A friend who teaches pre-school told me years ago, when my own children were small, that her school was attempting to reimagine punishment. Instead of paying all the attention, albeit negative, to the kid who did something wrong, they ignored the perpetrator and instead turned to the victim and asked him/her: "What do you need?" I have tried this with my own kids and have always been intrigued by how this functions. It isn't always successful. But it is always enlightening. Sometimes, one really seems to "need" vengeance -- anger is powerful -- but often the answer is "a hug" or "you to do something with me" (being a victim is, among other things, a profoundly isolating experience). Or the answer is "I don't know" and then a conversation begins about causes (what happened before), consequences, behavioral patterns, etc. Such conversations are much more effective paths towards closure and the kinds of self-understanding that lead to better choices down the road.
Pre-school is not the real world, in which there are, as we said in class, a range of transgressions from being in the wrong place at the wrong time to rape and murder. But I was struck by how reading Oliver's story of his own post-incarceration victimization by the PRI opens up the conversation to thinking about whether we are getting what we need from the way we punish. How does the answer to that question change as we think about the different stakeholders involved?
Since so much of our spring semester is organized around "point of view" and how it acknowledges (or not) the range of perspectives in any given issue, I also wanted to open up the conversation to the choices that are made (consciously or unconsciously) when recounting one's own particular perspective. This was the really interesting thing about Oliver's story to me: he never mentioned what his crime was. So as I was reading I was thinking a range of things: maybe it was so bad he didn't say because it would prejudice the reader against him; maybe he was relatively innocent (an addict caught up in the drug laws, for example) but he wanted to insist that he did not = his crime (his point being he did his time and it is OVER); or maybe it is still traumatic for him, and academic argument (even in the first person) enables a safe kind of way both to talk and not to talk about it. So even in a straightforward four-page essay, there are lots of complicated perspectives. How on earth can justice then be systematized (i.e. a justice system) to give us "what we need"?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
14 comments:
It’s funny that Professor Reitz used the punishment/ retribution of a child as a comparison for the punishment/ retribution of an adult, because when we discuss issues concerning punishment for offenses and remedies for the victim I often think about a parent disciplining their child.
Professor Reitz pointed out a technique of ignoring the offender and giving attention to the victim. Could this technique become a way of justice? Could society determine that the best way to remedy an offense is to focus entirely on the needs of the victim without needing to punish the offender with a “time out” or prison sentence?
I mentioned in class that my immediate thought after reading the article was that the eighth amendment protection against cruel and unusual punishment was broken by the “draconian collateral consequences” of the penal system (Oliver 2010). What would be the right punishment for an offender? Does Oliver’s premise of Megan’s Law and the requirement for sex offenders to register in a database support his conclusion for “collateral consequences”? I believe we enter the surreal when undertaking this topic.
Professor Reitz asked “how can justice be systemized to give us what we need?” I don’t know if it can be. The penitentiary system was set up to reform, for the offender to read their bible in isolation and serve penitence. What we have learned in class shows that isolation does not work; the penitentiary system does not help the offender repent. When the offender is released a new victim comes out of prison that is subject to long term consequences of the system or the person released from prison is a graduate from the “college” of criminality. Concerning the victim, little is done to aid them in recovering from the offense, sometimes nothing is done to protect a victim at all. I guess the answer for now would be that the system needs adjustment. There are some questions that come from this thought. What becomes the deterrent for crime? How does society even out the resources to prevent some of the causes of crime such as poverty, lack of education and drug abuse? Can the majority of people in society transcend the offense and feel no need for retribution?
Thank you, Professor Reitz, for your thought-provoking post. It's subtle and nuanced. I wish we could do a "play acting" type exercise around the questions you pose about what "we" need. I share with you my experience yesterday where "what we need" underlay all that I heard. I need to write this in two posts since it's apparently too long....
Yesterday, I attended an all-day conference at the CUNY Graduate Center on Higher Education in the Prisons. It was very exciting and enlightening.
There were folks from several colleges and universities in the metropolitan New York area who have established college programs in prisons: Bard, Princeton, Vassar, and Wesleyan (all top tier colleges and universities, all private). It seems CUNY—and John Jay in particular—will be reinvigorating the conversation with new initiatives that will marry two public institutions: school (CUNY) and prisons.
The speakers described the many ways higher education programs inside prisons have transformed lives. At Vassar, the program involves bringing Vassar students inside the prison to take academic courses (one course is titled “Family, Law and Social Policy”; another is “Gender, Social Problems and Social Change”). There were two Vassar students at the conference who told the audience that for them, the courses they took “on the inside” were equally rigorous to those they took on the college campus—in fact for them the courses were more demanding since they felt compelled to read all the assignments because the inmates were really prepared—and that the total experience was among the most profound—and life changing they had ever had. The other programs worked slightly differently (e.g., the college students are all inmates inside prisons). These top-tier colleges are very protective of their degrees—they’re only granted to those who can demonstrate they can keep up with demands of an academically rigorous curriculum. It seems the inmates they’ve worked with do.
........continued......
...continued from previous..
The most powerful take away message I got from the daylong event was from Daniel Karpowitz, Director of Policy of the Bard Prisoner Initiative (BPI). Karpowitz noted there is data galore that documents that programs such as these are a win-win all around. These programs: 1) positively impact recidivism—and are therefore preventative in terms of producing new and future victims; 2) require minimal investment and result in long-term financial benefit to taxpayers and the state; 3) positively impact the dynamics inside the prisons; and 4) have transformative effects on the inmates who go on to become productive contributors to society. Karpowitz’s main point was not that efficacy can be demonstrated (indeed, it has been demonstrated over and over again). His main point is that the contemporary political and cultural discourse (that’s been in place for about 40 years) around “crime” and “criminals” has had a terrible impact on policy. The discourse of punishment and all it implies (the “criminal” can never really be forgiven, the “criminal” can never really repay his/her debt, the “criminal” can never really change; crime is only embodied in individuals, not the social body) has had horrific results for all: for society, for victims, for “criminals.” Such a discourse is itself violent—it’s about vengeance, hate, blame. Karpowitz calls for a different kind of discourse—one that begins with the premise that all human beings should be provided the opportunity to fulfill their potential. Through BPI, Karpowitz has seen potential fulfilled. He has seen splendid accomplishments by inmates who would otherwise have languished, who would otherwise have continued to be social burdens or threats to other people. He calls all that a waste. Aside from the waste in financial terms, it’s a waste in human terms. He said of the inmates in the BPI program, “Their academic accomplishments reveals that waste.” Without the education, without the BPI approach, these inmates would be wasted and would have wasted.
Over these past 40 years, the criminal justice discourse of punishment has dominated—even if there have been other “voices” (struggling to be heard) in its midst. Yesterday I heard a small group of people who have been struggling on the frontlines for decades to prevent waste. Over that time, their voices have been drowned out by the dominant discourse and the powerful policies and criminal justice practices that resulted and remain in place. This leads me to this caution about “perspectives”: As we consider the issue of “perspectives,” we must keep in mind that “points of view” don’t get played out on equal playing fields. That field—that unequal field—must be accounted for in our/your analyses.
In my Lit 415 course we discussed structural reasons for the large rate of incarcerated individuals in America—it is also not surprising that the majority of the prison population tends to be minorities. Many scholars, with whom I agree, indicate that the current nature of disenfranchisement and destruction of minority communities is a transposition of historical wrongdoings by white civil society into the present (i.e. high levels of incarceration as the new form of slavery, mining of uranium on Native American lands as the new small pox epidemic). The concept of punishment as “everlasting,” particularly in Oliver’s story, also stems from white civil society’s belief in the Christian doctrine of eternal punishment—the fiery pits of hell ring any bells. White secular society still obviously holds the idea of “everlasting” punishment in high regard; the difference is that secular society has removed God as an important part of this discourse which makes “redemption” almost impossible in the modern context. So to answer Oliver’s question of “Will My Punishment Ever End” no it cannot, especially if white-civil-secular society has its way.
Chad Out!
It is so hard for me to respond to these blogs. I have way too much to say...
Being a victim of violence I always resented how I was treated during the process of seeking justice. Justice for me did not mean seeing my abuser rot in prison, although having him there did make me feel safe. Honestly, I am not sure if putting him in prison makes me happy at all. The same way that I should be forgiven for my mistakes, so should he. But he is a repeat offender, he does not learn from his mistakes. In fact you cannot even call them mistakes anymore, they are conscious immoral decisions. He should be treated in a way that would help him to realize the negative effects that he is having on his victims, his neighbors, his friends, his mother, his brothers, his daughter, and the entire community. He should be assisted in being able to understand why he chooses to act the way that he does; where does his anger stem from? He should get help in learning weather or not he has a diagnosable psychiatric condition. He should get assistance in taking the steps to control his anger. He should be able to face his victims and hear what they have to say, and in an ideal outcome he might even want to apologize for what he did. I think that these things would make me feel comfort; to know that he was actually getting help. As much as he is the perpetrator, in some ways he is also a victim.
The justice system that we have does not seem to prevent crime, help criminals or victims. So, why are my hard earned tax dollars supporting a system that is proven not to work? Whose interests are we satisfying by locking up men and women in solitary confinement for years only to be released with major psychological trauma, no resources, and no support system? Punishment is supposed to deter you from doing something wrong and to stop someone from hurting someone else. But today people are punished more harshly for stealing a small amount of money than they are for raping a woman or molesting young children. We have moved far away from rehabilitation and as Chad states we have only created a loop hole for modern day slavery.
I absolutely agree with the concept that a person is not equivalent to their mistakes, nor are they equal to their successes. Due to this I completely sympathize with Oliver's troubles: society views him as an accumulation of misdeeds rather than a person, and he is continually punished for this. The Christian conception of punishment Chad mentions is unfortunately true, and somewhat misconstructed because the entire point of "punishment" in Christian belief is eventual forgiveness and redemption...not a fiery, everlasting punishment.
It would be absolutely wonderful if half of the money allocated to "rehabilitating" the perpetrator was instead pumped into improving the life of the victim, if tis were the case I believe our society should be a much better place. However in our "streets paved with gold" and "be what you want to be" society the victim is left to pick up the pieces and improve their own lives. And to be honest, I find nothing wrong with this. Cold-hearted as this seems, considering the things that I have gone through in my life I believe that any person is capable of accomplishing more than they realize and no matter what goes on in one's lives someone can bounce back stronger than before without the help of others.
Concerning deterrence...it would be spectacular if punishment would scare would be offenders straight. However even the death penalty is, strangely, not frightening enough to deter as crime statisticians can tell you. How to fix this, I have no idea. I wholeheartedly believe in rehabilitation however and suspect that there are many crimes for which there is no recovery, for both victims and criminals.
Hearing Oliver's story, as well as knowing the stories of others who have become victims of their own choices (all the while being fortunate enough to know that each of those victims recovered and came out of their troubles stronger than they were) I am somewhat unaware if those being punished will ever recover completely and be forgiven by themselves, much less their societies.
Professor Reitz,
You raise a very important question regarding the different perspectives. I have to admit that I do not have an answer to that question because that is the kind of question that I am currently pondering as I take my philosophy class.
For example, whose perspective does the law take into consideration when they say "justice is served"? For whom does the system cater to in terms of justice? I agree that there are quite a number of perspectives in any given case, and it puzzles me how the courts and/or the law claims to achieve justice with all these different perspectives/life stories/deep wishes involved.
I will continue to think about these questions throughout the semester, and I hope to gain some insight eventually.
Thank you for an interesting blog!
I am a little bit lost, puzzled and confused. I was trying to come up with some answers to the questions stated above, but I could not. On the one hand, I support Alex’s point that he stated during our class discussion: being in prison, a person is paying his/her debt to a society. At the same time, I support Joseph’s view: if a person killed someone who was close to you, serving a punishment is not enough because a person that is missing cannot be replaced with anyone else. Therefore, it is difficult for me to support any of those sides.
Again, on the one hand, our criminal justice system has some positive aspects (for instance, taking classes in prison that Dr. Waterston mentioned). But it is not enough. Often, a person with no support and family is lost after being released (as Joseph mentioned).
We need to reform our criminal justice system. Small steps are being made by the officials.
Unfortunately, I do not see any right solutions to the problem now.
As Jamie and Nadiya indicate, there are no easy answers. There are big problems, small successes and a lot of reform needed. So might I encourage those who are just now checking the blog or rechecking the blog to take up the more philosophical (and less policy-oriented) aspect of punishment that was embedded in my post? How does this whole conversation change if we proceed from the question about what people need? Do we prioritize here (the victim first, social safety concerns next, etc.) or do we ask this question of all involved equally (which presumes that violent actors were/are themselves in "need" of something)? What kinds of additional questions get raised when we reimagine punishment as a problem not of looking backward (at actions) but of looking forward?
I tried but I couldn't whittle this down to one post. This and the one that follows are my contribution.
This morning I went to a presentation by a psychologist during which he showed taped sessions with two patients diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), which used to be called Multiple Personality Disorder. I bring the idea of multiple personalities into our conversation because I think it offers a very useful construct for the discussion of perspective and how standing in one place (or in a particular pairs of shoes) can obstruct one’s ability to perceive and experience the world in a more holistic way.
In the face of trauma, we are overwhelmed and dissociate what’s happening, like going into shock. We go on, greeting the world more or less intact, depending on the severity of the trauma and our own resilience, but a little piece or pieces of us have become unglued. Often those pieces take on a life of their own. For people with DID, the parts of personality are so estranged from one another that they present with no co-conscientious at all. Bill shows up in your office and doesn’t even know Harry, who came to the session last week. Being a victim of violent crime is one of the most traumatic experiences a person can endure and, although very few victims develop a severe pathology, all become somewhat dissociated around the trauma, whether that means they cannot remember clearly, cannot think logically, or can no longer access the parts of themselves that can feel empathy for others. As I said in class, that's why they are not on the jury.
Victimization cuts off our ability to stand in another’s place because our own place has become suddenly so uncertain and fragile. Most people who are violent were at some point also the victims of violence. The criminal justice system then re-traumatizes perpetrators and victims alike, as Christina points out. (In fact, Christina’s blog highlights the strange interchangeability of people in the criminal justice system, where all end up victims and all become enraged enough to perpetrate.) The tension inherent in recognizing one’s own paradoxical impulses, particularly when you are talking about such contradictory states as victimhood and perpetration, is astronomical. But in not recognizing them, we simply enact them, and violence begets more violence in an endless vengeful loop, where we delude ourselves into thinking that our “needs” are being met through attempts to even the score with the person who hurt us. That person’s suffering, meanwhile, has not at all made us whole, it has just increased the likelihood of future attacks.
Maybe the needs of victims and offenders are not as diametrically opposed as we think. Susan Herman, writing in “Parallel Justice” says that victims’ basic needs are to be safe, to recover from the trauma, and to regain control of their lives. This is equally true for offenders. In recognizing the similarity of needs, we avoid the head splitting dissociation of both parties' need to be cared for from their need to exact revenge.
James Gilligan’s and Bandy Lee’s “Beyond the Prison Paradigm” presents programs that try to forge complementary systems where victims, offenders, and society as a whole have their needs addressed. (These “anti-prison” advocates are psychiatrists with long resumes in the prison system: James Gilligan ran Bridgewater State Hospital for the Criminally Insane for 30 years and Bandy Lee is a Professor of Law and Psychiatry at Yale who oversees the Violence Project. Gilligan and Lee make clear that the prisons cannot be reformed; they must be dismantled entirely.) Their Anti-Prison is actually a secure, locked, residential college, therapeutic community, and center for human development. Their work details successful programs and experimental models around the country, some of which have reduced recidivism to ZERO. Most programs are intensive 12 hour a day, 6 day a week therapeutic milieus, with strong educational programs. (In one California program, NONE of the 200 inmates receiving Bachelor degrees went back to prison.) Another important component of these programs is their Victim Impact modules, where victim/survivors from the community work with the incarcerated to help them understand the effect of their crimes. Many inmates say that it is this part of the program that changed them the most, and facilitated their own decision to never re-offend.
It is true, as Joseph said, that the suffering of people can never be undone (this is true for those on either end of the equation) but when the conditions of safety, at least partial recovery, and a sense of control over one’s life are achieved, it seems that we would be further along the road to justice than we are now.
I apologize for my last post all! - I'm having difficulty getting back into the grove of things!
The point that Professor Reitz has taken in review of a story on punishment in preschool is fascinating. The preschool reimagining punishment is something that the criminal justice does quite often, however the victim is often ignored. The method of punishment in the United States swings back and forth between incapacitation and rehabilitation. When one of these two options does not work the pendulum swing back towards the other rather than stopping somewhere in the middle.
“How can justice be systemized to give us what we need?” My answer to this question will be better explained when I teach the class about restorative practices. I believe that this is an option that should be explored as a way to better assist the needs those who are involved in the justice system. Restorative practices allows each party to get what they need, as they are allowed the opportunity to partake in a discussion and a way to repair any harm can be set in motion.
I meant to say late not last!
I read all your posts with interest and sympathy. I think the idea of the Anti-Prison is fascinating (for future syllabi, Professor Stein?). A small, cranky, voice from the Past (in a growling Scottish accent) is nagging at me, though. Thomas Carlyle, 19th century writer and social critic, wrote an essay called "Model Prisons." (I'll try to get a link to it for our "Check it Out" section.) He reviews some of the new prison systems gaining ground in the 19th century era of reform (we will get back to this cultural moment during Christina's week, I think, since we'll talk about Foucault and he talks about Jeremy Bentham's turn-of-the-century prison innovations). He basically thinks that in providing safer, more humane, rehabilitation-oriented prisons that society has gone insane. He is grouchy. But his point is that outside of these new "model prisons" poor people are starving, unable to find work, to feed themselves, to find shelter. He can't believe that the priority would be to address the "prison" problem before the "street" problem. I can imagine someone who is struggling to pay rent, hold down jobs, afford rising college tuition and health care costs (let alone support other family members) reading about the Anti-Prison and thinking, well, some Carlylean thoughts...
Post a Comment