Prisons within prisons: what can we learn from how we manage our most dangerous offenders?
Following a very positive inspection of Close Supervision Centres (CSCs), which hold some of the most dangerous men in the prison system, Charlie Taylor reflects on the important work being done in CSCs and the stark contrast with conditions on the rest of the estate.
It is a rarity at the moment to publish an inspection report that notes strong leadership, low levels of self-harm, excellent time out of cell and calm and clean wings where prisoners are trusted to cook for themselves.
Perhaps surprisingly, this isn’t a report on an open prison where men are being prepared for imminent return to the community. Rather, this is the reality of the units holding the most dangerous prisoners in England and Wales, many of whom will never be released.
Close Supervision Centres (CSCs) have been in operation since 1998. Their purpose is to remove the most dangerous or disruptive prisoners from the wings and manage them within small and highly supervised units, effectively prisons within prisons.
This serves several important purposes. Firstly, by moving the prisoner into a more controlled environment it effectively removes the threat they pose to other prisoners and staff. Secondly, it gives staff the opportunity to assess the individual’s risks and work with them to try to reduce that risk with tailored interventions including work with forensic psychiatrists. Ultimately, the aim is that these very dangerous men can eventually be managed safely on the wings.
There are six CSCs based within high security prisons and each holds a very limited number of men at any one time – at the time of this inspection there were 44 men in CSCs out of a potential capacity of 66. Their smaller size, higher levels of staffing and multidisciplinary working combine to provide a highly supervised environment. Robust care and management steps set out in individualised plans provide opportunities for each prisoner to develop more settled and acceptable patterns of behaviour. And they do some really good work. While we found that men needed far more to do with their time in terms of education and work, units were clean, calm and stable with violent incidents surprisingly rare, low rates of self-harm and no self-inflicted deaths. The quality of multidisciplinary working, and the individualised support and planning offered to each man was impressive. Progress, no matter how small, was acknowledged and those selected for the units were given every opportunity to address their risks and move on from the CSC, including into other types of dedicated intervention in the prison system or to the health sector. The quality of leadership, at both national and local level, was coherent and effective. Leaders and staff knew what they were doing and should be congratulated on their achievements.
CSCs are a success story. But it is hard not to contrast the offering in these well-resourced centres for the most dangerous of offenders with the reality for the vast majority of the 87 thousand men in our prisons, the majority of whom will, sooner or later, be released.
Our prisons are overcrowded. Many do not have enough staff. Far too many continue to deliver barely two hours out of cell a day, and inspection report after inspection report cites a total dearth of meaningful employment or education that could help people secure employment on release. With nothing to do all day, we are seeing a resurgence in the demand for drugs with one recent inspection finding more than half of men testing positive for illicit drugs. With rising drugs comes rising violence. Resettlement support is stretched, and we report again and again on men being released homeless and, all too predictably, being recalled to prison within days. The mayhem of jails like Wandsworth is far closer to the reality for most than the relative peace and calm of CSCs.
While the level of intensive support in CSCs is neither feasible nor necessary for the majority of our jails, our prisons can and should be places of real purpose that genuinely support rehabilitation. Not being as bad as Wandsworth is not the standard we should be aiming for. If we can get it right for the most dangerous of offenders, surely we can do better to support those who will be returning to our communities?
Our recent thematic review, Improving behaviour in prisons, identified a number of prisons who are managing to buck this trend and are delivering far better outcomes for the men in their custody. And they do not have unlimited funds to do so. MoJ data tells us that Oakwood, for example, is the cheapest prison per place. It is also one of the largest and safest category C prisons in the country. Men there were actively engaging in business initiatives, work and education and spoke hopefully about their future.
We need to be clear what we want to happen when people are in prison. Penning them up in squalor and hoping for the best on their release is not good enough. We owe both society and the men and women in custody more than that. One of our guiding principles at the inspectorate is the belief in the capacity of people and organisations to change. We believe that prisons can play their part in reducing future offending, and that most people are capable of moving on from crime to take their place in society. But that doesn’t happen by chance.