In 1773, a wealthy businessman named John Howard, appointed High Sheriff of Bedfordshire, was distressed to discover the barbaric treatment of inmates in his county jail. So he set off two years later on a fact-finding tour of prisons, travelling about 50,000 miles, mainly on horseback, on seven big trips around Britain and Europe. He was left sickened by the squalid sights and hideous stench confronting him in filthy cells stuffed with demoralised prisoners, many held for petty crimes, in shoddy buildings barely fit for animals. The best he found were in Holland, clean and calm; among the worst were infamous English prisons, such as Newgate.
Perhaps we have progressed less than we like to think over the ensuing centuries. Our prisons currently hold more people than those elsewhere in Western Europe. The Netherlands, among other nations, has found that big reductions in incarceration rates makes little difference to crime levels, while freeing up more cash to challenge underlying social problems.
On his trips, Howard discovered prisoners cooped in cells all day; today, many are still locked up almost round the clock. His legacy led to pioneering prison legislation and building of hygienic new units with single cells — yet now many inmates must still eat, sleep and defecate confined in cramped, shared rooms.
Our prisons are a national disgrace. We have a motley collection of 135 institutions crowded with often-damaged individuals who are being warehoused, either temporarily or permanently, out of sight from the rest of us. Many inmates have chaotic backgrounds, mental health conditions or learning disabilities. Most are detained for non-violent offences. Yet they are stuffed in places where violence is rife, drug use routine, suicide rates rising and self-harm running at horrific levels. Few of their fellow citizens seem to care what goes on behind the barbed wire and high walls, yet even the chief inspector of prisons warns they have “appalling living conditions” and “lack access to meaningful rehabilitative activity”.
Now there is fresh focus on the prison system after another terrorist attack — and this time by a jihadist fanatic who exploited efforts to help offenders back into the community. Usman Khan was freed under licence a year ago, seven years into a jail term for joining a bomb plot. He killed two young Cambridge graduates, Saskia Jones and Jack Merritt, who were filled with benevolent compassion for those less fortunate and attending an event run by a prison-based education project.
To underscore the complexities of these issues, those who thwarted Khan with such bravery included a man guilty of the most sickening murder of a young disabled woman, who was out on day release. “He is not a hero,” said one relative of the victim.
Join the discussion
Join like minded readers that support our journalism by becoming a paid subscriber
To join the discussion in the comments, become a paid subscriber.
Join like minded readers that support our journalism, read unlimited articles and enjoy other subscriber-only benefits.
Subscribe