limited criminological research in this area is surprising, especially when one considers that 24% of English prisoners have been in care at least once during their childhoods (Ministry of Justice, 2012). Shaw’s account, then, is a welcome addition to the field, providing an academically rigorous analysis of the subject matter.
The book is divided into three principal sections: ‘Part I: Setting the Scene’, ‘Part II: Research Findings’ and ‘Part III: Conclusions’. Each of these is subdivided into further sub-sections. In Part I, Shaw begins by presenting a summarized account of the historical experiences of socially deprived children in England. This includes detailing governmental responses to provide support to such children. She goes onto outline more recent developments around the rights of the child, including specific statutory instruments and the UN’s efforts to place ‘the child’ at the centre of such legislation. Like the preceding historical narrative, these sections of the chapter are easy to digest, focus on the appropriate issues, and contain enough detail to be informative, but not so much as to bewilder the reader. Shaw then moves onto a critique of more recent governments’ efforts on children’s rights. This portion of the chapter seems less balanced, with the author criticizing the efforts of several governments without much evidence. For example, on p.32 she accuses the Coalition government of presiding “over a period of economic slowdown [and] social disturbance…which has impacted negatively upon the lives of many children”, yet on the next page states that “in June 2013, the government announced an additional £200 million would be invested in the [troubled families] scheme”. This is not the only example of political criticisms that are unsupported by the evidence, something which seems out of place in an otherwise meticulously researched book. An example of this detailed research is at the conclusion of Part I, where Shaw pithily outlines the theoretical perspectives which underpin the book, and describes in detail the methodology employed throughout the study. The time taken by the author to describe her methodological approach – including justifications for using this approach and details of her sample – will prove useful to any academic or student who wishes to engage with the text.
Part II presents the findings of this study, and whilst it is clear that the results are not really intended for a lay audience, there are substantial research findings which students, practitioners and policy makers will find useful. The section is divided into several thematic areas, and the ‘voices’ of participants are clear throughout this part of the book. Moreover, the results are well analysed, giving appropriate emphasis to the perspectives of children in care as well as a reasoned analysis of the issues raised. Shaw is careful to not just include the responses of children in care, but also of social workers, residential care workers and other practitioners. These multiple perspectives add to the validity of the data, and their inclusion illustrates Shaw’s recognition that those who work in residential children’s home offer useful information on the subject-matter. Part II of the book is also easy to read, with Shaw sub-dividing each section and blending in the primary data well with analysis and references to existing research. A particular strength of this section is the detailed analysis of the role police play within the care system, including the ‘normalization’ of police-presence in such institutions. Again, Shaw is careful to present multiple perspectives – including from magistrates, solicitors and police officers themselves. This – combined with references to policy documents and other statutory instruments – creates data triangulation, something which adds to the validity of the findings, and makes the conclusions more convincing. If there is one criticism of Part II, it is the limited references made to sexual exploitation of children in care. Although there is a brief mention of historical institutional abuse and gangs targeting children in care (p.140), it would have been wise to include more on this topic, perhaps questioning care workers and other adult participants as to their opinions on this issue.
However, any such omissions are not a substantial weakness, especially when one considers the detailed conclusions and recommendations in Part III of the book. Shaw is able to synthesize her findings with existing policy, summarizing current practices as well as recommending future steps which should be taken by children’s homes. The conclusion of this book contains ample information, and could be of real benefit to practitioners and the care system itself. Shaw’s concluding remarks reflect the fact that she is comfortable with applying her findings to the ‘real world’ and that this book is not purely an academic text. This is something which is apparent throughout the book; and, along with the importance given to the children’s voices, is the standout feature of the text. Like much of the book, Part III feels contemporary, is easy to read and demonstrates the author’s expertise in the subject matter.
Residential Children’s Homes and the Youth Justice System reads as an informative text, full of contemporary information and detailed analysis. Although the book would have benefitted from a wider ranging literature review, this is one of the few criticisms that can be levelled at it. Overall, Shaw ensures that there is ample detail and vivid first-hand accounts from children in care. Through this primary data, the author is able to show that children in care can be both the victims and perpetrators of criminal and delinquent activity. Shaw does not overly rely on her own past research, and ensures that a multiplicity of views are included to give a fresh feel to the text. This book will provide both students and practitioners with a comprehensive account of the experiences of children in care.
Dev Maitra, PhD Candidate, Institute of Criminology, University of Cambridge
References
Ministry of Justice Research Series 2/11 (2012) Prisoners’ childhood and family backgrounds. Results from Surveying Prisoner Crime Reduction (SPCR) longitudinal cohort study of prisoners. London: Ministry of Justice.
Community Courts to Address Youth Offending: A Lost Opportunity?
Articles
Nathan Monk
Published | 15/06/2015 |
Type | Article |
Author(s) | Susie Atherton |
Corresponding Authors | Susie Atherton, PhD Student, De Montfort University |
DOA | |
DOI |
This article presents an account of the work of community courts in the USA (in Red Hook, Brooklyn) and the UK, specifically to examine the ways in which youth offending is, or can be, addressed. It is pertinent to explore the work of these courts, in light of cuts to youth services and concerns about the use of prison for young people in the UK. Community courts, like many community justice initiatives offer an alternative way to address low level but more prevalent offending which affects citizens’ quality of life (Wolf, 2006). They adopt a problem solving approach, in dialogue with the defendant and offer the support and means by which to address their needs and enable desistance (Karp & Clear, 2000). This article suggests that young people at risk of offending and young offenders in particular could benefit from this approach as it offers a form of intervention, diversion from the YJS and problem solving approaches, more in line with the ethos of youth work (Wood & Hine, 2013). It examines the work of Community Justice Centres (CJCs) and community courts in the framework of desistance and social capital theories, to understand how they can offer a viable alternative to current provisions.
Introduction
The focus on youth offending and youth justice policy is timely due to the significant impact spending cuts have had on youth services, stubbornly high re-offending rates (up to 68%) for those leaving youth custody (NACRO, 2011; Ministry of Justice, 2013) and the continued demonization of youth, especially as offenders, in the media. Official statistics tell us the number of young people entering the Youth Justice System (YJS) has declined, as has the number in custody (Ministry of Justice, 2013). However, concerns remain about the complex needs of young offenders, especially those in custody, as 33% of them have been in care, 17% report special educational needs (the national figure is 3%), 69% link their re-offending to substance misuse and 63% reported needing help with accommodation (Youth Justice Board, 2015). In addition, there are increases in incidences of self-harm in Youth Offender Institutions (YOIs), attributed to the conditions and regime, where young people can find themselves locked up for 23 hours a day (Bateman, 2015). Despite these concerns, the YJS seems to persist in policies to control and punish (Muncie & Hughes, 2002; Muncie, 2006), with a focus on formal responses, such as youth offending teams (YOTs), numerous sanctions in the community and custodial sentences. Whilst youth courts do operate in a less formal way than Magistrates’ and Crown courts, their function is one of administering justice through punishment and messages of deterrence, with some acknowledgement to risk factors through YOT assessments (Youth Justice Board, 2013).
Community justice centres (CJCs) in the USA and community courts in the UK aim to deal with low level offending and anti-social behaviour, improve citizens’ quality of life and offer alternatives to adversarial court processes, using a problem solving approach. This can identify the contributory factors or causes of offending, which can then be addressed through the courts signposting services (Mair & Millings, 2011) or in the case of CJCs, providing services co-located within the court (Karp & Clear, 2000; Wolf, 2006). CJCs and community courts offer a way for offenders to access resources and networks which previously they have been unaware of or excluded from, such as education and treatment for mental health and/or substance misuse issues. In the USA, CJCs offer this to young people, as part of the community they serve and are geographically located in (Wolf, 2006), whereas community courts in the UK, as part of the Magistrates’ court system, follow the principles of problem solving by signposting offenders to services to meet their needs (Llewelyn-Thomas & Prior, 2007; Mair & Millings, 2011). The ethos of youth work is to value informal practice and voluntary participation (Jeffs & Smith, 2005), working within the framework of legal processes for young offenders (Wood & Hine, 2013). This fits with the approach of CJCs and community courts, to acknowledge the legal requirements of the courts, using the courtroom as a place for this and also to identify needs and present solutions. CJCs in the USA use peer group youth courts, to deal with misdemeanours by young people (Anderson, 1999), and both community courts in the USA and UK adopt less formal approaches to listen to the offender (defendants must enter a guilty plea to have access to the services of the community court) and try to understand how the local community can support them (Llewelyn-Thomas & Prior, 2007).
This article will consider how CJCs in the USA and community courts in the UK can address youth crime and deviance, in the framework of social capital and desistance theory to explore the individual and social factors which put young people at risk of offending or re-offending (Home Office, 2006). Social capital theory assesses the resources and networks accessible by citizens to solve problems and reach their potential (Bourdieu, 1986; Coleman, 1990; ONS, 2001; Leonard & Onyx, 2007) and desistance theory has developed understanding about the various mechanisms ex-offenders adopt to cease offending. This includes changing self-identity (Laub & Sampson, 2003), maturation and the development of social bonds (Maruna, 2001) and establishing offenders’ ‘locus of control’ (Farrall & Calverley, 2006), i.e. whether capacity to change is part of their identity, or something they attribute to those around them. CJCs and community courts work in partnership with a range of agencies, and in the case of CJCs are physically located in the community they serve, so it is important to understand how well the community can support its more vulnerable citizens and those with complex needs. Desistance theory describes the personal and social contexts of ex-offenders attempting to change (King, 2012), along with the need to develop social bonds, so the local community and state agencies become an important part of these processes. Community courts need to signpost and refer offenders to services, such as healthcare, housing assistance, out of school activities for young people and charities, which are all forms of social capital ‘resources’. It is also important to understand how well citizens are aware of these, able to access them and even participate in their provision. The networks required for this are identified by social capital theory, and Putnam (2000) describes this well as two different forms of social capital, bridging and bonding. He suggests that ‘bonding social capital constitutes a kind of sociological super glue, whereas bridging social capital provides a sociological WD40′ (2009:19). Bridging social capital is necessary for galvanising citizens into action, whereas bonding social capital is necessary in order to facilitate the coexistence of citizens in a community. These can be tested by the impact of crime and disorder, and there are concerns that forms of bonding social capital can exclude those who do not fit established norms (Garland, 1990). In light of this, it becomes clear what can hinder the work of CJCs and community courts, if the provisions needed to meet the complex needs of young offenders are not in place, and networks are affected by citizens’ negative perceptions of young offenders. Mair and Millings (2011) emphasise the ‘community engagement’ role of the CJC in North Liverpool, which has now closed down, and this was clearly important to inform citizens of the work of the community court and how it could help them to consider new ways of ‘doing justice.’ Therefore, this article will explore the potential for community courts in the UK to better assess the needs of young people as offenders or at risk of offending, within the legal requirements of the YJS and working in line with the ethos of other youth services.
Community justice centres and community courts
CJCs emerged in the USA in the early 1990s, the first being the Midtown Community Court in Manhattan and followed closely by Red Hook, in Brooklyn. The Red Hook CJC provided court services and a range of support services for all local residents, such as activities for young people, drug and alcohol treatment and access to education and training (Llewellyn-Thomas & Prior, 2007). The broader aims of the court are to improve the quality of life for residents, offering a ‘dual commitment to changing the lives of individual offenders and the quality of life in communities’ (Lee et al., 2013:3) by dealing with misdemeanours and offering alternatives to custody and fines. Offenders were also strictly monitored to ensure compliance with their sentence, which could include treatment for health issues such as addiction, social services, housing and access to work placements (ibid). A review of the achievements of the Red Hook CJC demonstrated it had also transformed the local community, into a place where residents felt safe and expressed greater confidence in the justice system, meaning that 10 years after its’ introduction, the CJC is a ‘prominent fixture in the Red Hook neighborhood’ and ‘arguably the best known community court in the world’ (Lee et al., 2013:3). Another feature of the Red Hook CJC was the use of young people in the court to deal with youth offending, using peer ‘pressure’ in a more positive way and also peer mentoring to ensure support was offered before deviant or low level criminal behaviour escalated. The youth court ran in conjunction with education provision, again as a means to offer additional support to young people who were struggling at school and in some cases, excluded (ibid).
In 2005, the Red Hook CJC model was piloted in North Liverpool, following the Red Hook model, the court was located in the community it served and incorporated a range of support services and facilities for local residents. An evaluation of this model in North Liverpool demonstrated residents were generally positive about the initiative, particularly with having access to services local to them (Llewellyn-Thomas & Prior, 2007). In November 2006, the Government announced plans to launch 10 new Community Courts, across England and Wales, making use of existing magistrates’ court buildings and resources, rather than providing a purpose built centre. The North Liverpool CJC (NLCJC) and other community courts had young offenders as part of their caseload, but they did not make use of peers to run a distinct youth court. Mair and Milling’s (2011) study into the NLCJC describes this approach as combining ‘a unique court process with wider community resource provision’ (p.3), designed to improve the relationship between other CJS professionals and the community, taking a problem solving approach, with clear leadership, co-location with other agencies and providing a resource and focal point for the community. It was viewed as an innovative approach, especially in relation to trying to solve the problems presented by offenders, whilst also offering services to others in the community affected by crime and disorder. Mair and Milling’s (2011) study focused on the aim of ‘community engagement’ as part of the work of NLCJC, describing it as an ongoing process, which previous studies have found difficult to quantify and demonstrate (Mckenna, 2007; Llewellyn-Thomas & Prior, 2007) primarily because they conducted research too soon after the introduction of the court (ibid).
CJCs have adopted the principles of restorative justice, to support victims and repair harms, but also to confront offenders with the consequences of their behaviour, as part of the problem solving approach (Marshall, 1999; Johnstone, 2013). Bowen and Whitehead (2013) suggest that more innovative, fairer, faster and ‘people focused’ courts can cut crime and make the court system more efficient. Courts are still perceived as resistant to change, however, there are examples of innovation such as diverting low level disorder offences to restorative programmes, providing advice to those with addiction and/or mental health issues and implementing better monitoring of offenders (Walsh, 2003; Burton, 2006). According to Bowen and Whitehead (2013), four key principles underpin these innovations – fairness, focus on victims and offenders as people needing help, authority in sentencing decisions and acting swiftly in response to breaches. There are however barriers to this, alongside resistance among some judiciary to adopt changes, it remains challenging for judges and court managers to innovate due to legal and resource constraints. Bowen and Whitehead (2013) cite a number of recommendations to achieve innovation in courts, giving more authority at a local level, embracing other forms of justice for low level offending, training to improve communication between courts and services in the community which can help offenders and extending supervision, as found in CJCs and community courts.
Desistance and social capital and youth justice policy
Desistance theorists emphasise the need to take into consideration a range of individual and structural factors which can lead to cessation of offending, for example Laub and Simpson (2003) refer to ‘institutional turning points’ such as employment, having a family or joining the military. On an individual basis, there is a need for a change of self-identity and putting criminal-self firmly in the past. Maruna (2001) emphasises the need for ex-offenders to develop social bonds, and go through the processes of maturation and realisation of the impact of their behaviour. This requires belief that change can occur, which can depend on their ‘locus of control’, whether they believe they have the capacity to change, or that external factors have to change first (Farrall and Calverley, 2006). Farrall (2002) suggests also the need for human and social capital, i.e. resources on an individual level, and living in a community which offers opportunities for sustainable change. King (2012) suggests the central challenge is to develop both personal and social contexts so that ex-offenders can make use of support offered and opportunities that arise. The Social Exclusion Unit (2002) demonstrated the impact of sustained disadvantage experienced by all ages of offenders as a risk factor for re-offending, emphasising the complexity in finding ways to help them desist from offending, i.e. identifying the interplay between changing external social conditions and individual capacity to change.
Leonard and Onyx (2007) describe social capital as:
‘A durable network of more or less institutionalized relationships of mutual acquaintance and recognition – or in other words, to membership of a group – which provides each of its members with the backing of the collectively-owned capital, a ‘credential’ which entitles them to credit, in the various senses of the word.’ (2007:51)
The application of social capital theory in social policy encompasses healthcare, economics, education and also criminal justice, looking at community based approaches making use of resources in the community to prevent crime and reduce re-offending (Halpern, 1999; Campbell et al., 1999; Putnam, 2000; Ferguson & Mindel, 2007). Bonding and bridging forms of social capital (Putnam, 2000) emphasise that the existence of community based resources is not enough, ex-offenders and others need to be aware of those resources and be able to access them, and services need to have the capacity to help all those in need. Boeck and Flemming (2005) have explored social capital in relation to social policy for young people, in the context of viewing it as a community resource, offering engagement, reciprocity, trust, agreed norms and cohesion. They argue that social capital offers a ‘work in progress’ (p262), a means by which policy and practice can consider the presence and quality of networks in a community which can offer prospects for improvement, particularly those which exist between the state, citizens and the voluntary sector (Jeffs & Smith, 2005). Legal processes may challenge this ethos, through court orders which demand compliance or curfews which restrict movement, but it is possible to work with young offenders within this framework and trying to maintain the principles which have guided youth workers. This includes a focus on acknowledging the role of active citizenship, social capital and different approaches to the administration of justice (Wood & Hine, 2013). The problem solving approach and focus on improving quality of life for the local community found in CJCs and community courts embraces aspects of social capital, to build networks and resources for citizens (Karp & Clear, 2000; Ferguson & Mindel, 2007) and promotes community engagement, through working with voluntary groups and residents to create conditions in which desistance can occur (Mair & Millings, 2011; King, 2012). Operating with the legal framework of the court system legitimises CJCs and community courts, which while they remain a key part of the CJS or YJS, are presenting viable alternatives and more efficient ways of working (Bowen & Whitehead, 2013).
Although there is a decrease in the number of young people going to court and in custody (NACRO, 2011) re-offending rates remain high at 68% (Ministry of Justice, 2013), and young offenders in particular face continued scrutiny and labelling as a ‘social problem’, with their offending arguably attracting disproportionate attention and negative perceptions not always based on direct experiences (Hough & Roberts, 2004; France, 2008). Young people also seem to be disregarded as victims, even of serious crimes, such as shown in the recent events in Rotherham and Oxford (Jay, 2014). Brown suggests:
‘Except in conjunction with the ideology of childhood ‘innocence’ – itself increasingly shaken by the demonization of ever younger age groups – the predominant categorizations of youth do not sit easily within a ‘victim’ discourse…in popular and policy discourse such issues are often treated with cynicism, disdain or vehement denial.’ (1998:116-7)
It is suggested that young people as victims face different perceptions to other groups and the focus on them as offenders has justified a shift in criminal justice and social policy to control, coerce and punish, rather than focus on welfare and support (Muncie & Hughes, 2002; Muncie, 2006). The risk factors associated with young offending, according to the Home Office (2006) occur around four domains, family, school, community and the individual. This study identified more specific risk factors of criminal behaviour in the family, poverty, impulsive behaviour, poor parenting and low school attendance and lower educational achievements. An earlier study (Lyon et al., 2000), developed some key recommendations for policy, based on messages from young people in custody, including to avoid blaming parents, to improve the conditions in communities where crime was normalised, to be tougher on school truancy and to make better use of peer pressure and mentoring. CJCs in the USA have embraced peer group approaches for young offenders, to focus on ‘misdemeanours’ such as truancy, to offer early intervention in an environment where young people understand their welfare is as much a focus as their behaviour (Lee et al., 2013).
Policy to address youth offending, such as sanctions in the form of curfews up to custodial sentences, are implemented alongside multi-agency responses in the form of Youth Offending Teams (YOTs) and restorative justice policies. This presents a range of policies which aim to control, manage risk, address multiple problems and divert young people from the CJS (Holdaway et al., 2001; Crawford & Newburn, 2003). YOTS are a significant aspect of youth justice, introduced in the Crime and Disorder Act (1998), to require a more formal mechanism to bring agencies together to address young offenders’ needs (Crawford & Newburn, 2003). CJCs and community courts combine the formal requirements of courts with less formal approaches found in restorative justice, enhanced by partnerships with agencies for the courts to refer offenders, whether as part of their local community or co-located with the court. The problem solving ethos is important, but must be done in line with the legal requirements of courts, such as monitoring and follow up appearances to ensure compliance (Mair & Millings, 2011; Lee et al., 2013).
Youth courts distinguish themselves from adult magistrates’ courts through having less formal practices, using first names for example, to deal with cases for defendants aged 10-17, for offences such as theft and burglary, anti-social behaviour and drug offences, with more serious cases going to the Crown Court (Ministry of Justice, 2013). This presents an obvious limitation of CJCs and community courts, in that they cannot deal with more serious crime, however, in comparing them to youth courts, their focus on problem solving, having a dialogue with the offender and using peer pressure offers mechanisms which look beyond legal processes and the administration of justice, with genuine attempts to address the causes of offending and therefore prevent re-offending, and potential escalation into more serious crime.
The recent cuts to services for young people who accessed out of school hours services to connect with peers in a safe environment and to form social bonds within their community beyond family and school raises particular concerns, specifically on the impact on young ex-offenders’ community and its capacity to support them in making changes (UNISON, 2014). In recent years, policy and practice to address youth offending and deviance has been characterised by the inclusion of multiple agencies and sectors providing programmes designed to offer structure and opportunity for leisure and learning (Wood & Hine, 2013). The Coalition Government’s policy, ‘Positive for Youth policy’, focused on giving young people a ‘sense of belonging…supportive relationships, strong ambitions and good opportunities they need to realise their potential’ (Wood & Hine, 2013:4). These are enticing aims, yet alongside this are more coercive and controlling measures for young offenders, who have fewer rights in public life and face increasing instability and uncertainty, not experienced by previous generations (Furlong & Cartmel, 2007). CJCs and community courts cannot replace youth services, but they do offer a form of early intervention and support to divert young people at risk of offending from the YJS and more formal sanctions, and in the case of CJCs in the USA, drop in services for young people who need support with their education, health and a means by which to ‘bond’ with their local community.
Risk based approaches in youth justice policy, seek to assess and manage risks of offending, such as social exclusion, low school attendance, negative peer influences and deviant behaviour, which has ‘widened the net’ of youth justice to include those young people who haven’t yet committed a crime (Yates, 2009). Targeted approaches are favoured in place of welfarist approaches, an example of this being the ‘Troubled Families’ programme, which sought to provide intensive support and monitoring for 120,000 families facing multiple issues of long term unemployment, truancy among children, contact with the CJS and mental health issues. Recent figures promoted this as a success in saving tax payers £1.2billion through helping 105,671 families, as claimed by Eric Pickles, Secretary of State for Communities and Local Government (Wintour, 2015). However, there have been criticisms of this, in that the figures claimed to be saved are inaccurate and the unsustainability of such an approach, especially in an age of austerity which is arguably contributing to some of the issues the families face (ibid). This emphasises the need for earlier interventions to address low level offending and in the case of young people, deviancy such as truancy or anti-social behaviour. CJCs in the USA offer an important focal point and form a prominent part of the community, where any member of community, be they offenders or residents can drop in to access support services and address problems. Whilst community courts are not physically located in the community they serve, they still offer or signpost services aiming to solve problems, provide early intervention and diversion from the CJS and also deal with ‘misdemeanours’ or low level crime and deviance. Such a resource could mean young people and their families have access to support and resources which prevent them from requiring such intensive intervention as the Troubled Families programme, given the concerns about its effectiveness and sustainability.
Conclusion
Although CJCs in the UK have ‘come and gone’ (the NLCJC was closed down in 2013), the community court ‘approach’ remains in place within magistrates’ courts and could offer ways to meet the needs of young offenders. In the context of the high re-offending rates, concerns about the use of custody for young people and cuts to services, community courts offer a mechanism to intervene and divert young people from the YJS, using an approach which aims to solve problems and address the risks of re-offending. These principles are aligned to youth work and restorative justice, as alternatives to adversarial models, which support offenders, recompense victims and restore harm to the community (Marshall, 1999; Johnstone, 2013). The domains of risk identified by the Home Office (2006) emphasise the role of community and its conditions which can help or hinder young peoples’ prospects, along with their school, family and their own capacity for change. Community is a difficult term to define and apply in policy (Hughes, 2007; Shapland, 2008), but within the framework of social capital, it is possible to observe the conditions which promote safety and acceptance of ex-offenders, along with assessing the resources and networks in place in which ex-offenders can take up opportunities to help them desist from crime.
Desistance theorists state that ceasing crime is a complex process, an interplay between individual’s capacity to change and having access to resources and networks to enable this. If rehabilitation programmes focus only on changing offenders ‘locus of control’ (Farrall and Caverley, 2006), a lack of opportunities and amenities in a community may impede the drive to change. Additionally, not dealing with the offenders’ negative ‘self-identity’ (Laub & Sampson, 2003) can mean they don’t embrace opportunities or struggle to comply with such opportunities which form a condition of their sentence. Young ex-offenders need to form bonds, a sense of something to lose if they re-offend (Maruna, 2001), but knowing which area of their lives to focus on can be difficult without consultation with them and providing a proper forum to allow for this discussion. The approach of enabling a dialogue with the offender in CJCs and community courts means professionals can better identify their needs, rather than imposing categories from existing risk assessment tools or sentencing guidelines. Offenders may feel more in control of their case outcome and therefore may be more inclined to take advantage of opportunities (King, 2012).
YOTs offer a targeted, multi-agency response and involve CJS and other agencies to support young offenders as well as monitoring their compliance to their sentence (Crawford & Newburn, 2003; Pycroft & Gough, 2010). Whilst YOTs are well placed to deal with high risk offenders, CJCs and community courts have a role in dealing with low level crime, crucially to divert young people from the YJS. The intensive supervision and interventions of YOTs are not appropriate for those young offenders engaged in lower level crime and deviance, whereas CJCs and community courts offer a forum where such behaviour can be addressed. CJCs in particular aim to serve the community in which they are located, becoming a social capital resource for all community members to use, as they offer help and support to those not engaged in the CJS as well as those who are (Karp & Clear, 2000). Bowen and Whitehead (2013) cite a need for change in judiciary process, based on their research into the effectiveness of more traditional court systems, with their findings emphasising the need for fairness, support for victims and offenders, efficiency and maintaining the authority of the sentencing process.
CJCs and community courts can provide both formal and informal means by which to address offending, which can be important for those outside of this process, in order to see ‘justice being done.’ For young offenders, especially those who have not committed a crime, but have engaged in deviant behaviour, restorative approaches are appropriate, but if there is a need for them to face the courts, then CJCs and community courts can provide a forum in which this can be done, using positive peer pressure and mentoring as well as taking a problem solving approach to their case, in line with youth work policies which aim to bring about a sense of belonging, support and opportunities for change (Wood & Hine, 2013). CJCs and community courts which deal with young offending and attempt to address problems in dialogue with the offender can work well alongside youth services and other agencies to enhance the potential for change and reduce the risk of re-offending. CJCs and community courts working with probation services can order participation in programmes to address behaviour and change the ‘criminal self’ (e.g. Laub & Sampson, 2003), but can also provide a form of social capital in the local community where ex-offenders can be given the opportunity and means by which to ensure a change in prospects and desistance from offending.
Community courts in the UK are still being used, in that the principles of this approach are embedded in the existing magistrates’ court system, but this has required a change of approach for judiciary and if this change is not maintained and passed to others, this could jeopardise existing courts. The use of outreach services as part of the CJC model can better inform the public, and form an important part of the work of CJCs and community courts to engage local residents and create a community where ex-offenders are accepted and supported (Mair & Millings, 2011). Agencies and organisations use social networking sites, for example Neighbourhood Policing Teams, charities and organisations such as UNITE (who offer mediation and restorative justice) to promote their work, as a means of consulting with the local community and to report on incidents which have affected the community.
Perhaps if the community court model had greater prominence in the court system and CJS, it’s role in addressing youth crime could be recognised as meeting the specific features of this and the needs of young offenders and victims. Given the question of the effectiveness of the current court system, and the need for approaches which address multiple needs on an individual and broader community level, CJCs and community courts could present a viable alternative. Whilst purpose built centres such as North Liverpool are costly and perhaps an unrealistic ideal model, using the principles of the community court within the framework of existing magistrates’, or combined courts can offer a useful forum for certain types of offending, particularly to fit with the approaches and policies of other agencies and sectors who work with young people. There are challenges to the work of CJCs and community courts, when we consider aspects of bonding and bridging social capital which can exclude ex-offenders in the community, or where services to help them are simply unavailable. CJCs and community courts address young offending in a supportive environment, within a legal framework to ensure compliance, using problem solving and restorative approaches which the wider community may better respond to and even participate in, as is found in the Red Hook CJC. Desistance is not simply about requiring an individual to cease offending, it needs understanding of their capacity to change and also knowing that the community in which they live will have the resources and networks, or social capital to enable and allow change. CJCs and community courts do have limitations, but they offer potential as a resource to divert young people from the more formal processes of the YJS and custodial sentences, and they acknowledge the importance of the values of youth work to support young people, listen to them and consider different ways of ‘doing justice’.
References
Anderson, D. C. (1999) Kids, Courts and Communities: Lessons from the Red Hook Youth Court, Center for Court Innovation, New York.
Bateman, T. (2015) Resettlement of Young People Leaving Custody: Lessons from the Literature, Beyond Youth Custody, London.
Boeck, T. and Fleming, J. (2005) Social Policy – A Help or a Hindrance to Social Capital? Social Policy and Society, 4 (3) 259-270.
Bourdieu, P. (1986) ‘The forms of capital’, in: J. Richardson (Ed.) Handbook of Theory and Research for the Sociology of Education, pp. 241-258. New York: Greenwood.
Bowen, P. and Whitehead, S. (2013) Better courts: Cutting crime through court innovation, New Economics Foundation and Centre for Justice Innovation.
Brown, S. (1998) Understanding Youth and Crime: Listening to Youth? Oxford University Press.
Burton, M. (2006) Judicial Monitoring of Compliance: Introducing ‘Problem Solving’ Approaches to Domestic Violence Courts in England and Wales, International Journal of Law, Policy and the Family, 20, (3).
Campbell, C. Wood, R. Kelly, M. (1999) Social and Capital Health, Health Education Authority, London.
Coleman, J. (1990) Foundations of Social Theory. Harvard University Press Cambridge.
Crawford, A. and Newburn, T. (2003) Youth Offending and Restorative Justice: Implementing Reform In Youth Justice, Willan Publishing, 2003.
Farrall, S. (2002) Rethinking What Works With Offenders, Cullompton: Willan.
Farrall, S. and Calverley, A. (2006) Understanding Desistance from Crime, Crime and Justice Series, London: Open University Press.
Ferguson, K. M., & Mindel, C. H. (2007). Modeling Fear of Crime in Dallas Neighborhoods: a Test of Social Capital Theory. Crime and Delinquency, 53(2), 322-349.
France, A. (2008) ‘Risk factor analysis and the youth question’, Journal of Youth Studies, 11 (1): 1-15.
Furlong, A. and Cartmel, F. (2007) Young People and Social Change, 2nd edn, Berkshire: Open University Press.
Garland, D. (1990) Punishment and Modern Society: A Study in Social Theory, Oxford University Press.
Halpern, D. (1999) Social capital: the new golden goose. Faculty of Social and Political Sciences, Cambridge University. Unpublished review.
Holdaway, S., Davidson, N., Dignan, J., Hammersley, R., Hine, J. and Marsh, P. (2001) New Strategies to Address Youth Offending: The National Evaluation of the Pilot Youth Offending Teams. Research, Development and Statistics Directorate Paper No. 69. London: Home Office.
Hough, J.V. and Roberts, J.M. (2004) Youth Crime and Youth Justice: Public Opinion in England and Wales, Policy Press.
Home Office (2006) Rebalancing the criminal justice system in favour of the law abiding majority: Cutting crime, reducing re-offending and protecting the public. London: Home Office.
Hughes, G. (2007) The Politics of Crime and Community, Palgrave, MacMillan.
Jay, A. (2014) Independent Inquiry into Child Sexual Exploitation in Rotherham 1997 – 2013, Report Commissioned by Rotherham Borough Council.
Jeffs, T. and Smith, M. K. (2005) Informal Education: Conversation, Democracy and Learning, 3rd edn, Nottingham: Educational Heretics Press.
Johnstone, G. (ed.) (2013) A Restorative Justice Reader, 2nd edition (London: Routledge).
Karp, D and Clear, T. (2000) Community Justice: A Conceptual Framework, Criminal Justice, 2: 323-368.
King, S. (2012) Transformative Agency and desistance from crime, Criminology and Criminal Justice, 13 (3).
Laub, J. and Sampson, R. (2003) Shared Beginnings, Divergent Lives: Delinquent Boys to Age Seventy. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Lee. C.G., Cheesman, F.L II., Rottman, D.B., Swaner, R., Lambson, S. Rempel, M. and Curtis. R. (2013) A Community Court Grows in Brooklyn: A Comprehensive Evaluation Of The Red Hook Community Justice Center, Final Report, Center for State Courts, National Center for State Courts and Center for Court Innovation.
Leonard, R. and Onyx, J. (2007) Social Capital and Community Building: Spinning Straw into Gold, London: Janus Publishing Company.
Llewelyn-Thomas, S. and Prior, G. (2007) North Liverpool Community Justice Centre: Surveys of Local Residents, Ministry of Justice, London.
Lyon, J., Dennison, C. and Wilson, A. (2000) ‘Tell Them So They Listen’: Messages from Young People in Custody. Home Office Research Study 201. London: Home Office.
Mair, G. and Millings, M. (2011) Doing Justice Locally: The North Liverpool Community Justice Centre, Centre for Crime and Justice Studies, London.
Marshall, T. F. (1999). Restorative Justice: An Overview Home Office. Research Development and Statistics Directorate. London, UK.
Maruna, S. (2001) Making Good: How Ex-Convicts Reform and Rebuild Their Lives. Washington DC: American Psychological Association Books.
McKenna, K. (2007), Evaluation of the North Liverpool Community Justice Centre, London: Ministry of Justice.
Ministry of Justice (2013) Transforming Youth Custody Putting education at the heart of detention, Ministry of Justice, London.
Muncie, J. (2006) Governing Young People: Coherence and contradiction in contemporary youth justice. Critical Social Policy, 26 (4): 770-93.
Muncie, J. and Hughes, G. (2002) ‘Modes of youth governance: political rationalities, criminalisation and resistance’ in Muncie, J., Hughes, G. and McLaughlin, E. (Eds) Youth Justice: Critical Readings, London, Sage.
NACRO (2011) Reducing the number of children and young people in custody, NACRO, London.
Office for National Statistics (2001) Social Capital: A review of the literature Social Analysis and Reporting Division, Office for National Statistics.
Putnam, R. (2000) Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community. New York: Simon and Schuster.
Pycroft, A. and Gough, D., eds. (2010) Multi-agency working in criminal justice: control and care in contemporary correctional practice. Policy Press, Bristol.
Shapland, J. (2008) Justice, Community and Civil Society: A contested terrain, Routledge, London.
Social Exclusion Unit (2002) Reducing Reoffending by Ex-prisoners. London: Office of the Deputy Prime Minister
UNISON (2014) The UK’s youth services: How cuts are removing opportunities for young people and damaging their lives, UNISON London
Walsh, C. (2003) The Trend Towards Specialisation: West Yorkshire Innovations In Drugs And Domestic Violence Courts, Howard Journal Of Criminal Justice, 40(1): 26-38.
Wintour, P. (2015) More than 105,000 households ‘helped by troubled families programme‘, The Guardian http://www.theguardian.com/society/2015/mar/10/more-than-105000-households-helped-by-troubled-families-programme
Wolf, R.V. (2006) Community Justice around the Globe: An International Overview, Crime & Justice International, 22 (93).
Wood, J. and Hine, J. (2013) ‘Policy, Practice and Research in Work with Young People, in S. Curran, R. Harrison and D Mackinnon, Working with Young People, Sage: London.
Yates, S. (2009) ‘Good practice in guidance: lessons from Connexions’, in J. Wood and J. Hine (Eds) Work with Young People, London: Sage.
Youth Justice Board (2013) National standards for youth justice services, Youth Justice Board for England and Wales.
Doing Time with Lifers: A Reflective Study of Life Sentence Prisoners
Articles
Nathan Monk
Published | 15/03/2015 |
Type | Article |
Author(s) | David Honeywell |
Corresponding Authors | David Honeywell, Criminology Lecturer, Leeds Beckett University & PhD candidate, University of York |
DOA | |
DOI |
We constantly hear the public’s outcry that “life should mean life!” and that anyone convicted of murder should never see the light of day again. This reflective study is auto-ethnographic drawing from informal interviews, observations and life stories with prison inmates serving life sentences for murder with the aim of estimating the effect incarceration has on their lives during their time in prison and how they prepare for release through adopting new identities. Between January 1996 and February 1998 I spent two years living closely with several life sentence prisoners during which time I gained access and an insight into a secret world in which only a fellow prisoner would ever be permitted. The mirror image of their tragic existences also gave me an insight into my own disintegrating lifestyle which would eventually have the most profound effect on my own desistance journey. The lifer culture was like a secret society which separated itself from the rest of the prison subculture and hierarchy and yet was oppressed by and subservient to the Criminal Justice System. At the core of this study is the ‘self’ and the changing process that takes place throughout a lifer’s personal journey during the nurturing of their own identities while preparing themselves for the outside world. It is also about their views of the changing world around them and their relationship with the prison population from which they were desperate to disassociate themselves from in order to develop an identity that bears no resemblance to the identity they possessed before they were imprisoned. This introspective transition from killer to respectable citizen was easier than many would perhaps imagine because for these first and only time offenders, their most alarming factor was their ordinariness.
Introduction
Between 1996 and 1998, while serving a five year prison sentence I spent two years and six months integrated within the lifer community. Although I was not a lifer myself, I had requested to be moved from the chaotic landings – where hordes of short term prisoners created havoc on a daily basis – to a more stabilising environment where the bulk of the population was serving long term sentences. As I became more acquainted and accepted by the lifer fraternity, I began to learn of their individual stories. Also during this time and in no small part influenced by several of the lifers, I enrolled on an Open University social sciences programme. I immediately embraced my new student identity (Meek et al., 2012; Bilby, 2013; Pike, 2013) and began to use my current surroundings as a platform to practice my new research skills on my fellow prisoners. Because of my predicament, it was not possible for any formal ethical approval but still I felt that the oral histories of these men should be shared. I did however try to follow some formal research protocol that I had learned through being a social sciences student. I explained to them from the outset that if I got the opportunity to publish their stories I would use pseudonyms and also change the names of places they talked about and the prisons we were in so as not to allow their stories to be easily identifiable but at the same time keeping it accurate and truthful. Therefore, the names of prisoners, places – such as where offences were committed – and the prisons have all been hanged. I did not have the luxury of a quiet room to conduct my interviews except occasionally we had use of the Chapel meeting room where we could talk in private – with the blessing of the prison Chaplain – without any intrusion from staff members and other prisoners.
I also took advantage of quieter moments during exercise and association periods either in mine or one of the lifer’s cells or on the exercise yard where we were able to talk in depth. Because during exercise period, prisoners tend to walk around in groups, I was able to use this opportunity to converse with several at one time. Bonding with the lifer community was a slow process and it was not possible to bond with all of them. It was a very careful selectiveness. I had to be sure I was choosing the right group of people who I felt could be open and honest with me but also emotionally stable enough to share intimate memories of their life stories. As well as this there had to be mutual trust between myself and the men in order for them to feel comfortable. Once I had achieved this and had gained the trust of a selected few, there were few aspects to their personal lives and crimes that they would not share. It was not a relationship of researcher and participant. We were friends and fellow prisoners. As former prisoner turned professor, John Irwin had done for his study on lifers in 2009, I did not select my participants using any kind of sampling method. I just interviewed those I had got to know over time and it was because of this I was allowed to gain a unique insight into their lives. However, the difference between my study and that of John Irwin’s is that I conducted my study while I was still a serving prisoner (Irwin, 2009). During this time, while I was collating prisoner narratives with the aim of sharing firsthand accounts of the lifer experience, a group of ex-prisoners turned academics in the USA with similar ideas of writing from an insider perspective was emerging called the Convict Criminology Organisation (see Newbold et al., 2014). They organised workshops, participated in academic conferences, and published scholarly work to build a perspective they called “The New School of Convict Criminology” (Richards & Ross, 2003). Fourteen years later I became acquainted with the Convict Criminology Organisation when I was invited by Professor Stephen Richards from the University of Wisconsin (an ex-convict himself) to submit a reworked chapter (Honeywell, 2015), from my autobiography, Never Ending Circles (Honeywell, 2012).
This gave me a framework from where to publish my work and by then the British Convict Criminology Organisation had also been formed (Aresti et al., 2012). At the time of writing this, the academic world seems to now be embracing auto-ethnographical writing. As Earle (2011) observes, prison ethnographers in the United Kingdom have offered rich and diverse accounts of prison life and prisoners’ views and experiences have been for the most part, reported with sensitivity, creativity and insight. However, the actual voices of prisoners, and of ex-prisoners who are now prison researchers, have been relatively subdued. This is echoed by Bennett and Crewe (2012), who claim: “Little of what we know about prison comes from the mouths of prisoners, and very few academic accounts of prison life manage to convey some of its most profound and important features – its daily pressures and frustrations, the culture of the wings and landings, and the relationships which shape the everyday experience of being imprisoned.” (Bennett & Crewe, 2012: ii, cited in Earle, 2011:32).
For reasons I outlined earlier, it was not possible to produce official field notes or recorded discussions, however I did make notes using Teeline shorthand which I had taught myself from a textbook over the first six months of my time in prison. I used shorthand to prevent scrutiny from prison officers during cell searches. I also made regular diary entries. All of the lifers were very supportive, giving their full consent with a shared view that the public needed to be made aware about the truth of their predicament of being a lifer. None of the men made excuses for their crimes or were claiming any injustice by the courts.
The participants’ demographic details
MIKE – had almost served 13 years of his sentence when I first met him. He projected a lot of self-confidence yet appeared somewhat aloof. His whole persona made me think he was a member of staff. Several months later we were to become cellmates when I revealed this to him. He gave me a broad grin. He took it as a compliment. His offence had been murder though he could have been sentenced to a lesser charge of manslaughter had he not been overheard threatening to kill his victim three weeks before shooting him in the arm with a double barrel shotgun. He said it was in fact his intention to just wound him. He did exactly that but later his victim died from his injuries. I felt that his example certainly puts things into perspective for those who publicly say things in the heat of the moment. He was so unlike most of the other prisoners that he was outcast by some of them and accused of being a ‘grass’ (informant). He had a certain rapport with staff members which is frowned upon by the general prisoner community – seen as fraternising with the enemy.
BEN – was very quiet but very approachable once you gained his trust. He had a wife who since his incarceration had started co-habiting with his now former best friend. He was loyal and trustworthy but his personal life and prison experience had embittered him over the years. He had explained how his so-called best friend had been the cause of this. Added to this, many years of long term imprisonment had added to his cynicism. He had become melancholy where he was so quiet and withdrawn, and at times, it was difficult to get him to open up. Ben found comfort from his faith as a Catholic and though I had no religious connotations myself, I found the Chapel community an excellent place to bond with several of the lifers. There seemed to be more lifers involved with the Chaplaincy than fixed termers and though many prisoners who turn to religion are accused of using it to try and get early release on parole, they seemed genuine in their religious pursuits at least while they were serving their Sentences. Ben was a very talented guitarist who had belonged to a band before his arrest 11 years earlier.
LES – was similar to Mike in that he had developed an image that was more akin with staff. I first met Les in the prison gymnasium where I approached him to ask how to use a piece of equipment. The reason I chose to ask Les was because I thought he was a member of staff – as I had Mike. They both exuded an air of authority which came from their own personal confidence. They held themselves with a certain poise and dignity and had kept their appearance neatly groomed, clean shaven and were polite in manner. Even their circumstances were similar in that both could have received the lesser charge of manslaughter but instead had received a life Sentence.
JOHN – had allegedly done his time as part of a biker’s pact – an innocent man who during his stint in prison had lost his wife to cancer. He was a very private person who I felt at total ease with. He didn’t display any signs of bitterness or anger towards the system. Sadly during the time I got to know John he contracted terminal cancer which mercilessly made its presence known for all and sundry to see in the form of a lump that grew from his neck to the size of a tennis ball. He was granted compassionate parole several weeks after his diagnosis but it was not the usual celebratory event as for most newly released prisoners. After serving 10 years in prison he was finally released and died only weeks later. I had been released myself when John died and recall one of the fellow lifers who had also since been released being quite angry towards the rest of the lifer community for not visiting John in hospital during his last days.
PETER – was serving life for a so-called ‘honour’ killing. He was a Sheik who used the English name, Peter. He had served eight years of his life tariff for taking his ceremonial sword to a family member and severing his head. When I approached the subject, this was all he was willing to disclose. His jolly demeanour and clean cut image again made it difficult to imagine him as a convicted murderer, though I didn’t mistake him as being a staff member as there were so few ethnic minorities working in the prison service. Peter used his time constructively spending his days on the education department. I would visit his cell most days. You could always have a good laugh with him and the others who used to congregate in his cell. It was hard to say where Peter would eventually end up but because of his ethnic background it would have most likely have been shaped by his community whether he was able to re-integrate or not.
SIMON – was 11 years into his life sentence. It was so hard to believe he was even in prison – for anything at all. Small in stature and of slim build, with a thick head of curly hair and softly spoken demeanour, he did not fit the mould of what is still perceived by many as ‘a criminal type’. This seemed a common thread with the majority of the lifer community. He came across as a gentle natured person and very well educated. He was studying for a degree through the Open University. He kept himself to himself. He’d had some trouble in the earlier stages of This sentence mainly due to his naiveté as many first time prisoners experience.
DANNY – was another unlike the rest of the lifer community and went against their collective norms and values as model prisoners. He was one of the longest serving lifers; a regular drug user who mingled mainly with fixed termers with the same addictions. His cell was always a busy hive of activity including drug use, and weekend partying. He was quite disruptive but then with just three months remaining of the 17 years he had already served, he absconded. He had been given the privilege of working outside the prison in a local café. The allure of a sexy waitress was too much to resist. They ran away together, eloping somewhere far away. It couldn’t have lasted though.
FRED – was a former gang member of 1960s London; a Kray associate, and the highest profile lifer I became acquainted with. He was famously jailed in 1967 for a crime I have kept anonymous due to the possibility of him being identified. The case was one of the most notorious killings and the first gangland killing of that area Sparking fears amongst the public. During my time in HMP Thorntree, I spoke to Fred many times but he was somewhat aloof from the other lifers. He was even unpopular amongst other lifers who felt he was afforded special privileges. For example, he was the only prisoner with a computer in his cell at a time when computers were still fairly new on the market.
The Lifer Community
One of the main reasons why the lifer community was so tightly knit was because they shared many of the same experiences that set them apart from the rest of the prison population. Those who didn’t conform to the expected norms and values of the lifer subculture were outcast as being liabilities – as in the case of Danny. Lifers who tried to buck the system were not only risking their freedom (McDermott & King, 1988), but were looked down on by their fellow lifers. This was a complete contrast to fixed-termers who revelled in trying to ‘beat the system’. Fred was another who didn’t fit the mould and chose to be aloof. He adopted the attitude of thinking he was above the rest because of his famous gangster status. He was a gentleman gangster and also anti-social – all of which rubbed the others up the wrong way. Ben was particularly vindictive towards him in his own passive way. And with all close knit relationships, familiarity can breed contempt and at times this could reach boiling point between individuals. Ben took delight informing me one day that when Fred left his cell door open while he went for a shower, his computer had been smashed to pieces. This was an act of bitter resentment and envy just because the others felt he was allowed more privileges than the others – such as being allowed a computer in his cell. This wasn’t the norm. Typewriters were permitted but because Fred had claimed he had arthritic fingers he was allowed a touch type computer. The others resented this. They felt it was more to do with who he was. Bad communication skills amongst prisoners were often the root of random violence. One day, Ben was brutally assaulted by his cellmate and friend, Sean, over nothing more than a misunderstood, innocuous remark. As usual – as most offenders do – Sean blamed it on something else other than himself. Quick to back him up, a fellow lifer friend of Sean used the tragic Dunblane massacre which had happened that day as an excuse for his outburst. He claimed that his mind was disturbed by those events being a father himself. This was a poor excuse as there were lots of prisoners with children who had not randomly attacked their cellmates. It was also highly unusual (as mentioned earlier) for a lifer to use such violence given the risk of losing privileges and spending longer behind bars.
Becoming a lifer
Preparing to spend the next 15 or so years in prison is unimaginable for most – as it had once been for the men I was interviewing. All said they dealt with it by taking one day at a time and not looking ahead as this way your release date never arrives. Some were quite meticulous in arranging their personal lives from inside such as preparing themselves psychologically for the expected such as losing their spouses. Some would tell their spouses not to wait for them as they felt this was an unrealistic expectation. They all explained how the early stages of their life sentence involved spending several years in high security prisons such as Wakefield. They reminisced on how those early stages of their sentences were quite volatile. Mike had told of an incident where he accidently knocked a fellow prisoners arm, spilling his tea and how the other inmate reacted aggressively shouting at Mike. Mike explained that in these situations the best way is to not react back. He had apologised in this instance and defused what could have been potentially a violent exchange. And this is typical of prison life. The slightest incident or innocuous remark can erupt into to full scale brawl. When I asked one of them how they managed their time, he said he threw himself into education.
‘Whenever someone got ‘lifed-up’, the education department would come ‘round asking, ‘Do you want to do a Degree’?’ (Field notes, 1997)
The Open University seemed to have helped many lifers deal with their time of incarceration and it was evident that a lot took it on board as it wasn’t unusual for a lifer to have gained one or even two degrees in prison. Simon talked about education a lot and how it helped deal with the emotional difficulty of prison life.
‘I think the more intelligent you are, the harder it is [doing time]…I banged on the ceiling one night because the prisoner above me was playing his music too loud. He came down and punched me. I had a black eye. I couldn’t fight back…’ (Simon)
He explained the devastating consequences for a lifer who gets into any sort of trouble. There was an ongoing tension amongst the men who felt that the system was unfair towards lifers by the way they were so closely scrutinised while in prison to a degree that it was expected they would fail. McDermott and King (1988) express this perfectly in their paper Mind Games:
‘Lifers are continually under review as to how they are coping, their actions and reactions in order to judge their suitability for release. Lifers do not have a set release date because there is always an underlying risk that an incident could cause the Parole Board to reconsider, as there is always the possibility that lifers behaviour while on licence behaviour, could result in a recall to prison. This existence of being in limbo for the life sentence prisoner causes them to be peculiarly dependent upon the staff and on getting good reports. When faced with other inmates goading, the lifer cannot rise to them because he knows that whatever he does will be open to interpretation. If he explodes, his report may say that he cannot cope with frustration and then he may be transferred back from open to closed conditions or from a training to a local prison to cool off before he is ‘tested out’ again. If he does not respond, the reports may say that he is withdrawn and cannot come to terms with his offence. Searching for acceptance brings many lifers subserviently close to staff. Not surprisingly, lifers like to distance themselves from the absurd behaviour by short term prisoners. And not surprisingly, either, staff like having lifers around as a stabilising influence.’ (McDermott & King, 1988:365)
It could happen to anyone
Although all the lifers had been convicted of murder most were first and only time offenders and perpetrators of crime passionnelle. Most had killed their spouses during a brief moment of emotional weakness and it was because of this I was intrigued by their stories. For me as I developed an attachment to the men and began to analyse them more closely, I also began to analyse myself more as if through some kind of ‘looking glass self’ (see Cooley, 1986). It was this particular group of lifers I wanted to focus my attention on because although now convicted killers, it was clear to me that the public’s perception of all those serving life for murder was completely wrong and in fact they were no different to anyone else. It was their ordinariness that became the most intriguing part of my observations. None of the lifers I got to know most intimately were career criminals, persistent offenders or even bad people beneath the surface it seemed. It was this ordinariness that became the most critical part of my observations. Therefore, arguably, anyone could find themselves in their predicament and serving a life sentence. Mike and Les were perfect examples of this. Every lifer’s story could so easily have been mine and every other person who gets into a drunken brawl; domestic argument; or feud. We all take our freedom for granted but in a split second, lives can be lost and those responsible, imprisoned for decades. But it was clear that communication was at the root of many of their violent outbursts. When I asked Les about his offence he was quite emotional about it and angry with other prisoners who use violence to settle arguments.
‘You should never try and solve things with violence!…Sort it out! Shake hands and make up or walk away’ (Les)
Breathing heavier and faster as he became more anxious, he suddenly revealed to me he had killed a man over a spilled beer. It started after another man had accidently knocked his drink out of his hand. An altercation resulted in a punch up where his victim had hit his head on the pavement. I did not press him any further on the subject as I realised he was painfully re-living it and it was necessary to avoid causing him any psychological torment. I did wonder though why he was a lifer and not serving a lesser charge of manslaughter. Another aspect of Les’ story which intrigued me was his ability to maintain his marriage while serving a life sentence. When I pursued this he revealed that he and his wife had made a pact that whatever relationships she developed while he was in prison, there would be no questions asked but instead they would reunite once he was released. This was his way of psychologically managing his long term imprisonment without the added torment of worrying about his wife’s supposed infidelity. It also gave him hope of holding on to his family for when he was released. Ben’s example of not being able to communicate and thus eventually exploding was typical of many prisoners. He admitted that this was why he had killed. He said it was because he was incapable of opening up:
‘I just used to bottle everything up and allow it to fester’ (Ben)
When I asked him how he now dealt with his pent up anger, he said he was able to because he had done an ‘assertiveness’ course in prison. Ben explained he had benefited from interacting with such prison personal development courses. This demonstrated how such courses can benefit some prisoners and the importance of the Probation Services but of course not all prisoners will benefit because every prisoner’s experience is different to that individual. I wondered if this ‘bottling up’ that Ben had described was a common trait amongst violent offenders.
Differentiating from fixed termers and relationships with staff
Lifers tended to challenge probation staff and psychologists who were constantly scrutinising their behaviour but as McDermott and King highlight in their study, their association with prison officers was more personable than the rest of the population (see also Crewe, 2006). It was unusual to hear a prisoner address an officer by his/her first name but common for lifers to have that level of familiarity. One day I queried Mike why he and the officers were on first name terms:
‘We’ve gone through the system together for a long time and from prisonto-prison’ (Mike)
But I noticed they [lifers] didn’t have the same rapport with female officers. This could have been due to the fact that female officers working amongst male prisoners was a new phenomenon. For the most part of the men’s sentences, female officers had not been part of the prison culture the men had come accustomed to. It wasn’t until the early 1990s when the men were in the final stages of their sentences that women became a major part of a mixed prison officer culture. I decided to test if there would be a different response if I used the same familiarity so one day I addressed one of the prison officers – who Mike was on first name terms with – by his first name. The response was a disapproving look from the officer which confirmed to me that there was a unique rapport between staff and lifers. Usually when prisoners adopt that level of familiarity with officers, other prisoners automatically assume they are in cahoots which causes animosity leading to accusations amongst the prison grapevine. Mike seemed unmoved by their accusations as he was clearly distancing himself from the rest of the prison population anyway – except for a few close friends. He was adamant that he did not want to be associated with the rest of the habitual criminals or look like a criminal (meaning thuggish in appearance) and went to a lot of trouble to hone a self-image that reflected that of a law abiding citizen. He would never shave his head or muscle-up in the gym as he felt this gave off that thuggish appearance. Ironic I thought, that a prisoner who was serving life for the ultimate crime, shared the rest of society’s perception that criminals possess a certain image.
Self-identity and image
After years of incarceration, it was important to many of the lifers that their identity be transformed even to the point of being more akin with their jailers than their inmate colleagues. They were psychologically preparing for their release and gradually adopting a new ‘socially acceptable’ image (Giordano, Cernkovich & Rudolph, 2002:999-1002). One of the most basic yet significant attributes of the lifer’s personal appearances was their hair. Those who could, maintained a well groomed head of hair which distinguished them from the rest of the prison population – most of who chose to shave their heads. Such basic rituals were of huge importance to all prisoners. Clothing was also an essential identity statement for prisoners. At Thorntree open prison, prisoners were all allowed to wear their own clothes. Many of the inmates would go to great lengths to wear particular labelled clothing as a way of displaying their individualism and wealth. The whole importance of a wealthy image amongst prisoners was very competitive. By displaying wealth, other prisoners would view them as serious criminals. Mike was certainly no exception either but for him, it wasn’t about impressing other prisoners. He didn’t even want to be viewed as a criminal – let alone a serious one. For him it was about the opposite. Being smartly dressed in his own clothes made him feel less of a prisoner. He and I both knew that there was not really a criminal ‘type’ and that it was the public’s perception that he was pandering to.
Mike had spent many years cultivating a new identity to perfection. He was eager to know why and what it was about him that had made me think he was a member of staff. It was essential to him to nurture this identity and he was clearly very proud that it had worked on a fellow prisoner. His genuine determination to become accepted by others as a respectable family man was reassuring. For him, establishing the right impression was an essential turning point in starting a new life and a major personal transition from his prisoner identity to that of a family man.
This has been well researched by John Laub and Robert Sampson whereby a small number of factors are sturdy correlates of desistance (e.g. good marriages, stable work, transformation of identity, and aging). The processes of desistance from crime and other forms of problem behaviour appear to be similar (Laub & Sampson, 2001). The more relaxed regime of the open prison allows this careful transformation to take place with much more ease than it could for the prisoner who does not go through the resettlement process synonymous with open prisons. As with all lifers inside the open prison, resettlement is vital therefore, each lifer was permitted regular five day home leaves and weekly six hour community visits during which time they were able to be part of the community and of society. Perhaps it is through these continual interactions of ‘normality’ that their new identities begin to emerge. The difficulty on the other hand is holding on to this during the periods they are inside the prison where, while they belligerently hold on to their new personas, they must also be able to fit into the prison culture. While learning of their life stories, it soon occurred to me that one of the main distinguishing features of the men compared to the rest of the prison population was that none of them displayed aggression, machoism, or tested their masculinity compared to many of the fixed termers who continually displayed their masculinity and toughness while trying to gain a respectable position within the prison pecking order. Perhaps the lifers had done so in the past in order to survive the jungle of prison life but as they prepared for release, it became increasingly important to them to develop and nurture an identity that would be accepted by wider society. Their individual identities were not only important to them while in prison but as they neared the end of the prison term, they meticulously worked on developing a persona that distinguished their identities as being non-criminal.
Preparing for release
Lifers do not have a release date. They have an approximate length of time they must serve (tariff) before being considered for parole but nothing is written in stone (see Ministry of Justice, 2011). But as they neared the end of their term in open prisons, they were allowed regular home leaves where they got to spend five days at a time with their family. They were also allowed community visits every week where they were able to spend up to six hours on a Saturday with friends and family outside the prison. Sometimes the worry, strain and feelings of uselessness not being able to deal with family crises as they arose would cause some to abscond. For some lifers, the alternating lifestyle of freedom such as working in the community, spending days and nights with family and friends on home leaves while residing in prison was just too much to deal with. Another reason for absconding from open prisons is that prisoners are struggling to cope with the drugs culture or feeling threatened within open prisons. It has also been reported that too many violent offenders are being sent to open prisons far too early (Hallet & Lowbridge, 2014).
After I was released I felt it was important to stay in contact with some of the men. This was because we had become friends but also I was able to observe them in a different social setting to further my study of them. So for a short period of time I continued to socialise with those lifers who had been released but some of their lives seemed more tragic after release than when they were incarcerated. During this period I would meet up with Ben whenever he was on home leave. Rather than spending time with his estranged family though, he would spend his days living in a hostel. He had become isolated and a mere shadow of his former self. Dave was a regular cannabis user and we’d had many debates over the harm it can cause. His stance was that it could not have any effect whereas I was adamant it could. He claimed I had been socialised in this way of thinking. I felt it was his only way of numbing the pain inside he felt since losing his wife to his so called best friend.
Mike’s predicament was in total contrast to Ben’s however. I met Mike several times in Leeham, sometimes arranged and sometimes just bumping into each other. He always looked happy and was always with his new wife. He had found something to cling on to that would launch him into a new and exciting life. One day we went for lunch at a local pub near Brydon, and Mike picked me up in his new car. He had learned to drive at the age of 45. He had developed a new zest for life which was aided by his new marriage and the support he had around him.
Conclusion
The lifer community consisted of mainly broken men with amputated spirits and Dave’s case was no exception. Most had lost families, wives, children who had either disowned them or died. I felt that none of the lifers would ever see the inside of a prison again unlike the rest of the population. Of all the lifers I studied, none ever showed any signs of aggression towards me or other prisoners. None were what you might expect to be your typically male violent criminal despite having committed the ultimate crime of murder. Instead they were people who had allowed their emotions -albeit usually fuelled with alcohol or drugs – to get the better of them. Once they had crossed this line there was no going back and their lives could never be the same again. Although I remained in contact with some of the men after release the bond was not as strong as what we had in prison which is usually the case once prisoners are released. It is a case of everyone pulling together while living in the same difficult circumstances. Once released everyone went their separate ways. Some had family support such as Mike with his new marriage; Ben continued to stay in probation hostels and some were given independent accommodation through local housing schemes. Apart from Mike each one continued to try and rebuild a new life without support from family and friends. Getting to know the men on suchintimate terms gave me enormous insight – not only into their lives but also my own. Their mistakes, impulsivity and how they had suffered as a result of their actions, forced me to take a long hard look at myself. And when the men saw that I was starting to look within, things took on a complete role reversal and they began to share their own analysis of me. At the dinner table one afternoon, I remember feeling privileged to be sat with five lifers as an accepted member of their group. During our conversation, Mike suddenly said to the others:
‘Look at Davy sat there with a big ‘L’ [learner] plate on his back!’ (Mike)
The others were amused at Mike’s statement and all seemed to agree as if with some kind of insight that I was completely oblivious of. The ‘L’ plate reference is prison slang for someone who is heading for the same fate as lifers. I now knew why the lifers had welcomed me into their fold so easily. It wasn’t just because they had wanted to share their stories with me; it was also because they regarded me as one of them – ‘a lifer’ in the making. This was supported by Ben’s comment to me that I had committed the exact same criminal act as he had – the only difference being – my victim had survived. Just the word ‘victim’ sent a shiver down my spine. My analysis of the lifer community had now turned full circle and revealed what it had observed in me. Their observations made me think very deeply about where my life could be heading and that there was an urgent need to make a huge transition. I embraced it. Through analysing lifers, I had been given a unique ‘looking glass’ view of my future, but unfortunately for the lifers they would never have this privilege.
References
Aresti, A., Earle, R. and Darke, S. (2012) British Convict Criminology: Developing critical insider perspectives on prison, Inside Time, [online] http://www.insidetime.org/articleview.asp?a=1273&c=british_convict_criminologydeveloping_critical_insider_perspectives_on_prison (Accessed 30/10/2014).
Bilby, C. et al. (2013) Re-imagining futures: Exploring arts interventions and the process of desistance. Arts Alliance. http://www.artsalliance.org.uk/re-imagining-futures-exploring-arts-interventions-and-process-desistance.
Cooley, C. H. (1998) On Self and Social Organisation. University Of Chicago Press.
Crewe, B. (2006) Male prisoners’ orientations towards female officers in an English Prison, Punishment & Society, 8: 395-421.
Crewe, B. and Bennett, J. (Eds.) (2012) The Prisoner. London: Routledge.
Earle, R. (2011) Prison and University: A Tale of Two Institutions? Education, Change, and Transformation: The Prison Experience. Papers from the British Criminology Conference, Panel Paper 11: 20-37.
Giordano, P. C., Cernkovich, S. A., and Rudolph, J. L. (2002) Gender, Crime, and Desistance: Toward a Theory of Cognitive Transformation, American Journal of Sociology, 107(4): 990-1064.
Hallett, E. and Lowbridge, C. (2014) Why Do Prisoners Take the Risk? BBC News, [online] http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-27292555 (Accessed 03/07/2014)
Honeywell, D. (2012) Never Ending Circles: The autobiography of a former criminal turned writer and criminologist. North Yorkshire: Nocton Publishing.
Honeywell, D. (2015) ‘Doing Hard Time in the United Kingdom’ in S. Richards (Ed.) The Marion Experiment: Long-Term Solitary Confinement and the Supermax Movement. 1st Edition. Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press.
Irwin, J. (2009) Lifers seeking redemption in prison. (Criminology and Justice Studies). New York. Routledge.
Laub, J. and Sampson, R. (2001) Understanding desistance from crime, Crime and Justice 28: 1-69.
McDermott, K. and King, R. D. (1988) Mind Games: Where the action is in prisons, British Journal of Criminology, 28(3).
Meek, R., Champion, N. and Klier, S. (2012) Fit for Release. London: Prisoners Education Trust. http://www.prisonerseducation.
Ministry of Justice (2011) Ensuring Equality. National Offender Management Service [online] https://www.justice.gov.uk (Accessed 08/07/14).
Newbold et al. (2014) Prison Research from the Inside: The Role of Convict Autoethnography, Qualitative Inquiry, 2014, 20: 439.
Pike, A. (2013) Prison-based higher level distance learning and its role in life after prison (unpublished doctoral thesis). Open University.
Richards, S. C. and Ross, J. I. (2003) Ex-convict Professors Doing Prison Research, in The State of Corrections: 2002 Proceedings ACA Annual Conferences, Lanham (MD): American Correctional Association: 163-168.
Still Working with ‘Involuntary Clients’ in Youth Justice
Articles
Nathan Monk
Published | 15/03/2015 |
Type | Article |
Author(s) | Sean Creaney |
Corresponding Authors | Sean Creaney, Senior Lecturer, School of Applied Social Science, University Centre, Stockport College |
DOA | |
DOI |
A lack of active participation from children and young people in the design and delivery of youth justice services has culminated in the effectiveness of the Youth Justice System being reduced. There has been little independent scrutiny and to add to that strategic direction on how children’s voices are or should be accessed in practice. In the light of this, the paper explores the various challenges associated with promoting the active participation of young people who have offended. More specifically, the paper explores the difficulties engaging those who are disengaged as such individuals may perceive the support on offer as unnecessary and intrusive. The paper argues that in order to reconcile a lack of engagement and feelings of disempowerment the priority should be throughout the Youth Justice System to involve young people in decision-making processes. Ideas will be put forward with regard to how youth justice practice could become more participatory and engaging particularly with regard to those who are ‘involuntary clients’ or in other words difficult to engage. There is a dearth of ‘hard’ empirical evidence on the effectiveness of participatory approaches in youth justice. However if work with young people who offend is innovative and bespoke to allow for young people’s voices to be heard practice could become more effective. But there needs to be the recognition that the ideas put forward in this paper are not ‘magic bullets’.
Introduction
Young people are not often provided with opportunities to actively participate, engage and influence service design and delivery in youth justice (Haines and Case, in press; Hart & Thompson, 2009). This could be due to the idea of participation being inconsistent with an emphasis on punishment (Beyond Youth Custody, 2014). Indeed participatory principles conflict somewhat with the whole premise of youth justice intervention and in particular the notion of just deserts (Beyond Youth Custody, 2014). Moreover, young people who have offended have not only committed a crime but contravened normative social expectations regarding how one is expected to behave and in turn forfeited the right to have a say (Hart & Thompson, 2009). However, in accordance with international standards, treaties, and conventions – most notably the United Nations Convention on the Right of the Child – the participatory rights of children in conflict with the law should be promoted. That said rather than being human rights based, practice is very much focused on compliance, compulsion and coercion (Haines & Case, in press).
This paper explores the various challenges associated with promoting the active participation of young people who have offended. Particularly the paper explores the difficulties engaging those who are disengaged, as such individuals may perceive the support on offer as unnecessary and intrusive. The article argues that the topic of participation is in urgent need of development and thus requires fresh political, academic and practice attention. It also argues that in order to reconcile this lack of user-led engagement and experiences of disempowerment the priority should be throughout the Youth Justice System to involve young people in decision-making processes.
A lack of active participation from children and young people in the design and delivery of youth justice services has culminated in the effectiveness of the Youth Justice System being reduced (Haines & Case, in press). There has been little independent scrutiny and to add to that strategic direction on how children’s voices are or should be accessed in practice (Hart & Thompson, 2009). Ideas will be put forward with regard to how youth justice practice could become more participatory and engaging, particularly with those who are “involuntary clients” or in other words difficult to engage.
Participation in youth justice
To participate is to be involved and have some say over the process. With regard to the use of participatory approaches across the tariff of youth justice interventions and providers of services, ‘the involvement of young people in their own assessment is underdeveloped and, even where they provide useful information; this may not be used to inform the plans that are made…’ (Hart & Thompson, 2009:4). Indeed rather than promoting their active participation and starting from the child’s wants and needs – and embedding such practice throughout assessment, planning, intervention and supervision – practice is very much adult-led and disempowering for the child (Case & Haines, 2009; Haines & Case, in press). It must be acknowledged, though, that the Youth Justice Board recognise the importance of service user involvement in assessment and is in the process of implementing (2014/2015) a new and improved assessment framework that claims to give much greater emphasis to young people’s wishes and feelings (Creaney & Smith, 2014; Haines & Case, in press). This tool may allow practitioners to devise broader, more proactive solutions to tackle identifiable issues as the assessment framework intends to be more holistic and sensitive to children’s needs and wishes. In so doing, it is future orientated, concerned with strengths and aspirations rather than risky behaviours (Haines & Case, in press).
That said work with young people who offend tends to be conducted ‘on’ rather than ‘with’ children – perhaps understandable in a context of enforcement. Practice has tended to adopt more controlling and repressive mechanisms that are coercive, often non-negotiable in nature and disengaging (Haines & Case, in press). Practitioners rarely provide opportunities to children to actively participative in their care (Beyond Youth Custody, 2014). This could be for a number of reasons not least that practitioners are constrained by the court ordered nature of the work and more specifically the rigid conditions that must be imposed. However, the Referral Order is perhaps one example of where the Youth Justice System has tried to involve young people in the decision-making process.
Referral Orders are community sentences given to children between the ages of 10 to 17 appearing in a youth or magistrates court for the first time. As part of the court order the child attends a panel meeting, where, the space is provided for young people to actively participate in the process. Indeed, as part of the Referral Order the aim is for perpetrators and victims to ‘actively participate’ in the process – rather than be passive spectators – in order to resolve the conflict. The idea is that power and control can be equally shared between the two parties. Not only can the victim and the offender have a say and be heard, the perpetrator can be provided with opportunities to repair the harm caused by engaging in positive, constructive activities. However, such restorative principles are built into a system that is punitive and deficit-led where young people are considered wholly responsible for their actions. Indeed, the emphasis is on blaming tendencies rather than understanding the context or wider socio-structural issues such children experience that can have adverse effects on attitudes, behaviour and development. Referral Order panels provide a platform for young people to share their viewpoints on how the harm caused can be repaired. However, it appears young people involved in such panels merely participate rather than actively engage in the process (Newburn, et al., 2002). On the other hand, as part of the children’s hearing system in Scotland young people are not only listened to but what they say is acted upon as they are deemed to be key decision makers in the process (McAra & Young, 1997).
Young people in England and Wales involved in crime and subject to court orders, generally, are often unsure of the process in terms of what is involved on their part: children often do not feel in control, they feel powerless (Hazel, 2002 in Robinson, 2014). What happens in practice is children co-operate and comply with the conditions of the order in order to simply ‘get through their sentences’ (Hazel, 2002 in Robinson, 2014:47). Interestingly, in a study seeking young people’s views and opinions on practice supervision Hazel et al., (2002:14) noted that
‘while they started out feeling in control of their actions, accounts of young offenders became striking in their lack of “agency”. Giving in, submitting, becoming marginalised and losing power were central themes, quite contrary to the assumption of engagement and responsibility that the system hopes to achieve.’
Arguably then, adults need to promote the human rights of children in conflict with the law and inform them of their entitlements in an empowering way. In so doing, practitioners need to commit to eradicating barriers to engagement by ensuring that the starting point of any intervention is the wishes, aspirations and goals of the child not the organisations or professionals priorities (National Youth Agency, 2011; Smith, 2008). Professionals should also aspire to allowing service users the opportunity to take more of an active lead in the design and delivery of services (Creaney, 2014a).
Although the existence of a positive relationship is not the only factor that must be considered when working with children, it can help to facilitate and achieve change. It can result in the service user having confidence in the process and wanting to engage and participate in the design of services/interventions. However, contemporary youth justice practice has been described as disengaging (Haines & Case, in press). Not only are children disengaged but so too are staff as practice has become prescriptive (Haines & Case, in press). Some would argue that practitioners have become deprofessionalised (Pitts, 2001) compelled to adopt in-flexible What Works principles, resulting in staff, and the organisation as a whole losing sight of offenders as children (Barry, 2013). The focus on technical aspects of practice has marginalised the importance of practitioner-young person relationships. This is disconcerting, especially when we consider that what young people most value from a supervising officer ‘is not so much programmes and content but a good supportive relationship with an adult who is not judgemental and is able to offer guidance and advocacy when needed’ (France & Homel, 2006:305-306). Furthermore Robinson (2014:263) points out that ‘the relationship between the young person and the…case manager…developed in supervision is often crucial in motivating and supporting a young person to comply with and complete other requirements.’
Children do value a good relationship with their supervising officer who listens to them and is trusting and respectful. Indeed, there is an increased likelihood that children will actively engage rather than merely participate if such a positive relationship has been formed (Creaney, 2014b). However even if a positive working relationship between the child and practitioner exists, children may see their level of involvement as ‘passive … – something that happens to them or is done to them rather than something they can actively engage with and help shape and design’ (Hart & Thompson, 2009:24).
The practitioner/young person relationship
Practitioners working with young people who offend cannot refer to an established literature regarding what works in creating and sustaining positive working relationships (Burnett, 2004; Mason & Prior, 2008). Furthermore, it appears to be the case that there is rather a limited evidence base on the ‘effectiveness’ of such interpersonal practice (Mason & Prior, 2008:24) in youth justice. Perhaps this is due to ‘the relationship between worker and offender [being] seen latterly as less instrumental in promoting change and the emphasis [shifting]…towards technical skill and management of people through a process’ (Burnett & Roberts, 2004 in Farrow et al., 2007:13). Arguably then, the position of relationship-based practice in youth justice needs ‘fresh attention’ (Farrow et al., 2007; Trotter, 2006). After all, it is unlikely that a child or young person will comply with the requirements of an order, engage in the intervention programme and stop offending without receiving ‘one-to-one supervision’ (Farrall, 2002): ‘practice skills in general and relationship skills in particular are at least as critical in reducing reoffending as programme content’ (McNeill et al., 2004:6).
The development of a positive relationship, built on empathy and genuineness for example, is a very important aspect of work with children (Brandon et al., 1998:71). Furthermore Trevithick (2005) notes that rapport has to be built into the process in order for the child to engage in the intervention or programme on offer:
‘…[rapport] creates the favourable conditions necessary for people to be able to discuss and reveal problems or difficulties, successes or failures, and strengths or weaknesses in ways that aid understanding and allow for a realistic plan of action to be created’ (Trevithick, 2005:148, cited in Mason & Prior, 2008:25-26).
However it can be difficult to develop rapport as children may not want to become involved or may feel that they are being coerced into engaging in the programme. Arguably, a certain amount of persuasion may be important here alongside being directive (Mason & Prior, 2008).
What can make practice difficult for criminal justice professionals is that they take on a dual role. Professionals practice in a context of ambivalence whereby they may, at times, experience difficulties with caring (welfare) and controlling (justice) aspects of their work. There is the criticism that welfarism abandons legal safeguards and violates due process by ‘leaving children to the discretionary, permissive powers of professionals while subjecting them to indeterminate measures without recourse to review or accountability’ (Scraton & Haydon, 2002:311). On the other hand, although justice-based approaches are apparently fair and transparent, in practice what may result is vulnerable children being adulterised and responsibilised where the aetiological complexity of the crime is overlooked in favour of the swift administration of justice (Goldson, 2002:12). Trotter (2006:4) sheds some light on how difficult reconciling the ‘legalistic’ (or enforcement) and ‘helping’ roles can be:
‘It is difficult for a worker to fulfil a helping role with a probationer when they are also taking action to have a probation order cancelled. Similarly, it can be difficult to fulfil the legal role where a close helping relationship has developed between the worker and client…coming to terms with this dual role is one of the greatest challenges in work with involuntary clients.’
To prevent confusion with regard to which approach is best, although this dilemma can be difficult to reconcile, one way to potentially overcome such issues is to clarify roles and responsibilities in practice:
‘This involves ongoing discussions about issues such as authority and how it might be used, the dual role of the worker as helper and social controller, the aims and purpose of the intervention from both client and worker perspectives, as well as issues relating to confidentiality.’ (Trotter, 1999:18, emphasis added)
There is an increased likelihood that positive outcomes will result when roles (and so too the aims and purpose of the intervention) are clarified, particularly in a collaborative way. Individuals will then be more likely to engage in the programmes of support on offer having had an opportunity to put forward their perspective. Arguably, though, role clarification should not be static, it should be dynamic and ongoing to ensure an appropriate healthy balance – between care and control – is sustained. Interestingly, ground rules can be helpful here for both the client and professional as matters that are negotiable and those that are non-negotiable can be discussed by both parties and an agreement can be reached. It can also be discussed here what behaviour will not be tolerated but, perhaps more importantly, explained how this will be challenged in a respectful way where the child will be valued – at all times – in an inclusive manner where the behaviour or the act will be separated from the person (Trotter, 2006).
Trevithick (2012) refers to the importance of practitioners using language that is understandable and not reliant on jargon. Throughout the stages of assessment, planning and intervention in youth justice, professionals do not consistently use clear and accessible language (Robinson, 2014). This is disconcerting, especially when we consider that at the onset of a court order children often feel uncertain about the process (Robinson 2014). Using language that is unclear may compound rather than help to tackle the issues children are experiencing. Rather, practitioners should explain what is expected of the child in a clear way, in accordance with understanding such factors as age and maturity.
Rather than focussing on individual deficits, strengths-based models should be promoted. Practice should be: empowering and consultative (not prescriptive), child-centred (not adult centric) and capable of providing children with a platform to share an insight into their lived experiences (Haines & Case, in press). There should be a commitment to practice being holistic whereby meaningful help and support is available for young people based on what they need regardless of whether or not it is related to the child’s offending. Such needs may revolve around ‘recreational, educational and employment opportunities’ (Rogowski, 2013:12). The above recommendations, though, may be difficult to implement and it may be more challenging to instil a culture of ‘active participation’, due to the risk-averse context of the work. More specifically, the professional is perhaps working with ‘involuntary clients’ (those not so receptive) who are involved in statutory procedures. Notwithstanding these challenges, Chapman and Hough (1998:26) outline some key principals, values and ethical standards that should inform work with young people who offend:
‘an inclusive approach which respects difference, avoids labels, encourages the active participation of the individual in all processes…based upon the belief in the capacity of the individual to make changes in behaviour and offers equal and appropriate access to services and programmes.’
Work with young offenders, then, should principally involve seeking to gather the viewpoints of children on their own lives. In so doing practitioners view children as human beings not human becomings where the responsibility is with the practitioner to make sense of such lived experiences (Farrow, et al., 2007:87) choices and relationships. These points are important as practitioners, at times, will be tasked with empowering the disempowered and/or those who experience learning and developmental difficulties who may struggle when expressing opinions. There exist strengths based models that draw on such ideas and that have been prominent in work with adult offenders – most notably the Good Lives Model (GLM). This model is considered to be an ‘effective’ way of securing the engagement of the individual, as it is provides a positive framework, balancing risks with the promotion of securing personal goods (i.e. friendship and happiness) and the accomplishment of goals (McNeill, 2006:85). The GLM differs somewhat to practice models that emphasise the risk management of offenders, as it is draws on problem/solution solving techniques, offence resolution and empowering the individual to actively participate in the process (Scraton & Haydon, 2002).
Working towards desistance: looking at routes out of crime
Desistance researchers aim to understand why and how people stop offending. They are concerned with the process of ceasing from offending and in particular the need to support such individuals through that process. Here, desistance researchers note that approaches in the youth/criminal justice arena should not be informed by a ‘one-size fits all’ mentality but tailored to the identified needs of the person who has offended (Weaver & McNeill, 2010), in particular making note of their emotional and developmental needs. Alongside this, the approach should be informed by a relationship that is based on honesty and openness (Farrall, 2002). The points raised here are very relevant in relation to the treatment of children who offend as there has been less focus, in recent times, on the social and personal aspects of their lives: these factors are crucial in the desistance process and for this reason require ‘greater attention’ (Farrall, 2002).
Desistance from offending may occur as a result of the existence of ‘turning points’ in the life of a child or young person (Sampson & Laub, 1993). However, in relation to children who are engaging in crime and embroiled in the youth justice system ‘turning points’ may be few and far between (Barry, 2013). Children subjected to youth justice processes – who are often in a state of transition – are often provided with limited opportunities to adopt a non-criminal identity and live a law-abiding lifestyle. Indeed for individual children there are ‘few opportunities to take on responsibilities and few means of gaining revised personal values based on the recognition of others’ (Barry, 2013:358).
Furthermore, there are limited constructive opportunities available (including leisure activities, education and employment opportunities) – where personal, social and emotional development can potentially be enhanced- to help young people desist from crime successfully. This is perhaps most disconcerting as children who engage in crime and are subject to youth justice processes often reside in unloved areas and in turn experience a wealth of social inequalities (Yates, 2010). Although there is a danger that professionals may get too close (Smith, 2008) within the desistance literature, it is argued that a passionate, caring and helpful practitioner who engages ‘effectively’ with the child can increase the likelihood of positive outcomes occurring. Furthermore as opposed to responsibilisation, a practitioner who offers encouragement and is supportive throughout the process is deemed ‘crucial’ in the desistance process.
The instilling of hope and self-confidence is prioritised in the desistance process. The level of support offered should not be determined solely by the criminogenic needs of the young person who has offended. Intervention should be driven by the need to promote positive aspects of a child’s life, drawing on strengths based approaches and informed by the literature on resilience. Most importantly, it involves ‘fostering a sense that the young person can change, and reinforcing an awareness of what he or she has to offer’ (Nacro, 2007:5). Desistance literature and research provide a ‘welcome bulwark against the ‘risk’ and ‘What Works’ agenda’ (Nugent & Barnes, 2013:21) by shifting the focus away from the child’s deficits and onto their strengths – promoting active participation. Such ideas contrast somewhat with the emphasis on compliance, compulsion and coercion (Haines and Case, in press). Strengths-based participatory practice is somewhat inconsistent with an emphasis on punishment (Beyond Youth Custody, 2014). Indeed participatory principles conflict somewhat with the whole premise of youth justice intervention and in particular the notion of just deserts. Moreover, young people who have offended have not only committed a crime but contravened normative social expectations regarding how one is expected to behave and in turn forfeited the right to have a say (Beyond Youth Custody, 2014). However, in accordance with international standards, treaties, and conventions – most notably the United Nations Convention on the Right of the Child – the participatory rights of children in conflict with the law should be promoted.
Conclusion
One could question why children who offend are helped when non-offenders, who may well be experiencing similar problems, may not be entitled to such support. Furthermore, it could be questioned whether such individuals are entitled to ‘have their say’ given their offender status (Creaney, 2014a; 2014b). On the other hand, regardless of their status as offenders, as a society, we have an obligation to help a child who is in conflict with the law, provide support and steer them away from a life of crime (Robinson & Crow, 2009). Notwithstanding these philosophical debates, practice with young people who have offended should be client-driven and voluntary, rather than, as is so often the case, adult-led (Haines & Case in press). The focus should not be on delivering an intervention with the intention of returning the offender ‘to some predestined pattern of thought and behaviour’ (Robinson & Crow, 2009:12) – where conformity is deemed to be crucial and any work proposed is set to be imposed on young people. Rather, informed consent and willing participation should be promoted throughout the youth justice system. Being ‘actively’ involved in youth justice processes can improve outcomes for young people. However further opportunities need to be created for young people to become involved and engaged and influence decision making (Creaney & Smith, 2014). This could be through establishing steering groups or advisory boards and/or allowing young people the opportunity to advise other settings on ways of improving service delivery (Beyond Youth Custody, 2014). There are a number of challenges to overcome though, if such initiatives are to be developed not least the fact that the criminal justice system in England and Wales is overwhelmingly concerned with punishment and retribution: notions of participation and engagement appear partial and peripheral. Systematic efforts should be made to increase knowledge on the child’s right to have a say on matters that affect them.
Notwithstanding the challenges mentioned above, practice intervention needs to be timely, appropriate and realistic ‘capturing and giving expression to the young person’s feelings and priorities’ (Robinson, 2014:268). With regard to involuntary clients or those difficult to engage such individuals may be unwilling to take part and they may deem the support on offer as intrusive and unnecessary (Trotter, 1999). However, as I have argued within the paper, in order to help overcome such difficulties it is important to ensure that the goals set out in the intervention plan are realistic and achievable and decided ‘with’ rather than ‘for’ clients (Haines & Case, in press). What should exist is an understanding that ‘the worker will…[never] know more about people and their problems than they [i.e. children] do themselves’ (Smale & Tuson, 1993:16). Although services will have their own agendas with regard to outcomes, this should not be ‘at the expense of young people’s own goals and aspirations which may have little to do with these’ (Smith, 2008:189).
Acknowledgements
The author would like to thank Dr Stephen Case, Associate Professor of Criminal Justice and Criminology at Swansea University, for his very useful feedback on earlier drafts. The author would also like to thank his PhD Director of Studies Dr Joe Yates and supervisors Dr Janet Jamieson and Dr Laura Kelly at the School of Humanities and Social Science, Liverpool John Moores University for their constructive comments.
References
Barry, M. (2013) Rational choice and responsibilisation in youth justice in Scotland: whose evidence matters in evidence-based policy? Howard Journal of Criminal Justice, 52 (4): 347-364.
Beyond Youth Custody (2014) Young people and resettlement: Participatory approaches a practitioner’s guide, available at: http://www.beyondyouthcustody.net/wp-content/uploads/Participatory-approaches-for-young-people-in-resettlement-a-practitioner%E2%80%99s-guide.pdf (Accessed 16/05/2014).
Brandon, M., Schofield, G. and Trinder, L. (1998) Social Work with Children. Basingstoke: Palgrave.
Burnett, R. (2004) ‘One-to-one ways of promoting desistance: in search of an evidence base’, in R. Burnett and C. Roberts (Eds.) What Works in Probation and Youth Justice: Developing Evidence-based Practice. Cullompton: Willan Publishing.
Case, S. P. and Haines, K. R. (2009) Understanding Youth Offending: Risk Factor Research, Policy and Practice. Cullompton: Willan Publishing.
Chapman, T. and Hough, M. (1998) Evidence based Practice – A Guide to Effective Practice London: Home Office.
Creaney, S. (2014a) The position of relationship based practice in youth justice, Safer Communities, 13(3): 120-125.
Creaney, S. (2014b) The benefits of participation for young offenders, Safer Communities, 13(3): 126-132.
Creaney, S. and Smith, R. (2014) Youth justice back at the crossroads, Safer Communities, 13(2): 83-87.
Farrall, S. (2002) Rethinking what works with offenders. Cullompton: Willan Publishing.
Farrow, K., Kelly, G. and Wilkinson, B. (2007) Offenders in Focus. Bristol: Policy Press.
France, A. and Homel, R. (2006) Societal access routes and developmental pathways: Putting social structure and young people’s voice into the analysis pathways into and out of crime, Australian and New Zealand Journal of Criminology, 39(3): 287–94.
Goldson, B. (2002) New Labour, Social Justice and Children: Political Calculation and the Deserving-Undeserving Schism, British Journal of Social Work, 32: 683–95.
Haines, K. R. and Case, S. P. (in press) Positive youth justice: Children first, offenders second. Bristol: Policy Press.
Hart, D. and Thompson, C. (2009) Young people’s participation in the youth justice system. London: National Children’s Bureau.
Hazel, N., Hagell, A. and Brazier, L. (2002) Young people’s perceptions of their experiences of the criminal justice system. End of award report to the ESRC.
Mason, P. and Prior, D. (2008) Engaging Young People who Offend (Source Document). London: Youth Justice Board.
McAra, L. and Young, P. (1997) Juvenile Justice in Scotland, Criminal Justice, 15(3).
McNeill, F. (2006) Community supervision: Context and relationships matter, in B. Goldson and J. Muncie (Eds.) Youth Crime and Justice. London: Sage.
McNeill, F., Batchelor, S., Burnett, R. and Knox, J. (2004) 21st Century Social Work. Reducing Re-offending: Key Practice Skills. Edinburgh: The Scottish Executive.
Nacro (2007) Youth crime briefing: effective practice with children and young people who offend – part 2. London: Nacro.
National Youth Agency (2011) Participation in Youth Justice: Measuring Impact and Effectiveness. Leicester: National Youth Agency.
Newburn, T., Crawford, A., Earle, R., Goldie, S., Hale, C., Hallam, A., Masters, G., Netten, A., Saunders, R., Sharpe, K., and Uglow, S. (2002) The introduction of Referral Orders into the youth justice system: Final report, Home Office Research Study, 242. London, Home Office.
Nugent, B. and Barnes, P. (2013) Desistance and young people. Scottish Justice Matters [online] available at: http://scottishjusticematters.com/wp-content/uploads/SJM_1-2_December2013_DesistanceAndYoungPeopleLo-Res.pdf (Accessed: 01/04/2014).
Pitts, J. (2001) Korrectional karaoke: New Labour and the zombification of youth justice, Youth Justice, 1(2): 3-16.
Rogowski, S. (2013) Journal of social work practice: Radical/critical social work with young offenders: challenges and possibilities, journal of social work practice: psychotherapeutic approaches in health, welfare and the community.
Robinson, G. and Crow, I. (2009) Offender Rehabilitation: Theory, Research and Practice. London: Sage.
Robinson, A. (2014) Foundations for youth justice: positive approaches to practice. Routledge: Abingdon.
Sampson, R., and Laub, J. (1993) Crime in the making: Pathways and turning points through life. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Scraton, P. and Haydon, D. (2002) ‘Challenging the criminalization of children and young people: securing a rights-based agenda’, in J. Muncie, G. Hughes and E. McLaughlin (Eds.) Youth Justice: Critical Readings. London: Sage/The Open University: 311–328.
Smale, G. and Tuson, G., with Brehal, N. and Marsh, P. (1993) Empowerment Assessment, Care Management and the Skilled Worker. London: National Institute of Social Work.
Smith, R. (2008) Social work with young people. Cambridge, Polity Press.
Trevithick, P. (2005) Social Work Skills: A Practice Handbook. 2nd edition. Maidenhead: Open University Press.
Trevithick, P. (2012) Social Work Skills and Knowledge: A Practice Handbook. 3rd edition. Open University Press.
Trotter, C. (1999) Working with involuntary clients: a guide to practice. London: Sage.
Trotter, C. (2006) Working with involuntary clients: a guide to practice. Sydney: Allen & Unwin.
Weaver, B. and McNeill, F. (2010) ‘Travelling hopefully: Desistance research and probation practice’, in J. Brayford, F. Cowe and J. Deering (Eds.) What else works? Creative work with offenders. Cullompton: Willan Publishing.
Yates, J. (2010) ‘Structural disadvantage: Youth, class, crime and social harm’, in W. Taylor, R. Earl and R. Hester (Eds.) Youth Justice Handbook: theory, policy and practice. Cullompton: Willan Publishing.
Further reading
Baker, K., Kelly, G. and Wilkinson, B. (2011) Assessment in Youth Justice. Bristol: The Policy Press.
Carlile Lord (2014) Independent Parliamentarians’ Inquiry into the Operation and Effectiveness of the Youth Court. London: National Children’s Bureau. Available at: http://www.ncb.org.uk/media/1148432/independent_parliamentarians_inquiry_into_the_operation_and_effectiveness_of_the_youth_court.pdf (Accessed 20 August 2014).
Creaney, S. (2013) Beyond pre-emptive criminalisation: towards a child-friendly youth justice, Safer Communities, 12(3): 101-10.
Dominey, J. (2013) Still working with involuntary clients, British Journal of Community Justice, 11(2/3).
Editorial: The Ideals of Community Justice
Articles
Nathan Monk
Published | 15/03/2015 |
Type | Editorial Comment |
Author(s) | Jean Hine |
Corresponding Authors | Jean Hine, De Montfort University |
DOA | |
DOI |
Several of the papers in this issue got me to thinking about the key concept for this journal – community justice. As Brian Williams said in our very first editorial, we aim “to encourage debate about the contested meanings of the concept of community justice, with a view to clarifying the issues” (Williams, 2002:1). For many people community justice is essentially about community sentences – those non-custodial sentences of the court which require some supervision in the community. For others it is about the actions of all criminal justice agencies which take place in the community, particularly the police and probation, and for yet others the remit is much broader and is about involving the community more directly in all aspects of criminal justice. This journal inclines to the latter position, and, as can be seen from the wide ranging papers which have been published over the years, explores aspects of criminal justice broadly within a remit of social justice.
Perhaps the most comprehensive statement about what community justice is and should be is the work of Karp and Clear (2000). In this piece they describe community justice as “a vision of justice practices with particular concern for the way crime and justice affect community life” (p.324) and talk about a partnership between the formal criminal justice system and the community. The term community is itself widely debated as to its meaning though all at their root have the notion of people coming together in some way. In relation to community justice this is often about place and issues of localism, and frequently about neighbourhoods. Karp and Clear explicitly state that for them it is about local geography and the work of ‘police, courts and corrections’ in those places, what they call ‘blocks of space’. A key element of this process is that the neighbourhood or community should be identified by the people living there, not determined by administrative boundaries which frequently do not match people’s lived experiences (Camina, 2004). This is not just about criminal justice agencies however, as they argue that other agencies, such as local authorities, have a responsibility to reduce local ‘criminogenic conditions’, some of which (e.g. housing) will be outside the remit of criminal justice agencies. In this vision the community builds the capacity to exercise informal social control and thus reduce crime. What Karp and Clear (2000) present is an ideal type model. They acknowledge that this will be difficult to achieve, but offer seven principles which can act as ‘guideposts’ for taking small steps towards this end: norm affirmation, restoration, public safety, equality, inclusion, mutuality, and stewardship – themes which are present in the papers in this issue.
A fundamental requirement of the Karp and Clear (2000) model is that “criminal justice agencies must make themselves accessible to the community, and the community must take an active role in the justice process” (p.352), both of which they acknowledge are difficult to achieve in practice. Very little research has been undertaken into community perspectives on criminal and community justice, especially in those areas most affected by crime. Tony Bottoms addressed this issue in his McWilliams lecture in 2007 (Bottoms, 2008), reflecting on a study of public opinion and crime which he and a colleague had recently undertaken in two similarly high crime areas (Bottoms & Wilson, 2004). They found a generally high commitment to the ‘redeemability’ of offenders in both areas, but a significant difference between them in terms of their ‘punitiveness’. Public space was posited as the underlying reason for these differences, where “disturbances in public space… [lead] to feelings of risk and insecurity” (Bottoms, 2008:150) which in turn feed punitive attitudes. He goes on to discuss the potential for unpaid work and probation supervision to engage with communities and better understand and address the real concerns of the people who live there and the way in which “different crimes and disorders might have differential effect” (Bottoms & Wilson, 2004:386). They argue that if community residents have a sense of social control and safety in their area they will be less anxious and thus less punitive (ibid:391). Rob Canton’s work on the emotions of punishment (Canton, 2015) identifies a distinction between retributive and restorative responses to wrongdoing. These generally occur together but with a different balance depending on context. Maybe it is this sense of safety and ontological security (Giddens, 1984) which influences the balance of these moral emotions.
As you read this the results of the 2015 general election will be known, but as I write the build up to the election is at full pitch with the various political parties trying to outdo themselves with promises for a brighter future on the one hand and blamings for the sombre current picture on the other. Crime and justice is not making the headlines as it has in previous elections, though it is in the manifestos where much of the talk is about police numbers and concern for victims1* but nothing as radical as the suggestions from the authors in this issue. Ontological security is addressed by notions of neighbourhood policing but otherwise there is scant recognition of the ideals of community justice, which is “localized and flexible rather than centralized and standardized” (Clear & Karp, 2000:21), and “changes the focus of justice from what is to be done about people (offenders) to what is to be done about the places in which people live and work” (ibid: 22). Moving towards community justice is not just about criminal justice agencies working in and with local neighbourhoods, it’s about all aspects of social policy, and particularly about encouraging the genuine participation of ‘communities’. Fitzgibbon and Lea (2010) highlight how there has been a “rapid decline in the number of ‘blue lamp’ police stations, which like GP surgeries and post offices provide some point of contact between poor communities and State and local services” (p.223), a trend which has only exacerbated with the retrenchment of public services since the financial crisis of 2008. It is hard to engage with communities where there is little or no physical presence. Criminal justice agencies not only need to communicate with individuals, and importantly with communities, to facilitate the desistance of offenders, but to involve them as co-producers of criminal justice services (Weaver, 2009; 2011). Thus community justice is about effective criminal justice as well as the moral good. The papers in this issue offer thoughts on the steps which can be taken to achieve this.
The first article in this issue is second of Roger Hopkins Burke’s papers about radical communitarianism. Communitarianism is about the balancing of individual rights with social responsibilities and obligations. In his first paper (Hopkins Burke,2014) it was argued that in the neo-liberal model of communitarianism the balance had swung too far to a focus on the responsibilities of the individual to ‘community’ with too little attention to human rights and equal opportunities, which could be seen as the responsibilities of the community to the individual. That paper set the scene for the need for a different approach, which is described in this second paper. Following a brief history of the development individualism and its different European roots he draws on the ideas of Emile Durkheim that the free play of individual interests would lead to instability rather than harmony creating the potential for anomie. Hopkins Burke draws on Durkheim’s vision to argue for a political approach “which actively promotes both the rights and responsibilities of individuals and communities in the context of an appreciably more equal division of labour”: radical moral communitarianism. He goes on to identify the policy implications of this consensual interdependency and its ideals, though how to achieve them is less clear. In one way or another the identified topics are key themes in the current debates between political parties, but perhaps not so clearly informed by the moral foundation that Hopkins Burke might hope. Whether you agree with the arguments or not, these two papers provide much food for thought.
In Hopkins Burke’s model the community would take some responsibility for the integration of offenders, a theme which is taken up in the paper by Almond et al. about Circles of Support. The paper gives a brief history of the development of circles of support, whereby a group of volunteers support sex offenders in their resettlement following release from custody. Their aim is to work with the offender (core member as s/he is called) in a participatory relationship of trust to achieve constructive reintegration into the community. This paper is based on a small study exploring why volunteers choose to be involved in this challenging work, where they are involved in a double edged-relationship balancing the tension between supporting the core member and holding them to account for their actions. Volunteers describe a mix of motives, both personal and social, in some small way displaying key characteristics of communitarianism.
The Circles of Support approach is the antithesis of the approach outlined in our next paper in which Creaney talks about the ways in which the English youth justice system works with ‘involuntary clients’. He describes the lack of opportunity for young people to contribute to the design and delivery of the criminal justice sanctions to which they are subject, and argues for a more participative approach which considers the rights of the child. He identifies the potential of referral orders to allow a circle of family and friends to work with the victim and young person to identify the most appropriate way for the young person to atone for their criminal activity, an approach rooted in the ideals of community justice.
In a similar way the paper by Buchanan argues that the current approach to dealing with the issue of drugs is misguided. Drawing on his personal experience he presents a history of drug policies in the UK and other Western countries over the last fifty years demonstrating how, not only has prohibition been ineffective, but it has actually caused harm globally, locally and individually. It has had a disproportionate impact on the poor and minority ethnic groups, and enabled drug testing businesses to profit. He talks about the hypocrisy of a system which criminalises some drugs but legalises others such as alcohol and tobacco which also cause considerable harm. At the same time the users of illegal drugs are not protected against contaminated substances and the development of new drugs which have unknown consequences. He believes that the UK should learn from countries which have introduced some reforms and move towards an approach which promotes harm reduction and emphasises human rights, the first of which should be the right to consume what you wish.
The role of one of these legal drugs, alcohol, is examined in the next paper by Javaid in relation to its role in intimate partner, often called domestic, violence. This paper presents the results of a small scale study exploring professionals’ views about the role which alcohol plays in the cases of domestic violence which they have been involved with. The problems of definition and the question of gender and power as presented in the literature are addressed before describing the study and presenting the results. These results show how the professionals in the study frequently hear from both the perpetrators and the victims of domestic violence that alcohol is the reason for the violence. Professionals describe how alcohol seems to make unacceptable behaviour acceptable, allowing the perpetrators to avoid taking responsibility for their actions. This in turn makes working with them to change this behaviour difficult. The paper proposes that a restorative approach which brings together both victim and offender together to actively participate in addressing the issue is a more effective approach.
In the final paper in this issue, Honeywell presents the world of the ‘Lifer’, several of whom had murdered an intimate partner in a violent incident. As a prisoner himself he undertook a piece of convict criminology about the lifers who were his friends and fellow prisoners. They had a subculture within the prison that was different to other prisoners, in part because many of them were first time offenders. They frequently tussled with the emotional difficulties of losing relationships with children and spouse, and coming to terms with a long prison sentence. There was greater conformity with the rules of the prison and greater familiarity with prison officers. In the latter stages of their sentence they struggled to develop a ‘normal’ non-criminal identity whilst at the same time having to maintain a ‘prison’ identity whilst they were inside. Achieving a ‘normal’ identity is very much related to the community response upon their release and resettlement.
1* The blogging of Frances Crook of the Howard League helpfully details the stance of each of the parties on justice issues, together with her thoughts on the proposals: http://www.howardleague.org/francescrookblog.
References
Bottoms, A. E. (2008) The Community Dimension of Community Penalties, The Howard Journal, 47 (2): 146-169.
Bottoms, A. E. and Wilson, A. (2004) ‘Attitudes to Punishment in Two High Crime Communities’, in A. E. Bottoms, S. Rex and G. Robinson (Eds.) Alternatives to Prison: Options for an Insecure Society. Cullompton: Willan.
Camina, M. (2004) Understanding and Engaging Deprived Communities. On-line Report 07/04. London: Home Office.
Canton, R. (2015) Crime, punishment and the moral emotions: Righteous minds and their attitudes towards punishment, Punishment & Society, 17(1): 54-72.
Clear, T. R. and Karp, D. R. (2000) Toward the Ideal of Community Justice, NIJ Journal, October 2000: 21-28.
Fitzgibbon, W. and Lea, J. (2010) Police, Probation and the Bifurcation of Community, The Howard Journal, 49(3): 215-230.
Giddens, A. (1984) The Constitution of Society. University of California Press.
Hopkins Burke, R. (2014) The Case for a Radical Moral Communitarianism, British Journal of Community Justice, 12 (3): 1-18.
Karp, D. R. and Clear, T. R. (2000) Community Justice: A Conceptual Framework’, in C. M. Friel (Ed.) Boundary Changes in Criminal Justice Organisations: Criminal Justice 2000, Vol 2: 323-368. Washington: Department of Justice.
Weaver, B. (2009) Communicative punishment as a penal approach to supporting desistance, Theoretical Criminology, 13(1): 9-29.
Weaver, B. (2011) Co-producing Community Justice: the Transformative Potential of Personalisation for Penal Sanctions, British Journal of Social Work, 41: 1038-1057.
Williams, B. (2002) Editorial: the Meanings of Community Justice, British Journal of Community Justice, 1(1): 1-10.
Book Reviews (13.1)
Articles
Nathan Monk
Published | 15/03/2015 |
Type | Review |
Author(s) | Jake Phillips, Anne Robinson |
Corresponding Authors | |
DOA | |
DOI |
SERVANT OF THE CROWN- A CIVIL SERVANT’S STORY OF CRIMINAL JUSTICE AND PUBLIC SECTOR REFORM
Faulkner, David (2014) Hampshire, UK: Waterside Press pp 208 (pbk) £19.95. ISBN 978-1-909976-02-3
This detailed and focused book is an insider’s attempt to make sense of the shifts in policy and decision making, changes between consultation and final result and impacts of different political ideologies that have brought criminal justice to its current position in the UK. It is an account of David Faulkner’s professional work and role underpinned by detailed understanding of changing political positions and by the ideological perspective of the observer. Uniting these three perspectives, personal, political and ideological is an impossible task but David Faulkner navigates the waters with more authority than most observers could. In this volume he complements the analysis given in Faulkner (2006) and Faulkner and Burnett (2011) with a personal, almost autobiographical, account of experience inside Whitehall as a working Civil servant.
While this book contains elements of autobiography Faulkner retains a hold on the crux of the debate raised in previous work: how does and how should the administrative arm of the state relate to the governmental arm? How can a civil service be constructed that has at its heart rigour, ethical practice and humanity and whose principle purpose, in Faulkner’s words, is to ‘speak truth to power’ but which is resourced and managed by the government? This conundrum is particularly clear as Faulkner charts changes like the evolution of ideas about public confidence: originally to reflect certainty that the ‘system was accountable, that what was supposed to happen did happen’ and finally as an argument ‘for convicting more offenders’ (pp90). The argument is pulled together in the final chapter of the book, in which Faulkner allows himself to write more personally. However, a major strength of the book lies in the way in which this fundamental question runs through this account of different roles, tasks and aspects in criminal justice.
The account is detailed and meticulously sourced. Faulkner’s respect for research findings and their place in policy creation is clear: He discusses that issue with caution and insight. To some extent the book is strongest when looking carefully at the way in which the civil service has developed methods of accountability. There is a balance to be struck between being accountable for naming and presenting outcomes and letting those outcomes become the drivers of action rather than reflections of an approach. This organizational challenge is recognized, although it could not be resolved. The book describes the ‘job’ of developing a working managerial civil service in a time when ideas about the state, ideology and practice in government and social mores were all in a state of change. In chapters 5 and 6 and again in chapter 10 Faulkner explicitly explores this with reference to both criminal justice and to the expectations and behaviour of civil servants: A move towards a more punitive approach both to offenders and to professional standards.
Because Faulkner has held different roles, and Home Office responsibilities have changed over time this volume gives insight into some very specific actions, like re-building Holloway Women’s prison. The narrative structure means that the account can end as he moves role. This can lead to a partial story: for instance, responsibility for Northern Ireland came at a particular point in the peace process and therefore does not address many of the complications of that process. The running thread through the narrative account lies in the development and overview of criminal justice in the broadest sense: Not only how to punish but also who to punish and how to support actors in the system. There are particular and detailed accounts of both the prison and probation services: Unusually the points made are supported by reference to non-government actions and discussions. These chapters provide invaluable background reading for students from first degree to doctorate, linked as they are with an understanding of political intention as well as result.
Faulkner does not flinch from personal ideological and actual opposition to government policies. In the build up to the Criminal Justice Act 1991 he presents the development of practical and conceptual difficulties and regrets the final outcome. This does not mean that he is willing to personalize his account. The autobiographical aspect of this book is constrained to description of actions and reactions, ideology and political difference. While the picture of a life lived according to principles of service and professionalism, with care and diligence for those who come into contact with criminal justice is clear, there is no glimpse given of the frustrations and triumphs, the likes and the dislikes, the human faces of the actors.
To some extent this approach makes this narrative a difficult book to become involved in. It is an invaluable account of the actions of the time, both for the detail given and the resources used but the detail can become dense. It addresses the big questions of the last fifty years, as much about relationships of power as about criminal justice. It will be read and enjoyed by those interested in political ideology as much as by criminologists but it is not a book whose merit will be immediately appreciated by newcomers to the area.
Dr Clare Beckett, Senior Lecturer, Sociology and Criminology, University of Bradford
References
Faulkner, D. (2006) Crime State and Citizen: A Field Full of Folk. Hampshire, UK: Waterside Press.
Faulkner, D. and Burnett, R. (2011) Where Next for Criminal Justice? Policy Press.
UNDERSTANDING RESTORATIVE JUSTICE – HOW EMPATHY CAN CLOSE THE GAP CREATED BY CRIME
Pete Wallis (2014). Bristol: Policy Press. pp 224 (pbk) £12.99. ISBN 978-144731742-5
‘Understanding Restorative Justice’ is an interesting read for those concerned with this important and expanding field, combining practical insight with a theoretical foundation as to why ‘empathy’ is the essential ingredient for the successful resolution of crime related harm. In this respect the book makes an innovative contribution to the literature.
Although the declared intent is to provide a resource suitable for general readership, the book is unmistakably written from the experienced practitioner’s perspective, and at times appears to focus more on a practitioner-orientated audience. That being said, it does provide a very good grounding in what Restorative Justice (‘RJ’) is all about, highlighting relevant academic and empirical research as well as explaining the realities and practical mechanics of facilitating the RJ process. The easy conversational style, use of topic and sub-headings, cartoon-type illustrations, list of current resources and key texts, certainly provides both a comprehensive and readable introduction to the ‘restorative approach.’ In some respects it is arguable that its simplicity of form and presentation belies the significance of this work.
What makes this an innovative contribution to the field is that Pete Wallis has focused on the interaction between the offender (‘the person responsible’) and the victim (‘the person harmed’) and provides a cogent explanation as to why empathy is ‘the driver’ for the RJ process. Using Simon Baron-Cohen’s recent work on the link between offending and low empathy, Wallis takes the reader on the restorative journey explaining how at the point of the offence a ‘gap’ is created between the parties despite the fact that the harm inextricably links them together. As the author points out, empathy ‘is a notoriously complex topic’ of interest to scholars in a variety of disciplines, and so in introducing the subject, the construct (supported by useful authorities) is defined in the context of restorative practice. More importantly, Wallis explains the need for ‘resonant empathy’: the restorative process is dynamic, where parties are carefully brought closer together on the ‘restorative journey’ to heal the harm, through a greater understanding of the other’s perspective.
Through the following thirteen chapters, the six ‘levels’ of empathy are explored. At the outset the harm creates the ‘gap’. Those who are hurt or are unhappy understandably focus on their suffering and it is difficult to see the perspective of anyone else. This applies as much to the person responsible for the harm as the person harmed, for, as has been suggested by others, there is arguably a link between the causes of crime and unhappiness and such unhappiness causes us to focus ‘on the self’. This is Empathy Level Zero: ‘hurting’, where in many cases the parties do not want to have further contact, often from fear of the consequences. However in doing so, many people are unable to fully resume their former lives as if the harm had never happened. Interestingly Wallis makes the point (which really invites further exploration) that the Criminal Justice System (‘CJS’) often can be seen as reinforcing the gap (or ‘social distance’) between the parties when, for example, the parties are prevented from making contact and at most, limiting the role of the person harmed to the submission of a Victim Personal Statement during the court
process. In this respect Wallis argues the case for ‘parallel justice’ in the CJS to ensure the needs of both ‘the harmer’ and ‘the harmed’ are more effectively addressed.
The point is well made however, of the importance of the CJS in cases where an element of compulsion is necessary to bring the parties together. The two chapters which constitute ‘Empathy Level One: seeing’ notes how the RJ process can be a legal requirement in some circumstances and provides examples of the Family Group Conferencing experience in New Zealand and Northern Ireland. One aspect which could have been further interrogated is whether statutorily or court imposed time frames for RJ conferencing (which appears to structure RJ around CJS imperatives), can undermine the process, bearing in mind it has to be ‘a partnership of the willing’ (p.122). Each party is on a personal journey of healing and the legal framework requires flexibility to accommodate individual needs which is emphasised in the following four chapters that describe ‘Empathy Level Two: voicing’.
As Wallis notes ‘one of the trickiest aspects of successful restorative justice involves getting the timing right’ (p.71) and from this point onwards (with subsequent chapters covering Empathy Levels: Three – ‘hearing’; Four – ‘helping’; and Five – ‘healing’), the author draws on his extensive work as a facilitator, highlighting both the problems likely to be encountered along the journey and providing guidance in getting the parties to close the gap to achieve a healing resolution. Even so, the book is well balanced, explaining why the ‘take-up rate’ of RJ is woefully small and that there will always be cases where the parties can’t or won’t move and situations where a restorative ‘encounter’ should not even be attempted. Essentially ‘Understanding Restorative Justice’ is not only a very important resource for anyone associated with the RJ field, but it should prompt more academic enquiry into the dynamics of the inter-party relationship and raises an important issue for policy makers: how can RJ be ‘institutionalised’ without losing the essentially human, and intangible, element of empathy.
A.R. Parsons, PhD Candidate, Institute of Criminology, University of Cambridge
INNOVATIVE JUSTICE
Hannah Graham and Rob White (2015) Oxon: Routledge. pp 170 (hbk) £85.00 ISBN 978-0-415-63211-9
Innovative Justice provides a welcome addition to the field of criminology and criminal justice. The global reshaping and restructuring of criminal justice systems and agencies has increased acceptance of social entrepreneurship and innovative justice ‘making a positive difference in the lives of offenders and those around them’ (p.1). This timely book presents a number of innovative projects in criminal justice from jurisdictions around the world. The authors take on quite a challenge in doing this, as these innovative projects are subject to (sometimes unpredictable) rapid changes from ‘fiscal insecurity, short-termism in funding and electoral cycles and politics of the jurisdictions and social contexts in which they exist’ (p.17). There are also very challenging methodological issues with research of this magnitude. The authors use an Appreciative Inquiry (AI) approach which is an applied and collaborative method with an action-oriented change focus, which is positive and strengths-based (p.13). The research method itself is somewhat innovative, and the authors succeed in delivering a ground-breaking and inspirational book.
Innovative Justice comprises eight chapters: Chapter one begins with a critical overview of the paradoxes of justice in criminal justice systems around the world, and it outlines the key concepts and theoretical foundations of the book, notably theories of desistance. A discussion of defining innovative justice follows with an overview of the research methods adopted.
The innovations are presented in chapters two to seven through six broad themes: (1) the arts: from prison-based initiatives teaching skilled needlework to inmates in England and Wales to hand-crafted products such as greeting cards and home furnishings in Bolivia; (2) Skills-based initiatives: a number of vocational and educational prison initiatives from the United States and the United Kingdom, that include programmes teaching prisoners entrepreneurial skills or building motorcycles, and workshops in shoe and watch repairs possibly leading to employment post-release; (3) Greening justice: a number of initiatives which ‘provide in-depth insight into the human dimensions associated with learning about, interacting with, and deriving benefit from Nature’ (p.54). Examples include a prison gardening and horticultural initiative in Australia and a project in Papua New Guinea teaching inmates and correctional officers the basics of fish farming; (4) Animals and therapeutic justice: therapeutic benefits of including animals in a variety of criminal justice contexts including prison-based animal programmes in the United States, which deliver therapeutic, rehabilitative and vocational projects with inmates, and a programme in Israel providing dog training classes to prisoners with complex needs; (5) Countering extremism: chapter six focuses on working with terrorist and extremist offenders in Saudi Arabia and reducing hate crimes in Northern Ireland. Although the authors acknowledge they ‘are not subject experts’ (p.93), they provide a good discussion and reflection of the innovations and ideas; (6) Community-based justice: the Yellow Ribbon Project in Singapore raises public awareness and community support for the reintegration of exoffenders from their communities, and an initiative in Australia that trains prisoners to
volunteer as community sports umpires whilst serving prison sentences.
All empirical chapters are similarly structured, sharing common sub-headings. The structure works very well and allows for continuity throughout the book, which increases content accessibility. The empirical chapters outline the ‘Foundational concepts and practices,’ and each initiative is described under the heading ‘Snapshots of innovation’, with a review section, ‘Understanding best practices’ critically appraising the initiatives’ key lessons and learning points. Next, the section ‘Questions and critical reflections’ offers ‘an opportunity to encourage critical thought and reflexive application’ (p.18).
In chapter eight, the authors draw together the key themes, issues and critical reflections of the book, highlighting the challenges and positive contribution of innovation in criminal justice very well. In particular, suggesting core principles for innovation and advocating the use of strengths-based approaches in researching and evaluating such initiatives.
The analysis is heavily focused on prison-based projects and initiatives, and a complimentary review of community-based projects within each themed section would have strengthened the empirical chapters. In addition, a key concern of projects and initiatives working with offenders is the evaluation of their impact. Whilst some of the initiatives appear to have incorporated evaluative processes, this was unclear for many of those presented, and some discussion of evaluation of impact would have been useful. The critical reflection sections assist the reader in understanding the themes of best practice for the initiatives presented, and they provide questions to encourage critical
thought, which adds to the concise and accessible nature of the book.
Overall, the authors set out to ‘promote innovation and improvement in services and systems that work with ex-offenders’ and pursue their passion for ‘what else works’ (p.12). They achieve this in a thoughtful and well-structured book, which will be of valued interest to academics, criminal justice practitioners, students and innovators.
Dr Daniel Marshall, Managing Director, 81 Dots and Visiting Scholar, Institute of Criminology, University of Cambridge
WHAT WORKS IN OFFENDER COMPLIANCE: INTERNATIONAL PERSPECTIVES AND EVIDENCE-BASED PRACTICE
Pamela Ugwudike and Peter Raynor (2013) Basingstoke: Palgrave MacMillan. pp 382 (pbk) £25.99 ISBN 978-1-137-01951-6
The discussion around compliance and its related dynamics is, by the say of the editors Pamela Ugwudike and Peter Raynor, a ‘mammoth task’ (p.4). Compliance is a multidimensional construct with varying characteristics according to the specific relationships and contexts at play (e.g., probation officers and probationers in the community, prison officers and prisoners in prison etc.). The editors must be praised for the great effort which they have undertaken in compiling a book whose contributions are mostly organic, exhaustive and stimulate further discussion. This book includes a variety of themes, from community sentences to probation, from critical investigation to a reconstruction of the history of supervision in England and Wales. The book leads the reader into a full immersion about the topics and issues around compliance. The feeling, at the end of the book, is of a healthy balance between intellectual fulfilment and stimulation, which leads to further curiosities and questions about compliance, in its theoretical and practical applications. The book is a great anthology aimed at “practitioners, students, policy makers and others interested in rehabilitation research, policy and practice” (p.5).
The book, while providing useful insights, shows the limitations of approaching single contributions separately. I appreciate the discussions around the concept of compliance as it is applied in various areas of the criminal justice system and in different countries around the world (Belgium, France, United States, and Australia). The book is best appreciated when read cover to cover, in order to fully understand the complex interrelationships between the themes focused upon in each individual chapter. To do otherwise would give the reader only a partial understanding of this complex topic. Compliance is multi-componential and best understood by adopting a socio-psychological
perspective, together with a historical and cultural one. This approach helps to appreciate how the ‘issue’ of compliance is dealt with in other countries, or, for England and Wales, how it has been dealt with in the past.
The book provides evidence of effective practices which may encourage compliance, and the sheer importance of addressing service users’ needs and difficulties. At the same time the book also shows how the current demands on practitioners can defeat this same aspiration for compliance. The demand for ‘quantitative’ indicators of compliance is one example. This requirement does not always reflect true change or desistance (substantive compliance) but, rather, a form of compliance which is only ‘formal’ (a superficial change which satisfies managerialist ‘tick boxes’ exercises rather than reflecting true rehabilitation and ‘reformation’ of the ex-offenders). This important distinction in forms of compliance (see Bottoms, 2001, and in this book, and more recently McNeill and Robinson, 2012) is well articulated by Ben Crewe in his chapter on prisoners’ compliance. Here he provides an indication of the wider influences which the socio-political climate, current policies and social environments can actually be counterproductive and stimulate a superficial acceptance of fate – one which is mistakenly interpreted as compliance.
The book represents an important call to reconsider the current practices and policies in offenders’ rehabilitation and supervision. The criminal justice system’s limited understanding of compliance becomes evident where, for example, programme completion, recidivism and its equivalent desistance are assumed as true indicators of compliance. This call for a critical approach is echoed in Gelsthorpe and Robinson’s chapters. The former chapter sets the basis for a theoretical discussion around the need to be careful in discussing compliance, as it is often a blurred concept which imprecisely overlaps with issues linked to programme completion and desistance. The latter chapter
argues that the meaning of compliance has been historically and socially constructed, and must not be taken as a given. Policies to foster compliance have detoured from the key need for ‘substantive compliance’ in favour of ‘formal compliance’. This is particularly true as the range of factors which interfere is quite extended, as shown in Ugwudike’s chapter. External factors, such as child minding needs and/or transportation difficulties, can considerably affect one person’s ability to attend supervisory meetings, with this lack of attendance being solely at the level of formal non-compliance, rather than substantial non-compliance.
For this reason, and also because the working relationship between practitioners and service users is a two-way relationship, the editors support the further investigation of offenders’ ‘responsivity’ (as indicated in the Risk-Need-Responsivity model; see Andrews et al., 2011). This can be obtained by building on offenders’ motivation and by removing potential and actual obstacles to completion. The importance of ‘responsivity’ emerges in the chapters by Gelsthorpe, Bateman, and Sparrow (see chapters 16-18) who discuss the cases of women, youth, and drug misusing service users respectively. The current system must address the specific needs of these ‘minorities’ to favour successful completion of sentences and the breaking of the cycle of re-incarceration.
The book is a wonderful anthology where the various chapters intersect, complete and fulfil each other, and deliver a well-articulated overview of the concept of compliance. The key message of this book is the need to develop policies and interventions which promote ‘substantive’ rather than formal ‘compliance’, through a more critical and holistic approach to rehabilitation. The editors Pamela Ugwudike and Peter Raynor have done a great job in providing a very exhaustive piece of work on this topic. This book is a much needed addition to the literature and the shelves of anybody interested in compliance, rehabilitation and desistance from crime.
Fabio Tartarini, PhD Candidate, Institute of Criminology, University of Cambridge
References
Andrews, D. A., Bonta, J. and Wormith, J. S. (2011) The Risk-Need-Responsivity (RNR) Model: Does Adding the Good Lives Model Contribute to Effective Crime Prevention? Criminal Justice and Behavior, 38(7): 735–755.
Bottoms, A. E. (2001) ‘Compliance and community penalties’, in A. E. Bottoms, L. Gelsthorpe and S. Rex (Eds.) Community Penalties: Change and Challenges, Cullompton: Willan: 87–116.
McNeill, F. and Robinson, G. (2012) ‘Liquid legitimacy and community sanctions’, in A. Crawford & A. Hucklesby (Eds.) Legitimacy and Compliance in Criminal Justice. Cullompton: Willan: 116–137.
Ward, T. and Maruna, S. (2007) Rehabilitation: Beyond the risk paradigm. Oxford: Routledge.
The Role of Alcohol in Intimate Partner Violence: Causal Behaviour or Excusing Behaviour?
Articles
Nathan Monk
Published | 15/03/2015 |
Type | Article |
Author(s) | Aliraza Javaid |
Corresponding Authors | Aliraza Javaid, Lecturer in Criminology, Leeds Beckett University |
DOA | |
DOI |
This article sets out to explore the relationship between alcohol and intimate partner violence. This research will explore the role that alcohol contributes to intimate partner violence and how it influences such a phenomenon. The empirical research is based on 12 semi-structured interviews with professionals who deal with or have dealt with victims and/or offenders of intimate partner violence. The professionals range from academics to social workers in the North East region within the United Kingdom. By adopting a qualitative approach, this research found that alcohol was used as an excuse in intimate partner violence cases. The data presented herein only give an insight into the discourses of professionals in relation to this topic rather than the views of the victims and offenders themselves. This research stipulates that alcohol is not causal in relation to intimate partner violence but it does offer the offender a ‘shield’, which allows them to identify themselves not as a ‘violent abuser’ but rather as someone whose drinking can lead them to do things they otherwise would not do.
Introduction
The aim of this study is to understand the experiences of professionals dealing with alcohol and intimate partner violence; these professionals hypothesize about their heterosexual, rather than lesbian or gay, clients. It is, of course, impossible from a study of 12 professionals to determine the relationship between substance abuse and partner violence. The aim of this study, though, is to carefully and rigorously examine the professionals’ experiences of dealing with alcohol and intimate partner violence, as there has been a lack of social research on this area of study, more specifically, in the North East region within the United Kingdom. However, international concern about the issue of intimate partner violence still continues to grow. This includes some consideration of a link between violent behaviour and alcohol—the nature of which has not been clearly defined. The connection between intimate partner violence and alcohol is certainly intricate and mediated by significant economic, etiologic, and social factors. This research gives an in-depth analysis into several aspects regarding intimate partner violence and alcohol. It is identified that this research cannot address all relevant issues, but an attempt has been made to achieve a balanced account of current knowledge and thinking. Due to the small sample size in this study (n=12), the results cannot be generalised; but the purpose of this research is to generate fine-grained, meaningful, in-depth qualitative data to explore specific details that the professionals choose to impart.
Feminist theory is used as a foundation in this research to discuss the themes of power and control in support of the research findings. Feminist theory within intimate partner violence stresses power and gender inequality within opposite-sex relationships. It focuses on societal messages that allow men’s use of aggression and violence throughout life, and the gender roles that expect how women and men ought to behave in their intimate relationships (Pence & Paymar, 1993). It sees the root causes of intimate partner violence as the outcome of living a society that condones aggressive behaviours committed by males, whilst socialising females to be non-violent. The research findings presented demonstrate that men are the offenders while women are the victims. Therefore, feminist theory is most appropriate to use in this research when critically examining intimate partner violence and alcohol collectively. However, it must be stressed that men can also become victims of intimate partner violence (Walklate, 2004). This research will focus particularly on alcohol and its association with intimate partner violence.
Literature Review
Though a large amount of the literature conveys the perception of a direct cause between alcohol use and violent behaviour, most studies are speculative since few differentiate between the precise quantity and occurrence of alcohol use at the time of violent behaviour. Most studies rely on self-classifications and self-reports rather than objective measures of the use of alcohol, such as blood tests or saliva (Loseke, 2005). Another problem is defining and conceptualising the use of alcohol because phrases and words that have different meanings are usually used interchangeably; for instance, abuse, alcohol use, alcoholism, excessive use, dependency, over-use, and so on (Loseke, 2005). Domestic violence is a worldwide phenomenon affecting entire societies indirectly and directly. However, after decades of research, no single definition satisfactorily explains this phenomenon. Current unofficial and official definitions of domestic violence have a tendency to interconnect with other types of violence, confusing understanding and producing ambiguity. This can affect the validity and reliability of research and produce shortfalls in practices and policies aimed at challenging domestic violence. Therefore, defining ‘domestic violence’ is extremely difficult, especially when culturally there are different interpretations and ideas of what constitutes intimate partner violence. Thinking within the sphere of the 21st century, the Home Office stipulates a common definition of domestic violence: “Any incident of threatening behaviour, violence or abuse (psychological, physical, sexual, financial or emotional) between adults who are or have been intimate partners or family members, regardless of gender or sexuality” (Home Office, 2005). Given the complexity surrounding the definition of domestic violence, it seems appropriate to use the phrase ‘intimate partner violence’ throughout this paper. In doing so, it includes all relationship types.
Statistically, intimate partner violence is common in sexual relationships with or without substance use disorders, though the number of intimate partner violence cases is higher in sexual relationships wherein one partner has an alcohol or other substance use disorder (Miller & Carroll, 2006). In this study, the authors argue that, “67% of persons who victimize an intimate partner […] use alcohol compared to 38% who victimized an acquaintance or 31% who victimized a stranger” (p.103). Moreover, clinicians infrequently deal with intimate partner violence as part of alcohol abuse treatment, regardless of its high occurrence in intimate partner violence cases (Miller & Carroll, 2006). When clinicians do, they may use unsuitable or inappropriate models of intervention for the intimate partner violence, for example, giving separate referrals for the male and female, or they may presume that the male is invariably the perpetrator of violence when this is not always the case (Miller & Carroll, 2006). However, feminist practitioners have stated that batterers and victims should be treated separately, but I argue that this is inappropriate, because by using restorative justice as an approach, it can focus on the needs of both the victims and the offenders instead of punishing the offender and satisfying abstract legal principles. Rather, the victims take an active role in the process, whilst the perpetrators are encouraged to take responsibility for their actions. Restorative justice involves both the victim and perpetrator and focuses on their personal needs.
Other research found that heavy alcohol use and associated problems are well-established risk factors for intimate partner violence, and many females who are the victims of such a phenomenon ascribe male violence to alcohol consumption (O’Leary & Schumacher, 2003; Eckhardt, 2007). Older research demonstrates that males consume alcohol for ‘Dutch Courage’ to cope with marital problems, but they frequently say that they ‘did not know what they were doing’ or ‘cannot remember doing it’ because they were drunk when committing violence under the influence of alcohol (Freeman, 1979:138). Thus, they are able to transfer the blame for executing violence from themselves and onto the effects of alcohol (Freeman, 1979). This implies that alcohol may facilitate particular violent actions but is not necessarily the direct, underling cause for intimate partner violence.
Although research on intimate partner violence shows a high rate of co-occurrence of alcohol and violence use by one or both partners, alcohol did not appear to be a direct cause of the violence (Leonard et al., 2003). A husband’s heavy premarital drinking was predictive of severe violence within relationships that were high in conflict, but not in low-conflict relationships (Leonard & Quigley, 1999). Again, this is consistent with the view of alcohol as a facilitator instead of an instigator of intimate partner violence. A husband’s drinking was more likely to happen in examples of severe physical violence rather than in examples of moderate verbal aggression or physical violence (Leonard & Quigley, 1999). Among couples who had suffered both physical and verbal aggression, the husband’s drinking was more likely in examples of physical violence than in examples of verbal aggression (Leonard & Quigley, 1999).
There has been research arguing that men consume alcohol as a form of self-medication, which is an effort to reduce or neutralise the rage they have within, however, the opposite occurs wherein alcohol eliminates control mechanisms, facilitating violence (Fleming, 1979). Although this is an interesting argument and seems logical, one must be aware of Fleming’s low sample size—this means his results cannot be generalised to all cases involving alcohol, a small subset of cases requires interpretation with caution. However, given this evidence, it can be seen that when alcohol is predominant in intimate partner violence cases, it may ‘trigger’ violence but it is not solely the direct cause of intimate partner violence, which seems to be, more often than not, deeper-rooted and intricate. Fleming (1979:291) quotes that, “By pleading drunkenness, wife beaters and their families can deceive themselves as to what is really going on.” It may be inferred that alcohol is one of many factors that usually facilitates situations in which intimate partner violence develops. In addition, alcohol might be used as an excuse for violent behaviour and it may trigger arguments that fuel violence, but contrary to conventional beliefs, it is usually not a direct cause of violent behaviour. Therefore, it does not help to fully explain intimate partner violence.
There are three main types of intimate partner violence and their association to gender differs (Johnson, 2007). Johnson’s work around the relative role of power and control in different ‘typologies’ of intimate partner violence is based within the nature of the control context of the relationship wherein the violence occurs. In his terms, intimate terrorism is violence ingrained in a relationship context of general coercive control. Intimate terrorism is the violence to which feminist theories refer, wherein one partner utilises violence and other coercive control methods to try to gain general control over her/his partner. Johnson uses gender theory to demonstrate that, though coercive controlling violence can be committed by either women or men within same-sex or heterosexual relationships, it will most frequently be within heterosexual relationships, where it is essentially committed by men (Johnson, 2007). The second type of intimate partner violence, violent resistance, occurs when the target of intimate terrorism carries out violence when reacting to the coercive controlling violence of her partner. In heterosexual relationships, violent resistance is utilised essentially by women. The final type of intimate partner violence is situational couple violence, and this occurs within the context of certain conflicts that end in arguments that lead to verbal aggression and, eventually, to physical violence. Johnson demonstrates that the execution of situational couple violence is approximately gender symmetric, and that it is perhaps as likely to happen in same-sex as in heterosexual relationships (Johnson, 2006).
That said, men’s situational couple violence includes more injuries and incidents and creates more fear than does women’s situational couple violence (Johnson, 1999). Within situational couple violence, the probability of fear or injury is influenced by size differences (Johnson, 2006). Additionally, a slap from a woman is still seen as an entirely different act than is one from a man (Johnson, 2006). Further, UK society’s cultures of femininity and masculinity contribute to communication issues in couples that are usually linked to situational couple violence (Johnson, 2006). This argument may help to understand the potential differences and similarities of the role of alcohol in different ‘forms’ of intimate partner violence. The gender dimension will be explored in the empirical findings, but it is important to note that this study premised itself on heterosexual relationships, so excluding same-sex relationships.
Feminist Theory
Feminist theory of patriarchy is critically evaluated because, in this research, it was found that the professionals believe that intimate partner violence is about male offenders executing power and control onto their victims. Another reason why it is used is because the feminist perspectives have typically been applied to the study of intimate partner violence. The feminist positions situate intimate partner violence within the extensive social structure. For example, the notion that a hierarchy embedded in patriarchal relations allows men to execute domination, power and control over women (Radford & Stanko, 1996). In other words, feminists usually see intimate partner violence as suggestive of a patriarchal culture wherein men regard their wives as possessions, thereby, making it difficult for women to escape their husband’s control—intimate partner violence is used as a tool to execute power and control (Borkowski, Murch, & Walker, 1983). Radford and Stanko (1996) support this view, as they hypothesise that male violence is omnipresent because it is a characteristic of all societies underpinned by female subordination and male supremacy.
It is important to note that intimate partner violence is not just men committing violence against women. For example, there is research to prove that women do commit violence against men and men do also commit intimate partner violence against other men (Walklate, 2004). Walklate argues that feminist research, both empirically and conceptually, contribute to the marginalisation of male victims of intimate partner violence. Feminist research, focusing solely on male violence against women, gives the suggestion that only women (and female children) can become victims of intimate partner violence—implicitly leaving us with the belief that men cannot be victims of intimate partner violence (Walklate, 2004). This is neither downplaying the political movement and significance of everything that was attained by feminist activists and academics in highlighting awareness of intimate partner violence, sexual violence, sexual assault, and rape, etc. Rather, this work aims to stress that both men and women can be, and very much are victims of intimate partner violence. However, most feminist research assumes that intimate partner violence is only applicable to females. The difficulty of getting valid research findings within the broad area of intimate partner violence, then, makes it problematic to reach a firm conclusion on which results are an outcome of direct discrimination. Walklate (2004) comments that it is vital to challenge any approach that attempts to essentialise the differences between females and males but, simultaneously, this research should not be read as anti-feminist. This research is specifically focusing on men’s violence against women, but also stresses that intimate partner violence is a broad area, which can include either male or female victims.
However, when critically examining men’s violence against women, there are some weaknesses of feminist theory. For example, Bryson (1992) argues that the radical feminist theory of male domination is descriptive instead of analytical and is unable to elucidate the inception of male supremacy, power and control. Therefore, she declares that radical feminist theory is incapable of proposing appropriate strategies for aborting male power. Another criticism of radical feminist theory is that it only reflects the experiences of white middle-class women and ignores the very different experiences of black, working-class, and third world women (Bryson, 1992). It is important to consider the variation of race and class when explaining male violence against women because there is structural bias in the criminal justice system, not just against women, but also working-class women and black people (Croall, 1998; Reiner, 1992). The researcher supports these valid critiques of feminism, so this research aims to fairly consider these biases in terms of intimate partner violence and how such biases are seen in society.
Research Methods and Methodology
Research Methods Employed
The researcher adopted face-to-face interviews and telephone interviews. The interviews were tape-recorded, to explore the experiences of professionals dealing with alcohol and intimate partner violence. These research methods allowed a detailed understanding of the subject matter without “imposing any a priori categorisation that may limit the field of inquiry” (Fontana & Frey, 2000:653). To gain rich, qualitative data, the researcher used semi-structured interviews because they offer the richness and depth of data that is needed to investigate topics (Byrne, 2004). “[Interviews] provide better access to interviewees’ view, interpretations of events, understandings, experiences and opinions” (Byrne, 2004:182). Due to the difficulties of access and the time restraints that accompany interviewing professionals, the researcher offered them the option of telephone interviews. Therefore, it was possible to secure interviews with individuals that otherwise may have been unwilling to sacrifice the time it takes to meet up for a face-to-face interview. The average time of a telephone interview was around 15 minutes compared to a face-to-face interview that lasted on average 30 minutes.
Semi-structured interviews offer flexibility whilst allowing the researcher to still focus on the process without dominating it. In this context, it allows the researcher to give the professionals a degree of freedom, which builds confidence and rapport and is also important in drawing out rich, useful, in-depth data. A rigid fixed approach to interviews would not be appropriate in this context, as some of the professionals were not primarily concerned with solely alcohol and intimate partner violence, so steering them quickly away from issues that concerned them, may deter them from providing useful information later on. In addition, as professionals, they may have important contributions to make that are not directly requested by the interviewer (Gomm, 2004:178).
However, by using such research methods, there were some weaknesses: it took a long time to complete the interviews, and to transcribe the qualitative data particularly because at times, the phone signal was somewhat poor but manageable. Nevertheless, there were some strengths of using the research methods: the rich, in-depth data that was supplied by the professionals enabled the researcher to gain an insight into what role alcohol plays in intimate partner violence cases, considering access was extremely difficult to attain to interview victims and offenders of intimate partner violence. Overall, the approach adopted provided a well-rounded, complete comprehension of the study to understand the experiences of professionals dealing with alcohol and intimate partner violence collectively. That said, the focus of the interviews was to explore the professionals’ experiences of dealing with intimate partner violence and alcohol collectively, and an appropriate interview schedule was developed based on qualitative interviewing techniques, so the data could easily be captured.
Data Analysis
Thematic analysis was used to analyse the data gathered from the interviews to manage the different themes that emerged from the data. This type of data analysis allowed a detailed understanding of intimate partner violence involving alcohol and its effects on victims’ lives. The data analysis and interpretation were developed from the grounded theorist approach, developed by Glaser and Strauss (1967), since the study aimed to comprehend the professionals’ experiences of intimate partner violence and alcohol in a detailed way, which the grounded approach accommodates. This approach seeks to iterate the mode of analysis, ‘grounding’ the analyst more and more into the data to formulate progressively richer conceptions on how the phenomenon at the centre of enquiry works. To attain these, verbatim transcripts were continually read, frequently line-by-line, and key words and phrases were highlighted in the procedure of ‘open coding’ whereby the analyst drew out key themes using real examples from the text.
Case Study
A case study approach allows the researcher to comprehensively examine certain types of individuals (Yin, 2003). According to Yin, a case study design should be considered when (a) the focus of the study is to answer “how” and “why” questions, and (b) one cannot manipulate the behaviour of those involved in the study. This study premised itself on a case study because the researcher intended to study specific types of individuals within, specifically, the North East region in the UK: professionals dealing with intimate partner violence, wherein alcohol is involved whether in practice or in theory. The rationale for interviewing the professionals is that they are key people in contact with victims and offenders of intimate partner violence and have a core understanding of the impact of violence on victims and the factors that contribute to the violence. They are also able to provide information concerning the needs of victims and the adequacy of existing services in meeting these needs.
Sampling/Access
A snowball sampling method was adopted: the researcher was searching for specific professionals within a variety of organisations that deal with alcohol and intimate partner violence, and those sampled participants proposed other participants who have had the experience of dealing with intimate partner violence cases where alcohol was involved. The professionals were initially contacted through email to ask if they would like to participate in the research. 19 professionals were contacted but 7 declined, resulting in the final sample size as being 12. Therefore, the limitation of this study is that the results cannot be generalised to the wider population of professionals dealing with intimate partner violence and alcohol collectively. Nevertheless, the aim of this study is to explore the professionals’ personal experiences and understandings of the phenomenon. Of the professionals who did agree, 4 were academics who carry out research on intimate partner violence and alcohol collectively; 3 were probation officers who recurrently deal with offenders who commit intimate partner violence; 3 were voluntary agency workers who continually deal with, and counsel intimate partner violence victims; and 2 were crisis workers who frequently support victims who have been subjected to intimate partner violence. In total, there were 4 men and 8 women in the sample and they all have at least 4.5 years of experience in dealing with the topic of intimate partner violence. The participants were not able to give a precise figure on how many clients (who they deal with) come from either a low-income background or high-income background, but they commented that the majority of offenders and victims come from the former.
Ethics
The professionals were made aware of the topic that the researcher was investigating, and that the interview could be terminated at any time they wished. The professionals’ testimonies could be retracted at any time before publication and were also provided with a contact email address in case they wish to contact the researcher. It was stressed that there was no need to mention the names of any individuals or organisations during the interview, as it was ensured that the data collected would be non-attributable and kept anonymous and confidential. The interviews that were carried out face-to-face were provided with a consent form for the interviews, to secure the agreement of participants that the research can include their quotes in the paper.
There was the possibility that the interviews could be emotional for the professionals, as interviews on sensitive topics may provoke powerful emotional responses (Jansen et al., 2004). The researcher was, therefore, aware of the effects that the interview questions may have on the professionals and how best to respond, based on their level of distress. However, asking them to reveal stories of their experiences of tackling intimate partner violence can be a transforming experience for both the researcher and professionals, as there is evidence that most participants welcome the opportunity to tell their stories if they are asked in an empathetic, non-judgmental way (Jansen et al., 2004). The researcher, therefore, remained neutral, non-judgmental and empathetic when interviewing.
Ethical dilemmas were always centered on ensuring that the professionals were neither physically nor psychologically harmed by the research, and mechanisms were used to make sure of this during the research process. For example, the interviewer remained neutral when conducting the interviews to not challenge the professionals’ answers. It was also ensured that the research process did not in any way interfere with or hinder their work. To ensure this, fieldwork was conducted when they were not occupied, so the interviews were fitted around their work commitments. However, Lee (1993:4) asserts that in sensitive research, the researcher can also experience potential costs. Lee further argues that while sensitive research includes some cost (either in terms of inconvenience, time, or finance), the feature of sensitive research is that possible costs surpass the unexpected. Indeed, the researcher experienced a cluster of costs, such as inconvenience, time, and finance, but fieldwork required the researcher to go to the places where it was most convenient for the professionals, so primary research could be conducted on their terms.
Results/Discussion
The aim of this study is to understand the experiences of professionals dealing with alcohol and intimate partner violence, so when observing the results, it is important to be aware that the statements only provide insight into the discourses of professionals in relation to this topic rather than the views of the victims and offenders themselves. It is also important to bear in mind that the results cannot be generalised to all professionals dealing with alcohol and intimate partner violence since the sample size is small, but the researcher sought to generate fine-grained data to understand the professionals’ nuanced meanings. On the one hand, their meanings somewhat differed, on the other hand, their meanings differed depending on the theme that was discussed, as the following data will show.
There are a number of key themes that emerged from the interviews when using thematic analysis, concerning alcohol and intimate partner violence. Firstly, victims may blame violent behaviour on the abusers consumption of alcohol, claiming that they have a ‘drink problem.’ This excuses the behaviour, making a non-acceptable behaviour more acceptable and leads them to believe that violence only happens when alcohol is a contributing factor, and that the abuser is different when they are not under the influence of alcohol. It emerged in the interviews that the phenomenon of victims ‘excusing’ their partner’s violent behaviour was a recurrent theme. Many of the professionals said that they had come across victims that described their partners as a “different person” when intoxicated. Therefore, absolving the abuser of any guilt when sober. For example:
‘The victims sort of vary in that some buy into the idea you’re not fully responsible if you are drunk. So, perhaps early on in the [sic], the family might say well he [the offender] was ‘drunk’, ‘he didn’t really mean it [the violence]’, ‘he apologised afterwards’.’ (Professional 2)
‘You hear that the victim saying that without alcohol, ‘he’s the nicest guy in the world, and the best father in the world, it’s only when he’s had a drink that things perhaps might change.’ So they sort of try and validate, I guess, that ultimately, this is a nice fella who has some issues with alcohol that have to be addressed.’ (Professional 4)
The professionals state that they believe that victims may also use alcohol as a coping mechanism, which can exacerbate the circle of violence and blame. For example, a different professional acknowledged that, “It [alcohol] plays a part in relation to both the perpetrator who might have been drinking but also the victim who might have been drinking as well.” This was another recurrent theme albeit to a lesser extent. It does, however, illustrate that as well as blaming their partner’s drinking for the violence, it shows that victims also blame themselves so seeing it as a legitimate reason for being victims of violence. This evidence falls in line with the work of Fleming (1979) who notes the use of self-deception in violent relationships. Mahapatra (2012) observes that some communities have their own socio-cultural expressions of violence against women, for example, high degrees of secretiveness or emphasis on close family ties that dissuade women from disclosing violent abuse, or self-blame due to one’s actions in previous lives.
The third major theme is that alcohol is not a causal factor. Of the 12 professionals interviewed, the overwhelming response (11) was that alcohol is used to excuse what is seen by both perpetrator and victim as unacceptable behaviour or it is a contributory factor. None of the 12 professionals were willing to conclude that alcohol has a causal link to intimate partner violence. One commented, “The problem is violence and alcohol is used to justify it. So yes, it’s a factor, but it doesn’t have a causal link.” This statement concurs with the literature surrounding alcohol and intimate partner violence, in that alcohol did not appear to be a direct cause of the violence (Leonard & Quigley, 1999; Leonard et al., 2003), highlighting that alcohol is a facilitator rather than an instigator of intimate partner violence. Similarly, another professional commented:
‘Often, alcohol abuse can be used as an excuse for behaving in an abusive manner. I would say that the most serious cases of domestic violence that I’ve come across tend to have a link with alcohol and often the perpetrator will often try to hide behind that as a reason for their behaviour.’ (Professional 6)
Other professionals believed that, when alcohol is a main factor in intimate partner violence cases, it could exacerbate the violent, hostile situation wherein the victim and offender situate particularly when mixed in with other substances, such as illegal drugs:
‘It [alcohol] plays a part in relation to both the perpetrator who might have been drinking but also the victim who might have been drinking as well, so you know the intensity and … the situation may well be exacerbated or intensified or made even worse or complicated by either the taking of alcohol, or even by the taking of drugs.’ (Professional 8)
‘I think it [alcohol] may contribute and exacerbate certain situations because it will inhibit a guy’s thinking, but I think more certainly I would say that it allows the perpetrator to hide behind an excuse for his behaviour.’ (Professional 12, emphasis added)
We can reasonably speculate that violence can be made worse when alcohol and drugs are involved. In particular, we should see considerable intimate terrorism, a type of intimate partner violence that is highly likely to lead to relationship decline and dissolution (Johnson & Ferraro, 2000), and that is primarily male-perpetrated (Johnson, 2006). As for situational couple violence, which varies dramatically in its seriousness (Johnson, 2008), we would expect the more serious violence to be most likely to lead to divorce. Although men’s situational couple violence is more likely than women’s to create fear, injuries, and psychological damage (Kimmel, 2002), we would expect to find more male- than female-perpetrated situational couple violence, even if situational couple violence is gender-symmetric in terms of prevalence in intact marriages (Kimmel, 2002). Feminist theory leads us to expect that marriages characterised by intimate partner violence, which is primarily male-perpetrated they argue, are highly likely to end in divorce. Situational couple violence, though approximately gender balanced in terms of prevalence, is not gender balanced regarding fear and injury; consequences of violence that are also probable to end in divorce (Stets & Straus, 1990).
It was also found that female victims may themselves feel culpable or blameworthy for their partners’ violent behaviour rather than blaming the alcohol, as one professional states: “They [victims] partially feel responsible so they precipitate it [violence] as a victim, particularly if they might have been drinking.” This quote coincides with the literature review in that clinicians may presume that the male is invariably the perpetrator of violence when this is not always the case because, arguably, sometimes the ‘victim’ may precipitate or be culpable for the violence (Amir, 1971), especially when consuming alcohol and subsequently fuelling the violence (Miller & Carroll, 2006). This conception of victim-blame emerged from Hentig (1948). Hentig carried out the very first study on crime victims, wherein he tried to comprehend criminality by examining the victim rather than the perpetrator. Hentig explored what role the victim plays in her/his victimisation; in particular, victim’s interaction with the offender, victim’s contribution to his/hers own victimisation, and victim’s characteristics. By doing so, Hentig developed the notion of victim precipitation whereby victims are blamed for their own victimisation. Amir (1971) adopted Hentig’s approach and subsequently blamed victims of violence for their victimisation. The problem with this approach is that it takes away blame from the attacker and puts it onto the victim instead, completely neglecting the victim’s needs. Moreover, the notion of victim precipitation implicitly leave us with the view that victims of intimate partner violence are unlikely to be male, as the notion respectively conceptualises female victims and male offenders, categorising them in gender-specific ways. The conception is also empirically flawed.
However, a different professional solely believes that men are the offenders and women are the victims: “Men’s power over women and … it’s not women’s fault, but women don’t see it like that when they are amidst the suffering.” This same professional goes on to say, “Feminism and obviously they have quite a lot to say on domestic violence, they obviously say that it is about male supremacy and female subordination,” which agrees with the feminist theory critically discussed earlier in the literature review. Radical feminist theory ultimately argues that intimate partner violence is about men executing power and control over the female victim (Radford & Stanko, 1996). One professional challenges feminist theory because it only talks about women as the victims, not men:
‘Because domestic violence has been explained by feminists as an issue to do with…men’s control and power over women, that makes it very difficult then for feminists to theorize why women will then batter men, so that is a tricky dilemma for feminists to admit that in the first place…So the feminist literature has often side-stepped that radical feminist literature would only look at men’s violence to women, so there’s an even small pot of knowledge and research about women’s violence to men. The growing literature on masculinity theorizing is giving us some hints of knowledge about…men’s reluctance to admit to, particularly that [intimate partner violence] kind of crime because it usually is the other way around.’ (Professional 8)
This quote correlates with the literature review because research evidence suggests that feminist research heavily ignores male victims of intimate partner violence (Walklate, 2004). Further, research proves that women do commit intimate partner violence against men and men do also commit intimate partner violence against other men (Walklate, 2004).
Finally, what remains problematic is working with and supporting these violent men who hide behind alcohol as a ‘shield’ or blame the alcohol for their violent behaviour. This argument is evidenced by one professional, who is a social worker and deals with violent men who do not take responsibility for their violent conduct by blaming alcohol:
‘What I would also say, is guys who hide behind alcohol, they’re not taking any responsibility – there’s no culpability for their behaviour because they’re hiding behind alcohol, and it’s very difficult to work with a guy who’s trying to, not justify, but reason his behaviour with regards to alcohol. You can’t necessarily do work with a perpetrator of domestic violence who just sees himself as only behaving that way [behaving violent] when on alcohol.’ (Professional 1)
This shows that alcohol may be used as an excuse for violent behaviour and may trigger arguments that fuel violence, but it is usually not a direct cause of violent behaviour. Therefore, it does not help to fully explain intimate partner violence in terms of having other variables involved. To fill this gap in knowledge, further empirical research is required to explore gender, race, and sexuality dimensions when understanding alcohol and intimate partner violence. The quote above also shows that state agencies find it difficult to work with men who blame their violent behaviour on alcohol, so the offenders are not taking full responsibility of their actions. Consequently, interventions that include police and health care workers to identify and deal appropriately with violent offenders become problematic (Abama & Kwaja, 2009), in that such intervention may be based on unsuitable or inappropriate models of intervention for the intimate partner violence (Miller & Carroll, 2006). For example, giving separate referrals for the male and female, or it may be presumed that the male is invariably the perpetrator of violence when this is not always the case (Miller & Carroll, 2006). Additionally, the offender using alcohol as an ‘excuse’ for violent behaviour can lead to unemployment, as suggested by Stallones and Xiang (2003). This is because, they argue, loss of work may result in increased drinking, which may lead to heavy drinking; in turn, the offender may continue to deny that he has a ‘drink problem’ so may continue to excuse his violent behaviour. Moreover, economic resources for alcohol use could have otherwise been used for seeking health care, so this may lead to self-care or delay in seeking health care because of the lack of economic resources available, resulting in loss of income due to lost wages, and, sometimes, resulting in the premature death of sole wage earners in a household (Bonu et al., 2004).
Implications for Policy and Practice
There is some evidence that shows a variety of effective interventions to decrease the violence linked with alcohol, ranging from universal strategies to decrease the accessibility of alcohol, to small scale, community-based projects to change environmental conditions (NDRI, 2007). Regardless whether ‘qualified’ or ‘unqualified’ staff will be undertaking much of this intervention, it is vital that all intervention targets key fundamental risk factors for alcohol-related violence. This research has found several implications of the use of alcohol as an ‘excuse’ for intimate partner violence for practice.
From interviewing the professionals, it was found that early intervention is needed when working with violent men who use alcohol as an ‘excuse’ for committing intimate partner violence, with a view to prevention. It was also found that, it is important for practice that there is an increased awareness and knowledge by practitioners about the intricacy and underlying issues of pragmatically working with such offenders, who do not take full responsibility for their actions. Allowing violent men to blame alcohol for their violent behaviour enables them to feel as if they have ‘got away with it’. The professionals in my study highlighted the need for practitioners, who deal with such offenders, to become aware of the risks surrounding this phenomenon; gender differences; the degrees of dependency affected by different substances; to target multiple contributing factors rather than any single cause of alcohol-related violence; and to encourage and facilitate the reporting of the violence, as many victims feel that the offender is only violent when they are intoxicated.
The primary data also suggests that effective work with such offenders and victims together is more impactful for the offender to desist using alcohol as an excuse for their violent behaviour. This process helps the offender to take full responsibility for their actions, while the victim conveys the impact that the violence has had on their relationship and the trauma that it has caused, highlighting the importance of supervision and the provision of supportive working environments that give time and space to work effectively and consistently with the offender and victim. This research also considers the approach of motivational interviewing and its efficacy in working with such offenders and the victims who are affected by the violence. This type of interviewing technique used by practitioners helps to encourage the offender to change their violent behaviour and to seek treatment that will enable the offenders to not use alcohol as an excuse for their violent behaviour. If the offender becomes aware that the alcohol does not fundamentally cause his violence, the violence and abuse should stop following successful treatment. This technique helps to stress that alcohol does not cause violence.
This research coincides with the practice implications argued in Holder, Treno and Levy (2005). They demonstrate, as also suggested by this research, that in order to effectively reduce violence that is alcohol-related, prevention efforts must aim to influence the relationships between the environments and individuals wherein alcohol is consumed (Holder, Treno & Levy, 2005). This research found that much intimate partner violence happens in the couples’ homes, so it is vital to examine the environmental conditions (such as, cultural, physical, and social factors) and to encourage safer drinking within the household wherein violence occurs. There is the need for a range of partners in the community to work together to set appropriate standards for the consumption of alcohol and set informal and formal controls on the misuse of alcohol and the violence that results (Graham & Homel, 2008). Practice intervention aimed at decreasing the alcohol-related violence and negative effects of alcohol in communities must attempt to tackle the factors that facilitate alcohol abuse and the violence that results. It is important that the evidence gathered in this research is used to inform policy and practice and is customised to suit local problems and circumstances. Further evaluation and research of violence prevention programs is required to further our understanding of what works in reducing violence carried out by men who blame the violence on alcohol and why, and to recognise vital lessons for successful implementation.
Conclusion
The aim of this study was to understand the experiences of professionals dealing with alcohol and intimate partner violence, as there has been a lack of social research on the relationship between alcohol and intimate partner violence in the North East region within the United Kingdom in contrast to the USA. This study aimed to identify the key trends in the relationship between intimate partner violence and the consumption of alcohol by providing empirical data. The data presented herein only give an insight into the discourses of professionals in relation to this topic rather than the views of the victims and offenders themselves. The work has identified the omnipresent use of alcohol as an excuse for intimate partner violence. Whilst present in the existing literature, it is wholly underrepresented in importance. The theme of alcohol being used by both the perpetrator and the victim to excuse what would be considered completely unacceptable behaviour runs throughout this research. The thematic analysis suggests that victims see their drunken abuser as distinctly different from their sober living partner rather than acknowledging the greater problems, which is an issue that warrants a great deal more research. On balance, confirming the findings of Johnson (2006; 2008), the data suggests that intimate partner violence is essentially, although not exclusively, male-perpetrated. It was also found that women are more likely to excuse violent behaviour when their partner is intoxicated.
This research suggests that alcohol is not causal with regards to intimate partner violence, but it does offer the perpetrator a ‘shield’, which allows them to identify themselves not as a ‘violent abuser’ but rather as someone whose drinking can lead them to do things they otherwise would not do. The data suggests that, when alcohol is involved, intimate partner violence is more frequent and more injurious violence, and has debilitating psychological consequences for the victims. The alcohol allows the victim to avoid the reality of being in an abusive relationship. This type of deception is extremely dangerous, as it allows for the denial of a problem, therefore, preventing the acknowledgement for the need to address it. In short, alcohol, whilst not causal, allows for the denial, excuse, and continuation of violent relationships.
More understanding of the effect of alcohol on people with different propensities toward aggressive behaviour is required. Individual dissimilarities in anger, hostility, agreeableness, impulsiveness, and alcohol expectancies are seen as vital. It is still unclear why and how people with these characteristics seem to be more likely to carry out violent behaviour when drunk. A fuller understanding of these processes will help inform more effective approaches to treating and preventing alcohol-involved intimate partner violence.
References
Abama, E. and Kwaja, C. M. A. (2009) Violence against Women in Nigeria: How the Millennium Development Goals Addresses the Challenge, The Journal of Pan African Studies, 3(3): 23-34.
Amir, M. (1971) Patterns in forcible rape. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Bonu, S., Rani, M., Jha, P., Peters, D. H. and Nguyen, S. N. (2004) Household tobacco and alcohol use, and child health: an exploratory study from India, Health policy, 70(1): 67-83.
Borkowski, M., Murch, M. and Walker, V. (1983) Marital Violence: The Community Response. London: Tavistock Publications.
Bryman, A. (2012) Social Research Methods. 4th edition. USA: Oxford University Press.
Bryson, V. (1992) Feminist Political Theory: An Introduction. London: Macmillan.
Byrne, B. (2004) ‘Qualitative Interviewing’, in C. Seale (Ed.) Researching Society & Culture. 2nd edition. London: Sage.
Croall, H. (1998) Crime and Society in Britain. Essex: Addison Wesley Longman.
Eckhardt, C. (2007) Effects of Alcohol Intoxication on Anger Experience and Expression Among Partner Assaultive Men, Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 75(1): 61-71.
Fleming, J. (1979) Stopping Wife Abuse. New York: Anchor Press.
Fontana, A. and Frey, J. H. (2000) ‘The interview’ in N. K. Denzin and Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.) Handbook of Qualitative Research. 2nd edition. London: Sage.
Freeman, M. D. A. (1979) Violence in the Home. Saxon House: Teakfield Limited.
Glaser, B. G. and Strauss, A. L. (1967) The Discovery of Grounded Theory: Strategies for Qualitative Research. Chicago: Aldine.
Gomm, R. (2004) Social Research Methodology: A critical introduction. Hampshire: Palgrave Macmillan.
Graham, K. and Homel, R. (2008) Raising the bar: preventing aggression in and around bars, pubs and clubs. Cullompton: Willan.
Hentig, V. (1948) The criminal and his victim: studies in the sociobiology of crime. New Haven: Yale University Press.
Holder, H., Treno, A. and Levy, D. (2005) ‘Community systems and ecologies of drug and alcohol related problems’ in T. Stockwell et al. (Eds.) Preventing harmful substance use: the evidence base for policy and practice. England: John Wiley and Sons: 149-161.
Home Office (2005) Domestic Violence and Abuse. Available at: https://www.gov.uk/domestic-violence-and-abuse (Accessed: 09th April, 2013).
Jansen, H. A. F. M., Watts, C., Ellsberg, M., Heise, L. and Garcia-Moreno, C. (2004) Interviewer training in the WHO Multi-country Study on Women’s Health and Domestic Violence Against Women, Violence against Women, 10(7): 831-849.
Johnson, M. P. (1999) Two types of violence against women in the American family: Identifying patriarchal terrorism and common couple violence. Paper presented at the National Council on Family Relations annual meeting, Irvine, CA.
Johnson, M. P. (2006) ‘Gendered communication and intimate partner violence’ in B. J. Dow & J. T. Wood (Eds.). The Sage Handbook of Gender and Communication. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage: 71-87.
Johnson, M. P. (2007) ‘Domestic violence: The intersection of gender and control’ in L. L. O’Toole, J. R. Schiffman and M. K. Edwards (Eds.) Gender Violence: Interdisciplinary Perspectives. 2nd edition. New York: New York University Press: 257-268.
Johnson, M. P. (2008) A Typology of Domestic Violence: Intimate Terrorism, Violent Resistance, and Situational Couple Violence. Boston: Northeastern University Press.
Johnson, M. P. and Ferraro, K. J. (2000) Research on domestic violence in the 1990s: Making distinctions, Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62(4): 948-963.
Kimmel, M. S. (2002) ‘Gender symmetry’ in domestic violence: A substantive and methodological research review, Violence Against Women, 8(11): 1332-1363.
Lee, R. M. (1993) Doing Research on Sensitive Topics. London: Sage.
Leonard, K. E. and Quigley, B. M. (1999) Drinking and marital aggression in newlyweds: An event-based analysis of drinking and the occurrence of husband marital aggression, Journal of Studies on Alcohol, 60: 537–545.
Leonard, K. E., Collins, R. L. and Quigley, B. M. (2003) Alcohol consumption and the occurrence and severity of aggression: An event-based analysis of male to male barroom violence, Aggressive Behaviour, 29: 346–365.
Loseke, D., Gelles, R. J. and Cavanaugh, M. M. (2005) Current Controversies on Family Violence. London: SAGE Publications.
Mahapatra, N. (2012) South Asian Women in the US and their Experience of Domestic Violence, Journal of Family Violence, 27: 381-390.
Miller, W. R. and Carroll, K. M. (2006) Rethinking Substance Abuse: What the Science Shows, and What We Should do About it. New York: The Guildford Press.
National Drug Research Institute (NDRI) (2007) Restrictions on the sale and supply of alcohol: evidence and outcomes. Perth: National Drug Research Institute, Curtin University of Technology.
O’Leary, D. K. and Schumacher, J. A. (2003) The association between Alcohol Use and Intimate Partner Violence: Linear Effect, Threshold Effect, or Both?, Addictive Behaviours, 28(9): 1575-1585.
Pence, E. and Paymar, M. (1993) Education groups for men who batter. London: Springer.
Radford, J. and Stanko, E. A. (1996) ‘Violence against Women and Children: the Contradictions of Crime Control under Patriarchy’ in M. Hester, L. Kelly and J. Radford (Eds.) Women, Violence and Male Power. Buckingham: Open University Press.
Reiner, R. (1992) The Politics of the Police. 2nd Edition. London: Harvester Wheatsheaf.
Stallones, L. and Xiang, H. (2003) Alcohol consumption patterns and work-related injuries among Colorad farm residents, American Journal of Preventive Medicine, 25(1): 25-30.
Stets, J. E. & Straus, M. A. (1990) ‘Gender differences in reporting marital violence and its medical and psychological consequences’ in M. A. Straus & R. J. Gelles (Eds.). Physical Violence in American Families: Risk Factors and Adaptation to Violence in 8,145 Families. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Press: 151-165.
Walklate, S. (2004) Gender, Crime and Criminal Justice (2nd edition). USA and Canada: Willan Publishing.
Yin, R. K. (2003) Case study research: Design and methods (3rd edition). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.
Community Justice Files 35
Articles
Nathan Monk
Published | 15/03/2015 |
Type | Article |
Author(s) | Dr Nick Flynn, Ross Little |
Corresponding Authors | |
DOA | |
DOI |
Offender Rehabilitation Act, 2014
On 1 February 2015 the Offender Rehabilitation Act 2014 (ORA) came into force, meaning an extension of supervision to 45,000 prisoners per year released from short prison sentences of less than twelve months. Any person whose offence was committed on or after 1st February, and who is sentenced to a custodial term of more than one day, will in the future receive at least 12 months of supervision in the community. The Act, passed in March 2014, accompanies the Transforming Rehabilitation programme.
The full details of the legislation can be read here: http://www.legislation.gov.uk/ukpga/2014/11/contents/enacted
The Announcement of the legislation by the Ministry of Justice can be found here: https://www.gov.uk/government/news/post-prison-support-extended-to-45000-offenders
One in, one out: New interim Chief Inspector of Probation announced
On 2 February 2015, in a written statement made by the Lord Chancellor and Secretary of State for Justice, Chris Grayling, it was announced that the Chief Inspector of Probation, Paul McDowell, had resigned. Given that Mr McDowell’s wife is employed in a senior management position by Sodexo, a multi-national services and facilities corporation which, in partnership with the crime reduction charity Nacro, has been awarded six of the 21 new probation contracts, Chris Grayling announced:
I have considered carefully all of the potential mechanisms and systems that could be introduced and used to manage any actual or perceived conflict of interest. However Mr McDowell has decided that, in the circumstances, he will resign.
The statement of Mr McDowell’s resignation can be read here: http://www.parliament.uk/documents/commons-vote-office/February%202015/2nd%20February/2.JUSTICE-probation.pdf
Following Mr McDowell’s resignation, on 16 February 2015 it was announced that the new interim Chief Inspector of Probation is to be the former Chief Executive of London Probation Trust, Paul Wilson. Mr Wilson is to lead the probation inspectorate while a permanent Chief Inspector is being recruited.
The Ministry of Justice announcement of Mr Wilson’s appointment can be found here: https://www.gov.uk/government/news/interim-chief-inspector-of-probation-announced
Evaluation of the “day one mandation to the Work Programme”
The Department for Work and Pensions has recently published an evaluation of the “day one mandation to the Work Programme” initiative. The initiative requires people leaving prison who are claiming Job Seekers Allowance (JSA) to join the Work Programme immediately on release.
The compulsory nature of the initiative is due to the recognition that people leaving prison face considerable barriers to employment and need greater support to find work. The apparent advantage of the programme for prisoners is that they can make an advance JSA claim from up to five weeks before release and can receive additional support to help them find work.
The evaluation included 57 interviews with prisoners and a telephone survey with 1,013 prison leaver JSA claimants. Almost three in 10 (28%) claimants surveyed had all or part of their benefit stopped because they failed in some way to follow the requirements of the programme. Those respondents aged under 25 years were more likely (31%) to have all of their benefit stopped compared to those aged 25 and over.
A copy of the evaluation, published in December 2014, can be found at: https://www.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/399519/rr897-evaluation-day-one-mandation.pdf
New figures on prison drug seizures
According to figures provided in response to a parliamentary question, the Ministry of Justice has disclosed that the number of illegal drug seizures in prisons in England and Wales is rising. There were almost 4,500 instances of illegal substances taken from prisoners in 2013-14 compared to just fewer than 3,800 in 2010-11.
The disclosure accompanies a press release by the Ministry of Justice published on 25 January 2015, announcing a crackdown on so called ‘legal highs’ in prisons. Prison governors have received guidance from the Ministry of Justice setting out new measures available to deal with these New Psychoactive Substances (NPS) including closed visits, additional time in prison and removal of privileges. Legal highs such as ‘spice’ are synthetic drugs containing chemical compounds which produce similar effects to illegal drugs.
The Ministry of Justice press release, New Crackdown on Dangerous Legal Highs in Prison can be found here: https://www.gov.uk/government/news/new-crackdown-on-dangerous-legal-highs-inprison
Prisoners to make kit for the army
Prisoners will make sandbags, fence posts, hydraulic jacks and other support products for Britain’s armed forces after a new ten-year service level agreement was signed by ministers. The agreement to supply army equipment between the Ministry of Justice and the Ministry of Defence builds on a six month trial and was signed at HMP Coldingley.
The announcement by the Ministry of Justice can be read at: https://www.gov.uk/government/news/prisoners-to-supply-armed-forces-with-kit
The costs of prison staff redundancies
In a speech to the Prison Reform Trust delivered on 26 January 2015, the Secretary of State for Justice, Chris Grayling, stated that the Ministry of Justice was in the process of recruiting a further 1,700 prison officers. Three weeks later, in response to a Parliamentary Question asked by Shadow Justice Minister Jenny Chapman, the Prisons Minister Andrew Selous revealed that in 2013 the Ministry of Justice spent more than £56 million on redundancy payments to prison staff in England and Wales.
The transcript of Chris Grayling’s speech to the Prison Reform Trust is available at: http://www.prisonreformtrust.org.uk/PressPolicy/News/vw/1/ItemID/257
The response by Andrew Selous to the question by Jenny Chapman can be found in Hansard at: http://www.publications.parliament.uk/pa/cm201415/cmhansrd/chan81.pdf
And it was also reported on the BBC News website at: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-31525794
European Court of Human Rights ruling on UK prisoner voting rights
In a press release published on 10th February 2015, the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) has announced its latest ruling against Britain for refusing to grant prisoners the right to vote. The judgment that it was illegal to deny 1,015 prisoners the vote between 2009 and 2011 follows the ruling by the ECHR in October 2005, in the case of Hirst v the UK, that refusing prisoners the right to vote is a violation of article 3 of protocol 1 to the European convention on human rights, which relates to the right to free elections. The Council of Europe is due to return to the issue in September 2015 after the Coalition Government in defiance of the ruling officially ruled out changing the law. However, despite the ruling, the ECHR has declined to order that any of 1,015 claimants are entitled to compensation or their legal costs. The court ruled that no compensation was due because the case for compensation brought by the prisoners was nearly identical to other prisoner voting rights cases in which the court has never awarded compensation and laid out clear protocol to that effect.
The ECHR press release, Remaining legacy prisoner voting cases: ECHR finds violation of the right to vote but awards no compensation or legal costs, is available here: http://hudoc.echr.coe.int/sites/eng-press/pages/search.aspx?i=003-5010996-6151237#{“itemid”:[“003-5010996-6151237”]}
And a fact sheet published by the ECHR on prisoners’ right to vote is available here: http://www.echr.coe.int/Documents/FS_Prisoners_vote_ENG.pdf
MP’s Select Committee statement on the detention of mentally ill people in police cells
In its report on policing and mental health published on 6 February, the Home Affairs Select Committee has said that the prevalence of people with mental health illness in the criminal justice system is a continuing scandal. The detention of children, in particular, must stop immediately. The committee’s main findings include:
• The Mental Health Act 1983 should be amended so that police cells are no longer stated as a place of safety for those detained under section 136.
• It is clear that too many NHS Clinical Commissioning Groups (CCGs) are failing in their duty to provide enough health-based places of safety that are available 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and are adequately staffed. CCGs must not only acknowledge local levels of demand and commission suitable health-based places of safety; they must also design local backup policies to deal with situations where places are occupied. CCGs need to provide more “places of safety” in NHS hospitals so the police are not forced into filling the gap.
• The police need to make sure they use their powers in relation to mental health correctly, to reduce the numbers detained and so reduce pressure on both the police and the NHS. Frontline staff need to learn from one another, and each organisation needs to understand the priorities of others.
• Early indications of the effectiveness of the Street Triage scheme are very positive, it is important that the scheme is fully appraised. We recommend that the Government give a clear commitment that funding will be made available for schemes which have been proven to be cost-effective.
The full report, Policing and Mental Health, can be read at: http://www.publications.parliament.uk/pa/cm201415/cmselect/cmhaff/202/202.pdf
The main findings of the report and Chair’s comments can be read at: http://www.parliament.uk/business/committees/committees-a-z/commons-select/homeaffairs-committee/news/150206-mental-health-rpt-pubn/
The contribution of Youth Offending Teams to the work of the Troubled Families Programme in England
Work relating to the Troubled Families programme represents a “sizable and growing profile of Youth Offending Team (YOT) workloads” according to this joint inspection by the HM Inspectorate of Probation, the Care Quality Commission, HM Inspectorate of Constabulary and Ofsted. The inspection was commissioned by the Criminal Justice Chief Inspectors’ Group and visited six local authority areas, drawing on group interviews with staff relating to 107 cases and interviews with 30 service users. The report found considerable differences in the “scale and ambition” of the programmes across local authority areas and also that uncertainties about the lead professional role limited the ability of staff to deliver co-ordinated packages of services. YOT practitioners needed to be clear about the priorities and outcomes being addressed for families in a multi-agency context.
The full report, The Contribution of Youth Offending Teams to the work of the Troubled Families Programme in England, a Joint Inspection by: HM Inspectorate of Probation, Care Quality Commission, HM Inspectorate of Constabulary, Ofsted is available from HM Inspectorate of Probation at: http://www.justiceinspectorates.gov.uk/cjji/wpcontent/uploads/sites/441/2015/01/Troubled-Families1.pdf
Improving efficiency of criminal justice proceedings
Following a review published in January 2015 of the justice system led by Sir Brian Leveson which inter alia included proposals for expanding the use of video technology to allow suspects to appear remotely in court from prisons and police stations, the Civil Justice Council has called for the creation of an online court for low value civil claims of up to £25,000. In the introduction to the report, published in February 2015, Professor Richard Susskind, IT Adviser to the Lord Chief Justice writes:
We predict two benefits would flow from HM Online Court – an increase in access to justice (a more affordable and user-friendly service) and substantial savings in the cost of the court system. On-line Dispute Resolution (ODR) is not science fiction… We argue that to improve access to justice, it is vital not just to have better methods of resolving disputes but also to have effective ways of avoiding and containing disputes. ODR can help here.
The Review of Efficiency in Criminal Proceedings by The Rt Hon Sir Brian Leveson is available at: http://www.judiciary.gov.uk/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/review-of-efficiency-incriminal-proceedings-20151.pdf
The Civil Justice Council report, Online Dispute Resolution for Low Value Civil Claims by the Online Dispute Resolution Advisory Group is available at: http://www.judiciary.gov.uk/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/Online-Dispute-Resolution-Final-Web-Version1.pdf
The Coalition Years
A report on The Coalition Years has been produced by the Centre for Crime and Justice Studies. The report seeks to explain criminal justice developments across the United Kingdom over the five years between 2010 and 2015 and considers the challenges facing an incoming United Kingdom government after the May 2015 General Election. All three United Kingdom criminal justice jurisdictions are covered: England and Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland. The Coalition Years focuses on three areas of criminal justice reform: policing, punishment and legal aid. It seeks to articulate the political nature of criminal justice reform, shaped as it is by a complex array of economic, cultural, historical and ideological influences. The report supplements the four UK Justice Policy Review reports published over the previous five years.
A copy of the full report can be found at: http://www.crimeandjustice.org.uk/sites/crimeandjustice.org.uk/files/ThecoalitionyearsFullreportMarch2015.pdf
Ending drug prohibition with a hangover?
Articles
Nathan Monk
Published | 15/03/2015 |
Type | Article |
Author(s) | Julian Buchanan |
Corresponding Authors | Julian Buchanan, Associate Professor, Institute of Criminology, Victoria University of Wellington |
DOA | |
DOI |
After three decades of working in the drugs field (as a probation officer, researcher and academic) and seeing little change in a drug policy largely driven by prohibition, it is encouraging to finally see the emergence of a paradigm shift, towards drug decriminalisation and regulation. Globally, there are a growing number of countries, agencies and individuals exploring drug law reform, albeit, largely related to cannabis. These are critical and important times, but after the debacle of prohibition, we should be careful not to get over-excited and simply lurch uncritically towards any reform that’s proposed. We need to be rigorous and well informed when considering and assessing appropriate drug policy change, otherwise we will fail to address the fundamental problem – the decades of damage caused by drug policy abuse. In this paper I shall clarify why drug law reform change is urgently needed, explore lessons from drug policy changes in other countries, highlight risks inherent within drug reform, and establish some guiding principles for change.
1980s: From abstinence to harm reduction
In the 1980s, working as a probation office in Bootle, Merseyside, I was confronted by two particular social problems; mass unemployment, and a heroin ‘epidemic’. While in the past, illicit drug use had been largely associated with enhancing life-experiences, such as attending parties, music festivals or socialising at university, the 1980s wave of heroin use was confined largely to discarded working class youth who used the drug to create a ‘euphoric oblivion’, to block out depressing life experiences (Buchanan & Wyke, 1997). Not surprisingly, this heroin epidemic spread rapidly across the most deprived areas of England, those hit hardest by de-industrialisation and mass unemployment (Dorn & South, 1987). The received wisdom in the early 1980s surrounding problematic drug use was clear and robust; all illegal drug use was inherently dangerous, would lead to addiction, destroy families and communities, and ultimately result in early death and tragedy. The national response to this drug epidemic was to rally communities and agencies together against this new threat, and to utilise every means possible to get young people off (illegal) drugs. This ‘crusade’ against the drugs ‘enemy’ resulted in a proliferation of new community groups and organisations, often with the phrase ‘against’ drugs in their title.
As a new probation officer, I acquiesced and embraced this misguided dominant discourse, and did my utmost to coerce people to stop taking illegal drugs. After pressurising and persuading heroin using offenders who were awaiting sentence in Court, to give up illegal drugs, I’d often take them in my car to a detoxification centre or a drug rehabilitation centre, far away from their home, only to see them back on the streets of Bootle, Merseyside, a few weeks later using heroin. I soon realised, not only was a coerced abstinence not working; it was actually part of the problem, they were now more entrenched, and further alienated following my unsuccessful attempt to force them off drugs. Supporting the crusade to rid them of illegal drugs did more harm than good. In particular the approach didn’t meet people where they were at; it didn’t assess or listen to what they were ready, able or wanting to do; instead, I was pursuing my agenda, not their agenda (Buchanan, 1991). In so doing, I was setting them up to fail, and this created further conflict and relationship breakdown between them, their family, friends and importantly, the criminal justice system, which saw the offender breaking their promise to become drug free. By imposing an unrealistic, and probably unachievable expectation upon the offender, I had inadvertently encouraged deceit that made the person more damaged, isolated and at risk.
Learning from this experience, when the Merseyside Probation Service appointed me as a drug specialist in 1986, I helped pioneer and promote a risk reduction approach (Buchanan & Wyke, 1987) that was subsequently adopted as Merseyside Probation Service drug policy. Risk reduction (now widely referred to as harm reduction) doesn’t exclude abstinence: if somebody is ready, able and wanting to pursue abstinence, they’ll be supported to do so, but risk reduction engages and fully supports people in a pragmatic, non-judgmental manner, while they continue to use drugs. Risk reduction is dedicated to reducing the risks (legal, social, psychological and medical) to the person using drugs, their friends, family and wider community, and doesn’t require a commitment to abstinence (Newcombe, 1992).
By the mid/late 1980s the dominant anti-illicit drug discourse in the UK that demanded ‘drug’ free lives and communities, was largely replaced by a harm reduction strategy. This new approach engaged more people in treatment and was more successful at reducing harms (O’Hare et al., 1992). However, it is important to be clear, the motivation for this paradigm shift away from abstinence, was essentially a pragmatic move to protect the wider community from the new and greater threat of HIV/AIDS, posed by the drug injecting community, through unprotected sex and sharing of needles, the paradigm shift didn’t reflect a policy change towards accommodating illegal drug use (ACMD, 1988).
1998 – The empire strikes back
The United Nations General Assembly Special Session (UNGASS) gathered in New York in 1998 to launch a new ten-year global drug strategy, accompanied with the slogan: ‘A drug free world – we can do it’ (Blickman, 2008; UNDCP, 1998). This far-fetched and questionable aspiration was an overt attempt to reclaim and re-assert abstinence. In my view a ‘drug’ free world is as deluded, naïve and useless, as a 10 year plan for a crime-free world. Worse, while the notion of a crime free world has merit, the notion of a drug free world is bizarre. It is a vague ideologically driven crusade; one that is irrational, contradictory, unachievable and undesirable, and as I will argue, drug policy driven by prohibition has caused considerably more harm, than the drugs it purports to protect us from (Rolles et al., 2012).
Soon after the 1998 UN conference, the UK appointed Keith Halliwell, an ex-Chief Constable, as a new US-styled Drugs Tsar, and he too launched a ten-year drug strategy. This appointment marked a shift in the UK away from a health approach to the ‘drug’ problem, and criminal justice took centre stage; it also marked a significant alignment towards abstinence-based US drug policy, and extended the war on drugs (Buchanan, 2010). By this time, I was working at Liverpool University and carrying out qualitative research that explored the lived experience of people on Merseyside struggling with chronic problematic drug use. In an article entitled ‘A war on drugs, a war on drug users’, Lee Young and I, argued a prohibitionist, tough law enforcement drug policy that meted out severe punishment for drug violations, was not only an attack on illicit drugs, but more importantly, it was an attack on the people who used illicit drugs (Buchanan & Young, 2000). It was clear, the drug war in the UK focused on working class communities, and specifically young people whose futures had been ravaged by de-industrialisation, disinvestment, poverty, and major social, economic and political changes (MacGregor, 1989). Bootle, where I worked as a probation officer and drugs worker, was a tragic example of a community blighted by socio-economic change, which resulted in a generation of unskilled youth, whose labour was rendered worthless and useless. Young people in Bootle were unable to follow in their parents’ and grandparents’ footsteps in Bootle, suddenly couldn’t find work, and wondered if they’d ever work. In the 1980s it seemed that almost overnight a new section of society appeared – the discarded working class whose labour was surplus to capitalist requirements and who would be punished and scapegoated for being unable to secure work (Dorn & South, 1988; Rojek, Peacock & Collins, 1989).
This group of unskilled youth, lacking qualifications, unable to secure a stake in society, couldn’t legitimately access employment, struggled to find their own accommodation, were unable to afford consumer goods, and inevitably many drifted into a drug-centred lifestyle which offered a daily routine and network to escape their grim daily reality. Labelled ‘addicts’ and ‘smack-heads’ they were presented as an enemy within the community, and the cause of community despair. As Chomsky (1998) explains, this demonisation served a political purpose:
‘The Drug War is an effort to stimulate fear of dangerous people from who we have to protect ourselves. It is also, a direct form of control of what are called “dangerous classes,” those superfluous people who don’t really have a function contributing to profit-making and wealth. They have to be somehow taken care of.’
Historically, drug prohibition has almost exclusively targeted the discarded working class, and enmeshed with racist thinking and racist targeting (Alexander, 2013; Nadelmann, 2014). In the late 1800s Chinese people living in London who used opium (rather than alcohol) were portrayed as a threat to morality, a people who used their drug in ‘opium dens’, a stark contrast to British attitudes towards the opium using ‘Lakeland Poets’ (Keats, Coleridge, Wordsworth and De Quincey) earlier that century. In 1914 the New York Times headline ‘Negro Coke Fiends’ presented Black African Americans who use cocaine as peculiarly dangerous criminals, suffering insane addiction which equipped them with an ability to withstand bullets (Williams, 1914). More recently the disparities between crack and powder cocaine sentencing in the USA, even though it is virtually the same drug – have resulted in concerns about racist drug laws. To receive the ten-year mandatory minimum prison sentence for possession of powder cocaine (predominantly used by the white population) the threshold was set at 1000 grams, whereas the threshold for crystallised cocaine (predominantly used by the Black population) was set much lower at 10 grams. Belatedly acknowledging these gross disparities, the US Fair Sentences Act 2010 eventually adjusted the threshold level, although the present 18:1 ratio is still unfairly balanced (Washington Post, 2010).
Prohibition
Drug prohibition has caused global harm and great cost to society, arguably far greater than the harm arising directly from illicit drugs (Rolles et al., 2012). Further, prohibition has been ineffective and has failed to demonstrate any significant reduction in drug use, drug supply, or drug harm (GCDP, 2011 & 2014). Since President Nixon declared the ‘war on drugs’ in 1971 (see Fig. 1), the US have witnessed a sudden and rapid increase towards mass incarceration (Alexander, 2013), with vast numbers held in prison for drug-defined crimes (possession, supply, cultivation etc.), (Kerrigan, 2012). A similar pattern of spiralling prison populations can be observed in most Anglophile countries. In New Zealand around 1 in 20 recorded crimes are drug-defined offences, and around 11% of the prison population are imprisoned for drug-defined crimes (NZ Police, 2014).
Figure 1
In the UK, the Misuse of Drugs Act 1971 launched the drug wars, when it mandated a life sentence can be imposed on anyone supplying outlawed drugs such as LSD, MagicMushrooms or Ecstasy (Class A). In addition to the severe criminal sanctions, there have been growing civil anxieties concerning what can and what can’t be consumed, and this has resulted in a proliferation of drug testing technologies (urine, blood, hair, saliva, sweat and even sewage), that encourage parents to drug test their teenage children; companies to test their employees; colleges to test their students; even house buyers are being ncourage to purchase a drug test survey to ensure the house is ‘clean’ from illicit drugs. In New Zealand, like some US states, people on benefit seeking employment are routinely drug tested; if they repeatedly test positive for illicit drugs, (often cannabis because it can be traced weeks even months after use), their benefit is stopped. Like private prisons, drug testing has become a major growth industry that has a vested interest in supporting the drug war by offering new technologies, for example the New Zealand Drug Abstinence Court, attaches a ‘sobriety bracelet’ to the ankle of offenders to ensure they remain abstinent from alcohol.
Such is the seemingly limitless expansion in drug testing business opportunities to support the drug wars, in May 2013 the EMCDDA (2013) launched the inaugural international conference for detecting illicit drugs in wastewater. Maybe the next business opportunity will involve a delegate from a wastewater drug testing company approaching a university, offering to provide a wastewater analysis of the Halls of Residence, combined with regular random testing of students in lecture theatres. In a competitive environment the university could then boast they have certified ‘drug’ free students and a drug free educational environment – alleviating fears of worried parents, sponsors and future employers. The wide circulation of some media fuelled panic, a shock-horror story involving illegal drugs and students on campus should help stimulate demand.
The illogical war on illicit drugs is no longer confined to law enforcement agencies; it’s become a civil war, one that has invaded our place of work, our schools, colleges, communities and homes. In its extreme, US militarised SWAT teams carry out dawn raids on homes for alleged possession of illicit drugs. In such raids pet dogs have been killed, and in some cases people (Agorist, 2014). In the UK and Australia children have been stripped searched by police looking for drugs, in the USA one man was forced to undergo three enemas, a colonoscopy, an X-ray and several cavity searches, simply because he appeared to clench his buttocks (Sullum, 2013). In the UK every 58 seconds somebody is stopped and searched in England and Wales for banned drugs (Eastwood, Shiner & Bear, 2013). Perversely, most criminal convictions for possession and supply involve cannabis – a substance less damaging than alcohol and tobacco (Nutt et al., 2010). A criminal conviction for drugs is much more damaging on life opportunities than the drugs they purport to be protecting us from. While many politicians and US Presidents may admit to using illicit drugs, they were never convicted, whereas 1.5 million people in the UK have criminal records for drug possession – usually the working class, the poor and the black and minority ethnic groups (Release, 2014).
In the US and the UK, it is the black population who are more likely to be stopped, searched, arrested and prosecuted even though their use of banned drugs is similar if not less than the white population. In the UK the chances of being stopped for drugs if you are black is 45 people per 1,000 whereas if you are white it’s 7 people per 1,000 (Eastwood, Shiner & Bear, 2013). Once convicted of a drug-defined crime, life opportunities diminish in terms of employment, relationships, travel abroad, insurance, mortgages, housing and membership and participation in wider society.
The increased dangers from prohibiting drugs
Banning drugs actually makes drug taking more dangerous. Let me illustrate. Before this lecture folk were enjoying a few glasses of the particularly dangerous drug ethanol (served as red or white wine). Because the drug is legal and regulated nobody was concerned it might be mixed with dangerous substances such as bleach. When the bottles of wine were being poured, everyone anticipated the alcohol content to be around 11-15%, some may have checked the precise alcohol volume, which is always written on the label. Some may have confined themselves to one glass of wine, because they are driving home later. Those who did have just one glass were not anxiously thinking: ‘I just hope this isn’t 90% alcohol, otherwise I have just drunk the equivalent of eight glasses of wine in 15 minutes’. That never crossed your mind, because when you take a legal drug, it is quality controlled, you know what you’re taking. Knowing the purity and strength of a drug, and knowing that it’s not mixed with poisons or toxins is vital, and it is a privilege afforded to people who use legal drugs. The greatest danger with illegal drugs is not the substance itself, but it is not knowing its content or strength. Contamination and uncertain strength are significant causes of overdose and death. This risk is exacerbated considerably by illegality. The same issues would apply to alcohol, tobacco and caffeine if they could only be produced and sold via the illegal market. Prohibition also means that consumers must engage in a criminal underworld inevitably leading to some level of secrecy and anxiety. The stigma and serious social and legal consequences of being ‘found out’ using a banned drug, means most users are reluctant to seek help if a problem occurred. The exposure to the criminal underworld could also lead to opportunities to engage in other criminal activities. Buying, using and sharing illegal drugs places the person at risk of severe criminal sanctions including imprisonment (Buchanan, 2008).
Maintaining the drugs lie
There is no pharmacological basis to separate the legal drugs alcohol, tobacco, sugar or caffeine from the illegal drugs such as heroin, cannabis, LSD or cocaine (Gossop, 2013). There is no rational basis in terms of risk and harm either, given that alcohol and tobacco are more dangerous than most illegal drugs; indeed, alcohol is the most dangerous substance of all (Nutt et al., 2010). One way of masking this hypocrisy has been to socially construct legal drugs as non-drugs. This irrational, unscientific and untenable position has been sustained by a regular cycle of drug panics, and shock-horror campaigns centred upon the banned substances. These media fuelled drug war propaganda stories create shocking and frightening narratives based, at best, upon loose association, rather than any causal connections. For example: ‘reefer madness’ asserted that cannabis use led to psychosis, violence, weird orgies, wild parties and unleashed passion; ‘crack babies’ asserted that crack cocaine taken during pregnancy led to mentally damaged babies that would struggle to function normally; methamphetamine was portrayed as the most addictive drug in the world; it was claimed ‘bath salts’ caused a man to eat the face of another man; and most recently krokodil was presented as a flesh eating drug. There is no established causal relationship between any of these drugs and the alleged outcome. There is a need to look beyond the substance, and consider instead look more closely at the set (person), and the setting (their environment) (Dalgarno & Shewan, 2005).
Lies, myths and misinformation that are frequently used in an attempt to validate what is effectively a drug apartheid, not only mislead people (Buchanan 2014), they waste vast resources, damage lives and detract from the real issues. I recall in the 1980s, some health professionals and social workers were telling pregnant women that the use of heroin or methadone could permanently damage the unborn child. The same was alleged about crack cocaine. Neither is true. While the attention and concern was directed at the outlawed drugs, relatively little attention was given to a legal drug frequently taken during pregnancy that can cause permanent damage to the unborn child – alcohol (BMA, 2007).
Tough enforcement increases violence
The drug apartheid secured and maintained through tough prohibition fuels violent crime. It’s not difficult to understand that when people who have a very lucrative business and excellent market demand are suddenly removed from the community and incarcerated, other business entrepreneurs are likely to respond to meet the demand. Disrupting the once steady market by removing a key business leader makes this underground market more volatile and turf wars become more likely. When a business is forced to operate underground there are no legitimate means for resolving disputes for producers, suppliers or users. A systematic review of the effect of law enforcement upon drug market violence found that areas with tougher enforcement are associated with increased violence (Werb et al., 2011).
Looking beyond the negative impact upon communities, attempts to eradicate drugsupplying countries has destabilised entire countries, particularly Afghanistan and Mexico. The illicit drug trade is a billion dollar business managed by gangsters and militarised cartels, and in poverty stricken countries poor farmers with little legitimate means to earn a living wage inevitably grow coca plants and opium poppies as a means of economic survival (Redmond, 2013).
Stuck in a time warp
Figure 2
A photograph of delegates signing the UN Single Convention on Narcotics back in 1961 (Fig. 2) typically reflects middle-aged men, and in that period most were tobacco smokers, caffeine users and people who enjoyed a drink. The convention brought together different reports and thinking from the 1950s, into a new ‘single’ convention (Bewley-Taylor, 2013) and effectively established a global ‘drug apartheid’ privileging certain drugs which were excluded and promoted, while seeking to prevent and punish possession and supply of other drugs. ‘Narcotics’ as they were called, were not widely understood, nor indeed were they a particular social problem at that time. The Convention incorrectly asserts that cannabis is particularly harmful and has extremely limited medical or therapeutic value (Gupta, 2013). It’s hard to fathom how the guidelines enshrined in a culturally and scientifically out-dated document more than fifty years old continues to inform drug law and policy in the twenty-first century. Imagine if law, policy and practice on race, gender, sexuality and disability remained rooted in 1950s knowledge, culture and beliefs here in the UK. Thankfully, attitudes, values and knowledge have improved considerably for these groups since the 1950s, and while discrimination in respect of race, gender, sexuality and disability still exists, laws and institutional practices can no longer be seen to discriminate; sadly we cannot say the same for people who use illegal ‘drugs’, where thinking, culture and beliefs have been stuck in a time warp.
According to the UN Convention the definition of a drug is any substance listed in the convention – there is no scientific, no pharmacological or no rational basis to explain why alcohol, tobacco or caffeine would be separate from cannabis, LSD, cocaine or heroin. Article 1.1 (j) of the UN Single Convention 1961 defines a drug as ‘any of the substances in Schedules I and II, whether natural or synthetic.’ This invites the circular argument that drugs are illegal because they’re dangerous, and the evidence that they’re dangerous is that they are illegal (Buchanan, 2014). As Bancroft explains the notion of drugs ‘are social categories constructed because as a political community we have come to treat some substances differently from others, depending upon who uses them, how and for what?’ (2009:8)
So what we have embraced and what we are continuing to uphold is a social construction of drugs rooted in 1950s knowledge and culture that is devoid of scientific evidence to support it. Yet we’ve allowed the global and national drug controls that have resulted in significant harm to people, infringed human rights, and led to abuses by the state particularly for poor people, indigenous people and people of colour. During this fifty-year period of drug wars BigPharma and multi-national corporations have exploited the drugs apartheid to promote and distribute legal drugs. Tobacco, alcohol and caffeine have become culturally embedded as important signifiers of relaxation, leisure, pleasure, occasion and celebration.
The times they are a-changing
There is a growing mainstream momentum that is questioning the drugs apartheid regime. For example, the high profile Global Commission on Drug Policy established in 2011, comprising of an eclectic mix of conservative international figures from across the globe including; former Presidents and Prime Ministers from countries such as Switzerland, Colombia, Mexico, Brazil and Greece, along with others such as Kofi Annan and Richard Branson, have questioned the effectiveness of drug prohibition in terms of having little or no impact on supply and demand. The GCDP have realised too, the harm being done by this drug war, and the GCDP have produced a number of highly critical reports calling for an end to prohibition (GCDP, 2011; 2014). They argue that the global war on prohibited drugs has failed with devastating consequences for individuals, communities and societies around the world, and that fundamental reforms in national and global drug control policy are urgently needed.
Dr Sanjay Gupta, a US neurosurgeon who was a drug advisor to Hilary Clinton and a White House Fellow, like a lot of mainstream conservative people, uncritically accepted the guidance in the UN Single Convention on cannabis. For years he was strongly opposed to decriminalisation of cannabis, but he’s recently done a complete U-turn and delivered a public apology:
‘I apologize because I didn’t look hard enough, until now. I didn’t look far enough…I mistakenly believed the Drug Enforcement Agency listed marijuana as a schedule 1 substance because of sound scientific proof. Surely, they must have quality reasoning as to why marijuana is in the category of the most dangerous drugs that have “no accepted medicinal use and a high potential for abuse.” They didn’t have the science to support that claim, and I now know that when it comes to marijuana neither of those things are true. It doesn’t have a high potential for abuse, and there are very legitimate medical applications.’ (Gupta, 2013:1)
In my view, drug policy reform must be informed and shaped by two important guiding principles: to promote harm reduction and to protect human rights. However, to begin the process of reform we will have to first acknowledge and address the flawed and misleading social construction of ‘drugs’, otherwise we risk building drug reform on very shaky foundations. Four false categories of drugs need amalgamating. Alongside prohibited narcotics, now widely referred to as ‘drugs’, there are three other categories: -non-drugs; medications; and legal highs. Current drugs such as caffeine, alcohol and tobacco (and probably sugar), cannot be granted non-drug status – they are addictive and sometime dangerous, psychoactive drugs, that people use for pleasure. People smoking a cigar or enjoying a glass of whisky cannot be afforded some privileged status that allows them to continue to isolate and label someone who uses cannabis or cocaine as a ‘druggie’, while they also regularly use dangerous drugs.
Perversely, our privileged drugs; caffeine, alcohol and tobacco, all have, to various degrees, resulted in deaths for some heavy users, particularly alcohol and tobacco. The other privileged drugs; legal medications sold by BigPharma have an ever expanding market to help with ailments, enhance sex life, provide more energy, help you relax more, sleep etc. – which are similar reasons why people use prohibited drugs. However, the side effects, damage and indeed death by overdose caused by promoted pharmaceutical drugs is a growing concern, especially in the USA where in 2012 there were more deaths caused by overdose than road traffic accident among people aged 25 to 64 years old (CDCP, 2014).
New psychoactive substances sometimes called ‘legal highs’ are arguably a by-product of tough prohibition and ever-invasive drug testing regimes. These drugs tend to have the appearance of natural substances, but they’re new designer chemicals with limited knowledge of their long-term consequences. They’ve become popular partly because they carry no risk of criminal conviction and are unlikely to be detected in any random drug test (Perrone, Helgesen & Fischer, 2013). One of the good things about a drug like alcohol or cannabis is that it has been used for thousands of years so the consequences and risks are largely well known. So this arbitrary, incoherent and misleading four-part typology of drug; non-drug (drugs); medication; and legal high has demonised, prohibited and isolated one particular set of substances, that we have been told to call ‘drugs’. All four groups should be merged into a single category of drugs. We all use drugs, and the vast majority of people also use drugs for leisure, pleasure and recreation. We must move away from the idea that people who use drugs that are currently prohibited, are somehow a different type of people, with different motivations for using, and taking drugs that are inherently more dangerous; it’s simply not true. However, there is vested interest from BigPharma and the multi-national companies who produce and supply caffeine, alcohol and tobacco products, to resist change and maintain the status quo, unless, they can adopt one of the presently prohibited substances, which they can produce, package, distribute, market and sell – such as cannabis. While it would be good to see cannabis possession no longer subject to criminalisation and available for purchase, awarding this drug privileged status while maintaining the drugs apartheid, does little to address the fundamental issues.
Through prohibition, alcohol has been culturally accommodated, indeed promoted, as synonymous with expressions of pleasure, leisure, celebration and occasion. The drug features prominently across a range of greeting cards for: anniversaries; exam success; birthdays; New Year, weddings; baptisms; etc., and nobody seems offended, seeing this dangerous drug promoted on the front of greeting cards. You may have seen the converted mini-car promoting the sale of a stimulant drug – Red Bull, a similar drug to cocaine and amphetamine but much weaker in strength. The Red Bull advertising promotes imagery of energy, an adrenaline rush and confidence – which is what users expect when they take any legal or illegal stimulant drug, but it is somehow entirely acceptable for caffeine products.
In a drug apartheid there is no outcry with greeting cards promoting use of the depressant drug alcohol, or a mini car adapted to look like a rocket to promote the use of a stimulant drug caffeine, but it would be considered abhorrent if any greeting card displayed a line of cocaine on a mirror, or the a mini-car was adapted to display not a can of Red Bull but a cannabis spliff. I’m not here arguing for the promotion of cocaine or cannabis, rather, I am challenging the illogical position of the cultural accommodation of some drugs and the cultural rejection of other drugs. We have to reassess our social construction of ‘drugs’, and we need an inclusive framework.
Figure 3
If we want a more accurate assessment of drugs, not rooted in a 1950s cultural construct, research done by Profession Nutt et al. (2010) provides a scientifically based rational assessment of the harm posed by different drugs, with an overall rating combining potential harm to the user and to others. The graph displays a league table of harm with carry a maximum penalty of life imprisonment for supply (see Fig. 3).
Like other reports and research (Runciman, 1999; HCTC, 2006; Nutt et al., 2007) this graph illustrates how woefully out-dated the MDA 1971 classification system is, an Act clearly no longer fit for purpose. The chart indicates the most dangerous drug is alcohol, tobacco is 6th and some Class A drugs are right near the end of the list. However, Nutt et al.’s, work offers a starting point for scientifically informed discussion, rather than a definitive blueprint, because the impact of any substance will vary from person to person depending upon their bio-psycho-social makeup, and the legal and social environment of any drug use (Gossop, 2013). Decriminalisation and eventually legal regulations of all drugs would undoubtedly make drugs currently illegal much safer (Rolles et al., 2012).
Lessons from Drug Reform Changes
Portugal: Following a difficult period with high levels of problematic drug use in 2001 Portugal decriminalised all personal possession of drugs. Since removing the threat of criminalisation and punishment for personal possession, there has been no significant difference concerning levels of illicit drug use compared to other neighbouring European countries, which suggests that law enforcement has little, or no impact on levels of drug usage. Given the cost, the time and resources devoted to personal drug possession by law enforcement agencies it raises important questions about the purpose of prohibition.
Research by Hughes and Stevens (2010) found small increases reported in illicit drug use amongst older adults, while a slight decrease in use among younger adults. More importantly than drug use, problematic drug use reduced, as did the burden of processing drug offenders in the criminal justice system, infectious diseases and there was an increased uptake of drug treatment. While these are positive results for Portugal they are not necessarily transferrable but offer encouragement for other countries considering decriminalisation.
United Kingdom: Following reports by the Police Foundation (2000) and the Advisory Council on the Misuse of Drugs (ACMD, 2002), the UK government decided to downgrade cannabis from Class B to Class C, however, implementation was delayed until January 2004 while the government increased the maximum sentences available for supply of all Class C drugs from 5 years to 14 years imprisonment. There was considerable media concern during the run up period, that effectively decriminalising cannabis would result in greater use among young people and addiction and mental health problems. As a direct result of political pressure rather than scientific evidence, cannabis was reclassified as Class B in January 2008 (Buchanan, 2010). What is interesting to note here, is the level of cannabis use during the period that it was downgraded. The British Crime Survey indicated that between 1996 and 2002/3 the use of cannabis amongst 16-24 years olds remained fairly constant at around 17% (for past month use), varying by only 1.4% across the entire 7-year period. However, during the four years that cannabis was downgraded (2004-2008), use by young people subsequently dropped every year from 14.1% to 9.7%, providing a further indication that lowering the sanctions for possession, does not appear to result in any significant increase in drug use (Hoare & Flatley, 2008).
The Netherlands effectively decriminalised cannabis use in 1976, making cannabis widely available in coffee shops across Amsterdam. By comparison cannabis possession in the USA is a serious offence. Given these stark differences in legal context, research compared access to, and use of, cannabis in Amsterdam and San Francisco (Reinarman, Cohen & Kaal, 2004) and what they found is that despite the liberal approach to cannabis in Amsterdam, patterns of use were similar to San Francisco at every level: age of onset, age of regular use and age of maximum use; so having coffee shops doesn’t appear to have any detrimental effect. A UNICEF report (2013) explored cannabis use amongst adolescents and found rates in USA 22% compared to 17% in the Netherlands and 10% in Portugal. Some argue that cannabis is a gateway drug, and increased availability is likely to result in greater problematic drug use, but countries like the Netherlands and Portugal tend to show lower proportions of problematic drug users than countries like the UK and USA.
Switzerland: While there may be a willingness to accommodate cannabis, some suggest that illicit drugs such as heroin are inherently dangerous and inevitably lead to death and destruction if taken daily or heavily. However, numerous well-researched heroin assisted treatment (HAT) programmes have demonstrated clearly this is not the case (EMCDDA, 2012). The Swiss, realising their terrible mistake of ghettoising injecting drug users in 1987 by geographically confining their illegal activity to Platzspitz (aka Needle) Park, Zurich and the carnage that it produced, did a U-turn and in 1994 adopted the British System by prescribing free clean pharmaceutical heroin to those addicted, and further provided them with a medically supervised clean room where they could inject. The results from this Zurich pilot were a clear success with significant improvements in health, social and crime. In 2008 in a nationwide referendum 68% voted in favour or rolling out the scheme permanently across the Switzerland (BBC, 2008).
These case studies from Portugal, Switzerland, the UK and the Netherlands illustrate the ineffectiveness of prohibition and give some confidence for countries to step away from criminalisation and experiment with some type of drug reform of depenalisation, decriminalisation, legalisation and/or regulation.
Discussion
After decades of frustration with the untenable archaic criminalisation of particular drugs, while other more dangerous legal drugs go under the radar, some degree of drug reform now appears likely. It is widely accepted we need to manage our relationship with drugs differently, and the prohibition of particular drugs, has not only been totally ineffective, but it has caused more damage than the drugs the state was purported to be protecting us from. While various options to criminalisation are available, some leading reform advocates such as Transform are calling for an alliance under the broad umbrella of drug ‘regulation’ as the way forward, however, the devil is in the detail and regulation can mean many things.
The so-called ‘world-leading’ New Zealand model of drug regulation (Psychoactive Substances Act 2013) provides a regulatory framework for ‘legal highs’. Under this model, instead of all substances being legal to possess (unless specifically banned under the NZ Misuse of Drugs Act 1975), the PSA2013 has introduced a blanket ban on every new psychoactive drug. In New Zealand only state-approved psychoactive drugs can be consumed, and possession of any ‘unregulated’ psychoactive drug is an offence that carries a financial penalty, while supply of any unregulated drug carries a two year prison sentence. To prevent unregulated drugs New Zealand police have been issued with new warrantless powers if they suspect the premises may be supplying them. What this ‘regulatory’ model has done is effectively widen the net of prohibition, state control and punishment in New Zealand to include every new psychoactive drug. This raises further important questions regarding who and how a psychoactive drug is defined. This New Zealand model of regulation seems more like new prohibition.
The main argument for ‘regulation’ appears to be that we need to get the drug market out of the hands of the criminal underworld. Taking illicit drugs out of the hands of gangsters is a laudable aim, however, most damage suffered by people who use illicit drugs isn’t caused by the criminal underworld, as I’ve illustrated, most damage is caused by criminalisation, policing and tough enforcement. In the everyday world of daily life, the absence of strict state regulation to govern activities of growing, making, buying, selling and exchanging goods and services, doesn’t inevitably drift into the hands of dangerous criminals who manage business with guns, knives and baseball bats. However, if a lucrative business is subject to fierce prohibition, extreme law enforcement measures and severe penalties, it will inevitably drift towards a hostile, secretive and violent environment within which the underground business must operate.
The notion that decriminalisation, rather than regulation, as an initial first step would result in the illegal drug market entirely managed by gangsters is exaggerated. If decriminalisation was prioritised rather than strict state control (regulation) then cannabis, which is the drug most frequently used illicit drug, and the one that occupies most law enforcement time, would largely be home grown, shared and exchanged by friends, local growers and societies. Other illicit drugs not easily ‘home grown’ could, in a more relaxed period of transition, be purchased via websites similar to Silk Road, that operate a consumer rating system, not dissimilar to Amazon or eBay. Not perfect, not properly regulated, but this consumer friendly environment can hardly be described as a threatening underground market governed by violence, exploitation and gangsters. The present criminal sub-culture that surrounds the illicit drug market has largely been created by law enforcement and prohibition, rather than any inevitable or preferred pattern of operation by producers, buyers and sellers of drugs, and has little to do with the nature of the product on sale.
Decriminalisation as a first step towards living with drugs would importantly protect users (particularly the poor, indigenous people and people of colour who are targeted by law enforcement agencies), from police stop and searches, drug related arrests, penalties and incarceration. Drug users would be free from the serious and lifelong damage of a drug conviction. This would provide more time to look critically and carefully at models of drug market regulation. The history of regulation involving legal drugs alcohol and tobacco has not exactly inspired confidence in state control. The recent significant increase in drug overdose deaths in the USA due largely to regulated painkilling drugs is a reminder of the serious problems that can arise – despite state regulation.
After thirty years of working in the drugs field I am convinced that drug policy abuse poses the greatest threat to our young people, not problematic drug use, and whatever regulatory model is eventually proposed, the non-negotiable priority must be to ensure personal possession is never an offence, civil or criminal. The individual must have sovereign right over their own body, to consume what they wish, without fear, threat or punishment from the state, – protecting the human right to choose what they do with their body. Regulations should concentrate on market related issues such as production, distribution, sale and advertising, and they should be used to protect the rights and freedom of the individual.
A drug reform campaign designed to end prohibition and replace it with regulation would in my view be a grave mistake, if regulation provides the state with new powers to punish personal possession of unregulated substances as it has in New Zealand. Hard fought campaigns for drug law change should not be squandered. For forty years the UK Misuse of Drugs Act 1971 has remained largely impervious to any positive reform, and this illustrates just how difficult it might be to make positive amendments to any new flawed drug legislation. Whereas, punitive orientated amendments to drug laws have historically been much easier to introduce, so considerable caution should therefore be exercised before supporting any new drug laws.
Figure 4
Conclusion
This war between drugs (legal vs. illegal) maintained by a relentless, oppressive and robust global drug apartheid, must collapse, like slavery, the Berlin wall and the South African racial apartheid. The global human and evironmental damage caused by the war on prohibited drugs is comparable to these terrible historic injustices, and similarly to these atrocities, the insidious legacy of propaganda, lies and prejudice will take many decades to dispel. The legal drug industry profiteers realise support from the law enforcement regime is in its final chapter, and we observe a strategic shift and reconfiguration taking place to secure new civil controls through abstinence, drug testing and a disease model of addiction. As drug reformers we need to push for revolutionary reform at this critical period of time, and demand a rational, evidenced based approach to drug policy with human rights and harm reduction at the centre (see Fig 4). The campaign to end drug prohibition should not be dissipated by an invitation to cannabis to join the elite substances on the privileged and powerful side of the drug apartheid, nor by the offer to replace prohibition with strict state regulation that incorporates punishment for unapproved possession. No, tweaking or transforming the present corrupt model rooted in racism, self-interest and misinformation is not an option.
The first and foremost change to reduce harm and restore human rights is to prioritise the decriminalisation of personal possession of all substances. Once the human right to possess and consume what an individual chooses with their own body is restored, without fear, threat or punishment from the state, then the complex and tricky road of developing appropriate drug market regulations can begin, but there are a number of potential threats to derail this much needed drug policy change as illustrated in the graphic above. Drug policy change is now possible and indeed likely, but we need to make sure the opportunity is not squandered or hijacked by drug reform entrepreneurs, because it could be another four decades before the next opportunity arises.
References
Advisory Council on the Misuse of Drugs (1988) AIDS and Drug Misuse, Part 1. HMSO, London.
Advisory Council on the Misuse of Drugs (2002) The classification of cannabis under the Misuse of Drugs Act 1971. HMSO, London.
Agorist, M. (2014) 10 Facts about The SWATification Of America That Everyone Should Know, The Free Thought Project, June 2014 http://thefreethoughtproject.com/10- facts-swatification-america/#OQUqbFpLUmHPAXh7.99
Alexander, M. (2013) The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness. New Press.
BBC (2008) Swiss Approve prescription Heroin, BBC Live Breakfast News, Sunday 30http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/7757050.stm th November 2008
Bewley-Talyor, D. R. (2013) Towards revision of the UN drug control conventions: Harnessing like-mindedness, International Journal of Drug Policy 24 (2013) 60– 68
http://www.undrugcontrol.info/en/weblog/item/2029-refreshing-costas-memory?pop=1&tmpl=component&print=1%22%20target=%22_hplink. Blickman, T. (2008) Refreshing Costa’s memory, TNI Drugs & Democracy,
British Medical Association (2007) Fetal alcohol spectrum disorders, A guide for healthcare professionals. BMA, London.
Buchanan, J. (1991) Enabling Dependent Drug Users – A Cognitive Behavioural Assessment, Practice 5(1): 34-46.
Buchanan, J. (2008) ‘Understanding and engaging with problematic substance use’, in S. Green, E. Lancaster & S. Feasey (Eds.) Addressing Offending Behaviour – Context, Practice, Values: 246-264.
Buchanan, J. (2010) Drug policy under New Labour, 1997-2010: Prolonging the war on drugs, Probation Journal Special Edition, 57(3): 250-262.
Buchanan, J. (2014) The Drug Policy Sham – 58 Myths, Lies and Misconceptions supporting the Drug Apartheid, https://julianbuchanan.wordpress.com/blogs-2/
Buchanan, J. and Wyke, G. (1987) Drug Abuse, Probation Practice and the Specialist Worker, Probation Journal, 34(4): 123-126.
Buchanan, J. and Young, L. (2000) The War on Drugs – A War on Drug Users, Drugs: Education, Prevention Policy 7(4): 409-422.
Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (2014) Web-based Injury Statistics Query and Reporting System (WISQARS) [online]. Available from URL: http://www.cdc.gov/injury/wisqars/fatal.html.
Chomsky, N. (1998) The Drug War Industrial Complex, Noam Chomsky interviewed by John Veit, High Times, http://www.chomsky.info/interviews/199804–.htm
Dalgarno, P. and Shewan, D. (2005) Reducing the Risks of Drug Use: The case for set and setting, Addiction Research and Theory, 13(3): 259-265.
Dorn, N., and South, N. (1987). A Land fit for heroin? Drug policies, prevention and practice. Macmillan, Education.
Eastwood, N., Shiner, M. and Bear, D. (2013) The Numbers in Black and White: ethnic disparities in the policing and prosecution of drug offences in England and Wales. Release, London.
European Monitoring Centre for Drugs and Drug Addiction (2013) Testing the waters: first international multidisciplinary conference on detecting illicit drugs in wastewater,
http://www.emcdda.europa.eu/events/2013/testing-the-waters.
European Monitoring Centre for Drugs and Drug Addiction (2012) EMCDDA INSIGHTS No. 11: New heroin-assisted treatment: Recent evidence and current practices of supervised injectable heroin treatment in Europe and beyond. Luxembourg: EMCDDA.
Global Commission on Drug Policy (2011) The War on Drugs and HIV/AIDS: The Report of the Global Commission on Drug Policy, June 2011, http://www.globalcommissionondrugs.org.
Global Commission on Drug Policy (2014) Taking Control: Pathways to Policies That Work, September, 2014, http://www.globalcommissionondrugs.org.
Gossop, M. (2013) Living with drugs, 7th edition, Ashgate, London
Gupta, S. (2013) ‘Why I changed my mind on weed’, CNN International http://edition.cnn.com/2013/08/08/health/gupta-changed-mind-marijuana/index.html?hpt=hp_c4
Hoare, J. and Flatley, J. (2008) Drug Misuse Declared: Findings from the 2007/08 British Crime Survey. Home Office Statistical Bulletin 13/08. London.
House of Commons Science and Technology Committee (2006) Drug Classification: Making a Hash of It? 5th Report of Session 2005–6, HC1031. www.publications.parliament.uk/pa/cm200506/cmselect/cmsctech/1031/1031.pdf.
Hughes, C. E. and Stevens, A. (2010) What can we learn from the Portuguese decriminalization of illicit drugs? British Journal of Criminology, 50(6): 999-1022.
Kerrigan, S. (2012) The Prison System Expands at Frightening Pace Following Declaration of War on Drugs, Activist Post, Tuesday, October 30, 2012, http://www.activistpost.com/2012/10/the-prison-system-runs-amok-expands-at.html.
MacGregor, S. (1989) Drugs and British Society: Responses to a Social Problem in the Eighties. Routledge.
Nadelmann, E. (2014) Why we need to end the War on Drugs, TED talk, http://www.ted.com/talks/ethan_nadelmann_why_we_need_to_end_the_war_on_dr ugs/transcript?language=en.
New Zealand Police (2014) New Zealand Crime Statistics 2013, Illicit Drug Offences http://www.police.govt.nz/sites/default/files/publications/crime-stats-national- 20131231.pdf.
Newcombe, R. (1992) ‘The reduction of drug-related harm: A conceptual framework for theory, practice and research’, in P. A. O’Hare, R. Newcombe, A. Matthews, E. C. Buning and E. Drucker (Eds.) The Reduction of Drug-Related Harm. London: Routledge: 1-14.
Nutt, D., King, L. A. and Philips, L. D. (2010) Drug harms in the UK: a multicriteria decision analysis. The Lancet, 376(9752): 1558–1565.
Nutt, D., King, L. A., Saulsbury, W. and Blakemore, C. (2007) Development of a Rational Scale to Assess the Harm of Drugs of Potential Misuse, The Lancet, 369(9566): 1047- 1053.
O’Hare, P. A., Newcombe, R., Matthews, A., Buning, E. C. and Drucker, E. (1992) The Reduction of Drug Related Harm. Routledge.
Perrone, D., Helgesen, R. D. and Fischer, R. G. (2013) United States drug prohibition and legal highs: How drug testing may lead cannabis users to Spice, Drugs: education, prevention, and policy, 20(3): 216-224.
Redmond, H. (2013) The political economy of Mexico’s drug war, International Socialist Review, Issue 90, http://isreview.org/issue/90/political-economy-mexicos-drug-war.
Reinerman, C., Cohen, P. D. A. and Kaal, H. L. (2004) The Limited Relevance of Drug Policy: Cannabis in Amsterdam and in San Francisco, American Journal of Public Health, 94(5): 836–842.
Release (2014) Press release – Over 80 high-profile individuals and organisations call on the pm to reform UK drug policy http://www.release.org.uk/press-release-support-dont-punish.
Rojek, C., Peacock, G. and Collins, S. (1989) The Haunt of Misery: Essays in Caring and Helping. London & New York: Routledge.
Rolles, S., Murkin, G., Powell, M., Kushlick, D. and Slater, J. (2012) The Alternative World Drugs Report: Counting the Costs of the War on Drugs, Transform Drug Policy Foundation, http://countthecosts.org.
Runciman, B. (1999) Drugs and the Law, Report of the Independent Inquiry into the Misuse of Drugs Act 1971, London Police Foundation.
Sullum, J. (2013) The War on Drugs Hits a New Low with the Police Probe of David Eckert’s Guts, Forbes, http://www.forbes.com/sites/jacobsullum/2013/11/15/the-war-on-drugs-hits-a-new-low-with-the-police-probe-of-david-eckerts-guts/.
UNICEF (2013) Child Well-being in Rich Countries, http://www.unicef-irc.org/Report-Card- 11/.
United Nations International Drug Control Program (UNDCP) (1998) General Assembly Twentieth Special Session 8-10 June 1998. http://www.un.org/ga/20special/
Washington Post (2010) The Fair Sentencing Act corrects a long-time wrong in cocaine cases. Editorial, (2010, August 3) The Washington Post. Retrieved from http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/08/02/AR2010080204360.html
Werb, D., Rowell, G., Guyatt, G., Kerr, T., Montaner, J. and Wood, E. (2011) Effect of drug law enforcement on drug market violence: A systematic review, International Journal of Drug Policy, 22(2): 87-94.
Williams, E. H. (1914) Negro Cocaine “Fiends” new southern menace, New York Times, Sunday February 8, 1914, Shaffer Library of Drug Policy, http://www.druglibrary.org/schaffer/history/negro_cocaine_fiends.htm.
Notes
Based on the 11th Annual Community Justice Portal Lecture delivered at Sheffield Hallam University on 22nd May 2014. Julian Buchanan worked for Liverpool Social Services for six years before joining the Merseyside Probation Service as a qualified probation officer in 1982. In the mid-1980s as a drug specialist he pioneered a ‘risk reduction’ approach to substance misuse. During his 15 years with the probation service he held a variety of positions: probation officer; training officer; practice teacher and middle manager. In 1995 he joined Liverpool University as lecturer and programme leader for the Home Office sponsored probation qualification. In 1997 he was promoted to Senior Lecturer at University of Central Lancashire where he set up a Masters degree in Substance Misuse. In 2000 he joined Glyndwr University (Wales) where he established criminal justice and criminology BA and MA programmes, and set up the Social Inclusion Research Unit. In 2011 he joined the Institute of Criminology at Victoria University of Wellington. As an academic Julian has continued to examine issues that confronted him as a practitioner working in the community: the role of probation; effective community sentences; managing and responding to problem drug use; and understanding and tackling discrimination and social exclusion. He has researched and published widely on these issues including around forty contributions in book chapters and journal articles. In 2009 he co-edited ‘Effective Practice in Health, Social Care and Criminal Justice: A partnership approach’, now in its second edition published by Open University Press. He has been external examiner for programmes at Trinity College, Dublin and Liverpool John Moores University, and is a specialist assessor for numerous journals including: International Journal of Drug Policy, Criminology and Criminal Justice Journal, British Journal of Community Justice, Probation Journal and the Journal of Social Policy.
Editorial: Taking Stock of Youth Justice
Articles
Nathan Monk
The call for this special issue ‘Taking Stock of Youth Justice’ went out before the recent general election in the UK, when a range of possibilities for the future of youth justice could be seen in the policies of different political parties. Now the results are in and we have a Conservative government which will continue with plans begun whilst in coalition. Greater freedom of contact has been given to youth offending teams and antisocial behaviour orders have been abolished, but these have been replaced with a range of alternative options in the Anti-social Behaviour, Crime and Policing Act 2014. Plans to build a large secure college for young offenders have been abandoned following opposition from the House of Lords, though the government spokesperson said the decision was due to the falling numbers of young people in prison. The £5.56 million reportedly wasted (BBC News, 2015) on this venture could have been better spent on improving the existing provision, such as to reduce the number of deaths of young people in custody, as recommended by the Harris Review (2015).
As is acknowledged widely, the number of young offenders convicted by the courts has fallen dramatically over the last few years, as has the number of young offenders in custody. The government unsurprisingly attributes that to its own policies, but a range of recent social and economic policies will impact disproportionately on young people, increasing their risk of involvement in criminal activity. Reductions in police numbers, and particularly in stop and search, may reduce this likelihood, but for those who do appear before the courts there is the introduction of criminal court charges. These will not affect youth courts, but they have raised concern amongst sentencers and lawyers about people’s ability to pay (BBC News, 2015b). The media seem little interested in the fall in youth crime and continue to sensationalise particular and uncommon serious crimes by young people, such as the tragic murder of school teacher Ann Maguire.
Interestingly, around the same time as this call for papers, the government were also thinking about what next for youth justice and commissioned a review of the work of youth offending teams (Deloitte, 2015), perhaps the most important finding of which is:
This finding is not new, and although poverty is a well-known ‘risk factor’ it has continually been left out of policy frameworks to reduce crime as it is too difficult to address. Crime and troublesome behaviour are presented as individual problems to be addressed by the targeting of particular individuals. An example of this is the ‘Troubled Families’ agenda, which the government is in the process of expanding because of its success (Cameron, 2015). At the same time the government continues to seek austerity cuts, and the YJB is proposing to cut grants to youth offending teams by 10.6% (see CJ Files, this issue), in the context of which the Deloitte observation that ‘a reduction in funding is not expected to result in reduced performance.’ (p7) does not bode well.
This call for papers has generated a valuable mix of complementary pieces, many of which contain similar themes. One of these is the importance of young people’s engagement and participation in criminal justice processes. This is particularly heartening as it has been a core value of my own work for many years, starting with the evaluation of pilot youth offending teams in 1998, one aspect of which was exploring young people’s perspectives of the recently introduced final warnings (Hine, 2007). Such work highlights how children and young people frequently understand their behaviour differently to adults, and it is important to understand their perspective. The papers here call for
engagement in the courts process (Atherton), something well known to be little understood by many young people (Smith & Fleming, 2011), and in the policy process as well as in practice and service delivery (Little; Case et al.; Creaney & Hopkins Burke). There are suggestions for imaginative ways to involve young people in research (Robinson) which could usefully be considered and applied by policy makers and practitioners. It should however be remembered that children and young people frequently need particular kinds of support and organisational structures to be able to participate fully (Fleming et al., 2014). The criminal justice arena is fraught with difficulties when
attempting to do both what is best for the young person and what is best to redress the crime and its consequences. What many of us call for is a change of attitude and practice, to see children and young people as part of the solution, not just the problem. A focus on the positive is basic parenting guidance for good behaviour (Sutton, undated), so maybe it is time for us to start from the position of seeing young people’s behaviour as a means of dealing with their often difficult circumstances rather than primarily an act of wrong doing.
Our contributors
It is with great pleasure that we begin this issue with the winning entry of the 2014 Brian Williams Memorial Prize, Sarah Louise Holt. Sarah’s work documents an excellent and original piece of research: it takes a clear and focussed idea grounded in the literature and translates this into a manageable research project. It is methodologically comprehensive within the constraints of its context, and offers a thoughtful analysis of the results. The work investigated the types of behaviours that primary school educational staff observed in children known or suspected to experience domestic violence at home.
The work highlights an important issue about the responsibilities and roles of teachers, a thought which could usefully be extended to a range of professionals who work with children. Although this paper did not make the link we know that the responses to domestic violence which are observed about these children are linked to an increased probability of negative outcomes in life, including likelihood of involvement in the criminal justice system.
Education is the topic of our next paper by Ross Little, but in a very different context – a young offender institution. The paper draws on work undertaken by the Howard League for Penal Reform as part of their innovative U R Boss project. This project was designed to involve young people with experience of the criminal justice system in the campaigning work of the organisation, including the identification of the focus of the campaigns (Fleming et al., 2014). The study in this paper explored young people’s views and experiences of education in the YOI, raising important questions about the availability, organisation and quality of education for young prisoners.
From the culture of the prison and how this impacts on the educational experience of young people we move to the culture of youth offending teams and workers. Drawing on her doctoral work Rachel Morris explores the reasons why practitioners do the job that they do and suggests that this can impact on key elements of YOT practice impacting young people’s experiences and outcomes. She found that most YOT workers want to make a difference to young people’s lives and enjoy the challenge of working with risk within the flexible environment of the youth offending team. However she goes on to question the value of such flexibility and ambiguity.
The next paper by Anne Robinson supports the growing use of narrative methods with young people in criminological research, but argues the discipline has much to learn from other fields where a wider range of participative methodologies have been employed with children and young people. In the course of describing some of these approaches she also addresses the theoretical, ethical and practical implications of undertaking such work. An important issue to emerge here is that much research takes a snapshot at a certain point in time, but that young people’s lives, their experiences and their understandings of those experiences are constantly changing and she argues for longitudinal studies which will allow ‘young people to unravel their complex biographies and their entanglements in crime.’ In this she joins the call to understand young people’s behaviour within its own context rather than from an adult perspective of wrong-doing.
Darrell Fox and Elaine Arnull take up the thorny issue of unintended consequences of policy initiatives, using the experience of England and Wales youth justice policy initiatives and their unexpected negative consequences to sound a note of caution to Canadian policy makers who have recently introduced similar legislative changes. They use a model of oppressive practice to consider the Canadian changes and compare those to effects in youth justice in England and Wales to show how seemingly sound evidence based non-oppressive policies were shifted towards a more oppressive law and order agenda.
Stephen Case and colleagues discuss differences between England and Wales in their approach to youth justice, highlighting how the Welsh system has a more positive approach, emphasising the presence of positive outcomes rather than the absence of negative ones. They use this model to argue that his approach works best, that children should be diverted away from criminal processes wherever possible, and that all interventions with children should be child friendly and child appropriate. As the Welsh picture reveals, such approaches can be implemented within current legislation.
Community courts are another example of being able to do something differently within existing legislative frameworks. In her paper Susie Atherton describes the US and UK experience of community courts, though the UK experience was short lived with the North Liverpool Community Justice Centre being closed down after just eight years despite calls for its continuation. She identifies the way in which the localised nature of the court and its relationship with the local community and its resources was better able to identify and address the social capital needs of many young offenders to support a pathway to desistance.
Community courts are just one element of the radical moral communitarianism model proposed by Sean Creaney and Roger Hopkins Burke in the final paper in this collection. They argue that the balancing of rights and responsibilities is a key requirement of this approach and present the implications for such an approach to responding to young people who offend. Engagement and participation are essential requirements of this approach, requiring mutual respect between citizens. However this also means addressing media representations and general population views of young offenders, which may be harder to achieve.
Latest Issue
Nothing found.