Recidivism: A Deficiency Disease [Reprint 2016 ed.] 9781512804065

Table of contents :
Foreword
Contents
1. Focus of Interest
2. Prelude to Our Project
3. Pilot Project in a Penitentiary
4. The Disruptive Personality
5. Social Isolation
6. Index of Failure
7. Factors Militating Against Change
8. Prevention, Treatment, Research
Index

Citation preview

Recidivism A Deficiency Disease

Recidivism A Deficiency Disease By Alastair W. MacLeod

Philadelphia University of Pennsylvania Press

©

1 9 6 5 by the Trustees of the University of Pennsylvania Published in Great Britain, India, and Pakistan by the O x f o r d University Press London, Bombay, and Karachi

Library of Congress Catalogue Card Number:

65-22381

7496 Printed in the United States of America

Foreword THE

CONTENTS

OF

THIS

MONOGRAPH ARE

DERIVED

FROM

the series of lectures given by the author in 1 9 5 8 under the terms of the Isaac Ray Lectureship A w a r d . In

the lectures the author drew on relevant

psychiatric

literature to interpret the findings of a small-scale study of criminality made with the cooperation of inmates in a Canadian penitentiary. Certain provisional conjectures as to some causes

of

which

would

criminality

were

presented,

follow logically

and

certain

reforms

from these conjectures

were

proposed. T h e principal hypothesis put forward in the lectures was that damaging degrees of deprivation brought about by various kinds of social isolation during critical l i f e periods can seriously handicap the individual in learning and using the social skills essential to the living of

a non-criminal

life.

Nothing has happened subsequently in what is known of the post-study conduct of the prisoners w h o participated in the study, in psychiatric or sociological research known to the author, or in the reports of the press and government agencies 5

6

RECIDIVISM

A DEFICIENCY

DISEASE

concerned with crime to suggest that the hypothesis should he changed. In preparing the monograph for publication at this date, however, pertinent press references and statistical information becoming available in intervening years have been included. This added factual material unhappily shows that f a r from abating, crime is on the increase, and that nowhere is there evidence of significant change in a positive direction in the effectiveness of

current

methods

used

by

crime-controlling

agencies or in public attitudes towards the suppression of crime and the handling of criminals. A number of assumptions underlie the views expressed by the author. One of these is attributable to Baroness Wootton. It is that multiple factors may determine delinquency and crime, and that there is much confused thinking about the relationship between anti-social behavior and mental disorder. For example it is hard to define a psychopath in terms acceptable to all authorities and to apply medical criteria to the legal concepts of criminal responsibility. Another assumption, propounded by Professor Lionel Penrose, is that crime is a relative phenomenon to be measured only by the standards of behavior appropriate to a particular social system at a given time and place, and that crime has meaning only in relation to cultural environment. A third assumption has been elucidated recently by Lord Brain, F.R.S., speaking to the British Association for the Advancement of Science. It is that while genetic influences upon criminality are probably important, the most hopeful way to deal with these may be to discover what environmental factors activate them. W h y is it, f o r example, that unwholesome environmental factors may cause one person to resort to delinquent behavior while another does not? W h y is one person more vulnerable than another?

FOREWORD

Paramountry,

why

is it that our prison system, with

7

its

stated objectives of r e f o r m and rehabilitation, turns three out of every four

first-offenders

into recidivists to harass the com-

munity again and again? Surely the answers to these questions will not be found in building more and more and bigger and bigger prisons. Surely other methods of prevention and treatment must be diligently sought and studied. N o claim of originality is made f o r the basic hypothesis that links emotional deprivation with criminality. This emerged f r o m the thinking of many people concerned with the problems of anti-social behavior, only a f e w of w h o m could be acknowledged in text references and footnotes. It should be said that this modest effort is intended to be speculative rather than scientific. If it stimulates f u r t h e r thought and investigation in directions that prove f r u i t f u l , it will have served its purpose.

Contents Foreword

5

χ

Focus of Interest

13

2

Prelude to Our Project

15

3

Pilot Project in a Penitentiary

18

4

T h e Disruptive Personality

42

5

Social Isolation

51

6

Index of Failure

68

7

Factors Militating Against Change

74

8

Prevention, Treatment, Research

96

Index

129

Recidivism A Deficiency Disease

1 Focus of Interest ALL SOCIETIES FRAME LAWS TO LIVE BY. ALL HAVE MEMBERS

who break laws. And all develop methods of dealing with deviant members. In this monograph, law breaking is looked at from the viewpoint of a psychiatrist working in the field of public health. The purpose is to explore whether psychiatry, with its disciplined knowledge of human nature and its special methods for treating personality disorders, can contribute to a clearer understanding of criminality, and perhaps to a better management of those who seemingly cannot or will not abide by the rules society lays down. In approaching the subject of law breaking, it may be useful to start by looking at the broad classification of non-conformists among whom criminals form only one sub-group. Society has always treated its non-conformists harshly. Historically, the seers and seekers, the poets and prophets while deserving well of their fellow men too often suffered, with the malefactor, the heaviest penalties of the law. Socrates was !3

14

RECIDIVISM

A DEFICIENCY

DISEASE

put to death not as an undesirable individual but as a focus of intellectual infection. Galileo was made to recant less because his ideas created a new world than because they unsettled an old one. Gandhi was subjected to violence because he coun selled non-violence. Such non-conformists have come to be revered as society has been able to overtake and make use of their ethical and intellectual foresights. Our present concern is not with deviants w h o m history may judge as benefactors of mankind. W e are here interested narrowly in that sub-group whose conduct can be readily demonstrated to be destructive and to trespass on the rights

of

others. This sub-group includes the delinquents, thieves, swindlers, murderers, sociopaths and the many dubious, unclassified denizens of the so called underworld. Jurists, penologists, theologians, savants and journalists have authored an impressive library of books, treatises, reports and articles on crime, punishment and correction. Only more recently have psychiatrists begun to add their observations, speculative thought and recommendations to the literature. T h e project to be described briefly in this monograph, and the hypotheses and suggestions arising from it are presented as a modest, experimental step in the direction of better understanding of the problem. It presents no panaceas, suggests no ready solutions in the area of prevention or treatment. But it has been written in a spirit of confidence shared by many psychiatrists that the complex causes of

criminality can be

better understood than they now are, and that this understanding can be used both to lessen the incidence of crime and to increase the effectiveness of rehabilitative practices.

2 Prelude to Our Project "ALMOST EVERYBODY BREAKS SOME

LAWS,

AND

IF

PEOPLE

were not afraid of being caught and punished, they would break more laws," was the unanimous opinion of a group of convicts taking part in a pilot study of criminality in the St. Vincent de Paul Penitentiary near Montreal. Most of us, I think, would agree with the convicts that almost everybody breaks laws of one kind or another. Just look at our traffic violations! And who has not heard respectable citizens boast about outwitting customs officials or manipulating income tax returns? Or what about the ways in which "reputable" business enterprises, large as well as small, have been found guilty of defrauding the public? Yet law breaking of this kind seldom carries the stigma of criminality. Does the "criminal" then differ from the average citizen only in the degree or the areas of his law breaking? Or are there deeper differences in behavior, attitudes and identifica15

l6

RECIDIVISM

A DEFICIENCY

DISEASE

tions? A n d how true is the convicts' implicit belief that society is largely held together by the fear of being apprehended and punished? T h e s e and related questions as to the causes, incidence and treatment

of criminality

were raised and examined

in

our

study. But before dealing with them, let m e explain why and how my colleagues and I came to be conducting such a study in a Canadian Federal penitentiary. L i k e many

psychiatrists,

I have had

patients

who

were

p l a g u e d by the fear they would g o out and commit crimes. Other patients imagined they had committed crimes; still others were ex-convicts fearful of getting into trouble again. W h i l e present psychiatric methods are frequently successful in clearing u p phobias and obsessions such as those of the first two kinds of patients, they frequently prove to be ineffectual and disappointing, as I had found, when applied to the problems of the habitual criminal. Such frustrating experiences with recidivists led to informal discussions with associates in the McGill University Department of Psychiatry and the Montreal Mental Hygiene Institute, and with executives of the John H o w a r d Society of Q u e bec. Our conversations ranged the whole field of law breaking, punishment and rehabilitation, known research and

relevant

literature. Many questions were raised. Is there such a thing as a "criminal personality"? What about the so called sociopath? H o w far is society responsible for the crime it generates? H o w do criminals differ from non-criminals, and from each other? W h a t is the record of our prison system, not only as a protective but as a corrective or therapeutic institution? A n d what contributions can psychiatry make to a better

understanding

of the underlying causes of criminality? Out of these exchanges of personal experiences,

observa-

tions and speculations, came agreement that present methods

PRELUDE

T O OUR

PROJECT

17

of treating our offenders obviously leave much to be desired, that psychiatry should be able to make further useful contributions in this area, and that a logical place to begin an exploratory project would be in a penitentiary itself. W h a t better place could there be to meet, work with and observe men who have been convicted of major offences? Accordingly, after permission had been granted by the appropriate Federal and Provincial authorities, the St. Vincent de Paul study was launched early in 1 9 5 5 under the official auspices of

the M c G i l l

Department of

Psychiatry

and

the

Montreal Mental Hygiene Institute, and with the collaboration and support of the John Howard Society of Quebec.

3 Pilot Project in a Penitentiary OUR

P R O J E C T WAS C O N C E I V E D AS A J O I N T S T U D Y OF

CRIM-

inality and recidivism conducted by a research team and a group of prisoners. It took the form of a series of weekly meetings in the St. Vincent de Paul Penitentiary. T h e research team comprised the prison psychologist, a male psychiatric social worker, a married female psychiatrist, and the author who is a psychiatrist and psychoanalyst. For a number of reasons we decided to work with the prisoners as a group rather than as individuals. First, we felt we should be able to make the best use of the limited man hours available to us if we operated as a group in which the prisoners and research workers could engage in free verbal exchanges. Second, group operation would allow us to make team observations and team assessments of developments. Third, we hoped that differences between one convict and another could be more readily noted in a group setting than 18

PILOT

PROJECT

IN

A

PENITENTIARY

19

in sessions with individuals. Incidentally, we knew that if we needed more detailed information about individuals in the group, we would have access to the case histories compiled by the prison psychologist. And finally, we hoped that the dynamics of group interaction might lead us to some new information, new hypotheses, possibly even new insights. The members of our team could allot only enough time to the project to enable us to organize one group meeting a week. And because there are limits to the number of individuals who can coalesce into a group, we arbitrarily set a top acceptance limit of sixteen men. As enlistment and attendance were to be voluntary, we estimated that about 1 0 prisoners would show up each week, the number we felt to be optimal. This proved to be the case. Although our group was to be set up more along the lines of a study group than a therapy group, we nonetheless hoped that some personal benefits might accrue to the prisoners taking part. Accordingly, we decided that enlistment should be restricted to prisoners anticipating discharge within approximately six months. In this, we speculated that: (a) prisoners approaching release would be more strongly motivated to think about their future and thus might more readily benefit from the sessions; (b) participation might help cushion their return to the outside community; and (c) we could later keep in touch with the men through the John Howard Society. The group was then made up on a first-come-first-serve basis from volunteers qualifying as to early discharge. N o attempt was made to make the group representative of the criminal population of the Penitentiary. But it did turn out to be representative in one respect. Throughout the period of the study, there were always twelve or thirteen recidivists to two or three

20

RECIDIVISM

A DEFICIENCY

DISEASE

first offenders on the group roster which is close to the startlingly high 80-20 ratio of recidivists to first offenders in the total penitentiary population of Canada. Previous experiences with convicts had prepared us to expect that the men would be obdurate and cagey. Their l i f e before conviction and in prison would be sure to make them highly suspicious of our team. They might easily reject us as just another gaggle of do-gooders trying to sell a particular set of moral values or a special way of life. Unfortunately, many of the representatives of the law-abiding community who visit prisons are often seen by the inmates as strongly motivated by an unrealistic sense of mission, sincere but sentimental, and without clues as to the 'facts of

life' on its

seamy side. From the outset we sought to make our position clear to the men. W e were not there, w e pointed out, because w e thought that their present dilemma was the result of a psychological illness that would respond to psychiatric treatment. Rather, w e were all in this together as a group of people, some of whom had encountered overwhelming difficulties. So we were going to pool experiences and opinions in talking over the problems of crime as it affected everyone in the community whether inside or outside prison. W e likened our approach to the way the problems presented by tuberculosis had been tackled by an earlier generation. Once a major threat to community health, T . B . was walled off from thought and talk by fear, walled off from community involvement by prison-like sanatoria. Today it was no longer a taboo subject or greatly feared. Immediately following significant discoveries in drugs and treatment had come an almost revolutionary shift in social attitudes. W e l l people, T . B . sufferers and doctors sat down together to explore the causes and

PILOT

PROJECT

IN A P E N I T E N T I A R Y

21

effects of the disease and to work out ways of preventing it from spreading other than by making social outcasts of its victims. Our group, we explained, was similarly being drawn together to study another major and as yet little understood threat to community health. The logic of beginning with people who had first hand knowledge of the problem was in no way lost on the men. So here we were, hoping with their help to learn more about what brings some people into serious conflict with the law, what militates against their reabsorption by the community, and what direction further study and action should take. W e assured the men that everything personal said in the group would be held in confidence. None of the disclosures or matters discussed would be passed on to prison officials or other authorities, and none of the findings would later be reported in such a way as to reveal identity of members. In this respect we explained that the relationship between the team and the prisoners would be similar to that between a doctor and his patients, and that the team would not even so much as take notes at the sessions. W e also said in effect we had no intention of trying to sell them our particular conformity, nor could we promise them benefits of any kind. W e did suggest, however, that taking part in some constructive thinking would not do them any harm and might even help them find answers to some of their personal problems. W e pointed out that therapists had discovered that the very fact of bringing a degree of organization to disorganized areas of thought and feeling seemed in some way to benefit participants. T o the casual observer the early meetings at which we presented the objectives of the study might have sounded more

22

RECIDIVISM

A DEFICIENCY

DISEASE

like military briefings than g r o u p discussion sessions. But we knew the men needed both information and time to understand and accept our aims. They needed time to size us u p as trustworthy before they would risk talking freely. There was, too, an understandable reticence to be overcome, particularly when talk veered toward personal histories, feelings and reactions to prison life. A f t e r the prisoners were given the opportunity

to form

their own

conclusions

talk

did

become

rather quickly a primary medium of exchange for the dynamic transactions that can occur in such a g r o u p setting. During

these early sessions,

the men

decided

that

they

should have a chairman and a secretary from among their own members to run the meetings. These officers were not elected by ballot but by discussion as the men talked among themselves about who should do what. In the process, a well educated and articulate young man volunteered to keep the minutes and become the group's first secretary. On the lighter side, an episode involving this m a n will be reported later. A s the sessions went on, each member seemed to get a clearer, more realistic view of his personal problems,

some

appreciation of the likeness of his problems to those of other members, and some sense of support and approval from the group. But what manner of men were these who were working with us? They were mostly young. Several were just out of their teens. O n e was middle aged. They came from widely scattered parts of Canada, from different cultural and religious backgrounds, and from all socio-economic levels. A few had only a little public school education; some had finished grade school; others had gone on into high school; one had attended and later dropped out of university. For reasons of confidentiality mentioned earlier, I cannot here give revealing details of case histories. But by taking liberties with factual material, I can give an impression of the

PILOT

PROJECT

IN

A PENITENTIARY

23

personalities and backgrounds of some of the men taking part in our study. Prisoner K: This young man was a first offender and came from a cultural group in which family ties are very strong. As a white collar worker he had moved up the ladder to a responsible position. His modest salary met the basic needs of his family but permitted little in the way of luxuries and left him dissatisfied with himself because he felt he was a poor provider. So when his position presented him with the opportunity to get extra money dishonestly, he found himself in a turmoil. But not for long. His resistance crumbled and, as almost invariably occurs, his defalcations came to light and he was 'brought to justice.' Imprisonment hadn't broken K ' s ties with his family. He was devoted to his wife, children and close relatives, and they to him. He was confident of being accepted back into the family circle upon release. Prisoner N: An emotionally barren home in a slum area was the background of this member, a drug addict. His mother had cared little about the children, the father even less. In fact, to judge from the prisoner's recollections, it would seem that the father had never taken the slightest interest in the children or in anything that went on in the home. Apparently he could be physically present in the family's crowded, squalid quarters while yet being so emotionally distant as to preclude meaningful, psychological transactions with either his w i f e or children. From the evidence presented, we might well speculate that this father was mentally ill, suffering from chronic depression. And perhaps the mother too. Prisoner W: It has been said that a criminal is a person with predatory instincts who hasn't sufficient capital to form a cor-

24

RECIDIVISM

poration. Prisoner W

A

DEFICIENCY

DISEASE

came close to fitting this ironic defini-

tion. H e had come to prison as the virtual president and general manager of the delinquent enterprise he had

organized

and managed as efficiently as any commercial business. This

'organization m a n ' had been brought u p in a com-

munity in which his father held a post of authority and trust. T h e f a m i l y belonged to a small, exceedingly strict sect which

was repressive and emotionally

religious

depriving

demands upon adherents. A s a child, under harsh

in

its

discipline

the son had c o n f o r m e d to the f a m i l y ' s rigid standards but in his late 'teens he broke away f r o m h o m e and joined the permanent army. H a v i n g taken this step, he said he k n e w

he

never could g o back h o m e again, (and his f a m i l y did nothing that w o u l d encourage him to alter this c o n v i c t i o n ) . Unconsciously i d e n t i f y i n g with his authoritarian father, he had an i m p e l l i n g need to achieve a position of c o m m a n d over men. A r m y l i f e g a v e him scope f o r his emotional drives and organizational talents. A n d army trade school courses g a v e him more than a smattering of k n o w l e d g e in electrical engineering. H i s progress was good, his record was clean and his prospects of rising through the ranks were promising. B u t he was too impatient to reconcile himself to the slow, structured, w a n g l e d advancement he f o r e s a w in an army career and opted out. T h e civilian employment he was able to find on l e a v i n g the army neither satisfied his drives nor challenged his abilities. So he set about organizing his own e n t e r p r i s e — b u r g l a r y on a business basis. A n d his " e n t e r p r i s e "

flourished.

T h e staff was

well trained, well disciplined and c a r e f u l l y b r i e f e d . F r o m the meticulous casing of

a

"prospect,"

through

the

deactivating

of burglar alarms, the acquisition, transportation, storage and final

marketing of the hot merchandise, operations w e r e inte-

grated, orderly and profitable. Despite his j u d g m e n t ,

energy,

and successful management record, his leadership was threat-

PILOT

PROJECT

IN

A PENITENTIARY

25

ened from time to time. In such a crisis, he would use his fists with as much fierce satisfaction as his wits to beat down presumptuous challengers. So it was that, like his father, this young man had become χ person of authority. Unlike his father, he had used his power to tear down rather than uphold law and order. At group sessions he was tense and taciturn. When he did open up in discussion, he expressed no bitterness toward his father. Seemingly unaware that his criminal career was itself a posture of hostility toward much that the father stood for, he even spoke of "looking up" to the man upon whom he had so obversely modelled his personality. But his bitterness toward society-at-large revealed the ambivalence of his feelings toward his father. Prisoner G: He was our youngest member and came from a minority cultural group. He had been brought up in a home of better than average financial standing by parents who seemed to have gratified his every childish whim. The father ran his own business and took the son into partnership after he graduated from high school. Their area of business was one in which competition was keen and practices were shrewd to say the least. The work gave the well heeled young man the opportunity to follow his inclination toward rowdy company and questionable pursuits. Before long he was caught and sentenced as a member of a gang involved in a series of robberies. The father didn't reject his son for his delinquencies; on the contrary, he gave him every assurance that he would be accepted back into the family upon release. By contrast the father had not been so tolerant of his only daughter a few years earlier when she married outside the family faith. He had rejected her completely and the family had never again

26

RECIDIVISM

A DEFICIENCY

DISEASE

so much as acknowledged her existence. In view of this harshness in censuring conduct they may have regarded as deplorable, but hardly criminal,

it is interesting to contrast

the

father's indulgence when his son became involved in outright criminal activities. Prisoner

A: This middle aged member was a first-termer rather

than a first offender. By his own admission, he was a latecomer to prison, not a latecomer to crime. For many years he had been a sharp operator in the fur trade. H e called it "the skin game." " Y o u skin animals, customers and the banks too," he reminisced with rueful good humour. His dishonest manipulations had finally caught up with him. This man's case history would suggest that from childhood on, life had taught him that it was proper and prudent to outwit all with whom one came in contact. Raised in an impoverished family, he had little formal education and had fended for himself from an early age. He took some pride in his many evasions of the law over the years. T h e only crime he felt guilty of was getting caught. Prisoner

C: Here is the bright young man I mentioned earlier

who became the first secretary of our group. O f above-average intelligence but less gifted than his brilliant and distinguished father, he had been dogged since childhood by an overwhelming sense of inadequacy. He had retreated into unreality and, to a much greater extent than could be considered normal, he had day-dreamed of himself as being this or that person of importance in the community. He was a veritable Walter Mitty. Finally his daydreaming turned to overt

impersonating.

Using the savior faire he had acquired through the social contacts offered by his father's wide circle of friends, and apply-

PILOT

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27

ing his not inconsiderable flair for histrionics, he started to impersonate actual people in real l i f e situations. These impersonations allowed him to enjoy the status and esteem he felt he could never command as himself. Eventually his role playing got him into trouble. His involvements were such that even his influential father couldn't cover up. It was understandable that this young man should volunteer for one of the "status'' posts in our group. But before long, members found that some of the guards were in the know about what was being said in the discussion sessions. W h o was spilling the beans? T h e men's clandestine investigation soon brought the answer. T h e secretary, a model prisoner, had privileges as a trusty that took him into the offices used by the guards and other prison personnel. Here he had left the "highly classified" minutes lying around where the guards couldn't help but see them and, of course, read them. T o the group he pleaded

forgetfulness. But his

fellow prisoners, with

that

sharp perception of motives they so often displayed, brushed excuses aside and identified the unconscious drive behind his negligence. They told their secretary in most indelicate terms just how he was trying to make himself important in the eyes of the guards at the expense of the rest of them. A f t e r that, at the close of each meeting, the minutes were entrusted to the team social worker for safekeeping. So much for this sampling of personalities and backgrounds. C o m i n g back to our research objectives, w e wanted to find out how the men felt about society-at-Iarge. D i d they identify with the criminal or non-criminal elements of the outside community? striking differences became apparent almost

imme-

diately. First term offenders with no background of

Here

delin-

quency took one position; members who had served previous

28

RECIDIVISM

A DEFICIENCY

DISEASE

terms in penitentiaries or jails or who admitted to juvenile or adult delinquency, took another. T h e first offenders regarded themselves essentially as ordinary citizens who had had the misfortune to get caught in a temporary fall from grace. They resented being labelled criminal. Indeed they still thought of themselves as

belonging

to the respectable community in which they had lived

and

worked before arrest. It was obvious they did not identify with the "prison society" forced on them by the courts of justice. Rather, they struggled against f o r m i n g any kind of identification with their fellow prisoners. W e noted how eagerly these first offenders reached out for all possible contacts with acceptable representatives of the outside community. T h e s e included the members of our team, J o h n Howard Society visitors, the padres and other

'solid'

citizens permitted to enter the Penitentiary. W e observed too that while these contacts often increased their feelings of guilt and depression, the men seemed willing to pay this psychological price to maintain their valued identifications with the lawabiding segment of society. Both

first

offenders and

recidivists

believed

that

almost

everybody is a lawbreaker, actual or potential, and consequently that rules and sanctions are necessary to protect society from the weaknesses of its own members. But unlike the recidivists, the first offenders expected that a man who paid the price for his wrongdoing, whether through a fine or a term in prison, would be forgiven and accepted again by the community. Bitter if not overwhelming disillusionment lay ahead! T h e recidivists, on the other hand, were decidedly cynical. They looked

upon the non-criminal

segment of

society

as

being largely made up of people who hadn't been caught yet, or who could afford to pay the necessary legal fees, fines or bribes to keep them out of prison, or who were too d u m b to

PILOT P R O J E C T IN A P E N I T E N T I A R Y

29

recognize "a good thing" when they saw it, or who were too frightened to seize opportunities. These people, they felt, were largely hypocrites who would always treat unjustly those who had been unlucky enough to be caught and sent to prison. The recidivists saw themselves as apart from rather than a part of respectable society. And we noted a certain element of superiority in their attitude. This same superiority was expressed in more sophisticated terms by a British recidivist recently quoted in the London Observer: " I don't want to mix at all with people who have what might be called 'suburban pretensions' or respectability. They don't interest me: in fact, more than that, I don't like them. To me, it's much more interesting to be with a group of criminals. . . ." Our recidivists said they felt themselves to be members of the prison society and professed to abide by its special code of conduct. This code, they explained, is built around a concept of loyalty confined narrowly to fellow-members. One prisoner, for example, must never squeal on another. Prison authorities must never be appealed to in disputes between members. Members who commit offenses against other members are to be tried and punished by their peers. And the code applies outside the penitentiary after release just as rigorously as inside. The recidivists maintained they felt no great animosity toward the so called law abiding community but they admitted that its welfare was of little concern to them. Respectable society was there to be exploited and lived off by guile or force as circumstances dictated. Another question of interest to our team was whether the convicts had personality characteristics common to the group as a whole and differing in kind or degree from those of the average citizen. From the outset we had observed that all the prisoners in

30

RECIDIVISM

A DEFICIENCY

DISEASE

the group were self-centered to an unusual degree. Their concern seemed to be almost exclusively for their own needs and wishes. They would g o to unrealistic extremes in methods and means to get what they wanted or thought they wanted. This concentration of the attention of each upon himself was, w e felt, much more intense than would be observed in the average healthy

adult.

T h e men had in common, also, a lower-than-average ability to resist the universal tendency to regress to childish or even infantile behavior under the stress of sustained

frustration.

Under much less provocation than it would take to upset the average person, they would withdraw from their temporary friendly attachment to one or another of the team, would revert to sly, suspicious, aggressive behavior, and would impulsively act out their hostility in ways damaging to the group and to themselves. For example, if one member couldn't have his say in a discussion, he would be apt to clam up in such deafening silence as to put all the others on edge. Irritation would mount and within minutes the group would be acting like a group of children shut in on a rainy day. Members were also neurotically avid for praise of conduct they felt to be commendable. If by chance the praise meted out was felt to be not sufficiently effusive, the fat was in the fire. T h e offended member would retire into a sulk quite as devastating to group morale as the clamming up technique. Noticeably, members were more given to feelings of

fear,

anger and persecution than to guilt or remorse. W h i l e these patterns of behavior were common to the entire group, they were more clearly marked in our recidivists than in our first offenders. A s the sessions went on, w e were heartened to observe signs of some movement in the direction of emotional and social

PILOT

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PROJECT

IN

A

PENITENTIARY

in the g r o u p as a w h o l e .

f r i e n d l y and relaxed. W h e n

laughed

31

Members became at by

more

fellow-members

( o n e finds ready wit and h u m o u r in a p r i s o n ) , t h e r e w a s not the s a m e quick w i t h d r a w a l into s u l l e n n e s s . W h i l e c o n t i n u i n g to be contentious and over a n x i o u s for c o m m e n d a t i o n ,

they

w e r e b e c o m i n g better able to control t h e i r f e e l i n g s w h e n outpointed in a r g u m e n t or criticized. Their ability to tolerate frustration was increasing and we noticed that they were beginning to look a bit beyond their own needs even though they were far f r o m putting the welfare of others on a level with their own. A s time went on they were able to confess openly to hurt feelings in contrast to their earlier hardboiled bravado. On occasion they could speak of feeling both guilt and sadness. The first offenders admitted how painful it was to be cut off f r o m family, friends and all the minutiae of normal living. Earlier, when talking about the jobs they had pulled off and the bad breaks that had landed them in prison, they would boast that experience was the best teacher and that next time there would be no slip-ups. N o w the group began to think and speak of itself as being in some fashion distinct from the rest of the prison population. There were even signs of some identification with the non-criminal segment of society. Paralleling these and other gains, there would later be occasional wistful references to 'honest' work, freedom from fear of the law, and the security of

having

a place in community life. Certainly there was evidence that the walls of

loneliness

surrounding each prisoner were slowly being breached. EXTRA-MURAL GROUP In an unforeseen way the convicts provided further evidence that they realized they were gaining something of value

32

RECIDIVISM

A DEFICIENCY

DISEASE

for themselves from the study group. As they talked about their hopes for the future and the difficulties that would face them after release, they came upon the idea, entirely on their own, that an outside group modelled along lines of their inprison group should be started. Such a "post-graduate" group, they reasoned, would surely help them while they tried to find jobs and get back into the swing of l i f e outside. Our team was impressed. T h e proposal held promise that the modest gains made in prison might be extended after release. A n d it would also give us a much better opportunity to observe what conditions the men would have to contend with in their efforts to reestablish themselves. W e accordingly presented the proposal to the Executive Director and Board of the John Howard Society. They gave the plan full support and offered to sponsor such a group and to provide office space for meetings. Unhappily, a legal hurdle stood in our path at this point. An

outside group would constitute an association of

indi-

viduals and, under the Criminal Code of Canada at that time, ex-convicts were not permitted to associate with one another. Impasse! Again the John Howard Society came to the rescue. If the proposed group were to be given the status of a subcommittee of the Society's Board and had board member representation, and if it were to be defined as a "work

group

investigating the causes of recidivism," would not the penal authorities acknowledge and approve such an ingenious detour? Receiving a tolerant if qualified approval at official levels, plans for the outside group were completed. All members of the inside group were eligible for membership upon release. A n d the same professional staff that had organized and worked with the prison group agreed to continue to work with the men in this outside group. In view of the progress made by the men during the in-

PILOT P R O J E C T

IN A PENITENTIARY

33

prison phase of the study, we had hope that the outside group might actually give them some support although we realized the going would be rough. Finding any kind of a place to stay on leaving prison and finding work were big problems for all. Only a few had families or friends willing to take them in. Jobs weren't too scarce at the time but not many employers would even consider hiring ex-convicts. In spite of difficulties, however, all did find lodgings, some only through the good offices of the John Howard Society. And surprisingly, most found employment. Our devoted family man perhaps got the best break. His immediate family rallied around to get him reestablished in a business operated by relatives. Two of the recidivists also found suitable jobs. Others found work of sorts. For them any desirable job opportunities were hedged by bonding requirements they couldn't possibly meet. Some worked at wages so far below the going rates as to suggest that employers were exploiting them because they were vulnerable as ex-prisoners. Our information came mostly from the men themselves as they would arrive to join the outside group and to attend the weekly evening sessions. All were explicit in their stated desire to stay "legitimate," but to a man, they reported unpleasant incidents and bruised feelings in their encounters with the community-at-large. In this regard, the study group may have raised false hopes in the men. While still in prison, the psychological support afforded by the group discussions and the accepting attitude of the research team could well have encouraged the prisoners to think of the team as representing a community that was growing more interested, tolerant and willing to help its dissident members. Instead they were finding people hostile, uninterested, or, at best, inept at being helpful. Law abiding

34

RECIDIVISM A D E F I C I E N C Y

DISEASE

citizens were apt to cut them cold or fend them off as if they had something contagious. T h e authorities gave the impression they believed that "once a convict, always a suspect." Rebuffs, threats and slights seemed to outweigh incidents of goodwill, kindliness and intelligent concern. One interesting development was the thinly disguised shift in attitude of the men who were the first to find jobs. H a v i n g gained a measure of acceptance for themselves, they were reluctant to recommend other members of the group to their employers. A n d those w h o still hadn't found work

heaped

abuse on those who had for not helping them land jobs too. Even those whose performance at work was

satisfactory

and who had the backing of families suffered a loss in self esteem. Fellow workers would exclude them from the camaraderie of the production line, the horseplay of the lunch hour, the scuttlebut of the washrooms. Gradually the first offenders seemed able to surmount some of these barriers and to make a new circle of friends. Their attendance at the group meetings probably helped them during the difficult period of readjustment. A t the conclusion of the project it looked as though these men would be able to stay out of trouble. A n d later reports continued to be favorable. Turning to our recidivist members, we felt some cautious optimism about the two who had found suitable work. One of these, however, had an experience that illustrated how quickly personality factors could trip them up. Member L had found a job as a maintenance worker in an organization where he was well treated. H e liked the work and his employers were pleased with the way he handled it. Then one day he found a wallet containing $50.00. W i t h his big find practically burning his

fingers,

he hurried

straight

to his boss. Unfortunately, the boss did not comprehend the full magnitude of the incident. T o him, the turning in of

PILOT P R O J E C T

IN A P E N I T E N T I A R Y

35

lost articles was a worthy but routine procedure and so he wasn't over-effusive in his appreciation. But at that moment, Member L needed much more than a perfunctory acknowledgment; he needed immediate recognition of the moral grandeur of his act. And he needed praise, lavish praise, for his integrity. The commonsense consideration that his honesty would strengthen his hold on his job and might even bring him a reward from the owner of the wallet meant nothing to him at that moment. What mattered inordinately was that his deed could be taken so casually. Feeling grievously offended, he quit his job on the spot and walked out of the building in a towering rage. Somewhat cooled off but still feeling aggrieved, Member L came to the next group meeting to pour out his story and his feelings. Fellow ex-convicts, the representative of the John Howard Society, and members of our research team were quick to proffer needed praise. And as commendation and sympathy piled up toward the measure of his need, it was interesting to see how his bitterness toward "that numbskull super" shaded off into self criticism. Toward the end of the discussion he was sheepishly agreeing with another ex-convict member who told him he had been " a damfool to blow a good job over nothing." H e left the session determined to go back to his employer, apologize and ask for his job back. H e did so and happily was reinstated. Member L stayed with the group until it was disbanded. On several other occasions he stormed into sessions similarly ridden by a self created crisis and left with feelings soothed and reason again in the saddle. Follow-up reports from the John Howard Society indicate that he and his superiors have come to a mutual understanding. If he can continue to hold his job, he may be able to stay out of trouble. His chances, we feel, are the better in that he had not been delinquent as a youth.

36

RECIDIVISM

A DEFICIENCY

DISEASE

T h e probabilities were not so good for M e m b e r T , a likeable young recidivist. On release from St. V i n c e n t de Paul, he was warmly welcomed back, as he put it, by " t h a t

old

g a n g o f m i n e — d e l i n q u e n t , that is." H e told the gang about his new resolve to go straight. And he told them about the inside study group and his intention outside group. from

Their

reaction

rejecting M e m b e r Τ

to continue with

was one

for

with contempt

the

the books.

Fa