A European Perspective on Nordic prison systems and prison education, by Kevin Warner, Co-ordinator of Prison Education, Ireland.

Address to the Nordic conference on prison education, Tromso, Norway, 22-25 May 2008.

An adult education approach.

In the first part of this talk this morning, I wish to focus on two themes, which, as you will see, tend to blend together: firstly, the idea of adult education; and, secondly, how we see prisons and prisoners. Then, later, I want to offer some impressions of penal policy in Nordic countries.

But I begin with some poems written by prisoners in Ireland, from an anthology called Another Place (1). The first is by Robert Hendrick, who describes life in a shared cell in Cork Prison:

Home for the Time Being

I look around the cell, what do I see? Two pisspots in the corner, on the locker a T.V. On the wall is a shelf, with tapes and C.Ds. On the others there’s posters of Bob Marley And naked ladies. There’s a button too, we use as a bell. Oh! I almost forgot, there’s a stereo as well. There’s plastic cutlery, a bowl and a jug for our tea, Two chairs to sit on while we watch telly. We watch the box without a word. It’s only seven inches; sounds absurd. We watch the Premiership on a Saturday night, We watch films, a comedy or two, They cheer us up when we’re feeling blue. Our greatest fear as we sit in our chairs Is when that bloody line it just appears. For then we know the battery’s gone So we put on the radio and suffer on.

A shorter poem by Tony Clancy of Limerick Prison finds a way to move beyond the confines of prison:

Out

I walked to the door it was locked from outside. I walked to the walls they were all about. I walked to the window but couldn’t see out. So I climbed in my head and left myself out.

Kevin Lynch, a prisoner in Portlaoise Prison, is also elsewhere in his imagination, but he is brought sharply back to reality:

Sweet Dreams

All alone I dream of night time with you a cold winter’s night it is. I see your face of beauty smiling like the sun it warms me in this cold. I see our house our home then I’m in our room.

In my mind nothing has changed I see the picture on the wall with the baby in the basket. You have everything just right The scented flowers in the dish by the dresser and the water bottle in the bed.

As in life you have your side and I have mine. We slip under the covers and entwine in each others embrace. You say your feet are cold but nothing of you could be cold to me.

Then we settle your head is on my chest. With one arm and one leg across me. It seems so natural, so right I haven’t a care in the world and everything is quiet.

We drift into a beautiful lovers sleep. We are like dancers in the night You turn and I turn with you I turn and you turn with me then we are still, moulded together our spirit is one in the night.

Morning wakes us from our embrace the soul of day is echoed in your face I just lie and stare at you. The dribbles on your cheek and the look I love so much. My hand reaches out to you but you disappear, I wake up all alone again.

I would like to ask what is the point, the purpose, in teaching or facilitating people in prison to produce such poems? I want to stress two purposes that go beyond the gaining of qualifications, the preparation for work or the addressing of criminality, which are so often seen as the goals of education in prison. Firstly, I believe writing in this way performs a critical function in helping a person in prison to cope with imprisonment; it counteracts ‘the detrimental effects of imprisonment’, contributes in some way towards ‘normalisation’. Secondly, to be able to write a poem like that, then to see it in typed or printed form, must help develop the self-confidence, self-respect or self-esteem of the writer – an intangible benefit, but one that is critically important. I will return to the idea of boosting the prisoner’s self-esteem later.

Of course, these two purposes – helping prisoners counteract the negative effects of prison, and helping them develop in some way as people – can be achieved in many different ways. An adult education approach thinks in terms of ‘the whole person’ and advocates a ‘wide curriculum’, as recommended in the Council of Europe report, Education in Prison (2). So, virtually anything students may be interested in can serve these purposes. To take just one prison in the West of Ireland, Castlerea, the following subjects are among those offered: English, Literacy, Drama, Creative Writing, Art, Computers, Music, Yoga, Horticulture, Woodwork, Cooking, Health Education, Crafts, Stone and Wood Carving, Stained Glass, Leatherwork, Tiling, Mathematics, Business Studies, Computerised Accountancy, Personal Development, English as a Second Language, Haulage Licence course, Upholstery, Pre-release course and Debating (3). It does not matter, in a way, what is taught. What matters is what this teaching does.

I visited the prison here in Tromso two days ago. In a metal-workshop I was shown a most impressive miniature truck that had been made by a prisoner. I was told that this man had been very agitated and stressed when he came first to the prison, but that as he got into the task of producing this fine work he became calmer. No doubt his sense of himself, his self-esteem, grew also. This reminded me of a prisoner in one of our prisons who continually got into fights, but then found something he needed in art classes. His aggression declined and, as he said himself, in working on his art he found he got ‘cooler and cooler’. May not an openness to the interests and hidden talents of those in prison be more effective in reducing conflict than anger-management courses?

So, here are two ideas I feel I sorted out for myself many years ago: a concept of adult education, about which I will say more shortly; and an understanding that prisons damage people and that the job of all of us in prison work is to try to reduce that damage. Prisons are like surgery, necessary at times, but they really need to be used sparingly; and then, when used, the negative side-effects should be reduced as much as possible. That idea about prisons is central to Council of Europe thinking (4), and also very much part of Nordic penal policy. Both of these ideas have been strongly challenged in the prison world in recent times. The recognition that prison has detrimental effects is especially contested by the idea that ‘prison works’. However, I still hold firmly to both of my original ideas.

I want to say a little more now about what I mean by adult education. When I began teaching literacy to adults in Manchester way back in the 1970’s we were very influenced by work such as that of Paulo Freire (5), who held that all people have the right and potential to fully realise themselves, or to ‘liberate’ themselves as Freire would put it, to develop in their own unique ways. So, the teaching of reading and writing to adults was built on the learners’ own words, dialect and life-experiences. When their own thoughts and stories – whether written, tape-recorded or dictated – are set out in printed form, this validates their lives, it tells them that they are people with something to say. Just as it does for the writers in the anthology I drew from earlier; in such poems the writer finds another self, a self different from that of ‘offender’. So, literacy teaching is not mainly about skills, but mostly about self-confidence and self-esteem (6). Later on I read American adult education writers like Jack Mezirow, who speaks of ‘transformative learning’, education through which we radically change our view of ourselves and our world in a positive way (7).

I expect there are Nordic writers on education who similarly stress the central role of holistic personal development and the growth of qualities such as self-awareness, self- confidence and self-respect. For me it was wonderful to hear a leading person in the prison world speak of prisoners in this way too. Many years ago, also on a Sunday morning at the end of a conference (this time in Sigtuna, Sweden), I heard K. J. Lang, the long-time Director General of the Finnish prison service, describe how most prisoners were ‘socially and psychologically disabled’ and had been ‘deprived of all chances to develop and use what we can call their stronger parts’. He identified the needs of those held in prison in this way: ‘First of all prisoners/clients need to improve their self- confidence. Therefore all our efforts when organising correctional services should be analysed as to their ability to support, uphold and redress the self-esteem of the prisoner’ (8).

Thinking such as this lies behind the Council of Europe’s Education in Prison, which asserted that a wide curriculum, addressed to the whole person, should be offered to all prisoners. Yet, long before the Council of Europe adopted that perspective, it was articulated in 1931 by Austin MacCormick, a senior person in the Federal Bureau of Prisons in the USA. He said: ‘Education of prisoners is fundamentally a problem of adult education, taking the term in its European sense…We need to stress the normality rather than the abnormality of our prisoner-students, to try to apply standard education practice to the problem rather than to try to develop a special educational technique designed for the criminal’. MacCormick states: ‘education for adult prisoners has an aim and a philosophy. Its philosophy is to consider the prisoner as primarily an adult in need of education and only secondarily as a criminal in need of reform. Its aim is to extend to prisoners as individuals every type of educational opportunity that experience or sound reasoning shows may be of benefit or of interest to them …’ (my emphasis) (9).

The challenge from the ‘prison works’ approach.

MacCormick’s idea that we should stress ‘the normality rather than the abnormality of our prisoner-students’ finds many echoes in the very strong concept in Nordic penal policies which recognises that, since prisons damage people, we should (as well as using prison as a last resort) try to normalise things as much as possible within prisons. I first heard this idea put clearly by Henning Jorgensen of Denmark, and it found its way into Education in Prison , of which he was an author. The first ‘justification’ set out there for prison education is its capacity to help make prison a bit less abnormal (para.1.8). Likewise, when the European Prison Rules recognised (in 1987) ‘the detrimental effects of imprisonment’ and (in 2006) that prison should be used ‘as a last resort’, they were undoubtedly influenced by a deep tradition of such thinking in Nordic countries.

Such fundamental ideas were, for me, seriously offended by what I saw in Californian prisons when I studied there in 1995. I have some vivid and disturbing memories: rooms with over 90 women in tightly-packed treble bunks at the Los Angeles County Jail for women; men on very long sentences but having no activity housed together in an atmosphere of menace at the Federal Prison at Terminal Island, L.A.; more than 5,000 prisoners, over 400 of them on death row, crowded into San Quintin State Prison. Behind this reality were slogans such as ‘zero-tolerance’, ‘get tough on crime’, ‘three strikes and you are out’ and ‘prison works’, reflecting a radically different approach to prison. Mass incarceration in the United States now means there are over 2,300,000 in prison, or more than one for every 100 men, women and children in the country. Prisoners are demonised in public debate, and any understanding that prison itself may damage people is abandoned.

Then, in the late 1990’s, in both Britain and Ireland, we began to hear the same slogans, the same way of speaking about prisoners as if they were not human and not our fellow- citizens. Political parties began to compete with each other as to who could lock up the most people. In the General Election in Ireland in 1997, at a time when there were less than 2,500 in Irish prisons, the main party then in government proposed 1,000 extra prison places; the largest party in opposition trumped that by promising 1,500 places; and a small right-wind party spoke of 2,000 extra in prison! It was clear also that revenge, rather than rehabilitation or resettlement, became the main function of prison in this discourse.

Such changes in recent decades, at least in English-speaking countries, are described by criminologists as a ‘punitive turn’. They speak of a ‘culture of control’ and a ‘new punitiveness’ (10). Focusing on prisons, I see three main symptoms of this new disease: (i) a large increase in imprisonment, (ii) a greater ‘depth’ to imprisonment, i.e. worsened or more restrictive conditions, (iii)and a negative shift in the way people in prison are seen. So, I asked myself, where might they do things differently? Where might they do things at least half-right? These questions have led me here to your door in the Nordic countries. To put it more formally, my research question is: do the Nordic countries resist ‘the culture of control’, the ‘new punitiveness’? And, if they do, why?

Nordic penal policy: resisting, if not winning?

So, over the past couple of years, I have travelled to Denmark, Finland, Norway and Sweden, visited prisons and talked to key people within the prison systems and to some (like criminologists) who are outside these systems. I have recorded interviews with three of the Director Generals, and also with governors, people involved in administration and people with a responsibility for education in prisons. I have learned much, including many lessons that Ireland could apply if Ireland would but listen. A side-benefit has been gaining knowledge about your countries in general. So, for example, while attempting to study the Nordic approach to penal policy, I found myself spending two weeks last December in Sweden and Denmark and learned much about the Nordic approach to Christmas, discovering such wonders as julbord and glogg. But, of course, the core of my searching has been trying to get a picture of what has been happening here in relation to the three aspects I mentioned: the scale of imprisonment, the depth or content of imprisonment and how people in prison are seen.

When I met Nils Christie in Oslo I told him that the tentative title of my project was ‘Resisting the New Punitiveness’. He said to me, ‘we’re resisting, but we are not winning’, which may not be a bad summary of where Nordic countries stand generally. I told him that, as in football, a draw can sometimes be quite a good result. Given the political and social pressures towards punitiveness at my end of Europe, where neo- liberal policies are stronger, it would seem to me that to be able to hold on to the core qualities of your penal systems may be no small achievement. I do think that, overall, that is what is happening – there may be slippage in some places, but there is also positive progress in others. In relation to the three criteria I referred to above, the following is a summary of the assessment I would offer, trying to be as fair as I can and recognising that, in the end, one has to make some subjective judgements:

(1) The urge to incarcerate people is restrained, for the most part, with Sweden most at risk of detaching from the Nordic norm by significantly increasing the numbers in prison. Finland’s prison population is declining and Iceland remains the country least inclined to imprison in Europe. Norway, in its White Paper, aspires to reduce its prison population.

(2) The conditions or quality of imprisonment remains good overall. (One must accept Erlandur Baldursson’s statement that there is no such thing as a good prison, but some are worse than others, and relative to most other countries these aspects are good (11)). There is increased emphasis on security in Sweden and Denmark, leading to considerable increases in restrictions, but such tendencies are often balanced by positive developments, such as a drive towards more alternatives to prison or more education or a better focus on resettlement.

(3) People in prison are still generally seen as citizens, as members of the community or society, certainly as far as those running and working in the prisons are concerned – although in places some politicians do, it seems, at times speak of prisoners in terms that demonise them or do not recognise their humanity. Of the four countries I visited, Finland appears least affected by such negative images of people in prison, which may explain in part why its prison population is again falling.

For me, the third criterion, how we regard the people who are in prison, is in some ways the most critical and can be seen as the weather-vane that tells us how things will go. Sven Svensson wrote some years ago – ‘Do we have prisoners, or do we have citizens in prisons?’ (12). Several commentators believe this idea of seeing the person in prison as a part of society continues in Nordic countries because of the ongoing strength of the welfare state (13).

Qualities of the Nordic prison systems.

I want to turn now to what I see as the main qualities of Nordic prison systems, qualities which may be buffeted or under threat in places, but which seem to me to survive in general. I will highlight five. The first I will speak of is that of physical conditions. Many of you may take the conditions in which your fellow-citizens are incarcerated for granted, but you should know that they are vastly better than almost anywhere else. Of course there are old prisons and some dilapidated buildings, but generally there is one person to a cell (which is not something one can say of Ireland or Britain) and people in closed prisons are out of their cells for 12, even 14, hours a day (it is usually 6 or 7 hours in Ireland). (The conditions for pre-trial detainees are weak points in some Nordic countries and CPT reports have criticised these situations. However, my focus in this study has been mainly on sentenced prisoners). Activity, such as work-training and education, tends to be good. People eat together in what I presume is a civilized manner to a large extent, and increasingly cook their own food. (The norm in Ireland and Britain is that people are served all meals and only eat in their cells). Far greater proportions of prisoners in Nordic countries serve their sentences in open prisons than elsewhere, Denmark being the shining example with more than half of all sentenced prisoners at any one time being in open prisons, or between 80% and 90% of all who are given sentences serving them in open prisons. But, important though these matters are, it is the thinking behind the other qualities that I now wish to emphasise – thinking which may be under strain in places, but which is, to a large extent, holding up.

The second quality of Nordic prison systems that I wish to highlight reflects a matter I have emphasised already: the recognition that there are detrimental effects to imprisonment, that prisons damage people, so that a central task is to seek to minimise that damage through using prison as a last resort and modifying the impact if it is used. Sigrid Knap’s research, presented at this conference, adds to our understanding of this point, which holds true of open as well as closed prisons, although presumably the negative effects are usually greater in closed prisons. The Swedish Prison and Probation Service has (in English at least) expressed this principle most clearly over the years. The Prison Treatment Act of 1974 (1999 revision, section 4) states that prison treatment should ‘counteract the detrimental consequences of deprivation of liberty’. Aims and Tasks (1990) gives as the first ‘basic notion’ of the service the ‘least possible interference with the offender’s life’(p.4). The very first sentence of The Way Back (1996) says ‘the modern Swedish view is that, preferably, people ought not to be locked up’ (p.3). As late as 2002, a booklet, Facts about the Prison and Probation Service , states ‘the basic approach of Swedish criminal policy is that sanctions involving deprivation of liberty should be avoided wherever possible, since such sanctions do not as a rule improve the individual’s chances of re-adapting to a life of freedom’ (p.15) (14). (Of course, whether Sweden today takes full cognisance of such principles is another matter).

The six principles set out in Denmark’s Programme of Principles for Prison and Probation Work (1994) are perhaps the most comprehensive statement of this philosophy that I have found. Among the principles are ‘normalisation’, ‘openness’, the ‘exercise of responsibility’ and ‘least possible intervention’ (15). Some people in Denmark told me that they believe politicians generally do not know about these guiding principles, and that if they did many would not agree with them, but managers in the prison system, and possibly staff generally, certainly do know about them and the principles seem integral to their whole approach.

A third quality I wish to draw attention to is that a focus on resettlement (or rehabilitation, or treatment) appears very strong. I am more comfortable talking about ‘resettlement’, which sees the whole person, rather than ‘rehabilitation’, which tends to focus too much on the ‘offence’ or the ‘offender’ for my liking (16). But it is clear that in Nordic prisons considerable attention is actually often given to the time beyond the prison, and there are genuine efforts made to deal with the many problems prisoners will face on the outside, including housing, work, family, addiction, etc. In this context, may I draw attention to what I might call the Canadian variant of the punitive disease, not as virulent as the full-blown American version, but still, in my view, something to be wary of. I am thinking of an over-focus on what are generally classified as ‘programmes’ that seek to address offending behaviour. Two Canadian criminologists speak of their country’s prisons ‘operating under a liberal veil’ and taking ‘a punitive turn by stealth’ (17). Certainly that criticism seems justified in the light of Stephen Duguid’s story of how very successful university courses in the Humanities were halted in British Columbia in the early 1990’s by the Correctional Service of Canada, to be replaced only by courses that were deemed to directly address ‘criminogenic factors’ (18). If programmes such as those in cognitive skills, anger-management, addiction and so forth are genuinely voluntary, are offered on the same equal basis as other activities such as work-training and education, and are not replacements for these activities, then I have no problem with them. But my worry is that they can, as in Canada, be a means for seeing only the ‘offender’, not the whole person spoken of earlier in the discussion of adult education or envisaged, for example, in K. J. Lang’s outlook. Neither does this Canadian perspective face up to the fact that prisons are in themselves inherently ‘criminogenic’ through their ‘detrimental effects’. It seems that these ‘programmes’ have been very fashionable for a while among the authorities in some Nordic countries, but am I correct in detecting a more balanced approach today?

A fourth quality I want to identify is linked to the one I have just spoken about. It seems to me that in the Nordic countries generally the wider social dimension to prisoners’ lives is kept to the fore. The punitive trend narrows the focus just to the individual and his or her responsibility, ignoring the social factors involved in crime and in the chances for a successful resettlement. To return to K. J. Lang, he describes the reality of most prisoners’ background in a way many others in different countries have also done: the majority of prisoners, he says, ‘experienced domestic and street violence in their childhood, often as victims…are poorly educated and unskilled and have been unemployed for long periods or all of their lives. They live in sub-standard housing and have a wretchedly poor or deprived socioeconomic and family background’ (8). The logic of this awareness finds its way into the mission statement of the Finnish prison administration, which sets a goal of ‘supporting and encouraging convicts in leading a life without crime’, but follows this with another goal of ‘influencing society as a whole in order to make work with this orientation possible’ – I take this to mean they will try to get the person in prison to change, but will also look to society to adapt so that this is made easier; it is a two-way street in other words (19).

Are Hoidal, who was Governor of Oslo Prison when I met him, put the same point starkly when describing those in his prison, saying ‘80% of them need help’. Another Norwegian, Nils Christie wrote: ‘Prisons are filled with people in need of care and cure. Bad nerves, bad bodies, bad education – prisons are storing houses for deprived people who stand in need of treatment and education resources… if human beings are in prison to receive punishments, they ought to get a maximum of treatment to improve their general conditions and soften their pain. Treatment for crime has lost its credibility. Treatment has not.’ (Christie’s emphasis) (20). We have here, in other more elegant words, affirmation of the two roles for education in prison I tried to emphasise at the beginning – ‘improve their general condition and soften their pain’.

All the qualities of Nordic prisons listed so far are interlinked, and this also applies to the final one I wish to mention: prisoners are seen as citizens, as part of the rest of society. It is automatically assumed here that people in prison should be able to vote, but that is not how it is in many other countries. More importantly, the inclusive attitude to prisoners – strengthened by the Nordic welfare state ideal – means those men and women who are imprisoned are more likely to be seen as human beings like the rest of us, not as ‘monsters’, and this supports their treatment with dignity and more active efforts to help in their resettlement. In education, it means you start with the assumption that learning should be geared to personal development, not ‘a special educational technique designed for the criminal’. This brings us back to the wide curriculum, to the idea of education for the whole person which aims to support learners in growing as people, just as we would do in good adult education in the community.

I hope I have not painted too rosy a picture of prison systems in your countries. I have tried to fairly acknowledge the difficulties and the pressures that there are, many of which have led to things getting very out-of-hand in other countries, especially the English- speaking ones. But it is also important to recognise the strong qualities that you have, even if these are to some extent threatened. Do try to hold on to these qualities, for your own sake, but also as a model for those of us who have been obliged to travel a more negative road. I don’t know if it is fully true, but when I was at school we were told that, in the Dark Ages, when the Barbarians ravaged Europe and destroyed civilization, learning survived out on the western edge of Europe, in the monasteries of Ireland, and then in time spread back out from Ireland as the monks moved across Europe. In a similar manner, I would like to think that, if Nordic countries keep to their sane and humane penal policies in these difficult times, you may, from this northern edge of Europe, help the rest of us in the future to abandon the madness that has overtaken so many, and share with us your knowledge of how to deal with the troublesome in our societies in a wiser way.

NOTES.

1. Another Place: an Anthology of Prison Writing , edited by Jane Meally and Bernadette Butler (Department of Justice, Dublin, 2001).

2. Education in Prison , Recommendation No. R (89) 12 of the Council of Europe (Strasbourg, 1990). Download from www.epea.org.

3. What is taught in Irish prisons can be found in the Directory of Prison Education on the website of the Prison Education Service, www.pesireland.org .

4. European Prison Rules , Recommendation No. R (87) 3 and Recommendation No.R (06) 2 of the Council of Europe (Strasbourg, 1987 and 2006).

5. Paulo Freire’s most well known books are Pedagogy of the Oppressed and Cultural Action for Freedom (both Penguin Books, Harmondsworth, 1972).

6. A good explanation of the approach to adult literacy teaching envisaged here can be found in Guidelines for Good Adult Literacy Work: Policy Document of the National Adult Literacy Agency (NALA, Dublin, 2005). Download from www.nala.ie

7. Fostering Critical Reflections in Adulthood: a Guide to Transformative and Emancipatory Learning, Jack Mezirow and Associates (Jossey-Bass, San Francisco, 1990).

8. K. J. Lang’s talk is given in the report of the 4 th EPEA conference in Sigtuna, Sweden, Beyond the Walls (Swedish Prison and Probation Service, Norrkoping, 1993).

9. The Education of Adult Prisoners, Austin MacCormick (1931), republished by the National Society of Penal Reform, New York, 1951.

10. Criminological writing on punitive developments in criminal justice policy include The Culture of Control: Crime and Social Order in Contemporary Society, David Garland (Oxford University Press, 2001) and The New Punitiveness: Trends, theories, perspectives, John Pratt et al ((Willan Publishing, Cullompton, 2005).

11. See Erlandur Baldursson’s article, ‘Prisoners, Prisons and Punishment in Small Societies’ in Journal of Scandinavian Studies in Criminology and Crime Prevention, vol.1, pp.6-15, 2000. Iceland was not covered in my research, but this article gives a valuable insight into that county’s situation and approach to penal policy.

12. Svenolov Svensson, ‘Imprisonment – a matter of letting people live or stay alive?’ in Journal of Correctional Education, vol.47, pp.69-72, June 1996.

13. Criminologists who have written that the Nordic welfare state puts a brake on punitive tendencies in Nordic countries include Ulla Bondeson, in her chapter in John Pratt’s book, ‘Levels of punitiveness in Scandinavia: description and explanations’ (see 10 above), and also Flemming Balvig and Tapio Lappi-Seppala. In interviews for this research, Nils Christie and Thomas Mathiesen made similar points.

14. All the Swedish publications referred to in this paragraph have been published by the Swedish Prison and Probation Service, (Kriminalvarden).

15. A Programme of Principles for Prison and Probation work in Denmark (Ministry of Justice, Copenhagen, 1994).

16. For a critique of offence-focused work from an adult education and European penal policy perspective, see Anne Costelloe and Kevin Warner, ‘Beyond Offending Behaviour: The Wider Perspective of Adult Education and the European Prison Rules’ in In the Borderlands: Learning to Teach in Prisons and Alternative Settings, edited by Randall Wright (Correctional Education Association, Elkridge, 2006). Download from www.pesireland.org .

17. See ‘The liberal veil: revisiting Canadian penality’ by Dawn Moore and Kelly Hannah-Moffat in John Pratt’s book (see 10 above)

18. Can Prisons Work: the Prisoner as Object and Subject in Modern Corrections, Stephen Duguid (University of Toronto Press, 2000).

19. Mission and Short-term Policies of the Prison Administration and the Probation Association of Finland (Ministry of Justice, Helsinki University Press, 1999), p.5.

20. Limits to Pain, Nils Christie (Martin Robertson, Oxford, 1992), p.48.