Quick viewing(Text Mode)

The Politicized Prisoner Phenomenon

The Politicized Prisoner Phenomenon

ATTITUDES TOWARD , POLITICS, AND THE SOCIOECONOMIC SYSTEM: THE POLITICIZED PRISONER PHENOMENON

By

BARRY EDWARD CARTWRIGHT

•A. (honours), Simon Fraser University, 1975

A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL

FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIRE•

MENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF

MASTER OF ARTS

in

THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES

Department of Anthropology and , University of British Columbia

We accept this thesis as conforming

to the required standard

THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA

August 1983

fc^Barry Edward Cartwright, 1983 In presenting this thesis in partial fulfilment of the requirements for an advanced degree at the University of British Columbia, I agree that the Library shall make it freely available for reference and study.

I further agree that permission for extensive copying of this thesis for scholarly purposes may be granted by the Head of my Department or by his representatives. It is understood that copying or publication of this thesis for financial gain shall not be allowed without my written permission.

Department of Anthropology & Semiology

The University of British Columbia 2075 Wesbrook Place Vancouver, Canada V6T 1WS

Date 14 October 1983 ABSTRACT

This study was designed to measure the degree of prisoner politicization in federal in British Columbia, and to measure the association between prisoner politicization and exposure to the system. A random sample of sixty was obtained at three federal prisons in

British Columbia. The interview results were codified, analyzed by an SPSS computer program, and then reviewed extensively by the writer and the thesis supervisor before making a final de• termination of the degree of prisoner politicization.

Seventeen (28 percent) of the prisoners were found to be either moderately or extremely politicized. There also was evidence of nascent politicization among some prisoners who were not found to be significantly politicized. There was sup• port for the hypothesis that prisoner politicization is related to exposure to the criminal justice system, although not as strong as expected. Politicization appears to be related to both quantity of exposure (as measured by frequency of incar• ceration) and quality of exposure (as measured by usual level of security and length of sentence). - iii -

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

Chapter 1. INTRODUCTION 1

Chapter 2. CRITICAL : AN OVERVIEW

A. Introduction 14 B. Property Relations and Crime 19 C. The New 22 D. The State and the Criminal Justice System 25 E. A Brief Critical Perspective 28

Chapter 3. THE POLITICIZED PRISONER PHENOMENON: A BRIEF SOCIO-HISTORICAL ACCOUNT 43

A. The Politicized Prisoner: A Brief History 43 B. Racism and Prisoner Politicization 51 C. The Current Situation 54 D. Politicization and the Environment 58 E. Summary 62

Chapter 4. AND THE POLITICIZED PRISONER 67

A. Introduction 67 B. Attitudes Toward the Socioeconomic System 69 C. Attitudes Toward the Criminal Justice System 73 D. Attitudes Toward Predominant Cultural Values 75 E. Attitudes Toward the Power Structure 84 F. Attitudes Toward the Sociology of Law 87 G. Prisoner Programs for Change 93 H. Summary 99

Chapter 5. METHODOLOGY 107

A. Introduction 107 B. Studies on Prisoner Attitudes 108 [ - iv -

C. The Fairchild Study 112 D. Entry to the Field 118 E. Sampling Procedures 122 F. The Interview Schedule 129 G. Interviewing Techniques 139 H. Interpreting the Results 143 I. Summary 148

Chapter 6. FINDINGS 154

A. The Sample 154 B. Prisoner Perspectives on Crime, Politics and the Socioeconomic System 163 C. Overall Degree of Politicization 181 D. Politicization and Exposure to the Criminal Justice System 190 E. Summary 197

Chapter 7. CONCLUSION 200

A. Introduction 200 B. The Significance of the Findings 201 C. The Future Impact on Prisons 210 D. Other Related issues 215

E. Summary 222

BIBLIOGRAPHY 228

Appendix A - Interview Schedule 236 i - v -

LIST OF TABLES

Page

Table 5.1 Offence Categories for Prisoners in the Pacific Region Between the Ages of 20 and 30 127

Table 5.2 Present Offence(s) 128

Table 5.3 Politicization Indicators 145

Table 6.1 Age of Prisoners 155

Table 6.2 Present Offence(s) 156

Table 6.3 Length of Current Sentence 157

Table 6.4 Estimated Total Time Served in 158 Prison

Table 6.5 Usual level of Security 159

Table 6.6 Education level Attained 159

Table 6.7 Prisoners 1 Socioeconomic Status 161

Table 6.8 Parents 1 Socioeconomic Status 162

Table 6.9 Overall Degree of Politicization 182

Table 6.10 Prisoner Programs for Social 187 Change

Table 6.11 Prisoner Methods for Achieving 188 Change

Table 6.12 Degree of Exposure to the Criminal 193 Justice System

Table 6.13 Degree of Exposure vs. Overall 194 Degree of Politicization

Table 6.14 Length of Sentence vs. Overall 195 Degree of Politicization

Table 6.15 Usual Institutional Placement vs. 196 Overall Degree of Politicization ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

I wish to thank my thesis supervisor, R.S. Ratner, for all the time and energy he dedicated to this the• sis. Without his constant encouragement and constructive ideas, this thesis would never have been completed. The other members of my graduate committee were also instrumental in this regard. Professor David Schweitzer introduced me to critical criminology, and was the first to encourage my interest in pol• iticized prisoners. Professor J.R. 0'Conner showed a keen in• terest in the project, and made many valuable suggestions which were incorporated into the thesis.

It is impossible to mention all the people in the Penitentiary Service (now known as the Correctional Service of Canada) who helped with this study. The entire service was ex• tremely cooperative. I was given permission to conduct the re• search, allowed to interview prisoners in conjunction with my work-related activities, and given time off with pay to com• plete some of the research. I specifically wish to thank Brian Murphy, the Chairman of the Regional Research Committee, whose advice and assistance were greatly appreciated.

I must also thank my Aunt, Ruth Fisher, who typed the preliminary drafts of the thesis, and Edda Vick, who typed the thesis into the word processor at my office. Without their as• sistance, the thesis would have been unmanageable. Finally, I must thank my wife, Rosa Cartwright, for all her patience, un• derstanding, and encouragement. - 1 -

CHAPTER 1. INTRODUCTION

During the last decade, the phenomenon of the radi- calization or politicization of prisoners in the has attracted the attention of an increasing number of crimin• ologists and sociologists. Interest in this topic has gained impetus through the proliferation of relevant publications by social scientists, the publication of the writings of well- known "politicized prisoners" such as Eldridge Cleaver and

George Jackson, the findings of the State's Commission on Attica (1), and the development of left-wing criminology, known as the "new criminology" or "critical criminology." The intention of this thesis is to provide an historical and con• ceptual review of the politicized prisoner phenomenon, and to present the findings of my recent study, which was designed to assess the degree of politicization among a sample of Canadian federal prisoners, and to determine to what extent this polit• icization is related to recurring exposure to the criminal jus• tice system.

My attention was drawn to this subject by Erika Fair- child's paper entitled "Politicization of the Criminal Offen• der." On the basis of her dissertation research in three Wash• ington State prisons, she found that prisoners were becoming increasingly politicized, seeing themselves more as victims of an exploitive social order than as deviants, and that this poi- - 2 - iticization resulted largely from the prisoners' exposure to various aspects of the criminal justice system (2). Her find• ings lend support to the claims made by Pallas and Barber in

"From Riot to Revolution," wherein they argue that prisoner un• rest in the United States is becoming more politically motivat• ed (3).

Being a correctional caseworker in a Canadian maximum security prison at the time of reading Fairchild's paper, I was somewhat surprised by her statements about the perceptions of the U.S. prisoners regarding the political and socioeconomic system. My opinion, formed through extensive contact with Can• adian prisoners, was that prisoners generally tended to be a- political, or certainly not as politicized as she was suggest• ing. At the same time I had started reading some of the wri• tings of the new criminologists, although this was at that time unrelated to either my employment or my interest in the politi• cization of the criminal offender. With further study of crit- tical criminolgy and examination of writings by, or on, polit• icized prisoners, the research began to take shape, eventually resulting in this present thesis.

It is important to note that the thesis topic in• volves "politicized" prisoners, rather than "political" pris• oners. There are various definitions of a or political criminal. Two relatively recent articles, one by

Minor and the other by Schafer, offer some useful definitions.

Minor emphasizes that a must be "motivated by - 3 - political intent", and that it must be directed toward altering either the power relations or the public policy of the

(4). Schafer refers to political criminals as "convictional criminals," who are convinced of the correctness of their pol• itical convictions, and are willing to transform those convic• tions into social action, regardless of the consequences in terms of criminal sanctioning (5). Most definitions of polit• ical criminals include the elements of public dissent, social action, appeals to a higher ideal or morality, lack of desire for personal gain, and a view of political crime only as a means to a political end (6).

One might suggest that these definitions of political crime are not sufficiently concise. In "Offences Against the

State," Packer points out that defining all as "crimes against the State" would be quite meaningless (7). He argues that only those crimes defined by law as political crimes or offences against the state should be regarded as such, and goes on to list various examples, including treason, sedition, es• pionage, and advocating the overthrow of the (8).

The problem with such a narrow definition is that many criminal acts committed for purely political reasons could be excluded from this category simply because the government chooses not to recognize them as political crimes.

In any event, the subject of this thesis is "polit• icized prisoners" rather than "political prisoners". The "pol• iticized prisoner" is one who has undergone radicalization or - 4 - politicization following his incarceration for a conventional crime. As Fairchild puts it in her doctoral dissertation, "we have here what is essentially the case of the politicized pris• oner who did not commit a political crime but who has become a potent force because of his developing political consciousness"

(9). Basically, the politicization process involves a conven• tional offender who, through his exposure to political prison• ers and/or already politicized prisoners, comes to see himself as a political prisoner, and who believes that he is in prison because of his victimization by an exploitive political and socioeconomic system (10). This present thesis addresses it• self to this category of prisoner, and is concerned with the type of politicization whereby the prisoner adopts radicalized attitudes about crime, politics, and the socioeconomic system.

Later chapters are aimed specifically at reaching a more com• prehensive definition of a "politicized prisoner."

As mentioned earlier, many writers are keenly in• terested in the politicized prisoner topic. They are too num• erous to mention, but some of the more recent and prominent works are those of James Jacobs, Charles Reasons, John Irwin,

Stuart Brody, Martin Haskell and Lewis Yablonsky, and Gordon

Hawkins (11). However, with a few exceptions, such as John

Davis1 study on the attitudes of 150 black inmates (12), and the Fairchild study which was discussed previously, there has been a relative lack of empirical research on the topic. The majority of those who have an interest in politicized prisoners appear content either to discuss the writings of politicized - 5 - prisoners or to approach the subject from a theoretical per• spective. Given the absence of sufficient empirical work in this area, this present study seems worthwhile, particularly considering that there is very little information on the Cana• dian experience with the politicized prisoner syndrome.

Hopefully the present research will add a new dimen• sion to the study of politicized prisoners, not only because it is empirical and Canadian, but also because there are some in• dications that the phenomenon is experienced intensely by pris• oners in the United States. From their experiences as teachers in a maximum security prison in the , Stanley Co• hen and Laurie Taylor concluded that the prisoners with whom they had contact did not exhibit politicization comparable to that of U.S. prisoners (13). Mike Fitzgerald later observed that U.K. prisoners were becoming more politicized (14), but there is still no conclusive proof that they are as politicized as their counterparts in the United States. Similar observa• tions have been reported in Sweden, Denmark, and Ireland (15), but again, it is hard to equate the experiences of those coun• tries with those of the United States. This subject will be dealt with more extensively in Chapter 3.

There is evidence to suggest that prisoner politi• cization in the United States is a direct function of racism, both in the society and in its prisons, whereby blacks as a group begin to develop the consciousness of an exploited class, and whereby this consciousness spills over into other ethnic - 6 - groups (16). If this is true, then it could be unwise to gen• eralize from the experiences of U.S. prisons, because of the country's unique situation with respect to a large black popu• lation and the associated problems of racism. However, my re• search results contradict this notion that prisoner politiciza• tion is unique to the United States, as will be seen later in this thesis. The suggestion that prisoner politicization in the United States is a function of racism will be reviewed in much greater detail in Chapter 3.

The politicized prisoner phenomenon should be of cen• tral concern to criminologists or penologists who are interest• ed in prisoner attitudes and prisoner unrest. As Reasons puts it, "the politicization of inmates and their subsequent organ• ization and activities portend to be a significant facet of in the future" (17). This phenomenon has had an appreciable impact on U.S. prisons to date, as witnessed by the numerous politically-oriented riots and movements within the prison walls. Also noteworthy from a correctionalist perspec• tive is that this politicized prisoner syndrome may provide prisoners with a technique of neutralization (18), whereby they are able to imaginatively rationalize or justify their criminal activities. This problem is of special interest to Stuart Bro• dy, when he expresses concern about the conventional offender beginning to see his property offences as "a program of econo• mic redistribution" and to regard himself as "not the agressor but the victim " (19). This topic will be discussed again in the concluding chapter of this thesis, when the significance of - 7 -

the study's results are evaluated.

The politicized prisoner issue also fits well into

the subject area of the sociology of , and especially

into the radical or conflict-oriented traditions within that

subject area, as there is a tendency among radical criminolo• gists to regard prisons both as a microcosm of society and a battleground for the conflicts of the society. Pallas and Bar• ber suggest that "/American prisons are not only a microcosm of

American society, with its oppression and exploitation, but al•

so of the movement to transform that society" (20). Politi•

cized prisoners appear to view prisons in a similar light. Al•

fred Hassan, whose views are comparable to those of other poli• ticized prisoners, says that

While prison is unfit for human shelter and a cruel mockery of the human condition, it nonetheless provides an ideal atmosphere for revolutionary education. Nowhere in the so• ciety are the contradictions of the Govern• ment's system of justice so glaring as they are in prison. In prison, oppression and brutality are not camouflaged by the subtle trappings of political dissent and social concessions. (21)

Angela Davis summarizes the feelings of most politicized pris• oners and new criminologists when she says that the prison sys• tem may be seen as "a prominent terrain of struggle, both for the captives inside and the masses outside" (22).

Radical criminologists, then, see the prison as one of the principal areas in which social conflict is worked out. - 8 -

The politicized prisoner is of interest to a radical sociology of deviance because he is developing a radicalized political awareness or , coming to see himself as a victim of socioeconomic inequality and to see the criminal jus• tice system as a coercive apparatus in the hands of the wealthy and powerful. In other words, radical criminologists see pol• iticized prisoners as an embryonic revolutionary movement, a force whose potential is being developed by the stark reality of prison, where the battlelines between the rich and the poor are drawn more clearly. Although my findings indicate an ap• preciable degree of politicization among British Columbia pris• oners, they do not support the notion that prisoners are likely to become a powerful revolutionary force.

In The Sociology of Criminal Law, Robert Rich points out that "the sociology of criminal law is currently preoccu• pied with conflict theory. This is probably due to the fact that criminology has taken a radical or critical turn in theory building since the " (23). "Critical criminology," also referred to as the "new criminology," has been a motivating force behind these recent developments, so it seems important to grasp some of the essential features of this new school of criminological thought, particularly considering that critical criminology has evolved to a certain extent from the writings of politicized prisoners, and that the new criminologists have been actively engaged in stimulating prisoner politicization

(24) . - 9 -

Chapter 2 offers a brief overview of critical crimin• ology, to set the stage for the following chapters. As men• tioned above, it is difficult to consider the politicized pris• oner issue without referring to its impact on critical crimin• ology, and vice versa. Fairchild's study evolved from this background, as did mine to a certain ex• tent. Certainly the new criminologists are more active than others in defining and studying this topic area. Furthermore, some of the comments of the new criminologists are used in

Chapter 4 to develop ideal typologies of radicalized or politi• cized responses to the questions asked of the prisoners.

Chapter 3, The Politicized Prisoner Phenomenon: A

Brief Socio-Historical Perspective, places this subject in a social and historical context. Apart from a brief historical account, consideration will be given to the racism issue in the

United States, and information will be provided on the situa• tion in other countries, including Canada. At the end of the chapter, the views of the new criminologists and recognized politicized prisoners on the politicizing effect of prisons will be reviewed.

Chapter 4 deals with the perspectives of recognized politicized prisoners on a variety of topics, such as the ef• fects of on crime, the fairness of the criminal justice system, the acceptability of the political system, the makeup of the power structure, the sociology of law, and the types of social changes required. These perspectives then are - 10 - compared to those of the new criminologists, to establish the kinds of statements one should expect from a politicized pris• oner. The topical areas considered correspond to the attitu• dinal areas tested in my study, and therefore provide a yard• stick by which to measure the responses of the prisoners I in• terviewed .

In Chapter 5, an account is given of the methodology employed in my study. 60 randomly sampled prisoners at three federal prisons in British Columbia were asked a series of pre• pared questions regarding their attitudes toward crime, poli• tics, and the socioeconomic system. The data collected were analyzed by computer, and then reviewed several times by myself and the thesis supervisor before arriving at any final deter• mination of politicization levels. It will be seen that the present study is unique in terms of its subject matter, scope, and national origin, and that it can be readily distinguished from previous studies on politicized prisoners or prisoner at• titudes in general.

Chapter 6 reports the results of my study. Signif• icant levels of prisoner politicization were found, although perhaps not significant enough to justify critical criminol• ogy's expectation that the politicized prisoners will become a revolutionary force. The results also supported the second hypothesis, that politicization is related to exposure to the criminal justice system, although conclusions in this area are more tentative. Overall, the findings are somewhat similar to - 11 - those of Fair-child's study, and lend credence to some of the statements of the new criminologists regarding the politicized prisoner syndrome.

In Chapter 7, the significance and accuracy of the findings, are assessed, and their implications for critical criminology considered. Prisoner response patterns are com• pared to response patterns of the general public in a recent study on public attitudes toward the law in British Columbia

(25). Consideration is given to other related issues touched on in my study, such as the relationship between crime and so• cial class, and crime and social skidding. Finally, areas re• quiring further research are identified.

FOOTNOTES

1. Eg. Eldridge Cleaver, Soul on Ice. (New York: McGraw- Hill, 1968); George Jackson, Soledad Brother: The Prison Letters of George Jackson (New York: Coward-McCann, 1970); Attica: The Official Report of the New York State Special Commission on Attica (New York: Bantam Books, 1972).

2. Erika S. Fairchild, "Politicization of the Criminal Of• fender: Prisoner Perceptions of Crime and Politics," Criminology: An Interdisciplinary Journal, vol. 15, no. 3, Nov. 77, pp. 290-311.

3. John Pallas and Bob Barber, "From Riot to Revolution," Issues in Criminology, vol, 7, no. 2, Fall 72, pp. 1-16.

4. W. William Minor, "Political Crime, Political Justice, and Politicized Prisoners," Criminology, vol. 12, no. 4, Feb. 75, p. 390, p. 395.

5. Stephen Schafer, "The Concept of the Political Criminal," Journal of Criminal Law, Criminology, and Police Science, vol. 62, no. 3, 1971, pp. 384-5.

6. Cf. Marshall B. Clinard and Richard Quinney, Criminal Be• haviour Systems: A Typology (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1967), p. 179; Charles E. Reasons, "The Politici• zing of Crime, the Criminal, and the Criminologist," The - 12 -

Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology, vol. 64, no. 4, Dec. 73, p. 474; Richard Quinney, The Social Reality of Crime (Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1970), pp. 256-7.

7. Herbert L. Packer, "Offences Against the State," The An• nals of the American Academy of Political and Social Sci• ence , vol. 339, Jan. 62, p. 78.

8. Ibid., pp. 78-84.

9. Erika S. Fairchild, "Crime and Politics: A Study in Three Prisons," doctoral dissertation, University of Washington, 1974, p. 51.

10. Cf. Martin Haskell and Lewis Yablonsky, Criminology; Crime and Criminality, second edition (Chicago: Rand Mc- Nally, 1978), p. 538; also cf. Reasons, op. cit., p. 474.

11. James B. Jacobs, "Stratification and Conflict Among Pris• on Inmates," Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology, vol. 66, no. 4, 1976; Reasons, op. cit.; John Irwin, Prisons in Turmoil (Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1980); Stuart A. Brody, "The Political Prisoner Syndrome: Latest Problem of the American Penal System," Crime and Delinquency, vol. 20, no. 2, April 74; Haskell and Yablonsky, op. cit.; Gor• don Hawkins, The Prison: Policy and Practice (Chicago: Un• iversity of Chicago Press, 1976).

12. John A. Davis, "Justification for No Obligation: Views of Black Males toward Crime and the Criminal Law," Issues in Criminology, vol. 9, no. 2, Fall 74.

13. Stanley Cohen and Laurie Taylor, Pyschological Survival: The Experience of Long Term Imprisonment (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1972), p. 122, p. 146.

14. Mike Fitzgerald, Prisoners in Revolt (Harmondsworth: Pen- quin, 1977), pp. 119-20.

15. Cf. David A. Ward, "Inmate Rights and in Sweden and Denmark," The Journal of Criminal Law, Crimin• ology and Police Science, vol. 63, no. 2, 1972, pp. 240- 49; Tim Pat Coogan, On the Blanket: The H Block Story (Dublin: Ward River Press), p. 177, p. 238, p. 240.

16. Cf. Attica, op. cit., p. 16, p. 106, p. 141; Cohen and Taylor, op. cit., p. 145, p. 165.

17. Reasons, op. cit., p. 477.

18. Cf. Gresham M. Sykes and David Matza, "Techniques of Neu• tralization: A Theory of Delinquency," American Sociolog• ical Review, vol. 22, no. 6, Dec. 57, p. 666-69.

19. Brody, op. cit., pp. 100-01. - 13 -

20. Pallas and Barber, op. cit., p. 1. Cf. Barry Krisberg, Crime and Privilege: Toward a New Criminology (Eng1ewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1975), p. 24; also cf. Reasons, op. cit., p. 475.

21. Alfred Hassan, Maximum Security: Letters from 's Prisons, ed. Eve Pell (New York: Dutton, 1972.), p.229.

22. Angela Y. Davis, If They Come in the Morning: Voices of Resistance, ed. Angela Y". Davis (New York: Joseph Okpaker, 1971), p. 26.

23. Robert M. Rich, The Sociology of Criminal Law: Evolution of Deviance in Anglo-American Society (Toronto: Butter- worths, 1979), p. 53.

24. Cf. Robert Mintz, "Interview with Ian Taylor, Paul Wal• ton, and Jock Young," Issues in Criminology, vol. 9, no. 1, Spring 74, pp. 35-6; Krisberg, op. cit., p. 2.

25. Andy Wachtel, Carol Pitcher-LaPrairie, and Brian E. Bur- tch, "Public Images of Law in British Columbia: An Explor• atory Study of Views on Law Touching on the Family, Juven• ile Delinquency, and Livelihood," unpublished. - 14 -

CHAPTER 2. CRITICAL CRIMINOLOGY: AN OVERVIEW

A. INTRODUCTION

The goals of this chapter are to discuss the develop• ment of the new criminology,.paying attention to its relation• ship to the politicization of the criminal offender, and to re• view some of its tenets, in order to allow for a later assess• ment of the degree to which the attitudes of politicized pris• oners conform to those tenets. The scope of the new criminol• ogy is wide, and there are many contributors, so it will not be possible in this one chapter to offer an exhaustive account of the issues, problems or disagreements within the field. Simi• larly, there will be no attempt to offer a thorough critique of critical criminology, as others are presently occupied with this problematic (1), and such a critique would be of limited importance to the task at hand. However, a brief critical per• spective will be given toward the end of the chapter.

The new criminology (often referred to as critical criminology or radical criminology) has its roots in the Na• tional Deviancy Conference held in the United Kingdom in 1968; it was there that Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, Jock Young, Laurie

Taylor, Stan Cohen, and Mary Mcintosh began their rebellion against what they perceived to be the correctionalist attitude of orthodox criminologists, and began to explore alternative - 15 - explanations of criminal activity (2). Ian Taylor, Paul Wal• ton, and Jock Young spearheaded the attack of the new crimin• ology with the publication of The New Criminology (1973), which provides an extensive review and critique of the more orthodox trends in criminology, and with the publication of

Critical Criminology (1975), which presents various essays in a way that defines the parameters, objectives, and position of critical criminology. They have been joined in their efforts by many others, some of the more noteworthy being Richard Quin- ney, William Chambliss, Steven Spitzer, Tony Piatt, Barry Kris• berg, and Charles Reasons.

To define the objectives of critical criminology, it is necessary to examine several of its criticisms of mainstream criminology to allow for an accurate portrayal of its academic and political stance. To begin, the new criminologists unani• mously reject , pointing out that positivists (and orthodox criminologists in general) concern themselves only with those individuals who are officially defined by the state as being deviant; thus the criminal activities of the powerful are played down or ignored, while the criminal activities of the lower classes are emphasized (3). Positivists assume the existence of a general consensus regarding acceptable social behaviour, and then defend the acceptability of social control aimed at ensuring adherence to the assumed consensus (4). Es• sentially, the new criminologists say that positivism should be rejected because it does not challenge official definitions of criminality, and because it does little more than measure the - 16 - of members of the lower classes.

Critical criminology also asserts that because main• stream criminology has usually accepted the goals and policies defined by the state, it has failed to develop any significant or unique theories to explain the existence of deviance. In• stead, mainstream criminologists have preferred to avoid epis- temological or ontological questions, by concentrating on mea• surement and improvement of existing policies. In other words, the fundamental issues and values underlying the topic of dev• iance are ignored in favour of proposed solutions to short-term problems (5). As a result, the more orthodox trends in crimin• ology have adopted a correctionalist position, locating devi• ance in individual pathology, and addressing the problems of the individual, rather than the larger problems of social structure (6).

Above all, critical criminology is critical of main• stream criminology's failure to examine deviance within an his• torical, socio-economic perspective, because the importance of group interests, economic power, and are over• looked to a large extent (7). The New Criminology identifies various positive aspects of previous approaches to criminology, but these approaches—including theo• ry, social reaction theory, naturalism, phenomenology, and eth- nomethodology—are all considered unsatisfactory due to their omission of an examination of the wider, social origins of the deviant act (8). - 17 -

In the conclusion of The New Criminology, Taylor,

Walton, and Young outline what they consider to be the formal requirements of a "fully social theory of deviance." Essen• tially, they reject individualistic explanations of deviance

(based on biological or psychological explanations of why indi• viduals deviate), and opt instead for what they consider to be a fully social, , which is able to "explain the forms assumed by social control and deviant action in de• veloped " (9). Their requirements include a "politi• cal economy of crime," a "social psychology of crime," an ac• counting of the social dynamics that allow the individual to transform his beliefs or desires into action, a "social psy• chology of social reaction," and an understanding of the dev• iant's " reaction. . .to rejection or stigmatization" (10).

They modify this position to a certain extent in Critical Crim• inology and place greater emphasis on a political economy of crime, by stating that "it is now our position not only that these processes are fully social in nature, but also that they are paramountly conditioned by the facts.of material reality"

(11).

There appears to be considerable agreement regarding the prerequisites for participation in critical criminology.

Basically, there is a requirement to engage in praxis, a need to be actively involved in assisting those who are resisting the system "to move from resistance to liberation," and a de• mand for a commitment to the abolishment of socioeconomic in- - 18 - equality (12). Also important to mention is that critical criminology has become progressively involved in the develop• ment of a Marxist theory of deviance, employing Marxist method• ology to examine the production of deviance in capitalist soci• eties (13). In summary, critical criminology requires its mem• bers to be committed to social change (preferably toward a soc• ialist society), critical of a social system which is regarded as criminogenic, and active in the class struggle.

In Crime and Privilege, Krisberg points out that the new criminology is rooted in the writings of such politicized prisoners as George Jackson and Eldridge Cleaver (14). As Tay• lor, Walton, and Young put it, "the shift in deviancy theory towards a more radical or critical position was occasioned by a change in the political orientation of both middle-class prac• titioners and deviants themselves" (15). In keeping with their commitment to praxis, some of the new criminologists in the Un• ited Kingdom "formed an umbrella organization which would give a platform to the squatters, to Case-Con (the radical social workers), and, very importantly, to PROP, the prisoner's union"

(16). Working under the assumption that prisons were becoming a weak link in the apparatus of social control, they started coordinating and supporting political movements within the prison walls, in hope of exposing the political nature of soc• ial control in the Western societies (17).

Critical criminology's primary interest in the polit• icization of prisoners is connected to the priority which it - 19 - accords to the development of consciousness. According to Col• in Sumner, the new criminologists feel "that a deviation is a politically conscious act or a form of pre-political rebellion"

(18). Ignoring the traditional Marxian position that criminals are members of the and are of little value to a revolutionary movement, they have, as Jacobs describes it, placed the prison "at the center of radical politics" (19).

For the new criminologists, then, the politicized prisoner is an individual who is shedding his "," be• cause of his frontline position in the class struggle and his growing awareness of the exploitive nature of capitalist soci• ety. If the new criminologists are correct in this assumption, then we should find that the attitudes of politicized prisoners will correspond to at least some degree to the tenets of criti• cal criminology.

B. PROPERTY RELATIONS AND CRIME

In keeping with their sociological perspective, the new criminologists stress that the production of crime is lo• cated in the socioeconomic structure. Emphasis is placed on a conflict view of crime, with the conflict occurring between those with property and those without (20). Chambliss sum• marizes the position of critical criminology succinctly when he states that "criminal behaviour is. . .the inevitable expres• sion of class conflict resulting from the inherently exploita• tive nature of the economic relations" (21). In the class struggle between the propertied and the propertyless, the prop- - 20 - ertyless turn to criminal activity in order to gain property which is unavailable to them through legitimate channels, or simply in order to survive.

The general position of the new criminologists is that "members of the lower class. . .have the greatest proba• bility of being arrested and convicted" (22). Essentially, they cite two main reasons: firstly, the propertyless members of the lower class are more likely to commit crimes against property, and secondly, they are more likely to be criminal• ized, because they wield little economic or political power and their visibility lends itself to their easy arrest and convic• tion. While the new criminologists stress the existence of criminal activity among the wealthy, they point out that the wealthy are able to avoid prosecution, because their crimes are less visible and their economic power allows them to influence the outcome of any criminal proceedings brought against them.

As Chambliss puts it, "crime is a matter of who can pin the la• bel on whom, and underlying this socio-political process is the structure of social relations determined by the political econ• omy" (23).

From this perspective, property crimes are a re• flection of the inequitable distribution of the social wealth, and of the struggle for economic survival by the impoverished segment of the society. In Class, State, and Crime, Quinney presents a graph to show the relationship between impoverish• ment and criminal activity. The graph indicates that prison - 21 - admissions increase and decrease correlatively with the unem• ployment rate (24). Further evidence from a recent study of incarceration patterns in Manitoba, again coming from a radical criminology perspective, suggests that the incarceration rate increased by 74 per cent between 1919 and 1939, apparently as a result of the depression (25). Not only do property-related crimes far outnumber all the other categories of crime put to• gether, but the goods stolen in most of these crimes are indic• ative of the marginal existence of the perpetrators (26).

According to the new criminologists, the property re• lations in capitalist society are criminogenic, because those relations have created an impoverished class in an affluent society. To follow the argument through to its logical conclu• sion, the new criminologists would say that if property were distributed on an egalitarian basis, there would no longer be an economic need for involvement in criminal activity. The ob• vious answer (if we follow this line of reasoning) is social• ism, with its promised (27). Taylor, Walton, and Young summarize the position of critical criminology suc• cinctly :

With Marx, we have been concerned with the social arrangements that have obstructed, and the social contradictions that enhance man's chances of achieving full sociality— a state of freedom from material necessity and (therefore) of material incentive, a re• lease from the constraints of forced produc• tion, an abolition of the forced division of labour, and a set of social arrangements, therefore, in which there would be no poli• tically, economically, and socially induced need to criminalize deviance. (28) - 22 -

C. THE NEW SOCIOLOGY OF LAW

The sociology of law that stems from critical crimin• ology is opposed to the consensus model of law accepted by most mainstream criminologists. Instead of assuming that criminal law is a reflection of universal morals or wishes, the new criminologists stress the importance of conflict, power, and group interests as etiological factors in the formation of laws. In fact, the new criminologists assert that law is a powerful force in determining consensus, not that consensus is a force in determining law. As Carson says, "the enactment and enforcement of criminal law contributes substantially to social order through its powerful effect upon the operating consensus of reality in society" (29).

Critical criminology's main problematic with respect to the sociology of law is described concisely by Taylor, Wal• ton, and Young in The New Criminology, when they write that a

Marxist theory of deviance should "develop explanations of the ways in which historical periods, characterized by particular sets of social relationships and , give rise to attempts by the economically and politically powerful to or• der society in particular ways"—in other words, "who makes the rules and why?" (30). The solution to the problematic is con• tained within the above quotation: if we know who makes the rules (that is, "the economically and politically powerful"), then we should also know why those rules are made. - 23 -

According to Krisberg,

Criminal laws and systems of law enforce• ment exist to promote and protect a system based upon the conception of property, and these laws and systems of organized violence or coercion are thus linked intimately with those persons who possess the most . (31)

Quinney puts it more bluntly when he says that "the formulates criminal policy for the preservation of dom• estic order, an order that assures the social and economic heg• emony of the capitalist system" (32). If we follow the argu• ment of the new criminologists, a picture develops of a social order in which access to the formulation of criminal law is re• stricted to those with the wealth and power, and in which those in that position are able to formulate laws that protect their own interests (those being the ownership and control of private property).

The new criminologists have amassed a substantial a- mount of evidence to demonstrate the existence of unequal ac• cess to the formulation and interpretation of criminal law. In

Law, Order, and Power, Chambliss and Seidman point out that

"one fifth of the members of the United States senate are said to be millionaires." They go on to show that judges tend to be selected from the ranks of the economic (33). Quinney, in

Critique of Legal Order, reveals that the President's Crime

Commission in the 1960s was composed of wealthy lawyers and - 24 - businessmen; in fact, twelve of the nineteen members of the crime Commission had definite business and corporate connec• tions, with fifteen of them being lawyers (34).

In "The Law of Vagrancy," Chambliss offers an inter• esting historical application of this sociology of law. He submits that vagrancy laws developed in Fourteenth Century

England due to "changes in other parts of the social struc• ture." The plague had struck, causing a depletion in the cheap labour force, and this created problems, because "the economy was highly dependent upon a ready supply of cheap labour" (35).

From his analysis of the situation, he concludes that the va• grancy laws "were designed for one express purpose: to force labourers. . .to accept employment at a low wage in order to ensure the landowner an adequate supply of labour at a price he could afford to pay" (36). E.P. Thompson exposes a similar situation in Whigs and Hunters, by showing how the political and economic elite in Eighteenth Century England were able to create and enforce laws (specifically the Black Act) in order to advance their own political careers and to secure their rights to property (37). In both these cases, social conflict and socioeconomic forces were factors in the formulation of law, and members of the economic or political elite were able to introduce and employ these laws to protect their own inter• ests . - 25 -

D. THE STATE AND THE CRIMINAL JUSTICE SYSTEM

Another task of the new criminologists is to examine the role of the State in preserving the existing socio-economic order. In essence, the State is regarded as the primary arbi• trator of the class struggle, "maintaining social peace while promoting the capitalist social order" (38). By virtue of its underpinning in universal sufferage, the State appears to be both a product of societal consensus and an impartial mediator of class conflict (39), thereby masking its inherent interest in securing the of the capitalist system. Generally, the State attempts to secure that hegemony by depicting a sit• uation of consensus or common social interest, but when this fails, the State provides the necessary "legitimate" coercion to keep the system intact; it is the State's implementation of coercion which is of particular importance to the new criminol• ogists, and to this study.

In "Political Repression and the Liberal Democratic

State," Wolfe predicts that "the more unequal the distribution of the economic rewards of the society, the greater will be the chance that challenges will arise, which means that the use of state violence will be that much more frequent" (40). At a lat• er point in his analysis, he warns that "the ruling class is armed and dangerous" (41). This position is similar to Quin• ney' s, who asserts that the government, supported by its armed forces, "can now launch a full-scale war against its own peo- - 26 - pie," adding that "to protect the system from its own victims, a war on crime is being waged" (42). The sentiments of both writers are comparable to those of Piatt and Cooper in Policing

America, wherein the authors argue that the principal purposes of the police and the criminal justice system are to protect the wealth of the capitalists, and to suppress any insurgency which threatens the property relations of capitalist society

(43) .

In Policing the Crisis, Stuart Hall et. al. argue that the State, through its legal apparatus, is charged with the responsibility of disciplining the labour force, both by ensuring respect for private property, and by controlling the industrial reserve army (44). This is similar to Spitzer's ob• servation that one of the most important functions of the State is "the regulation and management of problem populations" (45).

A group joins the ranks of the problem population by refusing to submit to wage labour, the existing distribution of wealth, the ruling , or the socialization process. By crimin• alizing labour movements, political groups, and the non-disci• plined acts of the pool, the State ensures the existence of conditions which favour the survival of capital• ism (46) .

An argument could be advanced—based on fairly sub• stantial evidence—that this vision of the State and its social control function is somewhat one-sided or monolithic, because it ignores the role of the State in controlling the activities - 27 - of the capitalist class (47). However, the new criminologists contend that while antitrust, labour, or pollution laws appear to regulate the activities of the capitalists, they are actual• ly designed to reproduce the necessary conditions for the exis• tence of , by masking the glaring contradictions of an inegalitarian economic system, and by staving off mass dis• content (48). Furthermore, the new criminologists draw atten• tion to the many loopholes in these laws, and the relatively few prosecutions. Carson warns that "the emergence of criminal laws apparently antithetical to the interests of powerful groups is something which should be interpreted with consider• able caution" (49).

An example of this concern is cited by Clinard in The

Sociology of Deviant Behaviour:

The losses to the public of one crime of il• legal price fixing. . .committed by 29 lead• ing electrical companies in 1961 involved hundreds of millions of dollars, a loss far greater than the money taken in all burglar• ies in the country during that year. Yet for this crime 7 executives at the policymak• ing level were sentenced to only 30 days in jail; 24 others received suspended sentences. (50)

At the other end of society, however, it is not uncommon that a lower class individual will receive a lengthy sentence for com• mitting a crime involving less than two hundred dollars. The basic message is that the State tends to gloss over the crimes of capitalism (despite the fact that these crimes contravene legal statutes), preferring to concentrate on the criminal ac- - 28 -

tivities of the lower classes. As Krisberg describes it, "the

businessman indicted for tax evasion or embezzlement is likely

to be merely fined, given a suspended sentence, or placed on

probation; poor defendants. . .are sent to jail or prison for

crimes that involve considerably less social harm" (51).

E. A BRIEF CRITICAL PERSPECTIVE

As mentioned in the Introduction to the chapter, a

thorough critique of critical criminology is not essential to

the goals of this thesis. However, a few brief comments are in

order, as critical criminology is not without unresolved prob•

lems, nor have the new criminologists failed to recognize and

attempt to resolve these problems.

Critics often question the tendency of the new crim•

inologists to assume that crime would be abolished or greatly

reduced under a socialist system. Schichor says that "many new

criminologists seem to pay little or no attention to the analy•

sis of social control in societies which have embraced social•

ist or Marxist ideology" (52). He goes on to argue that "the

law and its enforcement in these regimes seem to be helping the

ruling class to maintain and increase its power even more than

in capitalist societies" (53), and adds that "the definition of deviance and crime remains in the hands of a small, closed rul•

ing class which has an exclusive grasp on the political power"

(54). As Downes puts it, "critical criminologists too often write as if imperialism was monopolized by capitalist socie- - 29 - ties, as if the tanks had never rolled into Prague or Budapest, as if people in capitalist societies were utterly dehumanised"

(55) .

There certainly is evidence to suggest that crime exists in socialist countries. In Revolutionary Law and Order,

Peter Juviler says that

even in contemporary Moscow thieves plague wealthier residents with well-planned bur• glaries. It is not uncommon for people living in an apartment house to have keys to the elevator, equip apartment doors with peepholes and double locks, chip in for some• one to run the elevator and lock and guard the door by 1:00 A.M. (56)

Although twice as many property crimes are reported in the U- nited States, there still were 245,300 convictions for property crimes in the in 1971 (57). Similar problems are faced in East Germany, where criminologists are concerned about the incidence of property crimes (58). While East German crim• inologists attribute this to West German "imperialism" or im• proper indoctrination, they are forced to admit that underlying crimes against property "is a subjective desire of the individ• ual to enrich himself contrary to the law of distribution ac• cording to performance" (59). Such evidence indicates that crime is not unique to capitalism.

In a postscript to a recent article, Jock Young re• plies briefly to Downes' accusation that the new criminologists seem unaware of the problems in socialist countries. He as- - 30 - sures Dowries that new criminologists are aware of "the human• istic achievement of Western societies ('under capitalism')" and the problems associated with socialism, and offers his art• icle as proof that the matter is under consideration (60). Es• sentially, his article rejects the notion that crime would au• tomatically disappear with the overthrow of capitalism and re• commends instead the transcendence of capitalism through a pro• cess which would preserve its humanistic achievements and other attractive features (61). It is not clear, however, whether his colleagues agree with his position (62).

Whether or not most new criminologists agree with

Young's position, the question of why crime would be abolished or greatly reduced under socialism remains moot. As discussed earlier in this chapter, the majority of new criminologists do direct their attention toward the criminogenic nature of capi- italism and the anticipated improvements under socialism. More information is required from the new criminologists on this point, unless they intend to discard the assumption that so• cialism is a desirable alternative. While they may argue that the countries usually associated with socialism are either not true socialist societies or are not fully developed (63), this does not obviate the necessity of a full account of the type of socialist society which would dramatically reduce crime and criminalization.

Another area open to question is the assumption that crime is related to social class (64). As seen earlier, two of - 31 - of the tenets of critical criminology are that crime results from the inequitable property distribution under capitalism, and that law enforcement is concerned mostly with criminalizing members of the lower classes. There is a current debate on this subject, instigated by Tittle et. al.'s study which con• cluded that crime is not related to social class, or at least not to the extent suggested by the new criminologists (65).

The study showed only a slight relationship between class and crime, a relationship which is becoming progressively less sig• nificant through the years (66). While elements of their study have been criticized by Braithwaite (67), the issue still re- mains unresolved.

This subject will be considered more thoroughly in the concluding chapter of this thesis, but it is worth mention• ing at this point that the results of my study and of Fair- child's study question the existence of a strong relationship between crime and socioeconomic status, although it should be kept in mind that neither study was designed specifically to test this relationship. Moreover, there are other studies which also challenge this traditionally accepted assumption

(68). If this relationship is to remain a cornerstone of radi• cal criminology theory, then further analysis and clarification of it by the new criminologists is indicated.

Also related to this issue is the notion that the law enforcement system is concerned largely with the criminaliza• tion of the lower classes. This too requires some modification - 32 -

in light of recent reports on law enforcement actions against

corporations. Clinard and Yeager, for example, report that the

number of prosecutions of large corporations is increasing, and

that penalties are becoming more severe (69). Posner points

out that there were 1,162 antitrust suits filed in 1974 alone,

whereas there were only 1,874 between 1937 and 1954 (79). He

also shows that maximum fines and sentences have been in•

creased, and that prison sentences are being imposed more fre•

quently (71) .

Snider observes that in the case of Canada, the dra• matic increase in the number of files opened under the Combines

Investigation Act has not resulted in a concomitant rise in the

number of convictions (72). However, she does concede that penalties are more stringent in the United States, and that en•

forcement is becoming more rigorous in certain areas of Canada

(73). Clinard and Yeager claim that radical criminologists are partially responsible for the increased enforcement action a-

gainst the wealthy and powerful (74). Cutting through all of

these observations and claims, the evidence appears to suggest

that the criminal justice system in North America is concerned with more than simply criminalizing the lower classes.

This entire issue relates directly to critical crim•

inology's view of the class nature of the law and its enforce• ment agencies. As noted previously, the tendency is to see the

law as a product of capitalist ideology, and the enforcement

system as the legal means to preserve conditions favourable to - 33 - capitalism. Whether it is unintended or not, a picture emerges of a monolithic legal order designed to protect the upper clas• ses at the expense of the lower classes. This picture tends to overlook the prosecutions of members of the upper classes, the evidence challenging the relationship between crime and social class, and the fact that the police spend most of their time directing traffic, settling family quarrels, or finding missing people (75). While not all radical criminologists subscribe to this monolithic perspective, many appear to.

Beirne attempts to dispel this image of radical crim• inology in his recent response to the various critics of this school. Beirne agrees that some "instrumental Marxists" see law as a reflection of ruling class interests, but adds that the majority of "structural Marxists" do not (76). In fact, he insists that structural Marxists see the law as relatively au• tonomous of the ruling class, and are quick to admit that leg• islation and law enforcement are routinely "at variance with the interests or wishes of certain fractions of capital" (77).

He concludes that

In order to acquire a modicum of legiti• macy for its economic position in produc• tion, the capitalist class is best served by a legal system which is constrained to present itself as the embodiment of the universal interest of the social formation rather than of particular interests within it. (78)

Issac Balbus takes a similar position in his article

" Form and Legal Form," where he rejects - 34 -

both an instrumentalist or reductionist approach which denies that the legal order possesses any autonomy from the demands posed on it by actors of the capitalist so• ciety. . .and a formalist approach, which > asserts an absolute, unqualified autonomy of the legal order from this society. (79)

Like Beirne, he sees the law as relatively autonomous (80), but

he goes a step further in linking the law to "the commodity

form" (81). He argues that both the "commodity form" and the

"legal form" function independently of "the will of the sub•

jects who set it in motion" (82), and that the legal form "cre•

ates a fetishized relationship between individuals and the Law

in which individuals attribute subjectivity to the Law and con•

ceive themselves as its objects or creations" (83). In his ar•

gument the legal form preserves capitalism by producing and re•

inforcing such illusions as equality or individuality (84), and

any inequality before the law results because "the systemic ap• plication of an equal scale to systemically unequal individuals necessarily tends to reinforce systemic inequalities" (85).

More efforts such as the above would be welcome.

Again, it appears that not all new criminologists subscribe to these refinements or modifications. Young, for example, at• tacks Balbus1 article by saying that he ignores certain facts, works under false assumptions, and "oversimplifies the nature of legal categorization" (86). A unified perspective on a ful•

ly articulated and refined sociology of law is yet to be formu•

lated . - 35 -

Schichor's statement that the new criminologists

"have made mainly pragmatic statements and generated little substantive empirical work" (87) may be partially true, but it is also somewhat unjustified. It should be kept in mind that critical criminology was in an embryonic stage in 1972. Des• pite its relative newness, various efforts have been made with• in this genre to substantiate its tenets. Chambliss' treatise on "The Law of Vagrancy" and Thompson's Whigs and Hunters apply a radical sociology of law to specific historical situations

(88). Similarly, Chambliss' comparative study of crime in Ni• geria and the United States, Hall et al.s examination of the

role of the media and the legal apparatus in Policing the Cri• sis , and Kellough et al.'s analysis of incarceration patterns

in Manitoba, all attempt to empirically validate certain claims of critical criminology (89). For that matter, Fairchild's study (90) and this present study could be seen as empirical efforts to evaluate critical criminology's understanding of the politicized prisoner issue.

This brief critical perspective does not do justice to either critical criminology or its critics. The issues are more complex, and have only been highlighted here. The views presented in the preceding sections of this chapter are a rough summary of opinions within critical criminology, and should not be regarded as representative of all new criminologists. In

fact, the parameters of the field lack definition. In The New

Criminology, for example, Taylor, Walton, and Young exclude - 36 -

Richard Quinney from the ranks of the new criminologists (91).

In a recent article, Young includes Richard Quinney, but re•

jects the left idealism of Quinney, Taylor, and Walton (92).

Positions within the field are evidently quite diverse, so any

criticisms do not necessarily apply equally to all new crimin•

ologists .

Returning to the claim of the new criminologists that

they have cultivated some of their ideas from the writings of politicized prisoners, we should then expect some noticeable

similarities between their respective positions. In Chapter 4,

an ideal typology is developed through comparison and synthesis

of the writings of both groups. This typology is then utilized

in assessing the prisoners' responses in my study.

FOOTNOTES

1. Cf. David Schichor, "The New Criminology: Some Critical Issues," The British Journal of Criminology, Vol. 20, no. 2, Jan. 80. This article reviews some of the tenets of critical criminology, and offers an excellent overview of many of the criticisms levelled against critical crim• inologists. The reader is also referred to Deviant Inter• pretations: Problems in Criminological Theory, eds. David Downes and Paul Rock (Oxford: Martin Robertson, 1979). The articles in this text provide some excellent critical perspectives on the new criminology.

2. Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young, "Critical Crim• inology in Britain: Review and Prospects," Critical Crim• inology, eds. Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975), pp. 6-7. Cf. Rob• ert Mintz, "Interview with Ian Taylor, Paul Walton and Jock Young," Issues in Criminology, vol. 9, no. 1, Spring 74, pp. 33-4.

3. Stuart Hall, "Deviance, Politics, and the Media,"Deviance and Social Control, eds. Paul Rock and Mary Mcintosh (Lon• don: Tavistock, 1974), p. 262; Tony Piatt, "Prospects for a Radical Critical Criminology in the USA," "Critical Criminology, eds. Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young - 37 -

(London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975), p. 96, p. 103; Barry Krisberg, Crime and : Toward a New Criminology (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1975), p. 13, p. 25.

4. Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young, The New Crimin• ology: For a Social Theory of Deviance (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1973), pp. 31-5; Charles E. Reasons, "The Politicizing of Crime, the Criminal, and the Criminolo• gist," The Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology, vol. 64, No. 4, Dec. 73, p. 471; Jock Young, " Criminology," Critical Criminology, eds. Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975), p. 64.

5. Stanley Cohen, "Criminology and the Sociology of Deviance in Britain: A Recent History and a Current Report," Dev• iance and Social Control, eds. Paul Rock and Mary Mcintosh (London: Tavistock, 1974), p. 35; Richard Quinney, "Crime Control in Capitalist Society: A Critical Philosophy of Legal Order," Critical Criminology, eds. Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975), p. 182; Anthony Piatt and Lynn Cooper, Policing Am• erica , eds. Anthony Piatt and Lynn Cooper (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1974), p. 2; Taylor, Walton, and Young, The New Criminology, pp. 19-21.

6. Taylor, Walton, and Young, "Critical Criminology in Bri• tain," pp. 7-13.

7. Taylor, Walton, and Young, The New Criminology, p. 255, p. 261; Cf. Steven Spitzer, "Toward a Marxian Theory of Dev• iance," Social Problems, vol. 22, no. 5, June 75, pp. 638- 9, and W. G. Carson, "The Sociology of Crime and the Emer• gence of Criminal Laws: A Review of Some Excursions into the Sociology of Law," Deviance and Social Control, eds. Paul Rock and Mary Mcintosh (London: Tavistock, 1974), p. 69, p. 71.

8. Taylor, Walton, and Young, The New Criminology, p. 130, 154, 169-70, 192, 205, 208.

9. Ibid., pp. 268-9.

10. Ibid,. pp. 270-76. They also state that it is not necess• ary for all of these requirements to be present for the theory to be fully social. (p. 277).

11. "Critical Criminology in Britain," p. 20.

12. Ibid., p. 23, 24, 28, 29. Cf. Jock Young, "Working Class Criminology," p. 86, 87, 90, 91, and Tony Piatt, op. cit., p. 105.

13. Cf. "Critical Criminology in Britain," p. 45, pp. 47-52; - 38 -

Spitzer, op. cit., pp. 641-43; Richard Quinney, Critique of Legal Order: Crime Control in Capitalist Society (Bos• ton! Little, Brown & Co., 1974), p. v, 15.

14. Krisberg, op. cit•, p. 2.

15. "Critical Criminology in Britain," p. 18.

16. Mintz, op. cit., p. 35.

17. Ibid., p. 36. Cf. "Critical Criminology in Britain," p. 18.

18. Colin Sumner, " and Deviance Theory," The Sociol• ogy of Crime and Delinquency: The New Criminologies, ed. Paul Wiles (New York: Barnes & Noble, 1977), p. 162.

19. James Jacobs, "Stratification and Conflict Amongst Prison Inmates," The Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology, Vol. 66, no. 4, 1976, p. 480.

20. Cf. "Critical Criminology in Britain," p. 26, p. 36, and Spitzer, op. cit., p. 639. This perspective adheres quite closely to the dialectical relationship articulated by Marx, wherein the capitalists and the (the propertied and the propertyless) are involved in an on• going struggle over scarce resources.

21. William J. Chambliss, "Toward a Political Economy of Crime," The Sociology of Law: A Conflict Perspective, eds. Charles E. Reasons and Robert M. Rich (Toronto: Butter- worth's, 1978), p. 193.

22. Richard Quinney, The Social Reality of Crime (Boston: Lit• tle, Brown & Co., 1970), p. 217. Cf. Anthony M. Piatt, The Child Savers: The Invention of Delinquency (Chicago: U. of Chicago Press, 1969, 1977). Piatt asserts that disproportionate numbers of imprisoned youth come from working-class and minority backgrounds" (p. 190).

23. Chambliss, op. cit., p. 206.

24. Richard Quinney, Class, State, and Crime: On the Theory and Practice of Criminal Justice (New York: McKay, 1977), p. 135.

25. D.G. Kellough, S.L. Brickey, and W.K. Greenaway, "The Politics of Incarceration: Manitoba, 1918-1939," The Cana• dian Journal of Sociology, vol. 5, no. 3, Summer 1980, p. 264.

26. Cf. Marshall B. Clinard, Sociology of Deviant Behaviour (New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1974), p. 48; on the basis of 1971 statistics on crime in the USA, he shows that there are 6,768.7 property-related offences per - 39 -

100,000 people, while there are only 419.4 other offences (including rape, murder, or assault) per 100,000 people.

27. For example, see Richard Quinney, Critique of Legal Order: Crime Control in Capitalist Society, p. 16; he asserts that "only with the building of a socialist society will there be a world without the need for crime control." Chambliss, in "Toward a Political Economy of Crime," also indicates that the crime rate can be expected to be much lower in a socialist society (p. 194).

28. The New Criminology, p. 270.

29. Carson, op. cit., p. 71. Cf. Quinney, Critique of Legal Order, p. 154.

30. The New Criminology, p. 220.

31. Krisberg, op. cit., p. 13.

32. Quinney, Critique of Legal Order, p. 59.

33. William J. Chambliss and Robert B. Seidman, Law, Order, and Power (Reading, Mass.: Addison-Wesley, 1971). p. 67, p. 96. Cf. Piatt, The Child Savers, p. 77, pp. 92-8. Piatt is able to substantiate the elite backgrounds of those who became involved in the "child saving" movement.

34. Critique of Legal Order, pp. 61-6.

35. William J. Chambliss, "The Law of Vagrancy," Crime and the Legal Process (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1969), p. 53.

36. Ibid., p. 54.

37. E. P. Thompson, Whigs and Hunters: The Origin of the Black Act (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1975, 1977), pp. 261-3.

38. Quinney, Class, State, and Crime, p. 82. Cf. Stuart Hall, Chas. Critcher, Tony Jefferson, John Clarke, and Brian Roberts, Policing the Crisis: Mugging, the State, and Law and Order (London: MacMillan, 1978), p. 197.

39. Hall et. al., op. cit., p. 206.

40. Alan Wolfe, "Political Repression and the Liberal Demo• cratic State," Monthly Review, vol. 23, no. 7, Dec. 71, p. 23.

41. Ibid., p. 34.

42. Quinney, Critique of Legal Order, pp. 131-2.

43. Piatt and Cooper, op. cit., pp. 91-2, p. 120. - 40 -

44. Hall et. al., op. cit., p. 202.

45. Spitzer, p. 642, p. 644. Cf. Quinney, Class, State, and Crime, p. 131.

46. Cf. Hall et. al., op. cit., p. 224, p. 264, pp. 284-5.

47. For example, see Marshall B. Clinard and Peter C. Yeager, ": Issues in Research," Criminology: An Interdisciplinary Journal, vol. 16, no. 2, Aug. 78; pp. 255-6. For theoretical exegeses of the structuralist ar• gument, see Nicos Poulantzas, Political Power and Social Classes (London: Books^ 1983).

48. Cf. Chambliss and Seidman, Law, Order, and Power, p. 96; Carson, op. cit., pp. 73-5; Quinney, The Social Reality of Crime, pp. 74-7.

49. Carson, op. cit., p. 75. Cf. D. Laureen Snider, "Corporate Crime in Canada: A Preliminary Report," Canadian Journal of Criminology, vol. 20, no. 2, April 78, p. 149.

50. Clinard, The Sociology of Deviant Behaviour, p. 350. Cf. Snider, op~. cit., pp . 156-57.

51. Krisberg, op. cit., p. 25. Cf. Joan Smith and William Fried, The Uses of the American Prison: Political Theory and Penal Practice (Lexington, Mass.: Heath, 1974). They state that "a Presidential Commission has estimated annual losses at more than $1.5 billion for fraud and embezzle• ment, or five times as much as is lost in conventional robberies" (p. 36). In 1965, white collar crimes cost $1,730 million, whereas crimes of the poor cost only $608 million; Erik Olin Wright, The Politics of : A Critical Analysis of Prisons in America (New York: Harper & Row, 1973), p. 29.

52. Schichor, op. cit., p. 10.

53. Ibid., p. 10.

54. Ibid., p. 11.

55. David Downes, "Praxis Makes Perfect: A Critique of Crit• ical Criminology," Deviant Interpretations: Problems in Criminological Theory, eds. David Downes and Paul Rock (Oxford: Martin Robertson, 1979), p. 9.

56. Peter H. Juviler, Revolutionary Law and Order: Politics and Social Change "in the USSR (New York: Free Press, 1976), p. 136.

5 7. Ibid., pp. 13 6-7.

58. Erich Buchholz, Richard Hartmann, John Leckschas, and Ger- - 41 -

hard Stiller, Socialist Criminology: Theoretical and Meth• odological Foundations, trans. Ewald Osers (England: Sax• on, 1974), p. 31, p. 159, p. 293.

59. Ibid., p. 293.

60. Downes, op. cit., p. 9; Jock Young, "Left Idealism, Re• formism and Beyond: From New Criminology to Marxism," Cap• italism and the Rule of Law: From Deviancy Theory to Marx• ism, eds. Bob Fine et. al. (London: Hutchinson, 1979), pT 28.

61. Young, op. cit., p. 18, p. 26., p. 28.

62. Ibid., p. 19, p. 26. In fact, he rejects the "left ideal• ism position," which he associates with Quinney, Taylor, Walton, and himself.

63. Cf. Schichor, op. cit., pp. 11-12.

64. Ibid., p. 3.

65. Charles R. Tittle, Wayne J. Villimez, and Douglas A. Smith, "The Myth of Social Class and Criminality: An Em• pirical Assessment of the Empirical Evidence," American Sociological Review, vol. 43, Oct. 78, p. 647.

66. Ibid., p. 647, pp. 648-9.

67. John Braithwaite, "The Myth of Social Class and Criminal• ity Reconsidered," American Sociological Review, vol. 46, no. 1, Feb. 81, pp. 36-47.

68. Cf. Samuel Yochelson and Stanton E. Samenow, The Criminal Personality, Vol. 1: A Profile for Change (New York: Aron- son 1976), p. 16, p. 128, p. 143.

69. Clinard and Yeager, op. cit., pp. 255-56.

70. Richard A. Posner, Antitrust Law: An Economic Perspective (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1976) , p~. 34.

71. Ibid., p. 28, pp. 32-3.

72. Snider, op. cit., pp. 148-49.

73. Ibid., pp. 156-7, p. 163.

74. Clinard and Yeager, op. cit., p. 259.

75. Cf. Clinard, Sociology of Deviant Behaviour, p. 354.

76. Piers Beirne, "Empiricism and the Critique of Marxism on Law and Crime," Social Problems, vol. 26, no. 4, April 79, - 42 -

p. 378.

77. Ibid., P. 379.

78. Ibid., p. 382-3.

79. Isaac D. Balbus, "Commodity Form and Legal Form: an essay on the 'Relative Autonomy' of the Law," The Sociology of Law: A Conflict Perspective, eds. Charles E. Reasons and Robert M. Rich ( ronto: Butterworth's, 1978), p. 74.

80. Ibid., P- 75, p.

81. Ibid., P- 75.

82. Ibid., P- 76.

83. Ibid., P- 83.

84. Ibid., P- 81.

85. Ibid., P- 79.

86. Young, op . cit., 25.

87. Schichor, op. cit., p. 12.

88. Chambliss, op. cit r Thompson, op. cit.

89. William J. Chambliss, "The Political Economy of Crime: A Comparative Study of Nigeria and the USA," Critical Crim• inology ; eds. Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975), Hall et. al., op. cit.r Kellough et. al•, op. cit.

90. Erika S. Fairchild, "Politicization of the Criminal Offend• er: Prisoner Perceptions of Crime and Politics," Crimin• ology: An Interdisciplinary Journal, vol. 15, no. 3, Nov. 777 Erika S. Fairchild, "Crime and Politics: A Study in Three Prisons," doctoral dissertation, University of Wash• ington, 1974.

91. Taylor, et. al., The New Criminology, pp. 253-57.

92. Young, op. cit., p. 19. - 43 -

CHAPTER 3. THE POLITICIZED PRISONER PHEN• OMENON: A BRIEF SOCIO-HISTORICAL ACCOUNT

This chapter will investigate briefly the history of

the politicization process in prisons, in order to demonstrate

the relative newness of this phenomenon, and to place it within

a socio-historical perspective. This will include an account of

the U.S. experience and the experiences of other countries. In

addition, consideration will be given to the opinions of recog•

nized politicized prisoners and outside observers regarding the

impact of incarceration on the politicization process, since

this is directly concerned with the second hypothesis being

tested by this research, that politicization is related to ex•

posure to the criminal justice system.

A. THE POLITICIZED PRISONER: A BRIEF HISTORY

Observers appear to agree that the politicized pris• oner syndrome and the politically-oriented upheavals in United

States prisons are a fairly recent occurrence. While there were prison movements in the 1950s, prisoners still accepted the le• gitimacy of the social order and their incarceration (1). Black

Muslims were active in recruiting members for their organiza• tion, but their political stance was separatist and nonviolent; they were concerned mostly with religious freedoms and racial issues (2). Like prison movements and prison riots in the past, then, prisoner concerns continued to be centred around - 44 -

small freedoms or better living conditions. As Mike Fitzgerald

describes it, "an important characteristic of prison revolts prior to the 1970s was the focus on prisoners' demands on grie•

vances within the prison system" (3).

By the late 1960s, Black leaders in United States prisons became interested in Marxism, and began to interact with White radicals; at the same time, the Chicanos were start•

ing to develop a strong ethnic identity (4). This was tied to the Civil Rights Movement and the social upheaval experienced

in those years (for example, the student protests, the demon•

strations, and the Movement) (5). Inspired by the paradigms of revolutions taking place in colleges around the world, and bolstered by the arrival of already radicalized prisoners drawn from the ranks of war resisters or minority ethnic groups, the shape of prisoner protest began to change

(6). The uprisings in 1967 and in 1970 reflected these changes, and are generally regarded as representative of the new, more politically-motivated prison movements (7).

By 1972, when The Official Report of the New York

State Special Commission on Attica was published, the politi• cized prisoner phenomenon was a fact of life in many U.S. pris• ons. While the Commission concluded that "the Attica uprising was neither a long-planned revolutionary plot nor a against the capitalist system," (8) it also observed that younger prisoners appeared to be more politically aware, - 45 -

and that many of these prisoners regarded themselves as "polit•

ical prisoners," as victims rather than criminals (9). In the words of the Commission: "many inmates came to believe that they were 'political prisoners,' even though they had been con• victed of crimes having no political motive or significance"

(10) .

Although much attention was given to notorious pris• ons such as Folsom, Attica, San Quentin, or Soledad, the polit•

icized prisoner phenomenon was experienced on a more universal

scale. In "Unionization Behind Bars," C. Ronald Huff describes the Ohio experience in similar terms:

The belief that they are 'political pris• oners' characterizes the conclusion drawn by an increasing number of our inmates. They are aware that the attributes which disproportionately distinguish them from the free citizens outside the walls are race, income level, and — not behaviour or mens rea (11).

Huff notes that other states, such as , North Car• olina, and New England, had comparable experiences, as evi• denced by the formation of prisoners' unions (12). Fairchild's paper, which was the inspiration for this present study, con• firms the existence of politicization in three Washington State prisons (13).

Across the Atlantic, Great Britain was witnessing a somewhat similar phenomenon. In 1972, the organization PROP

(Preservation of the Rights of Prisoners), spurred on by some - 46 -

of the new criminologists, began campaigning for improved pris•

oners' rights (14). On 4 August, 1972, PROP organized a nation• wide strike at twenty-three prisons, lasting for a twenty-four hour period (15). Among the prisoner demands were such polit•

ically-oriented items as a prisoner charter of rights (16).

However, it seems doubtful that this prisoner polit•

icization in the United Kingdom ever reached the proportions or

intensity experienced in the United States. Certainly U.K. prisons have not produced a politicized prisoner of the stature

of a Cleaver or Jackson, or at least not one who has received

the same international recognition. Cohen and Taylor, who

spent considerable time teaching in an isolation unit of a max•

imum security prison in Britain, noted that unlike the situa-

ation in United States prisons, "there are few common ideolo•

gical ties among the E-Wing type of prisoner and certainly

nothing like a common literature to provide collective motiv•

ations and justifications" (17). They observed that only a

small group of Blacks were even partially politicized, and only to the extent where they felt that sentencing judges discrimin•

ated against them on a racial basis (18). While isolation units

in the United States prisons had been the breeding grounds of

Soul on Ice and Soledad Brother well before the publication of

Cohen and Taylor's book, it seems that isolation units in Uni• ted Kingdom prisons were still much less affected by the polit•

icization phenomenon.

In Sweden, on the other hand, levels of political a- - 47 - wareness and political activity were higher in some ways than

in the United States. According to David Ward's study of pris•

ons in Sweden, the prisoners in Osteraker prison were surpris•

ed at the demands of the Attica prisoners, because most of the

areas of contention had been resolved in Sweden prior to the

Attica uprising (19). Ward explains that in Sweden, "reform is kept a national issue by KRUM, a well-organized group of some

5,000 ex-inmates, students, and " (20). As in the

United States and the United Kingdom, outside radicals were

taking a leading role in the prison movement, often using it as a platform from which to confront the political system:

Prison reform is an issue in Sweden be• cause important elements of the leader• ship of the national prison reform organ• ization KRUM, contend that improvement of prison 'conditions' and inmate rights is of secondary importance to using prison reform as a means of forcing confrontations with the political power structure (21).

The Danish experience is comparable to a certain de• gree to that of the Swedish. Like their Swedish counterparts, the Danish prisoners have a prison reform organization called

KRIM, which aligns prisoners and outside agitators against the power structure (22). However, KRIM's impact on the prison situation is quite marginal, because the liberal attitudes of prison officials and political leaders toward prison reform tend to defuse any prisoner unrest (23).

Although the strength of Scandinavian prisoners' un• ions may be indicative of some degree of political awareness - 48 -

and participation on the part of the prisoners (24), actual

evidence of the type of politicization exhibited by prisoners

in the United States is missing. KRUM and KRIM may in fact be dedicated to confrontations with the political power structure over prison-related issues, but the concerns of the prisoners may not extend much past demands for improved or more liberal

conditions in prisons. Scandinavian prisons appear to lack a few of the more crucial characteristics of prisoner politi• cization, such as riots accompanied by a list of politically-

oriented demands, readily observable radicalization among the prisoner population, or radical literature produced by politi•

cized prisoners. This might be attributable to a more advanced or sophisticated level of prisoner politicization, but more

studies are required before reaching any definitive conclu•

sions .

There are certain similarities between the Canadian

experience and those of the nations discussed above. Canada does have some outside agitators, such as Claire Culhane, who campaign actively for prisoners' rights (25). Furthermore,

Canadian prisons have had a few radically aware prisoners like

Rosie Douglas, who demonstrates his political leanings by his assertion that "ninety percent of those incarcerated come from

low income families and communities with many of the standard characteristics of neo-colonial underdevelopment. There is therefore a direct co-relationship between social class and penal incarceration" (26). - 49 -

Canada also has had its share of prison riots, par• ticularly in the 1970's, when Kingston Penitentiary, the B.C.

Penitentiary, and Millhaven exploded. Caution should be ex• ercised, however, in equating the riots in Canadian prisons with more politically-motivated disturbances in U.S. prisons.

Prisoner activity during the Kingston riot, which included the torture and execution of protective custody prisoners (inform• ers, sexual offenders, and others who require segregation from the main prisoner population), could not be regarded as indica• tive of political awareness (27). Furthermore, my personal ob•

servations during two riots at the B.C. Penitentiary in the

1970s were that the list of demands submitted by the prisoners tended to be related to personal comfort items such as trans• fers, psychiatric care, or drugs, rather than to such items as amnesty or political freedoms, and that the demands usually a- rose after the uprising, once negotiations with prison admin• istrators were under way. Desroches makes a similar observa• tion in his article on prison riots in Canada, noting that "in• mate demands arise only after the riot has begun and are there• fore not the cause of the riot, but rather function to help leaders justify and maintain power" (28). However, while evi• dence suggests that the post-riot demands of Canadian prisoners are contrived, again more research is necessary before making conclusive statements on the subject.

Similar caution should be exercised in equating Can• ada's more famous prisoners with recognized politicized prison• ers in the United States. Andrew Bruce, for example, is a well - 50 - known Canadian prisoner who has received much publicity as a

result of his participation in several hostage-takings. Howev•

er, his demands and the demands of others during the negotia•

tions, such as drugs, transfers, or improved privileges, have been clearly self-serving; these demands cannot be said to dem• onstrate any substantial degree of politicization. On the oth•

er hand, prisoner demands for "amnesty" at Attica or for the right to organize unions at Folsom were clearly politicized

(29).

Roger Caron, who is probably Canada's most well known prisoner/author, exemplifies this lack of radical awareness in his statement: "that is why I write letters to you, Judge, hop• ing to win your respect and your trust, for you are the people, and the people are the judge" (30). Information in the next chapter will demonstrate that a politicized prisoner would ar• gue that the criminal justice system represents the interests of the ruling class—not the interests of the people. Andreas

Schroeder, another Canadian prisoner/author, seems more con• cerned with describing the prison environment and its impact on him than with a critique of the society and its prisons (31).

Canada has yet to produce a George Jackson or an Eldridge Clea• ver—prisoners who were both notorious and politicized.

While prisons in various countries have experienced the politicized prisoner syndrome, it appears that none have had experiences comparable to those of the United States. Oth• ers have had prison disturbances, outside agitators, some pris- - 51 - oner politicization, and some politically-oriented demands, but not on the same scale as in the United States. This is not to

say that prisoner politicization is unique to the United

States. The evidence to the contrary, including the results of my research, is difficult to ignore. What this means quite

simply is that prisoner politicization in Canada has not reach• ed the same magnitude as in the United States.

B. RACISM AND PRISONER POLITICIZATION

One explanation for these divergences is that the large number of Blacks incarcerated in U.S. prisons have devel• oped a unique political consciousness as a consequence of their perceived exploitation by the White system. David Ward, in his study on Scandinavian prisons., observes that "charges of racism which prompt Blacks, Chicanos, and Indians in American prisons to contend that they are 'political' prisoners are not heard in

Sweden's all-white prison population" (32). As mentioned prev• iously, Cohen and Taylor arrived at similar observations re• specting the prisons in the United Kingdom, finding that only a small group of Blacks at Eccleston exhibited any vestiges of politicization (33), although this is possibly changing since the Brixton riots and subsequent outbursts of Black protest a- gainst ghetto squalor.

According to the Law Enforcement Assistance Adminis• tration's report on local jails, Blacks constitute approximate• ly forty-two per cent of the prisoner/population of the United - 52 -

States (34). Regarding capital punishment, Quinney states that through the years, fifty-four percent of those executed were

Black (35). To say that this is overrepresentative is somewhat of an understatement. In addition, Quinney points out another discrepancy in treatment: only forty-four percent of Whites were executed in keeping with their death sentences (the re• mainder had their sentences commuted), while in the case of

Blacks, fully sixty-two percent had their death sentences car• ried out (36). These statistics suggest that Black prisoners in the United States well might have some reasons to see them• selves as members of an exploited class.

Some might argue that the plight of the Canadian Na• tive Indian is similar to that of the American Black. Lane et. al., in their article "The Incarcerted Native," assert that

"Native People represent the largest single ethnic minority in

Canadian prisons, both provincial and federal" (37). Their survey conducted in 1977 demonstrated that incarcerated Natives

(like many Blacks in the United States) came from more impover• ished backgrounds than the Whites, and that Natives were "gen• erally less likely to receive probationary sentences" from the criminal justice system (38). However, they also found that at the time of the survey, only 800 Natives were incarcerated in

Canadian federal prisons (39). It is not surprising, then, that this small group of Natives has become neither as politicized nor as politically active as the Blacks. There is a tangible difference between constituting eight percent as opposed to forty-two percent of the prison population. - 53 -

John Davis, in his research on attitudes of Blacks

toward the criminal justice system, found that there was a higher crime rate among Blacks because:

the historical injustices inflicted upon blacks under the law in this country have produced a black consciousness which views the law as simply another instrument for upholding white supremacy. The law is not seen as an instrument for justice, and lit• tle if any stigma is attached to law viola• tion (40).

After interviewing a stratified sample of 150 Blacks, he con•

cluded that they felt that the system was set up to protect

White rather than Black interests, that there was unequal ac• cess to advancement, and that Blacks were discriminated against by the criminal justice system (41). It is not difficult to

see why Blacks have become a potent force inside the criminal

justice system, seeing themselves as a uniquely exploited class.

The importance of the Black influence in U.S. prisons cannot be overemphasized: to appreciate this, one has only to observe that virtually all well known politicized prisoners

(for example, Eldridge Cleaver, George Jackson, or John Clu- chette) are Black. The Black Muslims, the Black Panthers, and the Black Power Movement were all contributing factors to pris• oner politicization in the United States (42). In fact, it seems that Blacks were the first prisoners to develop a collec• tive political consciousness, and that through their interac- - 54 -

tion with Blacks, other prisoners, such as the Chicanos and

White radicals, began to develop along similar lines (43). Not

surprisingly, Fairchild's research on politicization in three

Washington State prisons revealed that Black respondents were

much more politicized than their White counterparts (44).

This does not mean that we should ignore the indic•

ations of politicization in the primarily White prison popula•

tions in Scandinavia, the United Kingdom, or Canada. As seen

earlier, they too have produced some politicized prisoners. It

is a question of degree more than anything else. There were

similar features, such as outside agitators, politicized de• mands, or prisoner organization, but these were more pronounced in the United States.

C. THE CURRENT SITUATION

To bring this brief historical account of the politi• cized prisoner to a close, it seems appropriate to consider the current status of the politicization phenomenon. This is par• ticularly true in light of statements by some observers indica• ting that this aspect of prison life is disappearing. Writing in 1980, John Irwin announced that prison administrators had made measurable progress in repressing political leaders and political activities, resulting in a decline in political par• ticipation on the part of U.S. prisoners (45). Currently, ac• cording to Irwin, "violence-oriented gangs dominate many, if not most, large men's prisons" (46). Both Irwin and Jacobs - 55 - have observed that prisoners are subdividing increasingly into

gangs, and that they are involved in inter-gang warfare centred

around gaining control of the prison economy (47).

If this is in fact the case, then one must question the relevance of this present study. The obvious questions

are: why examine and write about something which may have been nothing more than a passing fashion? What significance should be attached to a phenomenon which emerged and was nurtured by a

Civil Rights Movement born in the optimistic 1960s and now de•

clining in the more pragmatically-oriented late 1970s?

Without foreshadowing too much, I would submit that the results of my research in three Canadian prisons confirms the existence of a significant degree of politicization among the sampled prisoners. In my findings, seventeen of the sixty prisoners sampled were judged to be either moderately or ex• tremely politicized on the basis of their response patterns.

It must be admitted that the Canadian prisoners lack the pol• itical organizations and the eloquent politicized prisoners characteristic of politicization in the United States, but nonetheless, the apparent radical political awareness of the

Canadian sample cannot be overlooked. Given that my survey was conducted in late 1979 and early 1980, it would seem to be a hasty conclusion that the politicization phenomenon is dead, at least as far as Canada is concerned.

At least two possibilities come to mind to explain - 56 -

the politicization of Canadian prisoners in the face of the os•

tensible decline of politicization in the United States. One

explanation—the type which in my experience is commonly band•

ied about by Canadian prison employees—is that Canadian pris•

ons typically lag behind U.S. prisons, both in programs for

prisoners and prisoner awareness. This explanation cannot be

discounted totally, as it is conceivable that the politiciza•

tion revealed by my research is a late-blooming by-product of

the earlier situation in the United States. In this scenario, politicization in Canadian prisons would be the result of a

spillover from the United States, wherein Canadian prisoners have been affected by either direct or indirect exposure to U.

S. prisoners, or it would be giving expression to societal con•

flicts that are initially and more strongly experienced in the

United States.

The other explanation, which I find equally plausi• ble, is that while visible political activities of U.S. pris• oners have now been more effectively repressed, it may be that politicized attitudes are still prevalent among elements of the prisoner population. Unless we accept the idea that those at• titudes were extremely superficial, and therefore subject to rapid conversion, it is difficult to believe that they could be totally erased. In other words, it is possible that a signifi• cant portion of U.S. prisoners still retain a number of politi• cized attitudes. Of course this is purely speculative, as the lack of current research on the political opinions of U.S. prisoners makes it difficult to arrive at any substantive con- - 57 - elusions. If this is the case, however, then it explains why some Canadian prisoners are responding to survey questions in a politicized manner while politicization is ostensibly declin• ing in U.S. prisons.

Also in a speculative vein, it could be suggested that the politicization issue may be far from dead in the Uni• ted Kingdom, due to the activities of incarcerated members of the Irish Republican Army.. With IRA members demanding "polit• ical prisoner" status, it is feasible that the politicized prisoner phenomenon will be revived—if it actually requires revival—by conventional offenders who will again come to view themselves as political prisoners. Investigation of the atti• tudes of IRA members, and any dispersion of those attitudes a- mongst the general prisoner population, is an area of study that should not be neglected, particularly since it permits an• alysis of the ways in which political attitudes spread through• out the prison. Needless-to-say, only time will tell whether or not IRA demands for political prisoner status will have any appreciable impact on the manner in which conventional offend• ers see their incarceration (48) .

The future of the politicization phenomenon, then, seems uncertain, especially in view of evidence which suggests that it may have run its course in the United States, where it originated. It is conceivable that the politicized prisoner was nothing more than a product of a social movement—charac• terized by Civil Rights activities, campus rebellions, demon- - 58 - strations, and left-wing ideology—which also has disappeared to a certain extent in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Despite these indications, though, it is still too early to declare the issue passe. While 1972 was the year when politically-oriented prisoner activities were at a peak, there is no conclusive evi• dence that prisoners have abandoned radicalized ideation (in fact, my findings suggest that the opposite is true), or that there is no possibility for revitalization of the movement.

D. POLITICIZATION AND THE PRISON ENVIRONMENT

The new criminologists tend to see the prison as a potential "cauldron of revolutionary inspiration to those in the 'outside world'" (49). As discussed in the Introduction to the thesis, this tendency is linked to their view of the prison as a microcosm of society, a place where—because of the close quarters—the class conflicts of capitalism are laid bare for the exploited to inspect (50). Once behind bars, the incarcer• ated proletarian can (if we follow this argument) readily dis• cern the way in which the system controls the proletariat and protects the wealthy. The new criminologists emphasize that many of the well known politicized prisoners (Cleaver and Jack• son, for example) developed their radical perspectives as a di• rect result of their experience with the prison system (51).

Like the new criminologists, Fairchild also refers to the prison as " microcosm of political change" (52). Her opin• ion is that prisoners become politicized while in prison - 59 - through several channels, including the influence of other prisoners, participation in educational programs provided by the prisons, and exposure to or organization by, such groups as the Black Muslims (52). However, while her description of the politicization process seems plausible enough, there should be some hesitancy in accepting it completely, as she appears to have neglected an investigation of the process and its compo• nents. Instead, she assumes that prisons are the cause of prisoner politicization, and that the above-mentioned conduits are in fact the main components of the politicization process.

In the preceding history of the politicization phen• omenon, it was seen that the new criminologists and other rad• ical outside groups (for example, such organizations as PROP and KRUM) were involved integrally in heightening the intensity of prison conflict. As Irwin points out, these groups had a significant effect in convincing conventional offenders that they were political prisoners— against socioeconomic inequality (54). The influence of outside groups, then, is an important part of the politicization process, yet this part is not intrinsic to the actual prison environment; rather, it is implanted in the prison by outside agitators. This does not mean that the prison environment is incapable of politicization on its own, but rather it suggests that it may require other contributory factors to achieve significant levels of politici• zation .

In any event, recognized politicized prisoners appear - 60 -

to agree with the notion that prisons are largely responsible

for their radicalization. Wendall Wade, who was both a prison• er and a member of the Black Panther Party, says that "the prisons hold a wealth of resources for the struggle to liberate our communities; it [sic] is the training ground for the lum- penproletarians" (55). The "training ground" image is repeated by other politicized prisoners, including George Jackson, who

states: "I met Marx, Lenin, Trotsky, Engels, and Mao when I en• tered prison," (56) and Eldridge Cleaver, who declares that "it was not until I went to prison that I really began to expand my perspective" (57). The basic message is presented clearly by

Alfred Hassan:

Prison is where my education began in earnest, where I learned about the source of my (our) conflicts; and it is where I began to look at my his• tory and the history of other oppres• sed people in the world and how they set out to resolve their conflicts through the process of resistant strug• gle and revolutionary wars. (58)

Also apparent among the ranks of the politicized prisoners is some consensus regarding the factors in the pol• iticization process. One prisoner at Folsom Prison writes:

Political awareness pervades the very air here. Political dialectics are the common topics of conversation, replacing pimping, robbing, and hustling as the main interest. Frantz Faron, Mao Tse-Tung, Regis Debray and and Marx have replaced Louis La'mour and Max Brand. (59)

Cleaver's claims that his radicalization came in prison, "from - 61 - reading and talking to other convicts" (60), lend support to the above account of the process. It seems, therefore, that informal factors such as reading and daily interaction with other prisoners are as important as formal factors, such as ed• ucation or the influence of external groups, in raising the political consciousness of the prisoners.

Despite minor divergences in opinion, the view of politicized prisoners correspond with those of the new crimin• ologists regarding the radicalizing effects of prisons. As An• gela Davis explains it, the prison experience is causing the politicized prisoner to see prisons and the criminal justice system in general as "Key weapons in the state's fight to pre• serve the existing conditions of class domination" (61).

George Jackson epitomizes critical criminology's typology of a prisoner radicalized by the prison experience when he says that:

very few men imprisoned for economic crimes of passion against the oppres• sor feel that they are really guilty. Most of today's black convicts have come to understand that they are the most abused victims of an unrighteous order. (62)

In the accounts, then, of both the new criminologists and the politicized prisoners, we find the idea that incarceration is likely to make the "exploited" individual more conscious of his or her victimization by an unfair socioeconomic system. - 62 -

E. SUMMARY

As seen in this brief historical account, the politi• cized prisoner phenomenon is relatively new, but widespread nonetheless. While prisoner politicization is more evident in the United States, it also exists in the United Kingdom, Swed• en, Denmark, and Canada. Reports on the situations in coun• tries other than these are presently unavailable. Some obser• vers now talk about a decline in prisoner politicization, but insufficient proof has been presented to lay the issue to rest.

In sum, the politicized prisoners and the new crimin• ologists seem to agree that incarceration contributes to pris• oner politicization. Although the prisoners are less likely than the new criminologists to attribute their politicization to the impact of outside groups, the analysis offered by their leading figures suggest that the rise of critical criminology and the politicized prisoner phenomenon are interrelated.

FOOTNOTES

1. Cf. Mike Fitzgerald, Prisoners in Revolt (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1977), p. 199.

2. Cf. John Irwin, Prisons in Turmoil (Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1980) pp. 68-9.

3. Fitzgerald, op. cit., p. 213.

4. Cf. Irwin, op. cit., pp. 76-7.

5. Cf. Irwin, op. cit., p. 66, and Fitzgerald, op. cit., p. 199, p. 216, pp. 217-19.

6. Cf. John Pallas and Bob Barber, "From Riot to Revolution," Issues in Criminology, vol. 7, no. 2, Fall 72, pp. 10-11. - 63 -

7. Irwin, op. cit., pp. 84-8, Fitzgerald. op. cit., pp. 206- 9.

8. Attica: The Official Report of the New York State Spe• cial Commission on Attica (New York: Bantam Books, 1972), p. 105.

9. Ibid., pp. 105-06.

10. Ibid., p. 117.

11. C. Ronald Huff, "Unionization Behind vol. 12, no. 2, Aug. 74, p. 177.

12. Ibid., pp. 184-5.

13. Erika Schmid Fairchild, "Crime and Politics: A Study in Three Prisons," doctoral dissertation, University of Wash• ington, 1974, pp. 195-8, 199, 273-82.

14. Cf. Robert Mintz, "Interview with Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young," Issues in Criminology, vol. 9, no. 1, Spring 74, p. 36, Fitzgerald, op. cit., pp. 136-40.

15. Mintz, op. cit., p. 36.

16. Fitzgerald, op. cit., p. 152.

17. Stanley Cohen and Laurie Taylor, Psychological Survival: The Experience of Long Term Imprisonment (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1972), p. 122.

18. Ibid., p. 146

19. David A. Ward, "Inmate Rights and Prison Reform in Sweden and Denmark," The Journal of Criminal Law, Criminology and Police Science, Vol. 63, no. 2, 1972, pp. 240-1.

20. Ibid., P- 241.

21. Ibid., P- 251.

22. Ibid., P- 249.

23. Ibid., P- 249.

24. Ibid., P- 249.. 25. Cf. Claire Culhane, "The B.C. Pen: A Microcosm," Makara, vol. 2, no. 3, and Claire Culhane, "The B.C. Pen: A Re• sponsibility," Makara, vol. 2, no. 4.

26. Rosie Douglas, Penal Reform, Community Development, and Social Change: Overview from a Canadian Perspective (Mon- - 64 -

treal: Mondiale, 1975), pp. 1-2.

27. Cf. Fred Desroches, "Patterns in Prison Riots," Canadian Journal of Criminology and Corrections, vol. 16, 1974, p. 338.

28. Ibid., p. 344. Cf. Catherine Douglas, Joan Drummond, and C.H.S. Jayewardine, "Administrative Contributions to Pri• son Disturbances," Canadian Journal of Criminology, vol. 22, no. 2, April 80. The authors note that the riot at Kingston was sparked by a non-political incident, and that it occurred spontaneously, pp. 199-200.

29. Cf. Fitzgerald, op. cit., p. 211, p. 206-09.

30. Roger Caron, Go Boy; Memories of a Life Behind Bars (Tor• onto: McGraw-Hill, 1978), p. 260.

31. Andreas Schroeder, Shaking it Rough: A Prison Memoir (Tor• onto: Doubleday, 1976), p. 12, 22, 29, pp. 44-5.

32. Ward, op. cit., p. 243.

33. Cohen and Taylor, op. cit., p. 146.

34. Law Enforcement Assistance Administration, A Survey of In• mates of Local Jails 1972: Advance Report (U.S. Department of Justice, National Criminal Justice Information and Sta• tistics Service, Washington, D.C), p. 3.

35. Richard Quinney, The Social Reality of Crime (Boston: Lit• tle, Brown and Co., 1970), p. 186.

36. Ibid., p. 188.

37. E. B. Lane, H. W. Daniels, J. D. Blyan, and R. Royer, "The Incarcerated Native," Canadian Journal of Criminology, vol. 20, no. 3, July 78, p. 308.

38. Ibid., pp. 312-13.

39. Ibid., p. 310.

40. John A. Davis, "Justification of No Obligation: Views of Black Males toward Crime and the Criminal Law," Issues in Criminology, vol. 9, no. 2, Fall 74, p. 70.

41. Ibid., pp. 75-8.

42. Cf. Fitzgerald, op. cit., p. 217, pp. 218-19, and Irwin, op. cit., p. 68, p. 76.

43. Irwin, op. cit., pp. 76-9.

44. Fairchild, op. cit., p. 118, 120, 123, 124, 136. - 65 -

45. Irwin, op. cit., p. 147, pp. 151-2.

46. Ibid., p. 192.

47. Ibid., pp. 206-11; James B. Jacobs, "Stratification and Conflict Among Prison Inmates," Journal of Criminal Law Criminology, vo. 66, no. 4, 1976, p. 478.

48. Cf. Tim Pat Coogan, On the Blanket: the H Block Story (Dublin: Ward River Press, 1980), p. 177, p. 238, p. 240. He is not specifically concerned with prisoner politici• zation, but certain inferences may be drawn from his re• port. More will be said on this in the concluding chap• ter .

49. Terry L. Huston, "Prisons: A Marxist Position," Monthly Review, vol. 25, no. 6, Nov. 73, p. 33; Pallas and Barber, op. cit., p. 16.

50. Cf. Pallas and Barber, op. cit., p. 1, 16.

51. Cf. Krisberg, op. cit., pp. 82-3, and Charles E. Reasons, "The Politicizing of Crime, the Criminal and the Criminol• ogist," The Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology, vol. 64, no. 4, Dec. 73, p. 375.

52. Fairchild, op. cit., p. 327.

53. Ibid., pp. 273-82, p. 173-4. Cf. Irwin, op. cit., p. 64; Irwin also states that formal education in prison had an impact on the politicization process.

54. Irwin, op. cit., p. 96.

55. Wendall Wade, "The Politics of Prisons," The Black Schol• ar, April-May 71, p. 18.

56. George Jackson, Soledad Brother: The Prison Letters of George Jackson (New York: Coward-McCann, 1970), p~. 16.

57. Lee Lockwood, Conversation with Eldridge Cleaver (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1970), p. 79.

58. Alfred Hassan, Maximum Security: Letters from California's Prisons, ed. Eve Pell (New York: Dutton, 1972), p. 232.

59. Comrade Robert, Maximum Security, p. 223.

60. Lockwood, op. cit., p. 79.

61. Angela Y. Davis, If They Come in the Morning: Voices of Resistance, ed. Angela Y. Davis. (New York: Joseph Okpa- ker, 1971), p. 25, p. 29. - 66 -

62. George Jackson, Soledad Brother: The Prison Letters of George Jackson (New York: Coward-McCann, 1970), p. 26. - 67 -

CHAPTER 4. CRITICAL CRIMINOLOGY AND THE POLITICIZED PRISONER

A. INTRODUCTION

To assess the degree of politicization exhibited by the respondents in my sample, it is necessary to arrive at a definition and ideal typology of a politicized prisoner. To accomplish this I have examined the published writings of rec• ognized politicized prisoners such as Eldridge Cleaver, George

Jackson, Huey Newton, or Angela Davis, because these writings are regarded by the new criminologists as exemplars of the at• titudes or opinions of most politicized prisoners. In other words, it would be expected that a prisoner who is either pol• iticized or in the process of becoming politicized would have internalized some of the radical attitudes or perspectives es• poused by those above-mentioned prisoners who are recognized as being politicized (1).

During this examination of the writings of politi• cized prisoners, some excerpts from writings of the new crimin• ologists will also be offered, to compare their perspectives on crime, politics, and the socioeconomic system. This approach should enable us to establish whether or not the attitudes of politicized prisoners do coincide with the radical statements of critical criminology, and if so, to what extent this process of prisoner radicalization has gone. - 68 -

It must again be emphasized that this study specific• ally refers to those prisoners who are radically politicized.

While there may be prisoners who are politically aware or pol• itically active within more orthodox political traditions, they are not the object of this study. This does not mean that in• dividuals who are concerned with less radical politics are not at all politicized; there may be an appreciable number as com• mitted to one or more political as the radicalized prisoners who are the object of this study. This study, how• ever, is restricted to an analysis of the views of those indi• viduals to whom the "radical" label is usually applied; ie., who have views similar to those of George Jackson or Eldridge

Cleaver. Furthermore, since the purpose of this study is to test the assumptions of the new criminologists regarding the politicization phenomenon, it is essential to subscribe to their definition of a politicized prisoner.

This chapter will deal with the attitudes of polit• icized prisoners toward the socioeconomic system, the criminal justice system, the prevalent cultural values, the power struc• ture, the sociology of law, desirable social changes, and the methods for achieving those changes. The attitudinal areas un• der consideration correspond to the topical rubrics of my re• search, and therefore should serve as a useful reference when determining the levels of politicization exhibited by the re• spondents in my sample. The areas are treated here in the same order as in my interview schedule, and in Chapter 6, which re- - 69 - ports the results of this study. Apart from maintaining con• tinuity between chapters of this thesis, this arrangement should facilitate the comparison of statements made by recog• nized politicized prisoners and by the prisoners in my sample.

B. ATTITUDES TOWARD THE SOCIOECONOMIC SYSTEM

As will be seen in the following chapter on methodol• ogy, questions regarding the socioeconomic system were designed to evoke responses indicating levels of "class consciousness" among the prisoners in my sample. The term "class conscious• ness" is defined here as a radicalized awareness of the impact of the socioeconomic system, particularly on the lower classes, who—in this radicalized perspective—are disproportionately represented in the prison population. The purpose at this point is to identify the types of responses one might expect from a class-conscious prisoner.

The prisoner's ability to relate his personal situa• tion (educatonal attainment or family background, for example) to his incarceration was dealt with in Part II of the interview schedule (see Chapter 5 for further details on the structuring of the interview). The respondent was questioned regarding his feelings about his future prospects, in an attempt to uncover any nascent class consciousness which might not be evident in responses to later, more detailed questions (2). Jackson of• fers an excellent example of a politicized outlook toward the future, when he says that "for us it is always tomorrow; tomor- - 70 - row we'11 have enough money to eat better; tomorrow we111 be able to buy a necessary article of clothing, to pay that debt.

Tomorrow, it never really gets here" (3). The important ele• ments are that the prisoner recognizes that socioeconomic prob• lems never seem to resolve themselves, and that in light of this the future appears bleak.

The second set of questions (Part III of the inter• view schedule) pertained and dealt with the respondent's abili• ty to locate his position in the class structure. In describ• ing their position in the class structure of capitalism, par• ticipants in California's United Prisoners Union say that:

We as members of the convicted working class are twisted and mangled in the vise of a cruel system that cares little for human life. We are the last to be hired, the first to be fired. . . .In the widening class struggle in America, prisoners are the lowest of the low. We are wage slaves inside and out. (4)

The fundamental points here are that the prisoners recognize the existence of a class structure, and that they are able to identify their own position in that structure in very emphatic terms. A corollary of this recognition is their perception of themselves as a part of a larger class struggle. Such attri• butes should be regarded as evidence of a radicalized political awareness of the class system of capitalism.

Black prisoners seem particularly cognizant of their position in the socioeconomic hierarchy of the United States. - 71 -

Wendall Wade expresses the sentiments of many when he says that

"the overwhelming majority of the black prisoners arrive at their position because of the socioeconomic situation into which they find they have been born" (5). George Jackson brings the plight of Blacks into even sharper focus by stressing that they must cope with both racial discrimination and low socio• economic status:

We are a at the bottom of a , the only group that has built- in factors (physical characteristics) that prohibit any form of socioeconomic mobility. We are the totally disenfran• chised, the whipping boy, the scapegoat, the floor mat of the nation. (6)

Although one would not expect similar responses from the pri• marily Caucasian prison population in Canada, these expressions of class consciousness by Black prisoners are nonetheless symp• tomatic of politicized perspectives on the class system.

The final question in the attitudinal area dealing with class consciousness solicited information pertaining to the respondent's understanding of the link between property re• lations and crime. In Blood in My Eye, Jackson illustrates the the type of statement one might expect from a politicized pris• oner on this topic in his assertion that "crime is simply the result of a grossly disproportionate distribution of wealth and privilege" (7). This is comparable to Davis' opinion that "the occurrence of crime is inevitable in a society in which wealth is unequally distributed" (8). According to her, "the majority - 72 - of criminal offences bear a direct relationship to property"

(9). From the above quotations it appears that politicized prisoners believe that crime is caused or accentuated by large disparities in the distribution of wealth.

Perspectives of politicized prisoners on the socio• economic system and its effect on members of the working class are essentially identical to those of the new criminologists.

In Class, State, and Crime, for example, Quinney announces that

15 million people are "pauperized" in the United States, and adds that it is this pauperized "segment of the working class that readily turns to crime in the struggle for survival" (10).

He goes on to show the vast differences between the social classes, and points out that while the 15 million are strug• gling to survive, "1.6 percent of the population owns 80 per• cent of all corporate stocks and government bonds" (11). Piatt makes a similar observation with respect to juvenile delinquen• cy, saying that "disproportionate numbers of imprisoned youth come from working-class and minority backgrounds" (12). Quin• ney summarizes one facet of critical criminology's position well when he says that "members of the lower classes. . .have the greatest probability of being arrested and convicted" (13).

Considering the apparent agreement between the new criminologists and politicized prisoners on this topic, it seems reasonable to expect that for responses to questions on the socioeconomic system to be regarded as politicized, they should conform to an appreciable extent to the above comments. - 73 -

In other words, a politicized prisoner should be aware of the impact of social class on future prospects such as the poten• tial for upward mobility, and should be able to identify his position in the social structure with some accuracy. A truly radicalized prisoner should see his criminal activities as linked in some way to the property relations of capitalism.

Unless these elements are present in the response pattern, the respondent cannot be judged to be politicized in the sense that

Jackson or Cleaver would be seen to be politicized.

C. ATTITUDES TOWARD THE CRIMINAL JUSTICE SYSTEM

The next series of questions (Part IV of the inter• view schedule) solicited prisoner opinions on the fairness or impartiality of the criminal justice system. The questions were designed to obtain information pertaining to perceptions of e- quality before the law, with particular reference to any per• ceived class bias in the justice system. Once again, there is appreciable uniformity between the views of the new criminol• ogists and the politicized prisoners on this topic.

Davis1 position on prisons and the overall justice system is that they are "key weapons in the state's fight to preserve the existing conditions of class domination" (14).

This is much like Jackson's description of the police as "the local representatives of the oppressors," (15) or the assertion of the Marion Prison Collective that "the main function of prisons is to serve as the apex of social coercion within the - 74 - capitalist economy" (16). It seems that a radicalized pris• oner regards the criminal justice system as a weapon in the hands of the dominant class of society, used to oppress or con• trol the dominated classes. This sentiment is summarized well in the statement: "The pigs are not protecting you, your home, and its contents. The pig is protecting the right of a few private individuals to own public propertyli" (17).

Apart from feeling that the criminal justice system is a tool of the ruling class, politicized prisoners also bel• ieve that members of the lower classes are treated unfairly by the system. Jackson exemplifies this when he notes that "50 percent of all the people ever executed in the country. . . were black and 100 percent were lower-class poor" (18). Like others of the Black politicized prisoners, he also emphasizes that Blacks in the United States are treated more unfairly by the law than White members of the lower class. As he puts it,

"Blacks who attack property relations are slated for the grave• yard or the prison camp" (19). While this type of attitude to• ward the legal system may stem from racial problems in the U- nited States, the fact remains that politicized prisoners clearly recognize the class bias in the system.

In Critique of Legal Order, Quinney makes similar comments on this subject, saying that "the legal system is an apparatus created to secure the interests of the dominant class" (20). He reiterates this viewpoint more bluntly in

Class, State, and Crime, when he says that "capitalist justice - 75 - is by the capitalist class, for the capitalist class, and a- gainst the working class" (21). While Quinney's statement is perhaps more forceful than those of most critical criminolo• gists, virtually all of them share this view to a greater or lesser extent (22). Like the politicized prisoners, they feel that the purpose of the criminal justice system is to secure and preserve the exploitative socioeconomic system.

Chambliss, too, sounds much like the politicized prisoners when considering the question of equality before the law. He asserts that rich and poor alike commit crimes, but that only "members of the ruling class" can violate the law with impunity (23). As he puts it:

It is in the enforcement of the law that the lower classes are subject to the effects of ruling class domination over the legal system, and which result in the appearance of a concentration of criminal acts among the lower classes in the official records.

Although it could be argued that his perspectives are somewhat more developed than those of the politicized prisoners, the ba• sic message of socioeconomic inequality before the law remains the same.

D. ATTITUDES TOWARD PREDOMINANT CULTURAL VALUES

The third dimension of prisoner politicization (Part

V of the interview schedule) dealt with opinions regarding the - 76 - predominant cultural values. In the context of this thesis, the term "predominant cultural values" refers to components of the belief system or ideology which are attached to our type of society. The questions sought information on the degree to which respondents accepted concepts such as freedom, democracy, social equality, and . In other words, there was an attempt to guage the acceptance of "appropriate" ideolo• gy—the extent to which the prisoners agreed with or rejected what some might label "bourgeois ideology."

Descriptions offered by the politicized prisoners re• garding the North American political system plainly reject the notion of democracy. Cleaver describes the political system by saying that:

In the United States, we have what you call representative democracy, but it's pretty clear that the system is a rigged system. Even though it is called 'a gov• ernment of the people and by the people,' the people are not really in a position to determine what is going to happen. They do not control the decision making process. (25)

Jackson carries this rejection one step further, by comparing the American system to : "the definition of fascism is; a police state wherein the political ascendency is tied into and protects the interests of the —char• acterized by militarism, racism, and imperialism" (26). Both examples demonstrate the authors' feelings that the political system is not democratic, because it only represents the inter- - 77 - ests of a small segment of society.

Jackson's stance on the subject of freedom illus• trates what a politicized perspective might be: "you are free— to starve. The sense and meaning of comes through as a result of our ties to the wage. You must have it, without it you would starve or expose yourself to the elements" (27). He evidently dismisses the idea that we have free access to infor• mation, when he says that "'freedom of the press is for those who own one.' Even they are kept in line by economic pressure from above" (28). In each of these statements he adopts the position that any freedoms which we think we have are either limited or illusory, as everything ultimately is controlled by the economic elite.

Jackson's assessment of the existence of socioeconom• ic equality (or inequality) is equally instructive in determin• ing how a politicized prisoner might think. In discussing the allocation of his step-father's tax money, he says that it

is not being used to help you or others. You are getting no return on your invest• ment. . .it follows that if everyone pays, everyone should get proper returns. The street lights should be the same in Watts and Bel Air. It seems that some derelic• tion of duty has indeed taken place. (29)

Despite the possibility that his attitude is attributable to the unique position of Blacks in American society, it is ap• parent that for Jackson, equality is little more than a social - 78 -

myth.

Politicized prisoners also reject the notion of soc•

ial mobility. Wendall Wade, for instance, observes that "the

economic situation. .keeps minorities on the bottom as a mat

ter of historical course" (30). He develops his point further by posing what he evidently considers to be rhetorical ques•

tions :

What are we guilty of, 'economic crimes' or 'surviving?' In America they appear synonymous. What would one expect from a system that produces so much, but pro• vides no legal way for so many to obtain the rightful fruits of their labour? (31)

It seems that one reasonably might expect a politicized prison er to identify lack of mobility as one of the primary causes o property crime.

More explicit is an excerpt from one of Jackson's prison letters to his mother, when he tells her that

I don't blame you for not teaching me how to get what I want without getting put in jail, nor do I blame myself. I was born knowing nothing and am a product of my total surroundings. I blame the capital• istic dog, the imperialistic, cave-dwelling brute that kidnapped us, pulled the rug from under us, made us a caste within his society with no vertical economic mobility. (32)

Again, it could be argued that Jackson's views on the topic of social mobility spring from specific problems connected with - 79 - being a Black in the United States. Nonetheless, his statement that there is "no vertical economic mobility" clearly demon• strates his awareness of the difficulties in rising from the lower into the middle or upper classes, particularly for a

Black in the United States. While not all prisoners have had their class consciousness heightened as much as the Blacks, a reasonable criteria for categorizing any prisoner (White or

Black) as politicized would be that they are cognizant of the struggle involved in achieving social mobility.

The views of the new criminologists regarding ele• ments of the belief system associated with capitalism are somewhat similar, but much more developed than those of the politicized prisoners. This is particularly discernible in their ability to articulate the prisoners' more basic rejection of the predominant cultural values, and to achieve an overall critique of the role of ideology in maintaining the existence of the social order. (However, it is possible that this great• er concern with an understanding of belief systems or cultural values in all their complexity is to an extent a product of the role expectations placed on academicians. In fact, it could be suggested that their detailed concern with the subject is a product of their awareness of their own role in the production and dissemination of ideology).

A brief examination of a few excerpts from the writ• ings of new criminologists seems in order, to arrive at an un• derstanding of their views on the general role of ideology in - 80 - social control before moving on to the question of their accep• tance or rejection of such cultural values as social mobility or equality. Taylor, Walton, and Young offer an insight into the function of ideology in their comparison of the opposing versions of right and left wing factions:

Conservatives. . .will treat the belief in hierarchy and dominance as a consen• sus, where radicals will identify in that moral bind the false consciousness which is necessary to legitimate what is in reality an inequitable set of social arrangements. (33)

Their identification of "false consciousness" as a legitimating force in capitalism resembles Spitzer's observation that "popu• lations become generally eligible for management as deviant when they. . .call into question. . .the ideology which sup• ports the functioning of capitalist society" (34). Both exam• ples emphasize the importance of ideology in legitimizing the social order.

In his article "The Production of Criminology," Quin• ney expands upon this by arguing that criminologists themselves are one of the major transmitters of "bourgeois ideology":

Our work is in the sphere of the ideo• logical reproduction of capitalism. We are the workers in the colleges and the universities, in the criminal justice research agencies, and in the schools of criminal justice. The ob• jective task of the criminologist is to transmit bourgeois ideology to the working class as a whole, to ensure harmonious relations between the work• ing class and the capitalist class ac- - 81 -

cording to the interests of the latter. (35)

He contends that he and his colleagues "have a choice" between

"legitimizing the capitalist system" or engaging "in the class struggle for socialism" (36) leaving no doubt that he favours the latter alternative (37). His recognition of criminology's role in transmitting bourgeois ideology, and his rejection of that role, is sharply expressed and exceeds the levels of a- wareness demonstrated even by politicized prisoners.

The new criminologists concur with the politicized prisoners' dismissal of the idea that capitalism implies dem• ocracy, albeit in a more elaborate fashion. In his contribu• tion to Taylor, Walton, and Young's Critical Criminology,

Quinney asserts that

Contrary to the dominant view, the state is' created by that class of society that has the power to enforce its will on the rest of society. The State is thus a real, but artificial, political organization cre• ated out of force and coercion. The State is established by those who desire to pro• tect their material basis and have the pow• er (because of material means) to maintain the State. The law in capitalist society gives political recognition to powerful pri• vate interests. (38)

The basic message here is akin to Spitzer1s suggestion that "e- mergence of and the growing interpenetration of the political and economic spheres have had a number of im• plications for the organization and administration of class rule" (39). Both quotations emphasize the partisan role of the - 82 -

State, describe the system as "capitalism", underline the im• pact of economic power on the political system, and portray class rule. These perspectives show that new criminologists generally reject the notion that there is an affinity between capitalism and democracy.

The above statements also indicate critical criminol• ogy's position on the notion of freedom. When the new crimin• ologists talk about "class rule" or a "political organization created out of force and coercion," it suggests they see any

"freedom" as being circumscribed by the realities of the capi• talist social order. In fact, some of the new criminologists would say that our freedom is limited or shaped by idea con• trol. Cohen and Young, for example, state that the mass media

"provide the guiding myths which shape our conception of the world and serve as important instruments of social control"

(40) . Again, the stress placed on the importance of social control illustrates critical criminology's skeptical attitude towards the social "myth" of freedom.

During Mintz's interview with Taylor, Walton and

Young, Walton rejects the idea of equality when he discusses the "unequally distributed" property rights under capitalism

(41) , and Young expands upon this shortly thereafter, saying that "In a capitalist society, the establishment of one man's rights and decency will usually mean another man's degredation"

(42) . In "Toward a Marxian Theory of Deviance," Spitzer goes even further, asserting that "victimization is permitted and - 83 - even encouraged, as long as the victims are members of an ex• ploitable class" (43). All of the above observers, therefore, are unreservedly skeptical about the existence of equality un• der capitalism.

The new criminologists are equally dubious about the potential for social mobility. As Piatt and Takagi put it,

"the real value of workers' wages has declined severely. . .and the ranks of the unemployed and under-employed have grown by the millions" (44). They elaborate upon this, quoting Marx in their statement that

With soaring unemployment rates and welfare rolls, a persistently high level of inflation and a general at• tack on the wages. . .of the working class, there can be little doubt about the proposition that the 'accumulation of wealth at one pole is, therefore, at the same time accumulation of mis• ery. . . at the opposite pole.' (45)

Taylor, Walton, and Young comment similarly, in a succinct fa• shion: "More and more members of the 'proletariat' are being forced to live more and more on welfare" (46). None of these above statements offer a picture of widespread social mobility.

If anything, it seems that any mobility envisioned by critical criminology is of the downward variety.

In summary, the new criminologists side with the pol• iticized prisoners in their denial of the ideology of capital• ism. Ideas such as "democracy" or "social equality" are re- - 84 - garded by both groups as social fictions. The difference be• tween the new criminologists and the politicized prisoners is one of degree more than anything else, with the former more concerned about the role of ideology in reproducing capitalism, and their own role in producing that ideology. Consequently, for prisoners in my study to be classified as politicized, they should unambiguously reject some of the predominant cultural values.

E. ATTITUDES TOWARD THE POWER STRUCTURE

Part VI of the interview schedule is concerned with prisoner perceptions of the power structure. The respondent was asked to identify the power-wielders in the society, and to consider his own position in the power structure. The purpose was to find out whether or not the respondent viewed the power structure in a radicalized way. For a view to be judged as radicalized in this case, there should be recognition of the existence of a "power elite," and a conception of the degree of power exercised by that elite. In Marxist terminology, politi• cized prisoners should be aware of a "ruling class."

Well-known politicized prisoners are definitely aware of this "power elite" or "ruling class." As Jackson describes it, "The ruling class in the U.S. is composed of one million men and their families. . . . They rule with iron precision through the military, the C.I.A., the F.B.I., private founda• tions and financial institutions" (47). Jackson not only be- - 85 - lieves that there is a ruling class—he also has ideas about its approximate size, the power it possesses, and how it a- chieves control.

Politicized prisoners generally seem to have ideas about how the power elite exercises control. In Soul on Ice, for example, Cleaver says that "the police department and the armed forces are the two arms of the power structure, the mus• cles of control and enforcement" (48). He adds to this list in a later interview when he says that "the press is controlled by the exploiters, by the ruling class" (49). In the words of Ro- sie Douglas, a Canadian politicized prisoner, the ruling class is composed of "those who control the means of production, dis• tribution, exchange and the media" (50). The word "control" appears in all of the above statements.

Above all, these prisoners remark on the influence of the ruling class in creating prisons, and on how the powerful always seem able to elude the grip of the criminal justice sys• tem. In "Towards the ," for instance, Jackson com• ments upon the ruling class1 need for prisons:

Throughout the centralizing-authori- tarian process of American history, the ruling classes have found it ex• pedient, actually necessary to insin• uate upon the people instrumentalities designed to discourage and punish any genuine opposition to hierarchy. (51)

John Cluchette observes that "ninety-eight percent of all the - 86 - people in concentration camps [prisons] are members of the op• pressed class," and adds that "you won't find members of the ruling- in places like this" (52). This sentiment is shared by Jackson, who says that "there are no wealthy men on death row, and so very few in the general prison population that we can discount them all together" (53).

Like these prisoners, the new criminologists believe in the existence of a ruling class (although various qualifica• tions are introduced, depending on the specific theoretical or• ientation). In "Crime Control in Capitalist Society," for ex• ample, Quinney announces that "the major portions of the wealth and nearly all the power in American society are concentrated in the hands of a few large corporations" (54). He expands u- pon this theme in a later publication, stating that "1.6 per• cent of the population owns 80 percent of all the corporate stocks and government bonds" (55). The resemblance between these statements and those of the prisoners is striking.

Quinney shows a similar concern about the manner in which the ruling class uses the criminal justice system to maintain their power. In Critique of Legal Order, he says that

"the ruling class formulates criminal policy for the preserva• tion of domestic order, an order that assures the social and economic hegemony of the capitalist system" (56). He then laun• ches into an account of how the powerful are able to exploit the criminal justice system for their own ends,by demonstrating that the President's Crime Commission in the 1960's was com- - 87 - posed primarily of wealthy lawyers and directors of corpora• tions, and that many office holders in what he refers to as the

"crime control " have definite ties with the fi• nancial elite (57).

In addition, the new criminologists share the prison• ers1 opinion that members of the power elite can avoid prosecu• tion . When Taylor, Walton, and Young argue that "rule-breaking is institutionalized, regular and widespread amongst the power• ful," and that "it is a given result of the structural position occupied by powerful men," (58) they underscore the inviolabil• ity of the powerful. Their point is that the powerful not only can but do break rules on a regular basis, and that, aside from token sanctions, they are virtually immune to prosecution.

To be regarded as politicized, then, prisoner respon• ses in my study should resemble some of the foregoing comments on the power structure. As seen above, politicized prisoners and new criminologists alike believe in the existence of an hi• erarchical fraction tantamount to a "ruling class." Both are able to describe its composition and methods for exercising control. In addition, they quite predictably share the same concern about that class' ability to manipulate the criminal justice system in its own favour.

F. ATTITUDES TOWARD THE SOCIOLOGY OF LAW

The last attitudinal area used to assess the overall - 88 - degree of politicization (part VII of the interview schedule) dealt with the sociology of law. Respondents were asked to i- dentify both the law makers and those whose interests the law protects. This topic is of special interest to the new crimin• ologists, given their disciplinary focus on the analysis of le• gal relations. On the other hand, most politicized prisoners are relatively silent on the subject, possibly because it is more obscure or esoteric than other issues available to their scrutiny. Again, this is not totally surprising, since one reason for soliciting opinions on the sociology of law during the interview was my expectation that answers would be more difficult to formulate, and therefore would demand a higher de• gree of radicalized insight.

Cleaver's view on the subject is emphatically clear when he states that "which laws get enforced depends on who is in power. If the capitalists are in power, they enforce laws designed to protect their system, their way of life. They have a particular abhorrence for crimes against property" (59).

While Cleaver is talking about "enforcing" rather than "making" laws, it is nevertheless clear from his statement that he be• lieves the capitalist class to be in de facto control of the law, and that laws are designed to protect the property rela• tions of capitalism.

Jackson writes essentially the same thing in Blood in my Eye; "bourgeois law protects property relations, and not so• cial relationships" (60). This is a theme developed earlier in - 89 -

Soledad Brother, when he ponders the question:

What is it that really ties that fat rat with a chain of department stores to a uniformed pig? The fat rat wants the country and the world policed, made safe for his business to expand. . .Money is the bond I think. (61)

What he appears to recognize in the above statement (in a less direct manner than in the previous one) is that the wealthy are able to ensure that the country is policed in a way that guar• antees the continued existence of their economic well-being.

i

Another example of a politicized perspective on the law-making process is contained in a speech made by Cleaver at

Stanford University. He begins by noting that "some very in• teresting laws are being passed," and adds that they are cre• ated to control social dissent (62). He continues by assert• ing that:

What they're [the power structure] saying is that they have white people in this country who are dissenting, and they have some black people who are dissenting, and that these people are a threat to the game that's being run on people, and they have to be isolated, exterminated, confined to concentration camps, or have their paroles revoked. (63)

However, Cleaver refers to such figureheads as Hubert Humphrey or J. Edgar Hoover as the power-wielders, (64) whereas a more radicalized thinker would be more apt to mention such individu• als as owners of large corporations or high level financeers. - 90 -

Unfortunately, neither Cleaver nor Jackson are part• icularly revealing on the topic of "who makes the laws and why?," although both do offer some insights into their perspec• tives . For that matter—as mentioned previously—most politi• cized prisoners do not address the subject at all. We must turn to critical criminology for a clearer picture of a radicalized perspective on this topic.

Unlike the politicized prisoners, the new criminolo• gists are quite elaborate in their comments on the sociology of law. Without needing to forage for their opinions, the reader will easily discover a growing literature by the new criminolo• gists which attempts to discuss, define, and criticize the law• making process and how it represents the interests of a small but powerful socioeconomic group. This is not unexpected, giv• en that a sociology of law should be a cornerstone for any so• cial science claiming "crime" as its object of study.

The first area to consider, then, is who the new criminologists identify as having control over the legal deci• sion making process. According to Spitzer,

If we assume that class societies are based on fundamental conflicts between groups, and that harmony is achieved through the dominance of a specific class, it makes sense to argue that de• viants are culled from groups who create specific problems for those who rule. (65) - 91 -

In other words, Spitzer is arguing that the ruling class is able to manage social conflict by controlling definitions of deviance and the types of people who are selected for deviant status. Krisberg's thinking on the subject is quite similar:

Criminal laws and systems of law enforce• ment exist to promote and protect a system based on the conception (private ownership) of property, and these laws and systems of

/ organized violence or coercion are thus linked intimately with those persons who possess the most private property (66).

Quinney also deals extensively with this topic. He points out that in the United States "only a few groups are ever able to be represented in the formulation of law," due to inequalities of power (67). He develops this further, saying that "although law is supposed to protect all citizens, it starts as a tool of the dominant class and ends up by maintaining the dominance of that class" (68). Like Krisberg and Spitzer, then, he believes that "the ruling class formulates criminal policy," (69) and leaves no doubt that he believes the capitalists are the ruling class (70).

The new criminologists are equally clear on whose interests are protected by the law. Krisberg says that "laws that protect the sanctity of private property primarily benefit those who have the most property" (71). Quinney's comments in

The Social Reality of Crime are comparable when he asserts first that "the very emergence of criminal law is historically a political phenomenon. Because of the interests of particular - 92 - social segments, criminal law was created," (72) and adds later that "the legal protection of property has always been to the interest of the propertied segments of society" (73). In es• sence, the new criminologists believe that criminal law is de• fined by, and in favour of, the capitalist class—the "one per• cent" whom Quinney describes as the owners of "40 percent of the nation's wealth" (74).

These excerpts from the writings of politicized pris• oners and new criminologists suggest that a politicized prison• er would be of the opinion that law is formulated by the capi• talist class, for the capitalist class. While the statements of the politicized prisoners on this topic were less clear or systematic than those of the new criminologists, the prisoners did appear to make—albeit in a cruder manner—similar observa• tions. However, given the general inability of recognized pol• iticized prisoners to articulate a radical sociology of law, excessive expectations should not be placed on the respondents in my study when assessing their degree of politicization in this attitudinal category.

At this point, we have reviewed the perspectives of recognized politicized prisoners and new criminologists with respect to the five main attitudinal areas tested in my re• search. Briefly, those areas were class consciousness, percep• tions of the criminal justice system, acceptance (or rejection) of appropriate ideology, perceptions of the power structure, and the sociology of law. The above-mentioned categories were - 93 - the only ones included in the assessment of the overall degree of politicization.

From this review of the literature, it appears that recognized politicized prisoners adhere to a radicalized ideol• ogy, and see themselves as victims of an exploitative social order (capitalism) that protects the rich at the expense of the poor. It seems a safe conclusion that there are some remark• able similarities between the perspectives of the prisoners and those of the new criminologists, although it must be noted that there are some divergences. The views of both groups definite• ly resonate with a Marxist explanation of criminality.

Overall, by comparing and blending the statements of the two groups, we should have a fairly clear picture of the types of responses one might expect from a politicized prison• er. In other words, there is now a rough yardstick by which we can judge whether or not prisoner responses are indeed politi• cized in terms of a politicization scale. The last attitudinal area considered in the study—one not included in the politici• zation score, but used as a cross-check for each respondent's score in the category of overall degree of politicization—is considered below.

G. PRISONER PROGRAMS FOR CHANGE

The sixth and final attitudinal area addressed in the interview schedule related to the types of social change de- - 94 -

sired by the prisoners, and the methods advocated for achieving those changes. The purpose was to determine if those prisoners who answered other questions in a politicized manner would be able to go one step further by making concrete suggestions for improved social conditions, and by indicating how those changes might be achieved. As will be seen in the discussion of my re• search results, this topic proved—as was anticipated—to be difficult for many of the prisoners.

Radicalized prisoners have numerous specific propo• sals for social change. In Soul on Ice, Cleaver announces that

The world capitalist system has come to a decisive fork in the road. . . The road to the left is the way of re• conciliation with the exploited people of the world, the liberation of all peoples, the dismantling of all econom• ic relations based upon the exploita• tion of man by man. (75)

At a later date, Cleaver express this view more vehemently:

"the United States as it exists has to be totally obliterated and has to be rebuilt and re-structured, and the wealth, the means of production, the entire system, has to be re-arranged"

(76). Essentially, he calls for sweeping social changes and a socialist political system.

Others place emphasis on the notion that "the people" must gain control of the government, Jackson, for example, as• serts that - 95 -

if a government truly reflected the wishes of the people, if it truly represented a fair cross-section of the populace, it would follow that if the means of production and dis• tribution were placed in the hands of the government they would be con• trolled by the people. The central point is that the government must be truly representative. (77)

Wendell Wade agrees that "if we are ever to gain power and self determination the people must control not only production but distribution" (78).

Recognized politicized prisoners make other sugges• tions for social change, including of all in• dustries (79) and developing a more rational approach to the ecology (80). All desired changes entail an explicit rejection of capitalism in favour of socialism. In other words, the pris• oners see social problems as a manifestation of capitalism rather than as immutable phenomena that will remain regardless of changes in circumstances.

This rejection of capitalism is evidenced further in the methods advocated by the prisoners for achieving social changes. Jackson's stance on the issue is evident in his dec• laration that "Pure non-violence as a political ideal. . .is absurd. Politics is violence" (81). According to him,

there must be a latent threat of erup• tion, a dormant possibility of sudden and violent action if concessions are to be won, respect gained, and the es• tablished order altered. . .a look at - 96 -

European history shows that anything of great value that ever changed hands was taken by force of arms. (82)

He returns to this point in Blood in My Eye, saying that "rev• olution within a modern industrial capitalist society can only mean the overthrow of all existing property relations and the destruction of all institutions that. . .support existing pro• perty relations" (83).

His comments are comparable to Cleaver's, who announ• ces that "we need to develop a concept of urban geography, be• cause the only models of revolutionary behaviour that we have are those taken from rural geography and rural terrain," (84) and adds that "we have to fight a revolutionary struggle for the violent overthrow of the United States government and the total destruction of the racist, capitalist, imperialist, neo- colonialist power structure" (85). In both cases, the authors advocate the overthrow of the U.S. government through violent revolution.

The Marion Prison Collective offers a well articu• lated description of their proposed revolutionary methodology in a statement on their objectives, which reads as follows:

"Primary short-term objective: elevation of political con• sciousness. . .Method: one-on-one political education; infil• tration and politicization. Long Range Objective: Liberation of oppressed classes of this society. Method: Armed struggle and resocialization" (86). Like Jackson and Cleaver, then, - 97 - they suggest armed struggle (revolution) as the appropriate means for changing the society.

In the previous chapter on critical criminology it was noted that the new criminologists regard the capitalist system as criminogenic. As well, they generally favour so• cialism as a panacea to the ills of capitalism. However, they are more reluctant than the politicized prisoners to advocate extreme measures for achieving social change, and in fact, ap• pear to be almost silent on the subject of revolution. In most instances, the new criminologists are concerned primarily with the prospects for decreased criminalization under socialism.

In Critical Criminology, Taylor, Walton, and Young submit that

A socialist conception of man would insist on the unlimited nature of human potential in a human society, and specifically in a society in which man was freed from having to engage only in the essentially ani• malistic pursuit of material pro• duction in order to feed, consume, and exist. (87)

This ties in directly with their vision of a society wherein the material needs of the people would be met without some individuals having to resort to crime as a means of survival.

Furthermore, the statement is linked to their main objective:

"a criminology which is normatively committed to the abolition of inequalities in wealth and power" (88). - 98 -

As usual, Quinney is more straight-forward in his ap• proach. He announces that "capitalism has produced crime as we know it today in America" (89) and argues that "only with the building of a socialist society will there be a world without the need for crime control" (90). Chambliss echoes this senti• ment in a more subdued manner when he predicts that there will be "much lower rates of crime" in socialist nations (91). In both instances, there is a normative commitment to socialist ideology.

We can only speculate as to why the new criminolo• gists are less vocal than the prisoners in supporting the idea of violent revolution. It may be that the criminologists have a much greater stake in the present society than prisoners, who have nothing to lose; as well, criminologists are probably un• der more pressure (peer group and State influence, for example) to conform to at least some of the norms (such as "democratic" change) of capitalism.

In any event, the two groups appear to agree that capitalism should be replaced by socialism. Therefore, in cross-checking the responses of the interviewed prisoners in this attitudinal area to determine whether they are able to carry their radicalized consciousness into the realm of "prax• is," it seems realistic to expect that they should favour so• cialist goals and radical measures for achieving social change.

However, it should be kept in mind that the Canadian prisoners, - 99 - who lack the exposure to such radical groups as the Black Pan• thers, might be less inclined toward dramatic changes and ex• treme measures than their counterparts in the United States.

H. SUMMARY

In examining the five attitudinal areas tested in my study to determine levels of politicization, plus the other areas used as a cross-check, it appears that there are remark• able similarities between the comments of the politicized pri• soners and those of the new criminologists. While there are some minor divergences, by and large they all blame crime on the class structure of capitalist society, view criminal law as a tool created by the rich and powerful (in their own inter• ests), and call for political change from capitalism to social• ism. Essentially, each group advocates what could be labelled as a "radical" or "left-wing" philosophical stance, accompanied by a specific concern with the topic of crime.

At the same time, by comparing the comments of the politicized prisoners to those of the new criminologists on these topics, we should have a fair idea of what constitutes a radicalized view of crime and society. We have seen what the new criminologists would expect a politicized prisoner to think, and what some of the more lionized politicized prisoners themselves think about key issues in social control.

As discussed earlier, the new criminologists attach - 100 - appreciable significance to prison riots and regard them as politically-motivated events rather than as spontaneous up• risings aimed at wanton destruction or personal gratification

(92). It is clear that politicized prisoners also believe that their activities are political in nature (93). Newton summar• izes their position best when he asserts that

during all the rebellions across the country, the prisoners have indicated that their oppression is not simply a matter of overcrowded prisons, filthy conditions and guard brutality: but that it is centred in the institution• alized racism and of the judicial system itself. Behind their concrete demands for relief there is a radical political consciousness. (94)

In "Prospects for a Radical Criminology in the U. S.

A.," Piatt writes that "the most imaginative criminology has been written by 'criminals,'" referring to such notables as

Jackson, Davis, and Cleaver (95). Having looked at the writ• ings of such prisoners, we therefore have constructed a picture by which to guage politicization. By compiling examples of pol- liticized responses for each of the categories examined in the field research, it is possible to develop an ideal typology which can be utilized to provide a measurement of prisoner pol• iticization .

Before closing this chapter and going on to discuss methodological approaches to the study, it seems worthwhile to turn again to Huey Newton for one last definition of a politi• cized prisoner. He states that "there are two types of pris- - 101 - oners. The largest number are those who accept the of the assumptions upon which the society is based" (96), and

The second type of prisoner, is the one who rejects the legitimacy of the assump• tions upon which the society is based. . . the second type of prisoner says that the society is corrupt and must be overthrown. This second type of prisoner is the polit• ical prisoner. (97)

While one might look askance at his use of the term "political prisoner," his comments nevertheless are most applicable to a definition of a "politicized prisoner" (98). In identifying politicized prisoners, then, we should look for those who chal• lenge the fundamental legitimating precepts of the society.

FOOTNOTES

1. Clearly, most politicized prisoners would not be expected to be as articulate or systematic as George Jackson or Angela Davis. Cf. Barry Krisberg, Crime and Privilege: Toward a New Criminology (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prent• ice-Hall, 1975), pp. 82-3.

2. This area was not taken into consideration in determining politicization levels, but was used instead as a predictor of prisoner politicization. See Chapter 5 for further de• tails .

3. George Jackson, Soledad Brother: The Prison Letters of George Jackson (New York: Coward-McCann, 1970), pp. 72-3.

4. Frank Browning, "Organizing Behind Bars," Ramparts, Feb. 72, vol. 10, no. 8, p. 44.

5. Wendall Wade, "The Politics of Prison," The Black Scholar, April-May 71, p. 12.

6. Jackson, op. cit., p. 184.

7. George Jackson, Blood in My Eye (New York: Random House, 1972), p. 106. - 102 -

8. Angela Y. Davis, If They Come in the Morning: Voices of Resistance, ed. Angela Y. Davis (New York: Joseph Okpak- er, 1971), p. 27. 9. Ibid., p. 27.

10. Richard Quinney, Class, State, and Crime: On the Theory and Practice of Criminal Justice (New York: McKay, 1977), p. 71.

11. Ibid., p. 74.

12. Anthony M. Piatt, The Child Savers: The Invention of Delinquency (Chicago: U. of Chicago Press, 1969, 1977), p. 190.

13. Richard Quinney, The Social Reality of Crime (Boston: Lit• tle, Brown & Co., 1970), p. 217.

14. Davis, op. cit., p. 25.

15. Jackson, Soledad Brother, p. 194.

16. Marion Prison Collective, "Network Building: Notes of a Prison Collective," Crime and Social Justice: A Journal of Radical Criminology, Spring-Summer 76, p. 53.

17. Jackson, Soledad Brother, p. 165.

18. Ibid., p. 265

19. Jackson, Blood in My Eye, p. 78. Cf. Robert Chrisman, "Black Prisoners, White Law," The Black Scholar, April-May 71, p. 45.

20. Richard Quinney, Critique of Legal Order: Crime Control in Capitalist Society (Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1974), pT 52.

21. Quinney, Class, State, and Crime, p. 3.

22. As seen clearly in Chapter 2.

23. William J. Chambliss, "Toward a Political Economy of Crime," The Sociology of Law: A Conflict Perspective, eds. Charles E~. Reasons and Robert M. Rich (Toronto: Butter- worth's, 1978), p. 174, p. 206.

24. Ibid., p. 206.

25. Lee Lockwood, Conversation with Eldridge Cleaver (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1970), p. 71.

26. Jackson, Soledad Brother, p. 18.

27. Ibid., p. 251. - 103 -

28. Ibid., p. 175.

29. Ibid., p. 163.

30. Wade, op. cit., p. 13.

31. Ibid., p. 18.

32. Jackson, Soledad Brother, p. 111.

33. Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young, "Critical Crimin• ology in Britain: Review and Prospects," Critical Crimin• ology, eds. Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young (Lon- don: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1975), p. 21.

34. Steven Spitzer, "Toward a Marxian Theory of Deviance," So- cial Problems, vol. 22, no. 5, June 75, p. 642.

35. Richard Quinney, "The Production of Criminology," Crimin• ology, vol. 16, no. 4, Feb. 79, p. 450.

36. Ibid., p. 451.

37. Ibid., p. 450, p. 451, p. 453, p. 455.

38. Richard Quinney, "Crime Control in Capitalist Society: A Critical Philosophy of Legal order," Critical Criminology, eds. Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1975), p. 192.

39. Spitzer, op. cit., p. 647.

40. Stanley Cohen and Jock Young, The Manufacture of News: So• cial Problems, Deviance and the Mass Media, eds. Stanley Cohen and Jock Young (London: Constable, 1973), p.9.

41. Robert Mintz, "Interview with Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young," Issues in Criminology, vol. 9, no. 1, Spring 74, p. 50.

42. Ibid., p. 50.

43. Spitzer, op. cit., p. 645.

44. Tony Piatt and Paul Takagi, "Intellectuals for Law and Or• der: A Critique of the New 1 Realists,'" Crime and Social Justice, Fall-Winter 77, p. 3.

45. Ibid., p. 4.

46. Mintz, op. cit., p. 51.

47. Jackson, Blood in My Eye, pp. 169-70; Cf. Jackson, Soledad Brother, p. 73. - 104 -

48. Eldridge Cleaver, Soul on Ice (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1968), p. 128.

49. Lockwood, op. cit., p. 45.

50. Rosie Douglas, Penal Reform, Community Development, and Social Change: Overview from a Canadian Perspective (Mon- treal: Mondiale, 1975), p. T~.

51. George Jackson, "Towards the United Front," If They Come in the Morning: Voices of Resistance, ed. Angela Y. Davis (New York: Joseph Okpaker, 1971), p. 141.

52. John Cluchette, "On Prison Reform," If They Come in the Morning: Voices of Resistance, ed. Angela Y. Davis (New York: Joseph Okpaker, 1971), pp. 138-39.

53. Jackson, "Towards the United Front," p. 142.

54. Quinney, "Crime Control in Capitalist Society," p. 193.

55. Quinney, Class, State, and Crime, p. 74.

56. Quinney, Critique of Legal Order, p. 59.

57. Ibid., pp. 61-5, pp. 87-91.

58. Taylor et al., "Critical Criminology in Britain," p. 30.

59. Cleaver, Soul on Ice, p. 129.

60. Jackson, Blood in My Eye, p. 100.

61. Jackson, Soledad Brother, p. 31.

62. Eldridge Cleaver, Post-Prison Writings and Speeches, ed. Robert Scheer (New York: Random House, 1967), p. 131.

63. Ibid., p. 131.

64. Ibid., p. 131.

65. Spitzer, op. cit., p. 640.

66. Krisberg, op. cit., p. 13.

67. Quinney, Critique of Legal Order, p. 24.

68. Ibid., p. 24.

69. Ibid., p. 59.

70. Ibid, p. 52, pp. 61-5, p. 139. - 105 -

71. Krisberg, op. cit., p. 62.

72. Quinney, The Social Reality of Crime, p. 44.

73. Ibid., p. 73.

74. Quinney, Critique of Legal Order, p. 52.

75. Cleaver, Soul on Ice, p. 119.

76. Lockwood, op. cit., p. 56.

77. Jackson, Soledad Brother, p. 169.

78. Wade, op. cit., p. 17.

79. Jackson, Soledad Brother, p. 169.

80. Erik H. Erikson and Huey P. Newton, In Search of Common Ground (New York: Norton, 1973), p. 76.

81. Jackson, Soledad Brother, p. 225.

82. Ibid., p. 106.

83. Jackson, Blood in My Eye, p. 7.

84. Lockwood, op. cit., p. 52.

85. Ibid., p. 54.

86. Marion Prison Collective, op. cit., p. 50.

87. Taylor, Walton, and Young, Critical Criminology, p. 23.

88. Ibid., p. 44.

89. Quinney, Critique of Legal Order, p. 168.

90. Ibid., p. 16.

91. Chambliss, op. cit., p. 194.

92. John Pallas and Bob Barber, "From Riot to Revolution," Issues in Criminology, vol. 7, no. 2, Fall 72, p. 2, p. 16.

93. Cf. Davis, op. cit., p. 26; C. Ronald Huff, "Unionization Behind Bars," Criminology, vol. 12, no. 2, Aug. 74, p. 192.

94. Huey P. Newton, "Prison, Where is Thy Victory?," If They Come in the Morning: Voices of Resistance, ed. Angela Y. Davis (New York: Joseph Okpaker, 1971), p. 54. - 106 -

95. Tony Piatt, "Prospects for a Radical Criminology in the U. S.A.," Critical Criminology, eds. Ian Taylor, Paul Walton and Jock Young (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975), p. 98.

96. Newton, op. cit., p. 52.

97. Ibid., p. 52.

98. A prisoner who "rejects the legitimacy of the assumptions upon which the society is based" is not necessarily a "po• litical prisoner," unless he has been convicted of an of• fence which was committed for purely political reasons. - 107 -

CHAPTER 5. METHODOLOGY

A. INTRODUCTION

A discussion of the methodology employed in this re• search includes consideration of problems in gaining entry to the field, sampling procedures, survey design, interviewing techniques, and interpretation of data. Before doing this, however, we will examine some of the forays of other research• ers into the field, in an attempt to gain a perspective on what has taken place to date, and on the extent to which the present research differs from previous efforts.

In the beginning of this paper, it was mentioned that my initial interest in the politicized prisoner topic was a- roused by Fairchild's article, "Politicization of the Criminal

Offender." While her study also dealt with prisoners' atti• tudes, and therefore could be reviewed at the same time as the efforts of the other researchers, it will receive special at• tention in light of its contribution to my research, both in terms of inspiration and methodological ideas.

The last segment of the chapter, apart from providing a brief summary of the methodological approach, will address the issue of whether or not the responses of the surveyed pris• oners should be regarded as reflective of "attitudes" or simply of "opinions." It also will offer a short critique of the - 108 - methodological shortcomings of my own study, for few research designs are without problems of some description.

B. STUDIES ON PRISONER ATTITUDES

The relative lack of empirical research on prisoners1 attitudes was discussed briefly in the Introduction to this thesis. It was not and is not my intention to suggest that there has been no significant work on this topic, but rather to point out that including Fairchild's study, there have been, as far as can be ascertained, only five efforts in this direction.

Of those five, only Fairchild's clearly addresses the subject of the politicized prisoner. This is a little surprising, in that it suggests somewhat of an imbalance between the small number of studies aimed at acquiring firsthand information a- bout the attitudes of prisoners, and the numerous articles or books about prisoners and prisoner politicization, most writ• ten as though the authors felt confident that they were de• scribing accurately the thoughts and feelings of prisoners.

In 1958, Watt and Maher published an article entitled

"Prisoners' Attitudes Toward Home and the Judicial system," in which they reported the results of their survey of 74 adult male prisoners in a U.S. penitentiary (1). Unfortunately, by their own admission they failed to collect any relevant infor• mation, and were unable to attach any significance to their findings (2). Shortly thereafter, in 1963, Mylonas and Reck• less conducted a similar study aimed at measuring "favourable - 109 - or unfavourable attitudes toward law and legal institutions"

(3). After interviewing 300 prisoners, all of whom were prop• erty offenders (hardly offering a random sample of the prison population) (4), they concluded that Blacks were "less favour• able" than Whites in their attitudes toward the legal system

(5). Neither article is particularly helpful in clarifying either what prisoners believe or how to go about plumbing the attitudes of politicized prisoners.

Nothing was added to the field until 1974, when John

A. Davis researched the attitudes of Black prisoners toward crime and criminal law. The basic themes which emerged from his interviews with a stratified sample of 150 Blacks were that

Black prisoners felt that the system is set up to protect White interests (6), that there is "unequal access" to social mobil• ity (7), and that the law discriminates against them (8). He explains that as a result of these perceptions Black prisoners attach little significance to law violation, because they view the law "as simply another instrument for upholding white su• premacy," rather than "as an instrument for justice" (9), and concludes that these awarenesses could lead to criminal activ• ity under certain circumstances (10).

In some ways, the Davis study bears resemblance to the present one. There is no doubt that it deals with prison• ers' views, and that some of those views which he discovered among his respondents were indicative of a degree of politi• cization. However, while he did uncover some information simi- - 110 - lar to that solicited from the prisoners in my study, he did not address himself specifically to the topic of politiciza• tion, and as a result did not attempt to measure the radicali• zation levels in the prisoner population.

The most recent article in this field, other than

Fairchild's, was published by Alpert and Hicks in 1977. They preface their paper, "Prisoners' Attitudes Toward Components of the Legal and Judicial Systems," by noting that there are a limited number of studies on prisoners' attitudes toward the law (11). They go on to describe their methodology, reporting that they interviewed a random sample of 241 male prisoners at the Washington Corrections Reception Centre, and that they ad• ministered a test with three scales, designed to test attitudes

"towards the police, lawyers, and the legal system" (12). They found that 73 percent of the respondents had negative attitudes toward the police, that the attitudes toward the law and the legal system were evenly distributed, and that attitudes to• ward lawyers tended to be more positive (13). Like other re• searchers, they also discovered that nonwhites were more likely than Whites to have negative feelings about the police (14).

As in the case of Davis, it could be suggested that

Alpert and Hicks' research is somewhat similar to mine, al• though again there are some strong dissimilarities. They did address themselves to the issue of prisoners' attitudes toward the criminal justice system, but this comprised only a small part of my survey, which instead sought information in several different attitudinal areas. Furthermore, my methodology was designed with the intention of accumulating enough information to permit some inference regarding degrees of radicalization, rather than simply to arrive at a picture of prisoners' atti• tudes in one attitudinal area.

One might be tempted to include Yochelson and Samen- ow's work in this synopsis of research on the attitudes of prisoners, although their methodological approach had its roots in psychiatry rather than in social science or criminology.

Certainly their study was very ambitious, involving thousands of hours of interviewing at a forensic unit over a fourteen year period (15). However, while they did amass unsystematic but substantial records of prisoners' attitudes towards many facets of life in general, their main purpose was to develop a psychological profile of a typical criminal, to determine why people become criminals and to discover a "cure" for that

"criminal personality."

None of the above-mentioned studies could be said to deal with the topic of politicization; while the researchers may unintentionally have collected information relevant to this subject, they were not concerned with identifying or measuring prisoner politicization. In addition, it is fair to say that they had little, if any, impact upon either the concept or the methodology of my research. However, the Fairchild study served to fill this gap in many ways. - 112 -

C. THE FAIRCHILD STUDY

i

As mentioned at various points in this thesis, my in• itial interest in the politicized prisoner topic was aroused by

Fairchild's paper, "Politicization of the Criminal Offender."

Apart from identifying an interesting area for scholastic en• deavour, the methodology she chose provided some excellent ex• amples of how to (and how not to) approach the field. Before going on to examine the findings and methodology of her study, however, we will consider briefly her relationship to critical criminology.

At the beginning of her dissertation--which served as the basis for her article—she acknowledges that many of her perspectives on the "political model of crime" are drawn from

Quinney's work (16). She also makes bibliographical references to Piatt and Pallas and Barber. Her relationship to the new criminologists can be seen clearly in her statement that the prison is "a microcosm for political change" (17), which is merely a shortened version of Pallas and Barber's assertion that "American prisons are not only a microcosm of American so• ciety, with its oppression and exploitation, but also of the movement to transform that society" (18). If this is not evi• dence enough, then her frequent discussions of "alienation"

(19) and the "political model of crime" (20) (which bears a remarkable resemblance to the explanation of crime and crimin• ality offered by the new criminologists) offer further support for this observation. In many ways it appears that she regards - 113 - her work as a research-oriented affirmation of some of the ten• ets of critical criminology.

In her paper, "Politicization of the Criminal Offend• er," Fairchild announced that prisoners were developing a radi• calized set of attitudes regarding crime, politics, and the socioeconomic system. She demonstrated that an appreciable number of prisoners identified a small, nonelected elite as the wielders of power, that prisoners were aware of the economic bias of the criminal justice system, and that prisoners felt powerless because they believed that powerful, corrupt individ• uals were governing the nation in an arbitrary, self-aggrandiz• ing manner (21). Fairchild concluded that "the offender is re• jecting the notion that he is sick or deviant and is in need of rehabilitation and claims that it is the society itself which is sick or deviant and in need of rehabilitation" (22). A sec• ondary conclusion—based more on inference than on evidence— was that the prison experience was an important ingredient in the politicization process (23).

Fairchild addressed herself to six main attitudinal areas to determine how prisoners felt about themselves and U.S. society: 1) Had they internalized "acceptable" political ideo• logy? 2) Did they regard the political system as democratic?

3) How did they perceive the power structure? 4) Did they feel competent in dealing with the social system? 5) Did they have strong feelings of community? and 6) What was their view of the criminal justice system? (24). Some of these areas sur- - 114 - vived to a certain extent in the methodology employed in my re• search.

On the other hand, there were some weaknesses in her methodology which hopefully were avoided in my study. Her sample, which consisted of only twenty-four respondents, was selected by caseworkers in three Washington State prisons, with each prisoner receiving $10.00 for participating (25). Without knowing the selection criteria applied by each of the casework• ers, it is difficult to determine whether or not the views ex• pressed by the sampled prisoners were representative of those of the prisoner population. It is possible that the partici• pants were chosen on the basis of their political activities or their readiness to speak freely in an interview situation, or alternatively, because they would be more likely to express o- pinions consistent with those of the administration.

At the same time, one might question her inclination to draw strong inferences from such a small sample. Her sample represents only one percent of the prisoners in Washington

State, whereas mine represents almost five percent of the pris• oners in British Columbia. Furthermore, although the ethnic blend of her sample appears to be representative enough inas• much as there were six Blacks, three Indians, one Mexican, and fourteen Whites, with four being women respondents, it has to be noted that there was only one prisoner over the age of forty

(26). Considering that my research revealed that younger pris• oners tend to be more politicized, it could be suggested that - 115 - her sample was biased in favour of politicized responses.

Fairchild's questioning procedures also are open to

some criticism. Rather than following a defined questionnaire on interview schedule, she prepared some basic questions in advance, and relied heavily upon follow-up questions based on prisoner responses (27). She interviewed each prisoner four times, and did not follow the same format for every prisoner, so we must wonder what types of questions were asked, and whether or not those questions could be described as "leading."

When she did follow a pre-arranged pattern of ques• tions, her approach was still somewhat disquieting. For ex• ample, instead of asking the respondents if they thought that the United States had a democratic political system, she first gave a formal description of an ideal-type democracy, saying that "democracy usually means that the people in a country have the chance to help decide what the government does," and then asking "do you think that we have a democracy in this country?"

(28). Needless-to-say, this type of questioning would make it possible for all respondents to reject the notion that the Uni• ted States is a democracy, regardless of their knowledge about, or interest in, political affairs. In other words, it would make it difficult to identify those prisoners who normally would be unable to discuss the political system at all, and who therefore should be viewed as non-politicized.

Another example is quoted in full from Fairchild's - 116 - doctoral dissertation:

Each respondent was asked who had the most power and influence in making de• cisions for the government. If the re• spondent seemed hesitant, the suggestion was made that it might be the President, the Congress, labour unions, big indus• trialists, a small group of influential people, or the military. (29)

It has to be noted that Fairchild starts with the assumption that government decision-making is influenced by powerful or influential people, and that she does not offer the respondent the choice of saying that "the people" or "the voters" have an impact on political decisions. Again, this approach likely would skew the results of her survey in favour of politiciza• tion, given that she made suggestions for responses to pris• oners who otherwise might have been unable to formulate any response at all.

This does not exhaust all of the examples which might bear closer inspection. One could look askance, for instance, at her decision to ask respondents directly if they believed themselves to be political prisoners (30). Considering that she interviewed them four times, this approach could make the respondents more aware of the nature of her survey during the later interviews, and hence more inclined to formulate their responses upon that basis. Without citing various other illus• trations—as this would be time-consuming and probably unprod• uctive—it seems to be a fair conclusion that overall, there are reasonable grounds upon which to speculate that her basic - 117 - interview schedule and her interviewing techniques might have biased her research findings in favour of discovering politi• cization .

The results of her study suggest an appreciable de• gree of politicization among the sampled prisoners. She found that many of the prisoners believed that: 1) money controls political decision-making (31); 2) the power elite is composed of a small group of influential people with money (32); 3) enough money for a good lawyer can buy freedom, regardless of the seriousness of the crime (33); and 4) prisoners are victims

"of oppression and repression" (34). From this she concludes that the prisoner is seeing the society (rather than himself) as sick (35), that he feels a sense of "political alienation" and "alienation from the criminal justice system" (36), and that "the illegitimacy of the political order is related in

[his] mind to his belief that the state is a lawless agency"

(37).

Unfortunately, it is difficult to follow how she ar• rives at some of these conclusions. A point in fact is her recurring claim that prisoners feel "alienated" (38), despite the problem that just one prisoner mentioned the term "aliena• tion," and then only in the context of loneliness (39). An• other area of concern—particularly considering her direct questioning on this topic—is that only a single respondent described himself as a "political prisoner" (40). In her anal• ysis of the evidence, it sometimes seems that she finds signif- - 118 - icant examples of politicization where the actual responses of the prisoners are not consistent with those findings.

This is not to suggest that Fairchild's study is lacking in value or that the conclusions are totally without foundation, but rather to point out some of the more noticeable weaknesses. Her paper, "Politicization of the Criminal Offend• er," certainly had an impact on the present research, both in terms of inspiration and of ideas upon which to structure the methodology. Indeed, of all the studies on prisoners' atti• tudes, hers had the most to contribute to my efforts, as we shall see in the following sections.

D. ENTRY TO THE FIELD

In their book entitled Field Research, Schatzman and

Strauss point out that problems involved in gaining entry to the field are of major concern to social scientists (41). Fur• thermore, they note that relatively few attempts are made to document successful or unsuccessful strategies for gaining en• try, hence making it difficult for future researchers to learn through the experience of others (42). Hopefully this account of my experience will offer some concrete suggestions for ap• propriate methods of approaching prison authorities regarding research.

Fortunately, I was in a rather advantageous position when applying for entry, due to my position as a Classification - 119 -

Officer at the Regional Reception Centre. On the basis of my three years' experience with the Penitentiary Service, it was fairly easy to convince those responsible for approving or re• jecting research applications that my total familiarity with institutional rules and regulations would obviate the likeli• hood of disruptions to the good order of the institution. To add to this, the nature of my employment was such that it rou• tinely involved extensive and intensive interviewing of pris• oners. Needless-to-say, it was evident that the envisioned methodology would not involve any substantial change in insti• tutional routine, as the research-oriented interviews could be conducted at the same time as regular classification inter• views .

Apart from these advantages, however, the proposed

research was subjected to the same scrutiny as any other re•

search proposal. It was necessary to submit a formal proposal

to the Regional Research Committee, which is a group composed

of representatives from various institutions and branches with•

in the federal penitentiary system in British Columbia, en•

trusted with the task of reviewing all applications for permis•

sion to conduct research in federal penitentiaries in British

Columbia. The Research Committee's requirements for the propo•

sal included a statement of the purpose of the research, an

outline of the questions to be asked, a description of the

techniques of interpretation, and an account of the uses to

which the research would be put. The main concerns of the Com•

mittee appeared to be that the research should have clear goals - 120 - or objectives, that it should be conducted in a professional and objective manner, and that the derivative uses of the re• search should be defined in advance.

It is difficult to assess the impact of my employment position on how the final decision was reached. One assumes that the Committee members reject what they consider to be poor or inappropriate research and approve what they see as desir• able, regardless of who the applicant is. There is no doubt that the Chairman of the Regional Research Committee was very helpful in expediting the processing of my application. He also made several useful suggestions, which were taken into consideration in the preparation of this project. With his assistance, and the coopertion of the other Committee members

(some of whom knew me), the research proposal was approved in about a month. It seems like a short time, but it is possible that all proposals are dealt with this quickly.

Once approval was granted, the Penitentiary Service

assisted significantly in the completion of the research. They

allowed interviewing during normal working hours at the two prisons I worked at during that period, and gave me two days'

leave with pay while conducting research at another institu•

tion. They also offered reasonable access to any available

facilities which could be of assistance. As a result, it was

possible to finish the research with minimal difficulties.

Each prison exercised some degree of control, in the - 121 -

sense that they insisted upon seeing the research design as an advance condition of their cooperation. This proved easy to

comply with at the Regional Reception Centre/B.C. Penitentiary and Mountain Institution—in both places my direct supervisor

(The Supervisor of Classification) took less than two days to

review the project, possibly discuss it with someone in a more

senior position, and grant approval. At Mission Medium Secur•

ity Institution, on the other hand, it was necessary to discuss

the research with the Director, and then with a group of repre•

sentatives from the Inmate Program Division, and finally with

the institutional Psychologist. A probable explanation for

the more formal procedures at Mission is that I was not one of

their employees, and therefore they were more cautious.

In summary, gaining entry to the field was relatively

easy, and accomplished more quickly than anticipated. The

three major obstacles were the submission of a proposal outlin•

ing the project in detail, then obtaining the approval of the

Regional Research Committee, and finally submitting the propo•

sal to the same scrutiny by senior representatives at each in•

stitution. After these obstacles were overcome, the Penitenti•

ary Service proved to be very helpful in the completion of the

research, and in fact it could be said that the project would

have been most difficult without the Service's cooperation and

assistance. All of the senior penitentiary officials who were

contacted regarding my study expressed interest in hearing a-

bout the results, as they felt that prisoner politicization

could have a definite influence on the smooth functioning of - 122 - penitentiaries.

E. SAMPLING PROCEDURES

The sample was drawn from three federal prisons lo• cated in the Lower Mainland of British Columbia. Thirty pris• oners were interviewed between June and July of 1979 while working as a Classification Officer at the Regional Reception

Centre/B.C. Penitentiary. Following that, fifteen were survey• ed between August and September of the same year, during a tour of duty at Mountain Institution. Finally, fifteen more were

sampled at Mission Medium Security Institution during the month of January 1980. There were sixty respondents in all.

The Regional Reception Centre/B.C. Penitentiary, which has since been permanently closed, was an old maximum se• curity facility in New Westminster. New Westminster is near

Vancouver, British Columbia, and has a population of approxi• mately 40,000 (43). Parts of the prison were in existence be•

fore the turn of the Century. The prison was designed to ac•

commodate over 600 prisoners, although there were only around

350 at the time of the research. Fortunately, apart,from pro• viding the only maximum security facilities in British Columbia

at that time, the prison was acting as a reception centre for

all new arrivals in the federal system. This made it possible

to obtain a mixed sample of first offenders, recidivists, par•

ole violators, and returnees from lesser security institutions. - 123 -

Mountain Institution is a small medium security pris• on with a holding capacity of 200, located on the outskirts of the small rural town of Agassiz, which has an approximate area population of 4,000, including the surrounding municipalities, and is around 120 kilometers from the heavily populated area surrounding Vancouver (44). The prison was seen by many as a minimum/medium facility, as it had only one relatively low fence and a relaxed atmosphere, although the security has been upgraded since then. The prison was opened in response to the activities of the Doukhobors during the late 1950s. The Douk- hobors were a sect of dissident Russian , whose numbers in British Columbia were approximately 12,000 at that time.

They opposed formal education, taxes, and land ownership laws through protests involving nudity, arson, and dynamiting, and as a result were frequently imprisoned for criminal offences

(45). At the time of the research, the prisoners placed in

Mountain generally were those regarded as unlikely to escape and/or constituting a minimal risk to the community. The pop• ulation characteristics of the prison were somewhat unusual, however, due to a heavy concentration of older prisoners and protective custody prisoners (eg. sexual offenders or suspected informers).

Mission Medium Security Institution is situated near the town of Mission, which has a population of around 15,000, and is about 80 kilometers from Vancouver (46). Mission Insti• tution is the newest of the three prisons, and is quite dif• ferent from the others in its physical layout and prisoner pro- - 124 - grams. It opened in the late 1970s, and operated under the principles of the Living Unit Program, which emphasized the role of security officers as counsellors, and placed consider• able importance on the idea of program planning for prisoners.

Unlike the Regional Reception Centre/B.C. Penitentiary, which housed its prisoners in two large areas (each in a separate cell), or Mountain Institution, where inmates were accommodated in several large, shared dormitories, Mission was divided into six separate units, each with 36 cells, giving it a total capa• city of 180. It had a work-oriented program built around a furniture-making factory, with the expressed purpose of teach• ing acceptable work habits to prisoners, whereas the other two prisons featured such courses as barbering, automobile mechan• ics, carpentry, and formal education. The population of Mis• sion was composed mainly of younger offenders, most serving relatively short sentences for less serious crimes like theft, fraud, or trafficking in soft drugs.

Prisoners at the Regional Reception Centre/B.C. Peni• tentiary were surveyed during the course of routine Classifica• tion interviews. The sample was felt to be fairly representa• tive in the sense that cases were assigned to Classification

Officers by a Classification Clerk as the prisoners came into the system, with each Classification Officer receiving addi• tional prisoners commensurate with the size of his or her case• load, rather than on the basis of any unique characteristics of the prisoners. In other words, cases were assigned impartial• ly, with each officer receiving a normal mixture, including to- - 125 - tal newcomers, recidivists, escapees, sexual offenders, proper• ty offenders, and so forth. An effort was made to survey each of the prisoners on my caseload as they went through the Class• ification process (ie., initial documentation, program plan• ning, transfers to lesser security institutions, etc.), al• though this was not always possible due to time constraints im• posed by work requirements. The research was conducted over a period of slightly more than one month, because it was done in conjunction with my employment.

The sample at Mountain Institution was drawn from an already established caseload which had been assigned to a prev• ious Classification Officer who was no longer with the service.

The respondents were selected by going through the caseload in alphabetical order, until a total of 15 were interviewed. This was accomplished in only three days, as it was much easier to arrange for interviews at Mountain, and as the workload there was much lighter than at the Regional Reception Centre/B.C.

Penitentiary. Unlike the research at the Regional Reception

Centre/B.C. Penitentiary, which was conducted at the same time as regular Classification interviews, the prisoners sampled at

Mountain were scheduled for interviews primarily for research purposes.

The sampling procedures were quite different at Mis• sion Medium Security Institution, because I was not an employee there. Instead of interviewing prisoners from an existing caseload, the Institutional Psychologist provided me with a - 126 - list of prisoners he had obtained from the computer at the prison. The list was drawn at random by asking the computer to identify all prisoners who had a particular letter in the spel• ling of their last names. Fifteen prisoners were surveyed at

Mission over a two day period, as their names appeared in num• erical order on the list, and subject to availability. It was possible to complete the work at Mission very quickly, as there were no employment requirements to hinder or delay the process.

Each prisoner was informed prior to the interview that participation was strictly voluntary. Only five prisoners refused to participate in the survey—one at the Reception Cen• tre, another at Mountain, and three at Mission. The higher in• cidence of refusals at Mission probably reflects the fact that the prisoners there were not as acquainted with me as were those at the other prisons. This subject will be considered in more detail in a later section of this chapter dealing with in• terviewing techniques.

There are various reasons for regarding this sample as relatively representative of federal prisoners in British

Columbia. The interviews at the Reception Centre provided a good variety in terms of age, types of offence, and frequency of exposure to the criminal justice system. Mountain offered a sample composed predominantly of older and/or protective cus• tody prisoners, most of whom had a minimum or minimum-medium security rating. The prisoners at Mission were mostly property offenders, usually selected on the basis of their potential for - 127 - rehabilitation, and often having had minimal exposure to the criminal justice system. As we shall see in the next chapter, the sample consisted of prisoners ranging in age from under 20 to over 50, coming from diverse social backgrounds, and serv• ing sentences from two years to life for various offences.

In fact, the composition of my sample is quite com• parable to that of the federal prisoner population in British

Columbia. Table 5.1, condensed from the Solicitor General's

TABLE 5.1 OFFENCE CATEGORIES FOR PRISONERS IN THE PACIFIC REGION BETWEEN THE AGES OF 20 AND 30 (47).

Type of Offence Frequency Percentage

Property-related 260 53

Sexual 50 10

Drug-related 74 15

Violence-related 56 11

Murder 47 10

TOTAL 487 100

Annual Report 1980 - 1981, shows a breakdown of offence cate• gories for federal prisoners in British Columbia between twenty and thirty years of age. Table 5.2 shows a breakdown of the of• fence categories for the prisoners in my sample. With the ex• ceptions of a slight difference in the frequency of property offences, and a relatively noticeable difference in the fre- - 128 -

TABLE 5.2 PRESENT OFFENCES

Type of Offence Frequency Percentage

Property-related 29 48

Sexual 11 18

Drug-related 8 13

Violence-related 6 10

Murder 6 10

TOTAL 60 100

quency of sexual offences (which is attributable to the large protective custody units in Mountain Institution and the Recep• tion Centre/B.C. Penitentiary), the two tables resemble each other in most repects.

Similarly, the age distribution is comparable. Ap• proximately 40 percent of the federal prisoners in British Co• lumbia are between twenty and thirty years of age, (48) whereas

43 percent are in this age category in my sample (see Chapter

6, Table 6.1). There was only one prisoner under the age of twenty in my sample, but this is explained by the fact that there are only twelve federal prisoners under the age of twenty in British Columbia (49).

Anderson and Zelditich define a random sample as one - 129 -

"drawn in such a way that each and every object in the popula•

tion has an equal chance of appearing in the sample" (51). If

the parameters of the prisoner population were set to encompass

all incarcerated offenders, including those in provincial or

juvenile institutions, then the sample utilized in this study

would not conform to the above definition of a random sample,

as it did not allow for the possibility of interviewing of•

fenders under the age of 18 or those serving sentences of less

than two years. However, with the possible exceptions of a minor over-representation of protective custody prisoners due

to the large protective custody units at the Reception Centre

and Mountain, and the slight under-representation of minimum

security prisoners owing to the fact that no interviews were

conducted at facilities strictly designated as minimum secur•

ity, it is felt that the sampling procedures afforded an equal opportunity for all types of federal offenders to be represent• ed.

F. THE INTERVIEW SCHEDULE

The interview schedule evolved over a period of ap• proximately two years of study and development, with input from several sources. After reading Fairchild's article, I prepared a set of questions designed to solicit information relating to the attitudinal areas addressed in her research. I then inter• viewed twenty prisoners from my caseload at the Reception Cen• tre/B.C. Penitentiary with the intention of reporting the find• ings to a team meeting of Classification Officers, although the - 130 - report was not made, due to various reasons unrelated to the present research. This initial survey did, however, uncover some interesting response patterns indicative of an appreciable degree of politicization, and provided a basis for later dis• cussions with my thesis supervisor leading to modifications and refinement of the question format. Following another pre-test involving eight more respondents, the interview schedule under• went further minor revisions in order to arrive at the final format, a copy of which is included in this thesis as Appendix

A.

Earlier in this chapter I noted that Fairchild tested six areas, those being acceptance of "appropriate" ideology, opinions on whether or not the political system is democratic, perceptions of the power structure, feelings of competence in dealing with the system, feelings of community, and attitudes toward the criminal justice system. All six of these categor• ies were included in my first effort. However, the area con• cerned with alienation (ie., feelings of community) was deleted in subsequent efforts, because of the difficulty in arriving at a practical definition of alienation (51), and because demon• strating that a prisoner feels alienated would not necessarily bear on politicization. Questions regarding feelings of compe• tence in dealing with the system were dropped for much the same reasons, inasmuch as proving that a person does (or does not) feel competent would be only tangentially related to his degree of politicization. In any event, responses to questions in both categories during my first study were so vague and confus- - 131 - ing that it quickly became evident that the categories were of dubious value.

In addition to deleting these two categories, the questions in my survey were structured quite differently from those of Fairchild. While she did prepare some preliminary questions, her approach allowed unstructured follow-up ques• tioning based on initial responses (52). The problem with that approach is that there is no way of knowing what was asked, how it was asked, and what influence those factors had on the re• sponses. My interview schedule, on the other hand, consisted of pre-defined questions, and was followed strictly in each in• terview.

A fairly significant departure from Fairchild's meth• odology was the addition of questions designed to test the cor• relation between degree of politicization and exposure to the criminal justice system. While she discussed the impact of in• carceration on the politicization process (53), the relation• ship was assumed. As we shall see, however, substantiating this relationship was an important part of my study, second only to the matter of assessing prisoner politicization.

The balance of this section will deal firstly with an in-depth consideration of the questions included in the inter• view schedule, and secondly with an assessment of the strengths and weaknesses of the schedule. As mentioned earlier, a copy of the schedule is included at the end of this thesis as Ap- - 132 - pendix A, so that it may be referred to more easily. Although most of the questions are reviewed in this section, the main intention here is to explain the reasoning behind the interview schedule design and the choice of specific items.

Part I of the interview schedule was concerned with collecting basic data, such as present offence(s), length of sentence, previous convictions, previous periods of incarcer• ation, usual institutional placement (ie., maximum, medium, or minimum), age of the prisoner, ethnic origin, parent's income, parent's occupation, and prisoner's income and occupation. A- part from providing useful background information on the indi• vidual prisoner, responses to these questions provided some in• formation regarding the prisoner's socioeconomic status and helped in assessing the correlation between the degree of pol• iticization and exposure to the criminal justice system. Need- less-to-say, the questions relating to length of sentence, previous convictions, and previous periods of incarceration were designed with this latter problematique in mind.

The questions in Part II were addressed to those prisoners who might be in the process of becoming politicized, but who would possibly have difficulty in expressing their em• bryonic radical views when confronted with demanding questions.

In other words, they were directed more toward personal opinion or philosophy than toward such topics as the sociology of law.

The questions were: 1) Do you feel that you have good prospects for the future? 2) Do you feel that your family background is - 133 -

one of the causes of your criminal behaviour? and 3) Why do you

get into trouble with the law, when most of the people in the

country do not? Prisoner responses allowed for a tentative

prediction of potential for politicization, and for a later

examination of whether or not a respondent falling into a pol•

iticization category could relate his radicalized attitudes to his own life situation.

Part III of the interview schedule again asked the

prisoner to contemplate the relationship between crime and so•

cial class, but this time with more direct reference to the

question of social class. Again there were three questions: 1)

Do you feel that Canadian society has a system of social clas•

ses? 2) Where do you fit into the class structure? and 3) Do you feel that the class you belong to has any influence on your criminal activities? The purpose of these questions was to detect what radical scholars might refer to as "class con• sciousness," which in the context of this paper will be defined as an awareness of the class structure, an ability on the part of the respondent to identify his position in that structure, and an ability to assess the impact of that structure and the position occupied on his developmental patterns and life chanc• es . This attitudinal area has its roots in the writings of the critical criminologists and politicized prisoners, both of whom claim that social inequality in the class structure is one of the primary causes of crime in capitalist society.

In Part IV the respondent was asked: 1) Do you think - 134 - that the criminal justice system is fair? and 2) Are all people treated equally by the law? The intention in this part of the questionnaire was to assess prisoner perspectives on equality in the criminal justice system. The reader will remember Fair- child's contention that prisoners were becoming aware of an ec• onomic bias in the system.

Part V was directed at basic ideology, with the in• tention of eliciting the respondent's acceptance or rejection of some of the more predominant cultural values (eg., that we have a democracy, or that we have freedom). Prisoners were asked: 1) What type of political system do we have in this country? 2) Do we have equal rights and equal opportunities? and 3) Is it possible for a poor person to become rich, or for a rich person to become poor? It was expected that a politi• cized prisoner would lean toward rejection of such social "fic• tions" as equality or mobility.

One of the conclusions of the Fairchild study, as we saw earlier, was that prisoners feel manipulated by a small

"power elite." On the basis of the evidence examined in Chap• ters 2 and 4 of this thesis, it appears that the power struc• ture is of great interest to critical criminologists and pol• iticized prisoners alike. The three questions in Part VI of the survey all dealt with the power structure, and were as fol• lows: 1) Who do you think has the power in this country? 2)

How much power do you have in relation to the overall power structure? and 3) If you wanted to, do you think that you would - 135 - be able to change the society to make it better? The main thrust here was not to elicit feelings of powerlessness (which seemed to be one of Fairchild's major concerns), although the questions evoked this type of response to a certain extent. In• stead, the purpose was to see if the prisoners had a radical• ized perspective on the distribution of power.

The last section of the interview schedule used in determining levels of politicization was Part VII. Questions here were intended to encourage the prisoner to speculate about the origins and purposes of the law. The prisoner was asked:

1) Who decides what will be a crime and what will not be a crime? and 2) Whose interests do those decisions protect? It seems realistic to expect that a politicized prisoner such as

Cleaver or Davis would offer a clearly radicalized response to these questions. While most offenders would not be expected to be as articulate or systematic as Cleaver or Davis, it was felt that for a prisoner to be scored as politicized in this cate• gory, he should be able to offer a rudimentary and critical ac• count of how and why laws are made.

Part VIII, which was not utilized in determining lev• els of politicization, was addressed to prisoners' suggestions for social change. The respondents were asked: 1) What changes, if any, would you like to see in the society? and 2)

How would you go about making those changes? Responses to these questions were used for comparison, to see if those prisoners who answered the earlier questions in a politicized manner - 136 - would be able to make concrete recommendations for desirable social changes, and to outline possible methods for achieving those changes. It was expected that doing this would be more difficult than simply making radicalized observations on var• ious topics, but at the same time it was felt that even a mod• erately politicized prisoner would be able to do this to some extent.

Part IX involved two questions which were asked to• ward the close of the interview, but only of those prisoners who appeared to be making politicized statements. The first question was: 1) You appear to have given a lot of thought to the subject of economics, politics, and crime. You also appear to have picked up quite a bit of knowledge. Where did you do this thinking, and where did you get this knowledge? The se• cond question, which was asked only if the respondent did not mention the prison experience, was: 2) Is it a result of being in prison? The purpose of these questions was to solicit first• hand information from the prisoners, either supporting or re• jecting the second hypothesis that politicization came as a result of exposure to the criminal justice system.

Part X of the interview schedule was a short, ten item quiz on subjects related to general political awareness.

The idea came from Fairchild, who asked prisoners to define po• litical bodies, remember important events, and name political leaders (54). The quiz involved such questions as What does the term SALT mean to you?, Who wrote Soul on Ice?, and Who was - 137 -

Che Gueverra? The prisoner1s score on this quiz was compared to the degree of politicization in each case, firstly to deter• mine whether or not prisoners falling into a politicized cate• gory were also politically aware in a more general sense, and secondly to see if there was an association between general po• litical awareness and degree of politicization.

In general, there is an advantage to the type of format employed in this research over that used by Fairchild.

Each respondent was required to answer exactly the same ques• tions, with the exception of those prisoners who were asked to provide extra information in Part IX because of their apparent politicization. In the case of Fairchild's study, we have no way of knowing exactly what was asked, and how or of whom it was asked. There may be advantages to her more open-ended, intensive approach, but consistency would not be one of them.

In my study, an effort was made to impart a sense of structure to the interview schedule. It started with biograph• ical questions employed with the dual purpose of collecting the necessary background information and of putting the respondent at ease during the initial phases of the interview, and then went through a sequence of questions designed to be progress• ively more difficult and demanding. Above all, there was an attempt in the overall structure to avoid hinting at the nature of the subject matter of the research or foreshadowing the types of questions to come. - 138 -

This is not to say there are no drawbacks to struc• tured interviews. As Schatzman and Strauss point out in their argument for a "natural sociology," the interview creates a

situation of its own, outside of the situation being researched

(55). In addition, there is little doubt that interview sched• ule construction can tend to exclude nuances which might other• wise be noticed through another approach such as in-depth ob• servation and recording (56). These points are worth keeping in mind, but they apply to all studies which employ a formal questionnaire. In the present case, it was felt that the cho• sen methodology was most appropriate, since.an alternative methodology of observation would have to be carried out on a long-term basis, under extremely difficult circumstances, with limited prospects even at that for collecting substantive in• formation on prisoner politicization.

One of the main concerns with political attitude sur• veys is that the politically-oriented questions may encourage similar responses. Bishop, Olendick, and Tuckfarber report on this in "Effects of Question Wording and Format on Political

Atitude Consistency," revealing that the indicators of politi• cal sophistication have continued to rise in public opinion polls, without appreciable evidence of a commensurate increase in educational attainment or interest in political affairs

(57). In the opinion of the authors, the "inflated political attitude consistency" could be attributed to "changes in ques• tion wording and format" (58). While the questions in my study aimed at avoiding this problem as much as possible, there is no, - 139 - way to avoid it completely, short of asking questions totally unrelated to political attitudes. Almost all of the questions were politically-oriented, but they were not framed in such a way as to induce particular expressions of political opinion.

Overall, the structure of the interview schedule proved to be adequate under the circumstances. As we shall see in the next chapter, it solicited the desired information with• in the context of relatively short interviews, and it apparent• ly was objective enough to encourage a wide spectrum of re• sponses, ranging from non-politicized to extremely politicized.

While a few of the questions might have been modified or dis• carded if the survey had been ambitious enough to permit a larger sample for the pre-test, most appear to have been fairly well designed in retrospect, and should be helpful as a start• ing point for future studies of this nature.

G. INTERVIEWING TECHNIQUES

Interviews were conducted in a manner as similar as possible to a normal Classification interview. This was done firstly for the sake of convenience, because the procedure meshed well with my employment-related activities, secondly to minimize disruption of the prison routine, and thirdly to cre• ate an environment which would be reasonably familiar to the prisoner. It could be argued that this would have a negative effect in that prisoners might be less candid in a situation which they associate with authority, but again, the wide range - 140 - of responses (especially those in the extremely politicized category) are indicative of the apparent openness on the part of the respondents.

Interviews at all three prisons were held in offices used by Classification Officers for that purpose, and with the exception of Mission Institution, where they were called solely

for research purposes, prisoners were asked to participate in the survey after they had completed a regular Classification interview. The environment was almost identical to that of a

Classification interview, with the interviewer on one side of the desk, asking questions and recording answers in longhand on a pad of paper, and the prisoner on the other, giving the an• swers. The idea of using a tape recorder was suggested by the

Chairman of the Regional Research Committee, but was rejected after some consideration because of the concern that prisoners might be more reluctant to have their responses recorded in that fashion, and because it was a departure from usual pro• cedures .

As mentioned previously, prisoners were told that participation in the survey was strictly voluntary, and they were advised that neither punishment nor reward would be at• tached to their decision in the matter. They also were assured that all responses would be treated in strict confidentiality, and that none of the information would find its way onto the institutional files. Judging by the number who did partici• pate, it would appear that most prisoners either believed that - 141 -

the survey was unrelated to my prison duties, or that they did not care if it was. Of the five prisoners who did refuse to participate, three were at Mission, where I was not known to the prisoner population. The one at Mountain was an older prisoner who had a reputation for being uncooperative with everybody, and the other at the Reception Centre was a first- timer who was quite anxious and understandably suspicious.

Needless-to-say, prisoners frequently demanded to know what the survey was about as a precondition to their par• ticipation. They were told that if they knew the specific pur• pose of the study, it would bias the results irreparably. Most seemed satisfied with this explanation. Those who persisted were given very general explanations at the close of the inter• view. At no time were the specific details of the study re• vealed, since this information might have affected the re• sponses of future interviewees. Word travels quickly through the "prison grapevine," and there is no doubt that once reveal• ed, the nature of my study would be known throughout the pris• oner population. However, interested prisoners were told that a copy of the thesis would be made available if requested.

In "Of Sociology and the Interview," Benney and

Hughes point out that parties in an interview situation should at least appear to be equal in status (59). Of course this is difficult in a prison, where staff and prisoner roles are clearly distinguished. For that matter it is difficult to a- chieve equality in any interview situation, in that there are, - 142 - by definition, at least two parties with different roles, ob•

jectives, and statuses. As effort was made in this study to minimize the implications of status differential as much as possible. Prisoners, for example, were given complete freedom to choose whether or not to participate. They also were told that there were no "right" or "wrong" responses—that all opin• ions were important.

The questions were posed in as noncommital a manner as possible. Every effort was made to adhere to the interview schedule format, and to avoid leading questions. If a prisoner did not understand a question, it was asked again, but it was not explained to him. There were no unscheduled follow-up ques• tions, regardless of the nature of the responses.

The design of the interview schedule proved helpful

in putting the prisoners at ease. The first series of ques• tions dealing with basic data were comparable to those asked at any initial Classification interview, and hence were familiar to the respondent. The next two parts of the schedule were concerned with social class and crime—a common topic in a ses• sion between a prisoner and his Classification Officer. By the time the more challenging questions came up, the prisoner us• ually was more comfortable with the way things were proceeding.

As mentioned previously, answers were recorded in longhand on writing paper—again similar to routine Classifi• cation procedures. However, only relevant comments were re- - 143 -

corded; no notes were made unless the prisoner was addressing himself to the topic. This may have given some hint as to the type of information sought, but it must be said that all per•

tinent responses were noted, regardless of their political ten•

or. In any event, it would have been impossible to write down

every remark, as many of the respondents talked extensively

about marginally relevant or unrelated subjects.

In summary, interviews were conducted like routine

Classification sessions, except that prisoners were given a

choice regarding participation. This proved to be a very work•

able format, which is not surprising considering the circum•

stances involved. While it may have imposed certain limita• tions, the fact remains that the survey obtained the desired information and allowed for diverse response patterns ranging

from non-politicized to extremely politicized. Given the high percentage of participation, the range of responses, and the

overall results, it may be concluded that the interviewing techniques were acceptable.

H. INTERPRETING THE RESULTS

At the conclusion of the study, there were sixty sets of responses, giving the interview profiles of each respondent, and these responses were then categorized for coding purposes.

Categorization proved relatively easy in cases where the response belonged in a definite group, such as "life sen- - 144 - tence" or "high school graduate." On the other hand, responses to questions aimed at uncovering political attitudes required careful attention, as they sometimes were borderline and open to interpretation. To ensure a degree of standardization, the responses were categorized once by me, then by the thesis su• pervisor, and again by the two of us together. The scoring conventions described in Table 5.3 were followed closely in as• sessing the prisoner responses. The few divergences in inter• pretation which did occur were reviewed, leading to a common scoring decision.

For each attitudinal area tested, the response pat• tern of every respondent was analyzed and assigned a numerical score according to the degree of politicization exhibited. If the response showed no signs of radical political awareness, it was placed in the "non-politicized" category and given a numer• ical score of 1. When the response indicated some radicaliza• tion, but not to any significant extent, it was assigned a score of 2, and placed in the "mildly politicized" category.

Any response exhibiting an appreciable degree of radical pol• iticization was categorized as "moderately politicized," and scored as a 3. Generally speaking, responses falling into this latter category bore some resemblance to the comments of the politicized prisoners whose writings were reviewed in the prev• ious chapter.

The identification of "extremely politicized" pris• oners was left out of this initial process, because it was felt TABLE 5.3 POLITICIZATION INDICATORS Politicization Indicators Questions Non-politicized Mildly Politicized Moderately Politicized

1. Class 1. Do you feel that Cana• No class system, unable Acknowledges class Recognizes class system; Consciousness dian society has a system of to locate own social system; can locate own locates own social class social classes? class, no awareness of class position; denies Acknowledges influence 2. Where do you fit into influence of class influence of class of class background on the class system? background on behaviour background on own be• own behaviour. 3. Do you feel the class haviour . you belong to has any in• fluence on your criminal behaviour? II. Perceptions of 1. Do you think that the Believes that the Believes the criminal Believes that the crim• the Criminal criminal justice system is criminal justice system justice system is basi• inal justice system is Justice System fair? is fair; feels that all cally fair, but cites basically unfair; a law 2. Are all people treated people are treated exceptions; feels that for the rich and a law equally by the law? equally by the law. all people are not al• for the poor. ways treated equally by the law.

III. Acceptance of 1. . What type of political Democratic/Egalitarian Basically democratic, Capitalist system Appropriate system do we have in this system with freedom, but doesn't always functioning on behalf Ideology country? equal rights, and' function as it should; of big business; unequal 2. Do we have equal rights equal opportunities; equal rights if not opportunities a basic and opportunities? upward and downward equal opportunities; feature; upward mobili• 3. Is it possible for a mobility equally harder for a poor man ty very difficult poor person to become rich possible. to become rich, but though not impossible. or a rich person to become possible. poor?

IV. Perceptions of 1. Who do you think has The "people" have the Government officials Power in the hands of big the Power the power in this country? power; acknowledges and elected representa• business interests and Structure 2. How much power do you some personal power; tives have the power; government officials have in relation to the some influence on acknowledges minimal representing them; no overall power structure? social process personal power, slight personal power; no 3. If you wanted to, do possible. ability to influence ability to change you think you would be able social process. process. to change the society and make it better?

V. Beliefs about 1. Who decides what will The "people" and their Government officials Government officials the law be a crime and what will elected representatives; and elected representa• and big business, repre• not be a crime? protects interests of tives; but sometimes senting the interests 2. Whose interests do the "people". deciding on basis of of big business. these decisions protect? own interests. - 146 - that qualification for this group should be based on an overall response pattern, rather than on responses to individual items.

Scoring assessments for this category took place once the cate• gorization of all the responses in the five attitudinal areas had been completed. This allowed for a determination of the consistency of radicalized responses.

After the responses were categorized, the five dimen• sions of prisoner politicization were integrated, to arrive at an overall measure of politicization. There were 17 prisoners in the "moderately politicized" category following this pro• cess, 10 of whom were judged later to be "extremely politi• cized" on the basis of the consistency and quality of their re• sponses. Overall, those regarded as "extremely politicized" exhibited definite signs of politicization in at least four and in some cases all five of the attitudinal areas. On the other hand, those seen as "moderately politicized" showed slightly less ability either to express radical views or to be consis• tent in their responses, usually responding in a politicized manner in three or at the most four of the areas. Respondents in both the "extremely politicized" and "moderately politi• cized" groups scored the maximum 3 points in at least three of the five attitudinal areas, which distinguished them from the other respondents, who did not. Non-politicized prisoners give non-politicized responses in three or more categories, and mod• erately politicized responses in no more than one category.

Those categorized as mildly politicized gave moderately politi• cized responses in less than three categories, or mildly polit- - 147 - icized responses throughout.

During the categorization process the information was entered onto code sheets, and transferred to key punch cards which were then fed to an SPSS computer programme. This re• sulted in a lengthy computer printout, which yielded the quan• titative information presented in the following chapter in the form of tables and statistical associations.

The advantage to this approach was that the need to categorize and assign scores to responses on a reliable basis ensured that the data would be analyzed as "objectively" as the methods permitted. In those cases where subjective interpreta• tion was required, such as with marginal responses or the sep• aration of the "extremely politicized" from the "moderately politicized" prisoners, the decisions were made only after careful comparison to other respondents, detailed examination of overall profiles, and comparison to the comments of recog• nized politicized prisoners (see Chapter 4).

Tau B and Tau C are the measures of association used in this thesis. The Tau measure of association (eg., between politicization and exposure to the criminal justice system) was selected for several reasons:

1. Tau is one of the more widely accepted measures of

association in the social sciences.

2. Tau is unaffected by the size of the sample.

3. Tau C is unaffected by uneven rows and columns, of - 148 -

which there were a number in my study.

Tau = . 2 or greater was regarded as evidence of a relatively moderate strength of association. Although .2 is an arbitrary

cut-off point, it is generally considered acceptable by social

scientists.

I. SUMMARY

At the beginning of this chapter I noted that there

are few other studies on prisoners' attitudes, and only one dealing specifically with the topic of politicized prisoners, that being Fairchild's. The main problems with her study were the small sample and the apparently subjective collection and analysis of the data. The present study attempted to avoid those problems as much as possible, by sampling a greater num• ber of prisoners, and by adopting a more disciplined approach to interviewing techniques and the interpretation of the res• ponses .

I surveyed 60 prisoners at three dissimilar federal institutions, always trying to ensure a randomized sample. A questionnaire was prepared in advance, and with the exception of some minor modifications following the pre-test, it was ad• hered to rigidly. The data were interpreted by myself and the research supervisor separately and then conjointly.

This is not to suggest that my approach was without flaws. The number of respondents could have been greater, and - 149 - the universe somewhat larger. It would have been desirable to increase the sample size by interviewing prisoners at a minimum security institution and a provincial prison. Both would have changed the population profile somewhat, as the former accommo• dates "low risk" prisoners while the latter accommodates those serving sentences of less than two years. However, the sam• pling procedures were dictated to an extent by accessibility and compatibility with my employment; gaining entry to a prov• incial prison would have been difficult, as I was not a provin• cial employee, while arranging interviews at a minimum security facility would have been difficult because of the work program for prisoners, which often involves long hours away from the prison. Under the circumstances, the sampling procedures em• ployed seemed to be satisfactory.

The interviewing techniques were aimed at dispelling as much as possible the artificial situation always created by structured interviewing. By using the same format as routine

Classification interviews, the prisoner was presented with a familiar situation. Although structured questioning necessar• ily limits the possible responses, the interview situation it• self was very "natural" within the prison context.

An important point to consider before going on to ex• amine the findings is whether or not this present study should properly be called an "attitudinal survey." Milton Rokeach po- sits that "an attitude is a relatively enduring organization of beliefs around an object or situation predisposing one to re- - 150 - spond in some preferential manner" (60). One might suggest that the research described in this study is more accurately an "o- pinion survey," an "opinion" being defined here as "a verbal expression of some belief, attitude, or value" (61), since there is uncertainty regarding the durability of prisoners'

"attitudes" on such matters as are investigated in this re• search. In response, I would point out that Watt and Maher,

Mylonas and Reckless, and Alpert and Hicks, whose studies were reviewed earlier in this chapter, all felt comfortable with the term "attitude" when reporting their findings. While this is hardly a sufficient rationale, I want to argue that the overall response profiles which characterize individual respondents in• terviewed in this study reflect more than incidental, unrelated

"opinions," but tap and emotionally linked con• cepts that yield a consistent pattern more akin to the disposi• tional orientations signified by "attitudes." This issue will be discussed further in Chapter 7, when the significance of the findings are reviewed.

FOOTNOTES

1. Norman Watt and Brendan Maher, "Prisoners' Attitudes To• ward Home and the Judicial System," Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology, vol. 49, no. 4, 1958, p. 327.

2. Ibid., p. 330.

3. Anastassios D. Mylonas and Walter C. Reckless, "Prisoners' Attitudes Toward Law and Legal Institutions," Journal of Criminal Law, Criminology, and Police Science, vol. 54, no. 4, Dec. 63, p. 479.

4. Ibid., p. 480.

5. Ibid., p. 481. - 151 -

6. John A. Davis, "Justification for No Obligation Views of Black Males Toward Crime and the Criminal Law," Issues in Criminology, vol. 9, no. 2, Fall 74, p. 75.

7. Ibid., p. 76.

8. Ibid., p. 78.

9. Ibid., p. 70.

10. Ibid., p. 83.

11. Geoffrey P. Alpert and Donald A. Hicks, "Prisoners' Atti• tudes Towards Components of the Legal and Judicial Sys• tems," Criminology, vol. 14, no. 4, Feb. 77, p. 461.

12. Ibid., pp. 462-3.

13. Ibid., pp. 464-6.

14. Ibid., p. 467.

15. Samuel Yochelson & Stanton E. Samenow, The Criminal Per• sonality, Vol. I: A Profile for Change (New York: Aronson, 1976), p. 118, p. 251.

16. Erika Schmid Fairchild, "Crime and Politics: A Study in Three Prisons," doctoral dissertation, University of Wash• ington, 1974, p. 25.

17. Ibid., 310.

18. John Pallas and Bob Barber, "From Riot to Revolution," Issues in Criminology, vol. 7, no. 2, Fall 72, p. 1.

19. Fairchild, op. cit., p. 250, 251, 314.

20. Ibid., p. 38, 50.

21. Erika S. Fairchild, "Politicization of the Criminal Offen• der: Prisoner Perceptions of Crime and Politics," Crimin• ology: An Interdisciplinary Journal, vol. 15, no. 3, Nov. 77, pp. 290-311.

22. Ibid., p. 311.

23. Ibid., pp. 303-4.

24. Ibid., p. 294.

25. Fairchild, "Crime and Politics," pp. 66-7.

26. Ibid., p. 77. - 152 -

27. Ibid., PP . 68-70.

28. Ibid., P- 371.

29. Ibid., P- 179.

30. Ibid., P- 195.

31. Ibid., PP . 178-9.

32. Ibid., PP . 179-81.

33. Ibid., P- 226.

34. Ibid., PP . 195-8.

35. Ibid., P- 199.

36. Ibid., P- 176, 237

37. Ibid., P- 310.

38. Ibid., P- 150, 176

39. Ibid., P- 150.

40. Ibid., P- 162. 41. Leonard Schatzman Strategies for a Natural Sociology (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1973), p. 19.

42. Ibid., pp. 21-2.

43. Canadian Gazatteer Atlas, Supply and Services Canada 1980, p. 129.

44. A. L. Farley, Atlas of British Columbia: People, Environ• ment and Use (University of British Columbia, 1979), p. 5.

45. Harry B. Hawthorn, The Doukhobors of British Columbia , (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1955), p~. 1~, p^ 9~7 p. 16, p. 213.

46. Canadian Gazatteer Atlas, p. 128.

47. Solicitor General Canada, Annual Report 1980 - 1981 (Min• ister of Supply and Services Canada, 1981) , p~. 84. The information in Table 5.1 is condensed from a much larger table with more sub-categories of offences and data for the entire federal prisoner population in Canada. It does not include a small number of prisoners between the ages of 20 and 30, because their offence categorization was not included in my offence categories. - 153 -

48. Ibid., p. 84.

49. Ibid., p. 85.

50. Theodore R. Anderson and Morris Zelditich Jr., A Basic Course in Statistics: With Sociological Applications (New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1968), p. 195.

51. Cf. Richard Schacht, Alienation (New York: Doubleday, 1971), pp. 124-5, pp. 140-7, and Joachim Israel, Aliena• tion: From Marx to Modern Sociology (Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 1971) , p~. 259. Both argue against the tendency of some writers to use the term alienation to describe es• trangement, powerlessness, aloneness, etc., as it often renders the term so vague as to be meaningless.

52. Fairchild, "Crime and Politics," pp. 68-70.

53. Fairchild, "Politicization of the Criminal Offender," pp. 303-4.

54. Fairchild, "Crime and Politics," pp. 369-70.

55. Schatzman and Strauss, op. cit., p. 6.

56. Ibid., p. 72.

57. George F. Bishop, Robert W. Olendick, and Alfred J. Tuch- barber, "Effects of Question Wording and Format on Politi• cal Attitude Consistency," Public Opinion Quarterly, vol. 42, no. 1, Spring 78, pp. 81-2.

58. Ibid., p. 82.

59. Mark Benney and Everett C. Hughes, "Of Sociology and the Interview," Sociological Methods: A Source Book, ed. Norman K. Denzin (Chicago: Aldine, 1970), p. T95.

60. Milton Rokeach, Beliefs, Attitudes, and Values (San Fran• cisco: Jossey Bass , 1968 ), p~. 112 .

61. Ibid., p. 125. - 154 -

CHAPTER 6. SURVEY FINDINGS

This chapter reports the findings of my survey, which was designed to measure prisoner politicization and to deter• mine the extent to which prisoner politicization is related to

exposure to the criminal justice system. The first part of the

chapter will concern itself with a description of the survey

sample, while the latter will examine the response patterns of

the prisoners, to determine the degree of politicization. Apart

from providing an assessment of the degree of politicization

exhibited by the sample, this latter section also will offer

actual responses of the surveyed prisoners, to facilitate com• parison between their views and those of the recognized politi•

cized prisoners whose writings we considered in Chapter 4.

Finally, we will examine the correlation between degree of pol•

iticization and exposure to the criminal justice system.

A. THE SAMPLE

Of the sixty prisoners interviewed, 55 were Cauca•

sian, 3 were Native Indian, and 2 were of other ethnic origins.

One might be surprised by the relatively small number of Native

Indians in the sample, considering the widely held view that

there is a "heavy over-representation of Native people" in Can•

adian prisons (1). As Lane et. al. point out, "Native people

represent the largest single ethnic minority in Canadian pris- - 155 -

ons, both provincial and federal" (2). However, they also re•

port that in 1977 there were only 800 Natives in federal pris•

ons in Canada (3). If Native Indians are the "largest single

ethnic minority" with only 800 in federal prisons, then the

present sample is probably quite representative in terms of the

ethnic origins of prisoners.

Forty-three of the 60 prisoners fell into the twenty

to forty age group. The fact that only one was under twenty is not unusual, considering that most youthful offenders (who often are experiencing their first exposure to the criminal

justice system) are either given shorter sentences, resulting

TABLE 6.1 AGE OF PRISONERS

Age Frequency Percentage

Under 20 1 2

20 to under 30 26 43

30 to under 40 17 28

40 to under 50 12 20

50 or over 4 7

TOTAL 60 100

in their incarceration in provincial prisons, or are placed on probation. Overall, the age range of the sample was fairly broad, ranging from nineteen to sixty-eight years of age. This approximates favourably to the actual age distribution of fed- - 156 - eral prisoners in British Columbia as described in the Solici• tor General1 s Annual Report, which was reviewed in Chapter 5

(4).

Almost half of the prisoners in the sample were serv• ing sentences for property-related offences such as theft, rob• bery, or fraud (see Table 6.2). Some might consider the number of property offenders to be relatively low, considering the ubiquity of property crime, but there are three plausible ex• planations for the offence distribution. Firstly, the Recep-

TABLE 6.2 PRESENT OFFENCE(S)

Type of Offence Frequency Percentage

Property-related 29 48

Sexual 11 18

Drug-related 8 13

Violence-related 6 10

Murder 6 10

TOTAL 60 100

tion Centre/B.C. Penitentiary and Mountain Institution had dis- proportionate sexual offender populations, due to the large

Protective Custody Units in both prisons. Secondly, federal prisoners often are convicted of more serious offences such as murder or drug trafficking, and hence sent to federal prisons - 157 - to serve their longer sentences, whereas property offenders often receive lighter sentences, resulting in their placement

in provincial prisons. Finally, it is an established fact that

British Columbia leads all other provinces in murders, wound- ings, assaults, and rapes (5). In any event, the offence dis• tribution is similar to that in the federal prisoner population in British Columbia (6).

Forty-one of the 60 prisoners were serving current sentences in excess of five years, again indicative of the fact that this study was conducted exclusively in federal prisons.

Had the research been done in provincial prisons, almost all would have been serving sentences of less than two years. It

TABLE 6.3 LENGTH OF CURRENT SENTENCE

Sentence Frequency Percentage

Life 11 18

10 years or over 16 27

Over 5 years, less than 10 years 14 23

2 years to 5 years 19 32

TOTAL 60 100

should be clear, however, that the two major prisoner politici• zation hypotheses of this research would not be nearly as ger• mane for provincial institutions, where incarceration periods - 158 -

are normally limited to two years.

In order to test the second hypothesis, information was collected regarding each prisoner's degree of exposure to the criminal justice system. Fortunately, the distribution was

fairly even in this regard, making it possible to draw inferen• ces about the relationship between exposure and politicization.

The 9 prisoners who claimed no previous exposure were those in• terviewed at the Regional Reception Centre, who were commencing their first period of incarceration.

TABLE 6.4 ESTIMATED TOTAL TIME SERVED IN PRISON

Length of time Frequency Percentage

10 years or over 11 18

Over 5 years, less than 10 years 12 20

2 years to 5 years 15 25

Less than 2 years 13 22

None 9 15

TOTAL 60 100

Table 6.5 shows that the majority of the prisoners usually served the bulk of their sentences in medium security prisons. This is not unexpected, as one half of the interviews were conducted in medium or medium-minimum security prisons.

In any event, the actual distribution is similar to that in the - 159 -

federal prison system, where the greatest number of the prison•

ers are in medium security and the fewest in minimum.

TABLE 6.5 USUAL LEVEL OF SECURITY

Type of prison Frequency Percentage

Maximum 22 37

Medium 35 58

Minimum 3 5

TOTAL 60 100

While slightly more than half (31) ofth e prisoners

TABLE 6.6 EDUCATION LEVEL ATTAINED

Education Level Frequency Percentage

No formal education 1 2

Elementary school 5 8

Some secondary school 25 42

Secondary school graduate 14 23

Some college or university 10 17

University graduate 2 3

Specialized vocation school 3 5

TOTAL 60 100 - 160 - had not completed high school, the balance had either graduated

from high school and/or received post-secondary education. The

relatively high levels of educational attainment could be ac•

counted for, at least in part, by the educational programs in

federal prisons, which make it possible for a prisoner to enter

the system with no formal education whatsoever, and leave with

a university education (assuming that he has the time, inclina•

tion, and ability). In my experience, many federal prisoners

take advantage of these programs, as going to school can be a distraction from lengthy sentences and prison life in general.

Certainly the data in Table 6.6 tend to dispel the stereotype

image of the inarticulate or illiterate prisoner.

Analysis of the prisoners' socioeconomic status was done on the basis of their usual occupation and income, using a

scale which blended elements of the Blishen and Hollingshead

socioeconomic indices (7). The results seen in table 6.7 chal• lenge the conventional association of crime with the lower classes. Thirty-seven of the prisoners (62 per cent of the sample) had incomes in excess of $15,000 per annum, and usually were employed in semi-skilled, skilled, or professional occupa• tions . Of course it is difficult to say to what extent the prisoners have over-reported their socioeconomic status as a result of their preference to be viewed as "" in a society which is commonly regarded as a "middle class society."

However, it is worth noting that I personally was aware of the social background of many of the prisoners, and where I was not, the prisoners would know that I could access their files. - 161 -

Therefore, most probably were not inclined to lie about easily

verifiable details.

TABLE 6.7 PRISONERS' SOCIOECONOMIC STATUS

Socioeconomic status Frequency Percentage

Lower (income under $15,000 p.a.; unskilled labour or habitually unemployed). 23 38

Lower-Middle (income from $15,000-25,000 p.a.; semi• skilled labour, office/ clerical). 27 45

Middle (income from $25,000- 40,000 p.a.; skilled labour, small business, semi- profes• sional ) . 9 15

Upper-Middle (over $40,000 p.a.; managerial, profes• sional, private business). 0 0

Upper (direct ownership of industrial firms, resources,

or real estate). 1 1

TOTAL 60 100

With the exception of using a slightly lower income

index to compensate for the effects of inflation in more recent years on annual earnings, the socioeconomic status of the pris• oners' parents was calculated in the same manner. It is inter•

esting to note that the majority of the prisoners claim to have come from middle or upper-middle socioeconomic backgrounds. To the extent that they are reliable, these statistics appear to - 162 -

suggest a degree of social skidding among the prisoner popula•

tion (8).

TABLE 6.8 PARENTS' SOCIOECONOMIC STATUS

Socioeconomic Status Frequency Percentage

Lower (under $10,000 p.a.; 6 10 unskilled labour or habitually unemployed).

Lower-middle ($10,-20,000 p.a.; 19 32 semi-skilled labour, office/ clerical).

Middle ($20-30,000 p.a.; 18 30 skilled labour, small business, semi-professional, private business).

Upper-middle ($30,000 or more; 14 23 managerial, professional, private business).

Upper (direct ownership of 1 2 industrial firms, resources, or real estate).

TOTAL 60 100

Overall, the sample appeared fairly representative of federal prisoners in Canada. This estimate is premised partly on the wide ranges in such variables as age, length of sen• tence, types of offences, or degrees of politicization, and partly on the comparison made in Chapter 5 to the federal pris• oner distribution in British Columbia as reported by the Soli• citor General in his Annual Report (9). - 163 -

B. PRISONER PERSPECTIVES ON CRIME, POLITICS, AND THE SOCIOECONOMIC SYSTEM

This section will examine both the actual responses of the prisoners in my sample, and present the findings regard• ing their degree of politicization in each of the five attitu• dinal areas tested in the study. All verbatim responses of the prisoners in my sample are in quotation marks, and come from various prisoners, rather than from a select few. At the end of the discussion of each of the attitudinal areas there will be a brief summary of the position of recognized politicized prisoners and new criminologists on the attitudinal area in question, to facilitate comparison between their statements and those of the prisoners in my sample. For more detailed infor• mation on the position of recognized politicized prisoners and new criminologists in these attitudinal areas, the reader is referred to Chapter 4 of this thesis, where the matter was treated at some length.

The first dimension of prisoner politicization (Part

III of the interview schedule) was related to prisoner perspec• tives on the social structure and the relationship between crime and social class. The three questions asked were: 1) Do you feel that Canadian society has a system of social classes?

2) Where do you fit into the class structure? and 3) Do you feel that the class you belong to has any influence on your criminal activities? It was hoped that any radicalized "class consciousness" would become apparent through the prisoners' - 164 - responses. When asked: "Do you feel that Canadian society has a system of social classes?," 55 said yes, 3 said yes with qualifications, and 2 said no. When asked about their position in the class structure, 24 felt that they belonged in the lower or lower-middle classes, 23 stated that they were in the middle class, and 6 identified themselves as upper-middle class. In response to the question "Do you feel that the class you belong to has any influence on your criminal activities?," 14 answered that it had definite influence, 12 that it had some influence, and 2 didn't know; 32 indicated that their social class had nothing to do with their criminal involvement.

On the basis of their responses in this category of class consciousness, 18 prisoners were categorizeed as moder• ately politicized, 32 as mildly politicized, and 10 as non-pol• iticized. In the previous chapter on methodology it was seen that only three categories of politicization were distinguished at first, those being non-politicized, mildly politicized, and moderately politicized. Extremely politicized prisoners were categorized afterwards, on the basis of their consistency in responding in a radicalized manner throughout the interview.

Table 5.3 (which describes the scoring conventions) in Chapter 5 shows that prisoners who said there was no class system, were unable to locate their position in the class structure, and had no awareness of the influence of their class background on their criminal behaviour, were categorized as non-politicized. Those prisoners who acknowledged the exist- - 165 -

ence of a class system and were able to locate their position

in the class structure, but denied the influence of their class background on their criminal activities, were categorized as mildly politicized. Those who immediately recognized the class

system, located their own social class, and acknowledged the

influence of their class backgrounds on their criminal activ•

ities, were categorized as moderately politicized.

One prisoner later placed in the extremely politi• cized category (on the basis of his consistently radicalized responses in all attitudinal areas) said that we have social classes, and that it is "difficult for upward progression." He

felt that others would see him as lower class, but that "I've never thought of myself as lower class. . .1 have thought of myself as impoverished." When questioned about social class as a cause of crime, he said that "If I had a better financial po• sition. . .1 wouldn't have been this way at all, but the dismal made it more than I could handle." Another extremely politicized prisoner placed himself "very low down in the class structure - one step from the bottom. I had a pretty rough childhood." He also felt that his class position was a factor in his criminal behaviour, because his property offences were

"done because I wanted to eat." A third extremely politicized prisoner described himself as "lower income," and said that social class had a definite influence on his criminal activi• ties due to peer group, environment, and "limited opportunity for someone who is poor." - 166 -

Chapter 4 examined the views of recognized politi•

cized prisoners and new criminologists toward the five attitu-

udinal areas tested in my study. As indicated in Chapter 4, on

the dimension of "class consciousness," a politicized prisoner

would 1) be aware of the impact of social class on upward mo•

bility, 2) be. able to identify his position in the class struc•

ture, and 3) be aware of the relationship between social class

and crime. The responses of the three prisoners considered

above meet these criteria.

On the other hand, the responses of the prisoners

categorized as non-politicized or mildly politicized definitely

did not meet these criteria. While almost all agreed that Can•

adian society has a system of social classes, most placed them•

selves in the "middle class" (regardless of their actual class position), and most felt that their social class had little or

no influence on their criminal activities. One prisoner who was later categorized as non-politicized on the basis of his

responses in all five attitudinal areas said that Canada has

social classes "to a limited extent, by income." Another non- politicized respondent said that social class is "created by the person himself. . . . The class you're in depends upon yourself." Neither of these prisoners mentioned the rigidity of the class structure or the barriers to upward mobility.

Typical answers to the question regarding the relationship be• tween crime and social class were "I don't believe this envir• onment stuff" or "No. . .1 know too many people who are not in trouble who have the same financial background and status as I - 167 -

do. "

As can be seen from the statements of those prisoners

judged to be non-politicized or only mildly politicized, they

did not express views indicative of a radicalized "class con•

sciousness." Prisoners in these categories who were able to

formulate any articulated response at all usually emphasized

the role of "the individual" in determining his own social

class, and played down the relationship between crime and so•

cial class. In other words, they subscribed to the cultural

notions of unlimited social mobility and individual responsi•

bility. This is in distinct contrast to the prisoners cate•

gorized as extremely politicized, who tended to adopt a class-

based explanation of crime.

The second dimension of prisoner politicization (Part

IV of the schedule) related to perceptions of the fairness of

the criminal justice system. The prisoners were asked: 1) Do

you think the criminal justice system is fair? and 2) Are all people treated equally by the law? The purpose of questions in

this attitudinal area was to determine whether prisoners feel

that the law is administered on the basis of social class. Ta•

ble 5.3 in Chapter 5 shows that prisoners who believed that the

criminal justice system is fair and felt that all people are

treated equally by the law were categorized as non-politicized.

Those who believed that the criminal justice system is basical•

ly fair, but cited exceptions, and felt that all people are not

always treated equally by the law, were categorized as mildly - 168 -

politicized. Those who believed that the criminal justice sys•

tem is basically unfair, and that there is a law for the rich

and a law for the poor, were categorized as moderately politi•

cized .

Seventeen of the interviewees felt that the criminal

justice system was fair, 40 felt that it was unfair, and 3 were

uncertain. When asked about equal treatment before the law, 5

said that everybody was treated equally, 53 felt that people

were treated unequally, and 2 were uncertain. In this attitu•

dinal area, 33 prisoners were categorized as moderately politi•

cized, 21 as mildly politicized, and only 6 as non-politicized.

The higher incidence of politicized responses in this

attitudinal area was not unexpected, as prisoners are familiar

with the criminal justice system, and because of their incar•

ceration, are likely to feel disappointed with the administra•

tion of justice. To be categorized as moderately or extremely politicized in the final determination of overall degree of

politicization, prisoners were required to respond in a consis•

tently politicized manner in most or all five of the attitudin•

al areas. Only 17 of the 60 prisoners met this requirement in

the final analysis, so higher incidences of politicization in

individual areas evidently had limited impact on the overall

findings.

A prisoner at the B.C. Penitentiary serving an inde•

terminate sentence for rape, gave clearly radicalized answers - 169 -

in this attitudinal area: "I don't think it's [the criminal

justice system] is fair. That's where the class system comes

in. If you're upper class, if you have the money and the rep•

utation, you'll get a different type of justice than people on

the lower end of the scale." This prisoner was eventually cat•

egorized as extremely politicized, as his responses to almost

all of the questions in the interview schedule were comparable

to the above statement in terms of class awareness and radical•

ized outlook. A similar statement, made by an extremely poli•

ticized prisoner serving a three-and-a-half year sentence for manslaughter, was that "guys with the bucks seem to draw ex•

tremely light sentences or walk on their beefs whereas the guys

in the lower class of society that can't afford these big ex• pensive lawyers seem to get the shaft."

One respondent eventually placed in the moderately politicized category said that there is "law for the rich, law

for the poor. . . . Steal a million dollars, you get a little pat on the back. If you need to steal a loaf of bread, you probably get hung." The common theme is encapsulated well in the statement by another moderately politicized prisoner that

"If you've got money, you can wiggle your way out." There is

considerable consensus among both the moderately and extremely politicized prisoners in my survey that "money is all that

counts."

As was the case with prisoner responses in the prev•

ious attitudinal area, the above comments are comparable to - 170 -

those examined in Chapter 4, where recognized politicized pris•

oners and new criminologists were in agreement that the crimin•

al justice system operates in favour of "the wealthy." The

primary difference between their comments and those of the

prisoners in my study was that the former frequently mentioned

that apart from treating "the wealthy" in a different way, the

system is designed specifically to protect "the wealthy."

Again, those prisoners categorized as non-politicized

or mildly politicized could readily be distinguished from the

moderately and extremely politicized prisoners. For example, a

non-politicized prisoner convicted of robbery with violence

said that "they give you a fair trial," and said "sure" when

asked if all people are treated equally by the law. Another

non-politicized prisoner asserted that there is "nothing wrong

with our system," except that some of the people running it

"are more conscious of getting ahead and using the system" for

their own purposes. None of these statements demonstrate radi•

cal awareness of social inequality in the administration of

criminal justice.

The third dimension of prisoner politicization (Part

V of the interview schedule), dealt with prisoner attitudes to• ward the political system, social equality, and social mobili•

ty. Prisoners were asked: 1) What type of political system do we have in this country? 2) Do we have equal rights and equal opportunities? and 3) Is it possible for a poor person to be•

come rich, or a rich person to become poor? The purpose was to - 171 -

encourage the respondent to indicate acceptance or rejection of

some of the more predominant cultural values (eg., that we have

a democracy, or that we have freedom). Following the scoring

conventions (see Table 5.3 in Chapter 5), prisoners who said

that we have a democratic/egalitarian system with freedom, e-

qual rights, and equal opportunities, and that upward and down• ward mobility were equally possible, were categorized as non- politicized. Those who said that the system is basically demo•

cratic, but doesn't always function as it should, that we have

equal rights if not equal opportunities, and that it is harder

for a poor man to become rich, though possible, were categor•

ized as mildly politicized. Those who said we have a capital•

ist system functioning on behalf of big business, with unequal opportunities as a basic feature, and that upward mobility is

extremely difficult, but not impossible, were categorized as moderately politicized.

When asked what type of political system we have in

this country, 17 said majority rule, 11 said minority rule, 15 were uncertain, 13 didn't know, and 4 were unable to offer a response which could be categorized. Nineteen felt that we have social equality, another 19 that we have equality but men• tioned some qualifications, and 21 that we do not have social equality; in this case, only one respondent was uncertain.

Forty-six subscribed to the notion of social mobility, with an additional 9 subscribing with certain reservations. Four said

that mobility was only possible through luck, while one flatly denied the existence of social mobility. Given their overall - 172 -

response patterns to questions in this attitudinal area, only 7

prisoners were categorized as moderately politicized, whereas

25 were categorized as mildly politicized and 28 as non-polit•

icized .

Generally speaking, the prisoners in my study accept•

ed the predominant cultural values. The lack of radical aware•

ness in this attitudinal area is in sharp contrast to that in

the preceding area dealing with perspectives on the criminal

justice system. It could be suggested that predominant cultur•

al values are one of the last areas to be penetrated by a dev•

eloping radical consciousness. Many prisoners who have a radi•

cal outlook on the more familiar and readily observable aspects

of the society, such as the criminal justice system and the power structure, probably have not yet begun to challenge the

very ideological cornerstones upon which the society is prem•

ised .

Those who did score highly in this attitudinal area were clearly radicalized. One response rated as highly polit•

icized was that our political system is a " oligar• chy with slight overtones of democracy." This prisoner went on to say that class structure affects access to equal opportuni•

ties, pointing out that "someone in the East End of Vancouver doesn't have the same opportunities as someone who comes from

Point Grey." A second example of a politicized response to the question on the political system was that it is "supposedly democratic. . .but it seems like big business runs it—Imper- - 173 -

ial Oil, a few others, can dictate what goes on." Another pol•

iticized response on the question of whether we have social

equality was that "they say we do but we really don't. . .

Geared for the middle and upper classes of the society, not for

the lower class. . . .These big businesses are always trying to

overrun smaller businesses—if we had equal rights, the govern•

ment would step in." When asked about the possibilities of so•

cial mobility, this respondent said that it was possible by

winning Loto Canada, but "no other ways unless [the person] has

a rich family member who dies."

The above remarks all suggest rejection of the no•

tions of democracy, social equality, and social mobility. They

are also very similar to the remarks of the recognized politi•

cized prisoners and new criminologists which were examined in

Chapter 4. The remarks of the politicized prisoners in my

study and those examined in Chapter 4 all demonstrate radical

awareness of the influence of the class structure on access to political power, equal rights and opportunities, and upward so•

cial mobility.

On the other hand, the responses of prisoners cate•

gorized as non-politicized definitely demonstrated acceptance of the notions of democracy, social equality, and social mo• bility. When questioned about the type of political system we have, those who were able to formulate an answer at all almost

invariably said "a democracy," whereas many had no knowledge about the political system, and therefore were unable to say - 174 -

anything of relevance. When asked whether we have social mo•

bility and social equality, most gave a flat "yes" as an an•

swer. One slightly more verbose prisoner, later categorized as

non-politicized, said the political system is "more for the working class," that people have "equal rights to express them•

selves," and that upward mobility "all depends on the man's

initiative." These respondents clearly accept the predominant

cultural values.

The fourth dimension of prisoner politicization (Part

VI of the schedule) related to prisoner perceptions of the pow•

er structure. Prisoners were asked: 1) Who do you think has

the power in this country? 2) How much power do you have in

relation to the power structure? and 3) If you wanted to, do you think that you would be able to change the society and make

it better? The purpose of this attitudinal area was1 to see if prisoners had radicalized perspectives on the distribution of power. Following the scoring conventions (see Table 5.3 in

Chapter 5), prisoners who said that "the people" have the pow• er, acknowledged some personal power, and felt that they could have some personal influence on social process, were categor• ized as non-politicized. Those who said that government offi• cials and elected representatives have the power, acknowledged only minimal personal power, and felt that they could have only a slight influence on social process, were categorized as mild• ly politicized. Those who said that power is in the hands of big business interests and government officials representing business interests, and that they had no personal power and no - 175 - ability to influence the social process, were categorized as moderately politicized.

Responses to questions on the power structure tended to be quite radicalized. Thirty of the prisoners believed that the economic elite were the primary wielders of power, while 27 identified the law makers or law enforcers as the powerful; only 3 said that individual citizens have the power. Most saw themselves as relatively powerless: 37 said that they had no power, 18 that they had limited power, and just 4 that they had potentially unlimited power. Forty-two felt that they had lit• tle or no power to change the society; 14 felt they had some power, and 4 were uncertain. With regard to perceptions of the power structure, 29 prisoners were categorized as moderately politicized, 25 as mildly politicized, and only 6 as non-polit• icized .

The high incidence of radical responses in this atti• tudinal area is probably explained by the prisoners' unique po• sition in the power structure. Prisoners are particularly pow• erless, in that they have lost their liberty and the concomi• tant benefits. They have no control over when they wake up in the morning, when they go to bed at night, or what they eat.

They find themselves sent to prison while the powerful are ap• parently able to avoid similar punishment for more serious transgressions. Again, it should be noted that those prisoners categorized as moderately or extremely politicized in the over• all degree of politicization gave consistently radicalized re- - 176 -

sponses over most or all of the five attitudinal areas. A high

incidence of prisoner politicization in one or two categories

did not affect the overall findings, as evidenced by the fact

that only 17 of the 60 prisoners were categorized as signifi•

cantly politicized.

In the opinion of an armed robber eventually cate•

gorized as extremely politicized, "three percent of the people"

have the power. He elaborated, saying that "ninety percent of

the wealth is held by three percent of the people—money is

power." This is a recurring theme among the extremely politi•

cized prisoners in the sample. Typical comments were that the

powerful are "the people with the capital to invest in the

country," "financeers—people with the money," or "top indus•

trialists—they control your newspapers, they control every•

thing." Moderately politicized prisoners also described the

power elite as "the people who control the money flow" or "cor•

porations, presidents of corporations, foreign investors, or multinationals."

Those prisoners categorized as extremely politicized

recognized the limitations on personal power, particularly with

regard to changing the society. Most suggested that collective

action was necessary to achieve social change. When asked about their personal ability to change the society, typical re•

sponses from the extremely politicized prisoners were "not on my own—it would take a very large group of people and a lot of dissension to change the country," or "Revolution is the only - 177 -

change for our country—a people's uprising."

The same elements which were observed in the writings of recognized politicized prisoners and new criminologists in

Chapter 4 are in evidence here. The interviewed prisoners cat•

egorized as moderately or extremely politicized identified the components of the power elite in a manner consonant with radi• cal interpretations, and made accurate appraisals of their per•

sonal position in the overall power structure. Some suggested revolution as the best method for changing the power structure.

A significant difference in response to these questions is that the interviewed prisoners did not mention the rule-breaking and inviolability of the powerful—a topic of particular concern to the new criminologists.

The responses of the non-politicized prisoners were very different from those of the extremely politicized prison• ers. When asked who has the power, a sexual offender at Moun• tain Institution announced that "the people have it—they're the ones that vote." This prisoner thought that he had "as much power as anyone that can cast a ballot." A similar re• sponse was that "the government has the power," but "only if they're supported by the people," and that personal power can be summarized by the phrase: "you have your vote." These re• marks are evidently not critical of the social system or the power structure.

The fifth and last dimension of prisoner politiciza- - 178 -

tion (part VII of the schedule) dealt with prisoner perspec•

tives on the origin and purpose of law. Prisoners were asked:

1) Who decides what will be a crime and what will not be a

crime? and 2) Whose interests do those decisions protect?

These questions were designed to see whether the prisoners

could offer a rudimentary yet critical account of how and why

laws are made. Following the scoring conventions (see Table

5.3 in Chapter 5), prisoners who said that "the people" and

their elected representatives made the law, and that the law

protects the interests of "the people," were categorized as

non-politicized. Those who said that laws are made by gov•

ernment officials and elected representatives, but sometimes on

the basis of their own interests, were categorized as mildly

politicized. Those who said that the laws are made by gov•

ernment officials and big business, representing the interests

of big business, were categorized as moderately politicized.

When asked who defines crime, 40 said that crime is

defined by politicians representing the electorate, and 8 iden•

tified politicians representing themselves. Only 4 felt that

crime was defined by powerful self-interest groups, although 7

did mention that crime was defined by politicians representing

vested interests. When asked whose interests were protected by

those definitions, 39 said the interests of the electorate, 4

the interests of the politicians, and 13 the interests of econ•

omic groups; 4 were uncertain. In this attitudinal area, 11

prisoners were categorized as moderately politicized, 13 as mildly politicized, and 36 as non-politicized. The lower incidence of politicization in this area was predictable. In Chapter 4, it was seen that most recog• nized politicized prisoners are relatively silent on the sub• ject of "who makes the rules and why?" This attitudinal area was deliberately placed last in the questionnaire, as it was expected to pose more difficulties for the prisoners. In Chap ter 5 on methodology, it was seen that the five attitudinal ar eas in the survey were intended to be progressively difficult.

In fact, with the exception of the fourth area concerning per• ceptions of the power structure, this proved to be the case— the incidence of prisoner politicization was higher in the first two areas, and lower in two of the last three areas.

When asked who defines crime, a 50 year old heroin trafficker at Mountain Institution responded: "Ever see a law that was made for a poor man—you never will. . . . Two stan• dards of justice—one for the rich, none for the poor. . . .

Supposed to be done by the people but [the law] is made by a select few—the rich; its made to keep them in power." This prisoner was later categorized as extremely politicized on the basis of his consistently radicalized responses throughout the interview. Another extremely politicized prisoner, a 45 year old heroin trafficker at the Reception Centre/B.C. Peniten• tiary, said that "big money is making the laws," "to protect their property and their power." A 29 year old marijuana im• porter also incarcerated in the RRC/BCP answered that "its money" that defines crime, and that crime is defined in "mon- - 180 - ey's interests—the 1,000 people."

In Chapter 4, which dealt with attitudes of recog• nized politicized prisoners and new criminologists toward the areas tested in my study, it was decided that a politicized prisoner would express the opinion that law is formulated by the capitalist class, and for the capitalist class. The above comments of the extremely politicized prisoners in my survey clearly conform to this description.

On the other hand, the responses of those prisoners categorized as non-politicized were at the other end of the spectrum. The non-politicized prisoners generally said that laws were made by "those in the government who represent the people" or "ordinary working people"; one said that "in the end it comes back to the individual—the people make the laws."

They also felt that laws were made in "the interests of soci• ety" or the interests of "the people of the country." Such statements are evidently not radicalized.

Results in these five attitudinal areas were used to calculate the overall degree of politicization. Again, the five attitudinal areas were class consciousness, perceptions of the criminal justice system, acceptance of appropriate ideol• ogy, perceptions of the power structure, and beliefs about the law. Part I of the interview schedule was designed to collect basic biographical information, which was reported in the first section of this chapter. Part II tested the prisoners' ability - 181 - to relate their radicalized perspectives to their personal cir• cumstances; Part VIII tested the capacity of the politicized prisoners to make recommendations for social changes and means to achieve those changes; Part X was a political knowledge quiz, used to determine whether politicized prisoners were po• litically aware. Parts, II, VIII, and X were intended as cross• checks for prisoner politicization, and their results are re• ported in the next section on overall degree of politicization.

Part IX elicited information on the causes of prisoner politi• cization, and the results are reported in the last section of this chapter, which deals with the effects of exposure to the criminal justice system.

C. OVERALL DEGREE OF POLITICIZATION

After categorizing all of the responses in each of the five attitudinal areas in accordance with the scoring con• ventions described in Table 5.3 in Chapter 5, there was a final assessment regarding the overall degree of politicization. This assessment was made on the basis of the prisoner's consistency in responding in a radicalized manner to questions in all five of the attitudinal areas tested. The more radicalized the an• swers were, and the more areas in which answers were radical• ized, the higher the prisoner's placement in the final analy• sis .

The overall degree of politicization was determined in a manner similar to the initial categorization of responses - 182 - in the five attitudinal areas. Each prisoner's response pat• tern was assessed first by myself, then by the thesis supervi• sor, and then together. Those prisoners who gave non-politi• cized responses in three or more attitudinal areas, and who gave no more than one moderately politicized response, were placed in the non-politicized category. Those who answered in a mildly politicized manner throughout the interview, or who answered in a moderately politicized manner in less than three

TABLE 6.9 OVERALL DEGREE OF POLITICIZATION

Degree of Politicization Frequency Percentage

Moderately politicized 17 28

Mildly politicized 31 52

Non-politicized 12 20

TOTAL 60 100

of the attitudinal areas, were categorized as mildly politi• cized. Those who gave moderately politicized responses in three or more attitudinal areas were categorized as moderately politicized. In the final analysis of the overall degree of politicization, 17 were categorized as moderately politicized,

31 as mildly politicized, and 12 as non-politicized (see Table

6.9) .

Of the 17 categorized as moderately politicized, 10 - 183 - were re-categorized as extremely politicized after further study. Those re-categorized as extremely politicized either gave moderately politicized responses in three of the five are• as and mildly politicized responses in the others, or were scored as moderately politicized in four of the areas. Their overall response patterns were also compared to the statements of the recognized politicized prisoners in Chapter 4, to ensure that those categorized as extremely politicized met a common definition of prisoner politicization. A few moderately polit• icized prisoners who might otherwise have qualified for cate• gorization as extremely politicized on the basis of their scor• ing in each of the attitudinal areas were left in the moderate• ly politicized category because their answers lacked the quali• ty and consistency of the extremely politicized prisoners. Af• ter re-study, then, there were four groups of prisoners, 10 of whom were extremely politicized, 7 moderately politicized, 31 mildly politicized, and 12 non-politicized.

The number in the non-politicized group (12) was rel• atively small, because this designation was reserved for those who gave consistently non-radicalized responses. Prisoners in this group said that Canada is a middle class society with a democratic government, featuring equality, social mobility, and justice for all. Slightly more than one-half (31) were cate• gorized as mildly politicized, because this was a broad cate• gory which encompassed all those who were not clearly non-pol• iticized, but who could not be seen as radicalized. Some mem• bers of this group, gave evidence of nascent politicization, - 184 - but were unable to apply their growing radical awareness on a consistent and thorough basis. While the number categorized as moderately or extremely politicized (17) was not great, it nonetheless represents 28 percent of the respondents, and is therefore indicative of a significant degree of politicization among the sampled prisoners. More will be said on this matter in the concluding chapter.

As seen in Chapter 5 on methodology, responses to questions in Part II of the interview schedule were not used in determining the degree of prisoner politicization. The ques• tions were: 1) Do you feel that you have good prospects for the future? 2) Do you feel that your family background is one of the causes of your criminal behaviour? and 3) Why do you get into trouble with the law, when most of the people in the coun• try do not? The purpose of these questions was to see whether a prisoner categorized as moderately or extremely politicized in the overall degree of politicization could relate his radi• calized attitudes to his own life situation.

Responses to these questions proved to be an accurate predictor of overall degree of politicization, with Tau B = .48

(10). Of the 10 respondents categorized as extremely politi• cized, 8 responded to the questions in Part II in a manner which indicated that they were able to apply their radical per• spectives to their own life situations. One of the remaining 2 extremely politicized prisoners could not be expected to answer in a politicized manner to these questions, because he had a - 185 - middle class family background, a good trade, a respectable ed• ucation, and was serving his first period of incarceration. On the other hand, 42 of the prisoners felt that they had good prospects for their future, 40 felt that family was not a fac• tor in their criminal behaviour, and 32 blamed only themselves for their criminal activities. Only 9 definitely identified society or the environment as causal factors. Therefore, while the results show that the majority of those giving politicized answers to later questions could relate this radical outlook to their own life circumstances, most of the prisoners did not view their life circumstances and their criminal activities in a radicalized manner. The implications of this finding will be discussed in the final chapter.

Those whose response patterns were indicative of some degree of politicization were unsure about their prospects for the future. One said that his life chances were "tenuous—de• pendent upon a lot of factors," while another placed his pros• pects "on a scale of one to ten, edging towards six." Most tended to see their family background as a factor in their life circumstances, saying such things as "definitely. . .1 didn't have a family—fighting, divorce when I was young, generally emotionally deprived upbringing." A heroin trafficker serving a 20 year sentence recalled the "relief lines" during the de• pression, and concluded that his "background had quite a bear• ing." When asked why they got in trouble with the law when most people did not, respondents typically mentioned socioec• onomic inequality or conflict with the goals of the system. A - 186 - common observation was that "everybody has a little bit of lar• ceny in them, but most people don't come to jail." A large- scale marijuana trafficker stated that he "couldn't find a more reputable business to be in," particularly because he "couldn't stand selling people stuff they didn't need or didn't want," like his father did. Another prisoner said that he got into trouble because he became tired of working three jobs; as he put it, he was "always after that mother-fucking money." All of these comments suggest a rejection of the system and its values, and a tendency to appreciate the effect of external factors on an individual's development.

The answers of those seen as non-politicized were at the opposite end of the spectrum. When asked if they had good prospects for the future, these prisoners usually would say simply "yes" or "most definitely." When asked if their family background was to blame, they would answer "no, just myself" or

"just stupidity on my part." One went so far as to say that "I don't believe in that crap. . .the home situation is not like a ball and chain." Generally speaking, they blamed themselves for their life situation; for example, one said that he had a

"bad hand for writing cheques," while another remarked that he was a "high energy person" who liked "sensationalism" and "im• mediate gratification." Many were unable to formulate any re• sponse at all to some of these questions.

Part VIII of the interview schedule asked the prison• ers to outline the types of changes they would like to see in - 187 - society, and to suggest means of achieving those changes. The responses in Part VIII again were not used in assessing the prisoners' overall degree of politicization. Instead, they were intended to assess the degree to which prisoners could trans• late criticism into practical suggestions, especially among those prisoners who were scored as highly politicized.

When asked what social changes they would like to see, only 10 of the 60 prisoners made radical suggestions (see

Table 6.10). Similarly, only 9 subscribed to radical methods

TABLE 6.10 PRISONER PROGRAMS FOR SOCIAL CHANGE

Desired Changes Frequency Percentage

Concrete Radical Suggestions 10 17

Concrete Reformist Suggestions 30 50

Vague Suggestions 15 25

No Suggestions 5 8

TOTAL 60 100

for achieving those changes (see Table 6.11). Most prisoners were unable to relate their radicalized thinking to concrete programs for radical change, as demonstrated by the lack of correlation between the overall degree of politicization and desired changes (Tau C = .17) and between the overall degree of - 188 - politicization and the proposed methods for achieving change

(Tau C = .15).

On the other hand, 6 of the 10 extremely politicized prisoners did offer radicalized answers. One of the members of

TABLE 6.11 PRISONER METHODS FOR ACHIEVING CHANGE

Method of Change Frequency Percentage

Radical Method 9 15

Conservative or Liberal Method 35 58

Combination of Above 1 2

Don 11 Know 9 15

Not Applicable 6 10

TOTAL 60 100

the extremely politicized group suggested that we need "com• plete reconstruction of the division of the wealth, taxation of large corporations, reconstruction of the courts, better treat- raent of minorities." He proposed to achieve these changes through "a worker's revolution, but I don't mean with guns—an economic revolution. . .taking some of the power away from the big corporations." A second suggested that "nobody should ever have to need—opportunities should be there" and felt that the only way to accomplish this is "to have a total revolution- - 189 -

-there's no other way you could do it." A third said that he would like to "see someone like Castro take the country over," and said that this would have to be done "with violence—get the students behind you, change the political system."

In Chapter 4 we saw that recognized politicized pris oners recommended "restructuring" of the society along the lines of socialism or , and advocated "revolution" or

"violence" as the appropriate means to achieve their goal.

There is little difference between their statements and those of 6 of the extremely politicized prisoners in the present study. While almost all of the moderately and mildly polit• icized prisoners were unable to make radical suggestions for change, most of the extremely politicized prisoners were able to apply their radicalized thinking to suggestions for social change.

Part X of the schedule was a short, ten item quiz on subjects related to general political awareness. The results were used to determine whether those prisoners categorized as moderately or extremely politicized in the assessment of the overall degree of politicization were also more politically a- ware in a general sense. All but one of the extremely politi• cized prisoners had scores greater than 6 out of a possible 10 and 7 had scores of 8 or greater. There was a reportable leve of association between overall degree of politicization and general political awareness, with Tau C = .23. - 190 -

Essentially, most of the prisoners who were categor•

ized as extremely politicized in the final analysis gave polit•

icized accounts of their life situations, suggested social

changes and means for achieving social change consonant with

the suggestions or recognized politicized prisoners, and scored well on the general political knowledge quiz. Similarly, with

the exception of Part VIII of the schedule, dealing with sug• gestions for social change (where only the extremely politi•

cized prisoners scored high), the Tau measurements indicate a definite association between overall degree of politicization and other related factors such as radicalized accounts of per• sonal life circumstances (Tau B = .48) and general political knowledge (Tau C = .23). In addition, there was a definite correlation between the overall degree of politicization and the scoring in the five attitudinal areas, with a Tau of over

.50 in each case. This suggests reliability in the determina• tion of the overall degree of politicization.

D. POLITICIZATION AND EXPOSURE TO THE CRIMINAL JUSTICE SYSTEM

In Part IX of the interview schedule, prisoners who appeared to exhibit signs of politicization during the inter• view were asked additional questions which probed for the sources of their politicization. The first question was: 1)

You appear to have given a lot of thought to the subject of ec• onomics, politics, and crime. You also appear to have picked up quite a bit of knowledge. Where did you do this thinking, and where did you get this knowledge? The second question, - 191 - asked only if the respondent did not mention prison as a source, was: 2) Is it a result of being in prison? Responses to these questions were used to provide prisoner opinions on the association between prisoner politicization and exposure to the criminal justice system, which was the second hypothesis tested in my study.

Twenty-five of the 60 prisoners were asked where they had acquired their politicization. This included all of those who were eventually classified as extremely politicized, all but one of the moderately politicized group, as well as 8 of the mildly politicized group. The one moderately politicized prisoner was not (in my opinion) answering questions in a rad• icalized manner during the interview, and therefore was not asked about the source of his radical knowledge. The 8 mildly politicized prisoners who were questioned about the source of their radical knowledge exhibited definite signs of nascent politicization, but were not consistent enough in their over• all response patterns to be categorized as moderately politi• cized in the final analysis.

Of the 25 who were questioned, 9 said that they had acquired their views in prison, 5 mentioned sources other than prison, and 11 felt that their politicization came from a com• bination of sources including prison. The statments of the 25 who were questioned demonstrate that for them, incarceration has been a politicizing experience. A member of the moderately politicized group said that he had become radicalized through - 192 - experience "both in and out," but mostly through dealing with the system and observing how poor people "get shafted"; as he put it, "cons come from busted families, families with prob•

lems ." A member of the extremely politicized group said that his radicalization came entirely through exposure to the crim•

inal justice system and growing up during the Depression, and went on to say that "If I was a young man, I would go into the overthrowing of the government." Another extremely politicized prisoner stated flatly that he "became aware through experience with the criminal justice system." As one extremely politi• cized prisoner put it, "Prison is a hell of an education for anybody."

Essentially, the prisoners identified two main polit• icizing factors in incarceration. Firstly, they said that be• ing imprisoned illustrates starkly the unfairness of the sys• tem, particularly with respect to the way it treats its less fortunate members. One prisoner said that by putting him in prison, they had "thrown it in my face—made it stand out."

Secondly, many attributed their politicization to the media, and to the time they had for reading, watching, listening, and thinking while in prison.

To arrive at a more accurate assessment of the cor• relation between degree of politicization and exposure to the criminal justice system, it was necessary to estimate the length of time served by the prisoners in the sample, using biographical information provided by the prisoners in Part I of - 193 - the survey. Many of the prisoners were unable to remember ex• actly how many jail or prison terms they had served, or the length of those terms, so the data presented in Table 6.12 is only an estimate. The sample was distributed quite evenly in this regard, with the exception of the slightly smaller showing

TABLE 6.12 DEGREE OF EXPOSURE TO THE CRIMINAL JUSTICE SYSTEM

Degree of Exposure Frequency Percentage

No previous exposure 9 15

Minimal exposure (up to two provincial terms) 15 25

Moderate exposure (up to four provincial or two federal terms) 17 28

Extreme exposure (more than four provincial or two federal terms) 19 32

TOTAL 60 100

in the "no previous exposure" group, which would be expected in any case because of the tendency of the justice system to send recidivists to federal rather than provincial prisons. It will be seen that several of the 9 prisoners who had no previous ex• posure to the criminal justice system were also highly politi• cized, and therefore challenged the validity of this second hy• pothesis .

In the intial comparison between the overall degree - 194 - of politicization and the degree of exposure to the criminal

justice system, no reportable association was indicated (Tau C

= .02). However, this was due primarily to the fact that 5 of the 9 prisoners with no previous exposure were scored as moderately politicized. Table 6.13 clearly demonstrates that with the exception of the no previous exposure group, the re• sults conformed to expectations. Most noteworthy is that only

TABLE 6.13 DEGREE OF EXPOSURE VS OVERALL DEGREE OF POLITICIZATION

Degree of Non- Mildly Moderately exposure politicized politicized politicized

No previous exposure 1 3 5

Mild exposure (up to two provincial terms) 5 9 1

Moderate exposure (up to four provincial or two federal terms) 2 11 4

Extreme exposure (more than four provincial or two federal terms) 4 8 7

one from the mild exposure group was categorized as moderately politicized, whereas 4 from the moderate exposure and 7 from the extreme exposure groups were categorized as moderately pol• iticized . - 195 -

After noting the lack of a significant overall rela• tionship between exposure and politicization, and after identi•

fying the "no previous exposure" prisoners as the probable cause for invalidation, a second analysis was conducted omit• ting that category. The results changed significantly, now in• dicating a relatively moderate relationship between politiciza• tion and exposure to the criminal justice system (Tau B = .23).

The impact of these highly politicized first offenders will be discussed in greater detail in the concluding chapter.

Two other factors—related more to quality than to quantity of exposure—were shown to have impact on the overall degree of politicization. Firstly, the length of the current sentence appears to be an important factor (Tau C = .24). This is particularly noticeable with those prisoners serving either life sentences or sentences of ten years or more. Table 6.14

TABLE 6.14 LENGTH OF SENTENCE VS OVERALL DEGREE OF POLITICIZATION

Sentence Non- Mildly Moderately Period politicized politicized politicized

Life 3 2 6

10 years or over 2 7 7

5 to 10 years 2 11 1

2 to 5 years 5 11 3 - 196 - shows that prisoners facing lengthy periods of incarceration are more prone to politicization than those facing much shorter periods. 13 of the 17 prisoners classified as moderately pol• iticized in the initial analysis were serving sentences of ten years or more; only 4 of the moderately politicized group were serving less than ten years.

Secondly, the usual type of institutional placement seems to have a limited effect on politicization. Although the

Tau C of .18 is not regarded as a reportable level of associa• tion, Table 6.15 shows that over half of those falling into the moderately politicized category were usually placed in maximum security prisons. Again, this is related more to the quality of exposure (eg., maximum security) than it is to frequency of exposure.

TABLE 6.15 USUAL INSTITUTION PLACEMENT VS OVERALL DEGREE OF POLITICIZATION

Institutional Non- Mildly Moderately placement politicized politicized politicized

Maximum security 4 9 9

Medium security 7 20 8

Minimum security 1 2 0

Coming back to the relationship between frequency of - 197 - exposure and politicization, it must be noted that while Tau B approached statistical significance after dropping the "no previous exposure" group from the analysis, the degree of poli• ticization exhibited by those serving their first sentence still requires some explanation. If this groups was represen• tative of the degree of radicalization in the general public, then the radicalization exhibited by others in the sample would not seem that remarkable. However, of the 9 who had no prev• ious exposure, 4 were serving life sentences, 2 were serving sentences of 10 years of over, and 2 were serving sentences of over 5 years. As seen above, the length of sentence is an im• portant variable (Tau C = .24). Therefore, a reasonable ex• planation of this anomaly can be advanced on the basis of the politicizing effect of lengthy sentences.

Overall, it appears that there is a direct relation• ship between degree of politicization and exposure to the crim• inal justice system. This is substantiated both by the re• sponses to questions in Part IX of the interview schedule and by the measure of correlation obtained following the deletion of the "no previous exposure" group. In addition, it seems that quality of exposure, such as length of sentence or usual institutional placement, must be accounted for in qualifying the factor of frequency of exposure.

E. SUMMARY

The sample of 60 prisoners was fairly well distribu- - 198 -

ted. The prisoners ranged in age from nineteen to sixty-eight,

and were serving sentences ranging from two years to life for a

variety of offences, including theft, rape, assault, murder,

trafficking, etc. Some claimed to come from lower class back•

grounds and others from upper class backgrounds, although the majority identified themselves as lower-middle or middle class.

They had served time in maximum, medium, and minimum security

prisons.

Of the 60 prisoners, 17 were categorized as moderate•

ly politicized, and 10 of these as extremely politicized. Many of the opinions offerred by those in the extremely politicized group were roughly similar to those of the recognized politi•

cized prisoners whose writings were reviewed in Chapter 4.

Again, there was a complete range of response patterns, from non-politicized to extremely politicized.

There appears to be support for the hypothesis of a relationship between politicization and exposure to the crimin• al justice system. However, this support is weakened by the highly politicized first offenders, who skewed the results somewhat. The findings also showed that quality of exposure, as measured by length of sentence and usual type of institu• tional placement, may be as important as quantity of exposure, as measured by frequency of incarceration.

It is time now to consider these findings within the context of critical criminology, and to adjudge the signifi- - 199 -

cance which should be attached to them.

FOOTNOTES

1. Rosie Douglas, Penal Reform, Community Development, and Social Change: Overview from a Canadian Perspective (Mon• treal : Mondiale, 1975), p. 2~.

2. E.B. Lane, H.W. Daniels, J.D. Blyan, and R. Royer, "The Incarcerated Native," Canadian Journal of Criminology, vol. 20, no. 3, July 78, p. 308.

3. Ibid., p. 310. The Regional Research Officer also advised me that the majority of incarcerated Native Indians are found in the Prairie Provinces and Ontario.

4. Solicitor General Canada, Annual Report 1980-1981 (Minis• ter of Supply and Services Canada, 1981), pp. 84-5.

5. Cf. Ezzatt Abdul Fattah, A Study of the Deterrent Effect of Capital Punishment with Specific Reference to the Cana• dian Situation (Ottawa: Information Canada, 1972), pp. 96- 8, p. 165.

6. See Table 5.1 in Chapter 5.

7. Bernard R. Blishen and Hugh A. Roberts, "A Revised Socio• economic Index for Occupations in Canada," Canadian Review of Sociology and Anthropology, vol. 13, no. 1, 1976, pp. 71-3. August B. Hollingshead, Two Factor Index of (New Haven, Conn.: Yale Station 1965).

8. While there is not sufficient data to offer any definite conclusions, it seems that further research on this topic is indicated, as it is possible that some criminal invol• vement is related to perceptions (real or imaged) of so• cial skidding. More will be said on this matter in Chap• ter 7.

9. Cf. Chapter 5, Tables 5.1 and 5.2. Also cf. Solicitor General, op. cit., pp. 84-5.

10. For an explanation of the Tau measurement of association, see Chapter 5, Section G. Tau B = .2 is generally accept• ed as a reportable level of association.

11. This topic is reviewed in Chapter 7, where evidence is presented to suggest that such radicalization is not typ• ical in the general public. - 200 -

CHAPTER 7. CONCLUSION

A. INTRODUCTION

The interrelationship between critical criminology and the concept of the politicized prisoner has been emphasiz• ed throughout this study. The new criminologists were the first to show serious interest in this subject; indeed, they were actively involved in raising the political consciousness of prisoners. Fairchild's pioneering study on politicized pris• oners evolved from this radical criminology background, as did mine to a certain extent. There is no doubt that the present study is influenced by critical criminology, or for that mat• ter, that it would not have taken place if it were not for the preliminary efforts of Fairchild and others of the new crimin• ologist ilk.

The results of my study tend to support the observa• tions made by Fairchild and other researchers from the ranks of the new criminologists—there does appear to be a significant degree of politicization among the respondents in my sample.

Of the 60 prisoners sampled, 17 were scored as moderately or extremely politicized, and of those 17, almost all made state• ments comparable to those of recognized politicized prisoners such as George Jackson, or Eldridge Cleaver. As an aside, it is worth noting that several of the prisoners categorized as mildly politicized could have been scored higher if more lib- - 201 -

eral interpretation techniques had been employed, which would have increased the number of prisoners regarded as being sig• nificantly politicized. As it is, fully 28 percent of the re•

spondents met or exceeded the stringent politicization require• ments, demonstrating clearly that in terms of the criteria em• ployed in this study, they deserved the of "politicized prisoners."

The balance of this chapter will concern itself with an assessment of the significance of the findings, and of the possible future impact of the politicization phenomenon on pri• sons. Various side issues and potential areas for future re• search also will be explored.

B. THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE FINDINGS

In The Prison: Policy and Practice, George Hawkins questions the novelty of the radicalization process in pri• sons, and asks whether or not this prisoner politicization "is a genuinely revolutionary movement" (1). He points out that the actual demands of the prisoners during the Attica uprising were "remarkably innocuous," contrary to the descriptions of• fered by the media and the new criminologists of the revolu• tionary nature of the prison revolt (2). When looking at the list of demands prepared by the prisoners of Attica, he obser• ves that "most of it could easily have been compiled by a group of white Anglo-Saxon Protestant prison reformers" (3). - 202 -

To some degree, Hawkins' observation also applies to

the results of my study. While there is definite evidence of

politicization among the sampled prisoners, most were unable

to apply their radical set of attitudes to suggestions for so•

cial change. Only 10 prisoners made radical suggestions for

social change, and only 9 espoused radical methods for achiev•

ing change. As seen in the previous chapter, there was no sig• nificant correlation between the overall degree of politiciza• tion and either prisoner programs for change (Tau C = .17) or prisoner methods for achieving change (Tau C = .15), although most of the prisoners falling into the extremely politiczed category scored high in this area.

Similarly, only 11 prisoners offered radicalized ac• counts of the development and function of criminal law. The questions on the sociology of law were expected to present dif• ficulties, because to be scored as moderately politicized, re• spondents were required to provide a radical analysis of a so• cial phenomenon which is seen by many people as an embodiment of the expressed consensus of the majority. Again, those cate• gorized as extremely politicized tended to answer in a radical• ized fashion, but the number who were unable to do this (49) demonstrates clearly that most are a considerable distance from the type of politicization exhibited by Cleaver of Jackson.

The implications for critical criminology are self- evident. If most prisoners are in fact unable to appreciate the class nature of law, or to have radical ideas for social - 203 - change, then the expectation of some critical criminologists that the prisoner movement will be transformed into a revolu• tionary force may be overly optimistic. While an appreciable number of the sampled prisoners showed evidence of some nascent politicization, only the 10 extremely politicized prisoners answered all or most of the questions in a consistently radi• calized manner.

As promised in the methodology chapter, we will now reconsider the durability of these prisoner "attitudes" toward crime, politics, and the socioeconomic system, and for that matter, the appropriateness of calling them "attitudes." Why should these expressions of radicalization be seen as anything more than bits of shallow rhetoric or products of a fad which might disappear tomorrow? Chapter 2 on Critical Criminology and the Politicized Prisoner, included a discussion of the in• dependent observations made by Irwin and Jacobs that prisoner activity is shifting from radically-oriented disturbances to intergang warfare for control of the prison economy (4). As• suming that their observations are accurate, then the depth and durability of these prisoner "attitudes" or "opinions" must be questioned.

In Beliefs and Values, 1970, Karl Schiebe says that

"it is incorrect to view beliefs and values as constant person•

al entities. When a person enters a behavioural setting, oper•

ative beliefs and values emerge which depend upon both personal dispositions and the social (public) definition of that set- - 204 - ting" (5). Certainly the prison could be described as such a setting, where the environment itself could have a strong ef• fect upon the beliefs, attitudes, or values of the incarcera• ted.

Rokeach says much the same in Beliefs, Attitudes and

Values, 1968, when he starts with the assumptions that beliefs vary in importance to the individual, and that the centrality of the belief determines its flexibility and durability (6).

He goes on to make valuable distinctions between an "opinion," which he describes as "a verbal expression of some belief, at• titude, or value," (7) "beliefs," which are defined as "infer• ences made by an observer about underlying states of expectan• cy, " (8) an "attitude," described as "a relatively enduring or• ganization of beliefs," (9) and a "value," which "unlike an at• titude, is an imperative to action, not only a belief about the preferable but a preference for the preferable" (10). There is a hierarchy in Rokeach's distinctions, ranging from opinion, which may be shallow and flexible, to values, which are ex• tremely durable. As he puts it, "an adult possesses thousands of attitudes toward specific objects and situations, but only several dozens of instrumental values and perhaps only a few handfuls of terminal values" (11).

Within the context of these definitions provided by

Shiebe and Rokeach, it seems fair to say that the remarks of the prisoners may be indicative of "attitudes" toward crime, politics, and the socioeconomic system. This is particularly - 205 - true in the case of those prisoners who responded to questions in a consistently radicalized manner, and who made radical sug• gestions for social change. That their attitudes were acquired in prison, and may change following release, does not diminish the appropriateness of designating them as such. Both Schiebe and Rokeach allow for the possibility of attitudinal change, especially under stressful circumstances. On the other hand, it would be inappropriate to designate these attitudes as "val• ues," as this would require significantly more substantiation.

Nevertheless, it is difficult to believe that any of the prisoners categorized as extremely politicized would soon forget their radicalized insights. Judging by their response patterns, they would not unlearn their perspectives on socio• economic inequality, the political system, the power structure, or the sociology of law. A prisoner who believes that the pow• er is in the hands of 1000 "capitalists," or that criminal law is a tool of the "ruling class" is not likely to suddenly change his mind and decide that power is shared equally, or that law is in the interests of "the people." All of the ex• tremely politicized and most of the moderately politicized pri• soners showed clearly that their radicalized perspectives were well thought out, and not superficial, during both the inter• views and the interpretation of the results.

This brings us back to Irwin's observation that pri• soners in the United States are shifting away from political activities. While they may be losing interest in active con- - 206 - frontation due to repressive measures on the part of prison authorities, this does not signify that the politicized pris• oners of the 1970s have simply forgotten their radicalized per• spectives. More likely they have retained their attitudes, but have either become disillusioned with the futility of their ef• forts to change the system, or decided that the present prison climate is not conducive to revolutionary activity.

The issue is central to critical criminology's inter• est in the politicized prisoner. With most prisoners unable to apply any radical attitudes which they might have to a radical program for change, and those with the ability unwilling to promote revolutionary activity behind bars, critical criminol• ogy 's hope for the development of a revolutionary force from the ranks of the prisoners may be thwarted. That some prison• ers have become more politically aware does not necessarily signify a continuing growth in revolutionary consciousness.

At this juncture, a consideration of whether or not these prisoner attitudes might better be described as "tech• niques of neutralizaiton" is essential. Sykes and Matza define

"techniques of neutralization" as "defenses to crimes, in the form of justifications for deviance that are seen as valid by the delinquent but not by the legal system or society at large"

(12). Among the examples cited are "denial of responsibility" by blaming social conditions, or saying that property crime is acceptable because the rich can afford it (13). Both examples could be used to describe the response patterns of the polit- - 207 -

icized prisoners in my study.

Indeed, Brody argues in his article on "The Political

Prisoner Syndrome" that a prisoner adopts this "political pris• oner" role because "it absolves [him] of all blame for his pre• dicament" (14). According to Brody, the prisoner rationalizes his property offences by saying that they are "a program of ec• onomic redistribution," by projecting the blame in such a way that "he then becomes not the agressor but the victim" (15).

In talking to prisoners, he became aware of their belief that

"those inside were the victims and those outside (society and

'the system') were the real criminals" (16).

Of course one must keep in mind Brody's own position on this subject. In the subtitle to his article he refers to the politicized prisoner phenomenon as the "Latest Problem of the American Penal System," and in his conclusions he attempts to identify possible methods for controlling or diffusing pris• oner politicization (17). Evidently he has decided that this is a "problem" in need of a solution. Nowhere, however, does he demonstrate that these prisoner attitudes are superficial, or that prisoners adopt them only because of their advantages in justifying deviance.

Fairchild also mentions that the prisoners in her study had adopted the political model of crime after incarcer• ation, and speculates that for some the model was adopted as a rationale for their criminal activities (18). Again, there is - 208 - no proof offered to support this assumption. To make a proper assessment one way or the other, it would require in-depth testing to determine the centrality of the prisoners' beliefs and the extent to which they used their radical rhetoric to justify their criminal activities. Fairchild's methodology did not encompass such testing.

The present study made no attempt to evaluate the ex• tent to which radicalized prisoner attitudes might be regarded as techniques of neutralization. Therefore, no evidence can be offered one way or the other. However, it is noteworthy that of the 17 prisoners categorized as moderately or extremely pol• iticized, 4 did not blame either the class system or their family background for their involvement with the law, while 8 were willing to accept partial personal blame; only 5 blamed their troubles solely on the socioeconomic system. Most gave accounts involving some degree of personal responsibility, re• gardless of how tough their socioeconomic background was. If these prisoners are adopting radicalized attitudes for the pur• pose of justifying their criminal activities, then it seems reasonable to expect that they would reject any notion of per• sonal responsibility.

Furthermore, it is noteworthy that of the 10 pris• oners categorized as extremely politicized, all but one had scores greater than six out of a possible ten on the political knowledge quiz at the end of the questionnaire. In fact 7 had scores of eight or higher. There was a significant relation- - 209 -

ship between overall degree of politicization and general pol•

itical awareness, with Tau C = .23. While the quiz was not

particularly demanding, the results still suggest that the in•

terest of the extremely politicized prisoners in political

affairs goes past a simple explanation of their own predica• ment. It seems that their interest in politics—both at home and around the world—is quite keen, and that they have gather•

ed more than a little information along the way. Again, this is not the type of behaviour one might expect from a prisoner who is interested in radical politics only as an excuse for his criminal activities.

Before going on to consider the impact of the politi• cization phenomenon on prisons, it is worthwhile to compare the response patterns of the politicized prisoners to those of mem• bers of the general public. In "Public Images of Law in Bri• tish Columbia," Wachtel et. al. interviewed 93 people in dif• ferent areas of British Columbia regarding their views on the law and (19). Their sample was fairly ex• tensive despite rather purposive sampling procedures: they in• terviewed retired people, housewives, blue collar workers, paraprofessionals, professionals, and managers, ranging in age from 19 to 76 (20). Most respondents blamed family problems or delinquency on "individual failings" or "family pathology"

(21). Wachtel et. al. "were surprised at the refusal of

[their] respondents to see delinquency . . . as a class-related problem" (22). They concluded that with respect to the views of members of the general public on laws and juvenile delin- - 210 -

quency, "radical perspectives have not penetrated very deeply

(23) .

This is in sharp contrast to the response patterns

the politicized prisoners in my study, who clearly had devel•

oped radical attitudes towards the law and delinquency. This

cannot be overlooked in assessing the significance of my find

ings. While neither the present study nor the Wachtel study

are necessarily conclusive, the evidence certainly suggests

that some prisoners tend to be more politicized than most mem bers of the general public, at least with respect to subjects

such as the law and delinquency.

C. THE FUTURE IMPACT ON PRISONS

As seen in the previous chapter, there is some sup• port for the notion that exposure to the criminal justice system, and incarceration in particular, has an effect upon prisoner politicization. Twenty of the 25 prisoners who were questioned about the development of their radicalized con• sciousness mentioned prison as either the sole factor or one the major factors. After dropping the first-timers from the calculation, there was statistical proof of an association between prisoner politicization and exposure to the criminal justice system (Tau C = .23). Also important was the quality of the exposure, as determined by length of sentence (Tau C - 211 -

Given this apparent relationship, one might wonder

about the long term impact of the politicization phenomenon on

the criminal justice system in general, and on prisons in par•

ticular. While there may be some merit to Irwin's observation

that political activity is one the decline in United States prisons, (24) one should question whether or not prisoner pol•

iticization is simply submerged in the face of increasingly repressive measures by prison authorities. The political ac• tivities may re-emerge at some time in the future, given the right conditions or impetus.

In any case, the results of my study confirm that there is a reportable level of politicization among the sample population. In addition, the incidence of prisoner unrest in

British Columbia has remained unchanged at the very least, if it has not increased. For example, the riot in Matsqui Insti• tution at Abbotsford, B.C. in 1982 resulted in extensive damage to the living units of the prison—so extensive, in fact, that prisoners were quartered in tents in the exercise yard for a considerable period of time. Another example is the riot at the Prince George Correctional Centre in April 1983, which in• volved damage to the facility in excess of $2.5 million. While there is no proof that these riots were influenced by "radical" elements in the prisoner populations, it is nonetheless evident that wholesale destruction of this magnitude would require some degree of prisoner organization and commonality in objec• tives. Apparently prisoners have not forgotten the efficacy of organized, large-scale insurrection. - 212 -

Robert Martinson, in his paper on "Collective Behav•

iour at Attica," describes the contemporary prison disturbance

as an "expressive mutiny," intended to make the public aware of

the prisoner's plight (25). He goes on to say that "it is a

new form of disturbance, not merely a temporary reflection of

new left influence among a group of politicized black convicts"

(26). Ursala Kasperowski's assessment of the prisoners' rights movement in Canada is much the same: "Until the socio-political

factors contributing to crime are publicly acknowledged, vio•

lence in Canadian prisons will continue" (27). Given my find•

ings, and the ongoing prisoner unrest in recent years, there might be more than a little truth in their predictions, at

least where Canada is concerned.

Prison authorities may experience problems with pris• oner politicization for some time to come. So too may authori• ties throughout the entire criminal justice system. As sug• gested previously, offenders are not likely to lose these rad• ical perspectives once they have acquired them. There is evi• dence of problems now. With a sudden and/or substantial in• crease in politicization, the problems could grow to unmanage• able proportions.

This potential problem area is complicated by the fact that exposure to the criminal justice system, and espe• cially to the prison system, is politicizing in itself. Fre• quency of exposure, length of sentence, and institutional - 213 - placement all are factors. In other words, the system may be

reinforcing or actually producing prisoner radicalization. To

complicate matters further, there is evidence to suggest that

some of the recent first timers are already radicalized before

coming to prison (28). These two factors could sustain the politicized prisoner phenomenon indefinitely.

In Chapter 2, on "Critical Criminology and the Polit•

icized Prisoner," we speculated about the potential of Irish prisons to breed a new politicized prisoner movement. In his book On the Blanket, Coogan describes the Irish prisoner pro• test aimed at obtaining "political prisoner" status for incar•

cerated members of the IRA (29). The prisoners wanted their

special status recognized through rights such as wearing per•

sonal attire, abstaining from penal labour, or associating

freely with other prisoners (30). The protest consisted of nu• dity, passive resistance, refusing all orders, and dirtying of

cells with everything imaginable, including excrement (31).

Retaliatory measures taken by the prison authorities apparently ranged from denial of such small privileges as books and cig• arettes, to beatings, unnecessary gassings, and threats against the prisoners' families (32).

According to Coogan, support for the IRA has in• creased as a result of these protests, both inside and outside of prison (33). He also says that because of the problems and protests, conventional prisoners are beginning to feel "an ever-growing alienation from 'the system,' from 'their' notion - 214 -

of 'law' and 'their' order" (34). He predicts more large-scale

prison disturbances in the future as a result of this growing

political awareness (35). A spillover effect is suggested, whereby conventional offenders are supporting and identifying with the politically-oriented rebellion of the IRA prisoners.

Unfortunately, Coogan does not address the topic of prisoner politicization directly, so inferences cannot be drawn easily from his report. The situation he describes, however, bears remarkable resemblance to that in the United States in the 1970s, wherein a small group of politically active prison• ers (the Black Panthers) were successful in promoting radical ideation behind the prison walls. If the IRA are successful in their endeavours, then Irish prison authorities may find that conventional offenders are becoming politicized. Certainly all the elements are in place for the development of a strong, rad• icalized prisoners' movement.

The foregoing assessment indicates that prisoner pol• iticization may continue to be a significant factor in prisons in Canada, Ireland, and the United States. The phenomenon will not vanish simply because prison authorities, penologists, and the more orthodox criminologists want it to. Needless-to-say, if an increasing number of criminals come to believe that they are the "victims" rather than the predators, they could become a potent threat to the "good order" of the entire justice sys• tem. Prison authorities and other representatives of the crim• inal justice system will have to develop strategies to cope - 215 -

with these politicized offenders.

These predictions require some qualification. Ear•

lier in this chapter it was seen that most of the respondents

in my study were unable to articulate a program for social

change. This suggests that the new criminologists should not

expect a full-scale revolutionary movement behind bars, at

least not in the near future. The future is more likely to be

one of administrative difficulties and crises than one of rev•

olutionary activity, unless the new criminologists or some oth•

er prisoners' rights organization is able to rekindle that rev•

olutionary fervour which was so noticeable in prisons during

the late 1960s and early 1970s.

D. OTHER RELATED ISSUES

Four secondary issues which arose during this study merit further consideration. Those issues, in the order of discussion, are the relationship between socioeconomic status

and crime, the possibility that social skidding contributes to criminality, the relationship between socioeconomic status and politicization, and the youthful first offenders who apparently were politicized before incarceration.

In Chapter VI it was seen that on the basis of re•

sponses to questions regarding socioeconomic status, 27 of the

60 prisoners sampled were categorized as lower-middle class, 9 as middle class, and one as upper class. The socioeconomic - 216 -

status of the parents was higher yet, with 18 categorized as middle class, 14 as upper-middle class, and one as upper class.

It must be kept in mind that the scale approximated a socio•

economic index rather than a thorough analysis of social class,

and that information was gleaned strictly from the self reports of prisoners. Nevertheless, it seems appropriate to make some comments on these findings, particularly considering that crit•

ical criminology emphasizes the relationship between crime and social class.

Fairchild made similar observations in her study.

She discovered that 15 of the 24 prisoners sampled came from lower-middle to upper-middle income brackets (36). She de• cided that the family backgrounds of her respondents did not support the notion that offenders come from poverty-stricken backgrounds, and concluded that the composition of prison pop• ulations is becoming more middle class (37).

Tittle et. al. raise this issue in their paper cal• led "The Myth of Social Class and Criminality." They argue that "There is good reason to question whether the evidence does in fact demonstrate that the social status of individuals is related inversely to criminal or delinquent behaviour" (38).

Examining what they say are the relatively few studies avail• able on social class and crime, they found that "the data as a whole show only a very slight negative relationship between social class and crime/delinquency," with an overall gamma of

-.09 (39). In fact, they claim that any relationship that once - 217 -

existed is disappearing quickly (the gamma drops from -.31 in

1950-59 to -.13 in 1960-69 to -.03 in 1970) (40). They con•

clude that "numerous theories developed on the assumption of

class differences appear to be based on false premises" (41).

Yet in "The Myth of Social Class and Criminality Re•

considered," Braithwite attacks the findings of Tittle et. al.,

saying that there have been 203 studies on the relationship be- ,

tween crime and social class, not only 35, as claimed by Tittle

et. al. (42). He points out that studies on crime in develop•

ing countries consistently link crime with the lower classes,

and in his analysis shows that an overwhelming number of stud•

ies on all types of societies support the notion of this rela•

tionship (43) :

The conclusion is. . .inescapable from the voluminous. . .evidence available at this time that lower class people do com• mit those direct interpersonal types of crime which are normally handled by the police at a higher rate than middle class people. (44)

Braithwaite is forced to admit, however, that "if . . we are talking about those less interpersonal forms of crime which involve the abuse of the power inherent in occupational roles. . .then, of course, the reverse is true" (45). Unfor• tunately, it seems that his definition of crime eliminates all offence groups like price-fixing, commercial fraud, or victim• less acts from the study (46). In other words, he systemati• cally excludes the categories of offences which those people of - 218 -

higher socioeconomic status are likely to be involved in and

prosecuted for, and then finds that crime is related to lower

socioeconomic status.

It must be kept in mind that none of these studies

are definitive. Those of Fairchild and myself were not intend•

ed to be studies on the relationship between crime and social

class. On the other hand, the review studies by both Tittle

et. al. and Braithwaite suggest unresolved methodological con•

troversies. The point is that the unsubstantiated inverse re•

lationship between class and crime poses some problems for

critical criminology, because most of the new criminologists

assume that crime is caused by the socioeconomic inequalities

engendered by the capitalist .

In support of theories linking crime to socioeconomic

status, it must be noted that merely 9 of the 60 prisoners in

my study were categorized as middle class, and only one as up•

per class; the remaining 50 were either in the lower or lower-

middle class. But 45 percent of the prisoners were categorized

as lower-middle class, the criteria being annual earnings be•

tween $15,000 and $25,000, and gainful employment involving more than unskilled labour. In other words, almost half of the

respondents were gainfully employed in occupations demanding

definite work skills, and were earning more than enough money

to survive without resorting to criminal activities. While the

analysis here lacks sophistication, and a substantially greater

number of offenders still are members of the lower or lower- - 219 - middle class, these results do seem to challenge the image of the criminal as a lumpenproletarian.

The lack of relationship is more pronounced when it comes to the social class of the prisoners' parents, where 18 were categorized as middle class, 14 as upper-middle class, and one as upper class. It seems that 55 percent of the prisoners come from econmically secure family backgrounds—not deprived backgrounds, as one might expect. Assuming that these findings are fairly accurate, then it must be agreed firstly that neith• er the majority of the prisoners nor their parents come from seriously deprived socioeconomic backgrounds, and secondly that there is a definite disparity between the socioeconomic status of the prisoners and that of their parents.

While my study was not intended to measure either the degree of social skidding or its influence upon criminal activ- ites, this very noticeable disparity between the socioeconomic status of the prisoners and that of their parents does indicate that some social skidding is occurring where social skidding is defined simply as the act of dropping from a higher socioecono• mic status to a lower.

Apart from the above-mentioned disparity, several prisoners answered the questions on social class and crime in a manner suggesting that their criminal activities were actually a response to a perceived social skidding. One prisoner, whose parents owned two hotels and had an annual income of $80,000, - 220 -

said that the high standard of living during his childhood got him accustomed to expensive material comforts, which he could not afford on a cook's wages of $20,000 per year. As a result, he turned to robbery, theft, and fraud. He explained his crim• inal activities by saying that "nobody likes to go downhill."

Another prisoner, who earned $12,000 a year as a salesman and as a bus driver, came from a family background where his father had a steel business and yearly earnings of approximately

$70,000. The prisoner said "I'd like to think that I fit into the upper class, but really I fit into the lower class." He went on to say that "I want that higher class stuff, but I don't have the money, so I tend to look for the easy road to getting it." In both cases a relationship between social skidding and criminality is strongly suggested.

Of course there is nothing conclusive in these obser• vations. Dealing with the issue of social skidding properly would require significantly more data on socioeconomic status and a list of questions directed almost exclusively at prison• ers' opinions on the effect of social skidding upon themselves.

The issue is raised here only to indicate that there is some evidence to suggest a relationship, and to recommend more sys• tematic investigation.

Another area where the prisoners' socioeconomic status appears to have an effect is in degree of politiciza• tion. 8 of the 10 extremely politicized prisoners and 5 of the

7 moderately politicized prisoners were of lower or lower-mid- - 221 -

die socioeconomic status. Keeping in mind that the status des•

ignations may not be totally accurate, and that this was not an

area specifically examined in the study, it still seems that

the relationship between socioeconomic status and politiciza•

tion deserves further investigation.

One further issue deserving further attention is the

relationship between age and/or exposure to the criminal jus•

tice system and degree of politicization. Three of the 10 ex• tremely politicized prisoners had no previous exposure, and one had only minimal previous exposure; 3 of the 4 were under 30 years of age. In Chapter 6, it was seen that these prisoners skewed the reults of the cross tabulation of degree of exposure vs. degree of politicization. After the "no previous exposure" group was dropped from the calculation, however, a clear rela• tionship between exposure and politicization emerged. While this lent some support to the hypothesis that exposure to the criminal justice system has an effect on prisoner politiciza• tion, it did not explain the presence of these young first of• fenders who were already politicized.

The possibility might be raised that the politici• zation levels of these first offenders reflect those of the general public. Earlier in this chapter, though, a brief syn• opsis of the Wachtel et. al. study of "Public Images of the

Law" was offered, which essentially found that radical atti• tudes toward the law and other social institutions "have not penetrated very deeply" into the general public of British Co- - 222 -

lumbia (47). Unless these findings are discounted, it is more

probable that the attitudes of these first offenders are not

representative of those held by the general public.

It may be that length of sentence—quality of expo•

sure—was a factor in the relatively high degree of politiciza•

tion of this age group. The 4 extremely politicized prisoners who had no previous exposure or minimal previous exposure were

serving sentences of three-and-a-half years, five years, ten years, and life. They may have been very bitter toward a so• ciety which imprisoned them for so long, for what would be their first or second conviction. If this explanation is ac• cepted, then it seems that any trend in the criminal justice system toward longer sentences could increase prisoner politi• cization levels perceptibly.

Other explanations do not appear to apply. The edu• cational levels, family background, and socioeconomic status do not seem to be factors, at least as far as this small sample of of four prisoners is concerned. Perhaps trends would emerge if the sample was larger. Certainly the apparent politicization of young first offenders requires further investigation, with a much larger sample and an interview schedule aimed at obtaining more specific information on the issue.

E. SUMMARY

As mentioned in the introductory remarks to this - 223 -

chapter, the results of my study lend support to critical crim•

inology's assertions that there are significant numbers of pol•

iticized prisoners, at least in the case of British Columbia prisons. On the other hand, the likelihood of these prisoners becoming the type of revolutionary force envisioned by some of the new criminologists appears remote. Despite this qualifica• tion, however, it seems that this politicization phenomenon is still alive, and that it may continue to create problems for prison administrators.

In "Politicization of the Criminal Offender," Fair- child makes reference to the "increasing politicization of prisoners," (48) and predicts that "a growing proportion of to• day's offenders is likely to find a political model of crime and punishment. . .more in keeping with its perceptions" (49).

While this may be true, she offers no evidence to substantiate either that politicization levels are higher now than they were before, or that they will continue to increase. To establish that she'is correct, a number of longitudinal studies would be required. The present study might be regarded as support for the notion that prisoner politicization is increasing, but un• fortunately, it is difficult to determine exactly what levels of politicization she found, and therefore exactly how much politicization has increased, if it has increased at all.

It would be interesting to replicate my study with a much larger sample, some revisions in the interview schedule format, and a more thorough approach to the issues of socioec- - 224 -

onomic status and criminality, socioeconomic status and prison•

er politicization, and the younger first offenders. This would provide answers to some of the unanswered questions raised in

the study, assess the durability of the politicized prisoner phenomenon, and determine whether or not prisoner politiciza•

tion is increasing.

Overall, the study accomplished its objectives. The

initial plan was to test the hypotheses that there are signif• icant levels of prisoner politicization and that this politi• cization is related to exposure to the criminal justice system.

This was done, although the findings should be regarded as ten• tative due to the relatively small sample and some minor imper• fections. Under the circumstances, it was an informative re• search endeavour which produced some insights into prisoner at• titudes that can serve as the basis for more detailed and theo• retically specific studies of the prisoner politicization phen• omenon .

FOOTNOTES

1. Gordon Hawkins, The Prison: Policy and Practice (Chicago: U of Chicago Press, 1976), p. 74.

2. Ibid., pp. 75-6.

3. Ibid., p. 76.

4. John Irwin, Prisons in Turmoil (Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1980), p. 147, pp. 151-2, p. 192, pp. 206-11; James B. Jacobs, "Stratification and Conflict Among Prison In• mates," Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology, Vol. 66, no. 4, 1976, p. 478.

5. Karl E. Scheibe, Beliefs and Values (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1970 ), p~. 86. - 225 -

6. Milton Rokeach, Beliefs, Attitudes, and Values (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1968), p. 3^

7. Ibid., P- 125.

8. Ibid., P- 1.

9. Ibid., P- 112.

10. Ibid., P- 160. 11. Ibid., p. 162.

12. Gresham M. Sykes and David Matza, "Techniques of Neutral• ization: A Theory of Delinquency," American Sociological Review, Vol. 22, no. 6, Dec. 75, p. 666.

13. Ibid., p. 667.

14. Stuart A. Brody, "The Political Prisoner Syndrome: Latest Problem of the American Penal System," Crime and Delin• quency, vol. 20, no. 2, April 74, p. 99.

15. Ibid., p. 100, p. 101.

16. Ibid., p. 103.

17. Ibid., pp. 105-6.

18. Erika Schmid Fairchild, "Crime and Politics: A Study in Three Prisons," doctoral dissertation, University of Wash• ington, 1974, p. 50.

19. Andy Wachtel, Carol Pitcher-LaPrairie, and Brian E. Burtch, "Public Images of Law in British Columbia: An Ex• ploratory Study of Views on Law Touching on the Family, Juvenile Delinquency, and Livelihood," unpublished, p. XIV.

20. Ibid. , P- 17.

21. Ibid., P- 123, p. 169.

22. Ibid. , P- 172. 23. Ibid., pp. 217 -18.

24. Irwin, op. cit ., p. 112, p. 192

25. Robert Martinson, "Collective Behaviour at Attica," Federal Probation: A Journal of Correctional Philosophy and Practice, Sept. 73, Vol. 36, no. 3, p. 3. - 226 -

26. Ibid., p. 3.

27. Ursala Kasperowski, "Prisoners' Rights: A Political Pur• suit," M.A. Thesis, University of Toronto, 1978, p. 32.

28. Cf. Irwin, op. cit., pp. 103-4. More will be said on this subject later.

29. Tim Pat Coogan, On the Blanket: The H Block Story (Dublin: Ward River Press, 1980), p. 4, 6, 9, 48.

30. Ibid., P- 48.

31. Ibid., PP . 6-7.

32. Ibid., PP . 9-12.

33. Ibid., P- 177.

34. Ibid., P- 238.

35. Ibid., P- 240.

36. Fairchild, op. cit., p. 78.

37. Ibid., p. 78.

38. Charles R. Tittle, Wayne J. Villemez, and Douglas A. Smith, "The Myth of Social Class and Criminality: An Em• pirical Assessment of the Empirical Evidence," American Sociological Review, vol. 43, Oct. 78, p. 644.

39. Ibid., p. 647.

40. Ibid., pp. 648-9.

41. Ibid., p. 654.

42. John Braithwaite, "The Myth of Social Class and Criminal• ity Reconsidered," American Sociological Review, Vol. 46, no. 1, Feb. 81, pp. 36-7.

43. Ibid., p. 38, p. 41.

44. Ibid., p. 49.

45. Ibid., p. 49.

46. Ibid., pp. 37-8.

47. Wachtel et. al. op. cit., pp. 217-18.

48. Erika S. Farichild, "Polticization of the Criminal Offen• der: Prisoner Perceptions of Crime and Politics," Crimin• ology, vol. 15, no. 3, Nov. 77, p. 301. - 227 -

49. Ibid., p. 313. - 228 -

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Alpert, Geoffrey P. and Donald A. Hicks. "Prisoners' Attitudes Towards Components of the Legal and Judicial System." Criminology. Vol. 14, no. 4, Feb. 77.

Anderson, Theodore R. and Morris Zelditch Jr. A Basic Course in Statistics; With Sociological Applications. New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1968.

Attica: The Official Report of the New York State Special Com• missions on Attica. New York: Bantam Books, 1972.

Balbus, Issac D. "Commodity Form and Legal Form: an essay on the 'Relative Autonomy' of the Law." The Sociology of Law: A Conflict Perspective. Eds. Charles E. Reasons and Robert M. Rich. Toronto: Butterworth's, 1978.

Beirne, Piers. "Empiricism and the Critique of Marxism on Law and Crime." Social Problems• Vol. 26, no. 4, April 79.

Benney, Mark and Everett C. Hughes. "Of Sociology and the In• terview." Sociological Methods: A Source Book. Ed. Norman K. Denzin. Chicago: Aldine, 1970.

Bishop, George F., Robert W. Olendick and Alfred J. Tuchbarber. "Effects of Question Wording and Format on Political Atti• tude Consistency." Public Opinion Quarterly. Vol. 42, no. 1, Spring 79.

Blishen, Bernard R. and Hugh A. Roberts. "A Revised Socioecon• omic Index for Occupations in Canada." Canadian Review of Sociology and Anthropology. Vol. 13, no. 1, 1976.

Braithwaite, John. "The Myth of Social Class and Criminality Reconsidered." American Sociological Review. Vol. 46, no. 1, Feb. 81.

Brody, Stuart A. "The Political Prisoner Syndrome: Latest Problem of the American Penal System." Crime and Delin• quency. Vol. 20, no. 2, April 74.

Browning, Frank. "Organizing Behind Bars." Ramparts. Vol. 10, no. 8, Feb. 72.

Bucholz, Erich, Richard Hartmann, John Leckschas, and Gerhard Stiller. Socialist Criminology: Theoretical and Methodol• ogical Foundations. Trans. Ewald Osers. England: Saxon, 1974.

Canadian Gazatteer Atlas. Supply and Services Canada, 1980. - 229 -

Caron, Roger. Go Boy: Memories of a Life Behind Bars. Toron• to: McGraw-Hill, 1978.

Carson, W. G. "The Sociology of Crime and the Emergence of Criminal Laws: A Review of Some Excursions into the So• ciology of Law." Deviance and Social Control. Eds. Paul Rock and Mary Mcintosh. London: Tavistock, 1974.

Chambliss, William J. "The Law of Vagrancy." Crime and the Legal Process. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1969.

Chambliss, William J. "The Political Economy of Crime: A Com• parative Study of Nigeria and the U.S.A." Critical Crim• inology. Eds. Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1975.

Chambliss, William J. "Toward A Political Economy of Crime." The Sociology of Law: A Conflict Perspective. Eds. Charles E. Reasons and Robert M. Rich. Toronto: Butterworth1s, 1978.

Chambliss, William J. and Robert B. Seidman. Law, Order, and Power. Reading, Mass.: Addison-Wesley, 1971.

Chrisman, Robert. "Black Prisoners, White Law." The Black Scholar. April - May 71.

Cleaver, Eldridge. Post-Prison Writings and Speeches. Ed. Rob• ert Scheer. New York: Random House, 1967.

Cleaver, Eldridge. Soul on Ice. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1968.

Clinard, Marshall B. Sociology of Deviant Behaviour. New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1974.

Clinard, Marshall B. and Richard Quinney. Criminal Behaviour Systems: A Typology. New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Win• ston, 1967.

Clinard, Marshall B. and Peter C. Yeager. "Corporate Crime: Issues in Research." Criminology: An Interdisciplinary Journal. Vol. 16, no. 2, Aug. 78.

Cluchette, John. "On Prison Reform." If They Come in the Morning: Voices of Resistance. Ed. Angela Y. Davis. New York: Joseph Okpaker, 1971.

Cohen, Stanley. "Criminology and the Sociology of Deviance in Britain: A Recent History and a Current Report." Deviance and Social Control. Eds. Paul Rock and Mary Mcintosh. London: Tavistock, 1974.

Cohen, Stanley and Laurie Taylor. Psychological Survival: The Experience of Long Term Imprisonment. Harmondsworth: Pen- - 230 -

guin, 1972.

Cohen, Stanley and Jock Young. The Manufacture of News: So• cial Problems, Deviance and the Mass Media. Eds. Stanley Cohen and Jock Young. London: Constable, 1973.

Comrade Robert. Maximum Security: Letters from California's Prisons. Ed. Eve Pell. New York: Dutton, 1972.

Coogan, Tim Pat. On the Blanket: The H Block Story. Dublin: Ward River Press, 1980.

Culhane, Claire. "The B.C. Pen: A Microcosm." Makara. Vol. 2, no. 3.

Culhane, Claire. "The B.C. Pen: A Responsibility." Makara. Vol. 2, no. 4.

Davis, Angela Y. If They Come in the Morning: Voices of Re• sistance . Ed. Angela Y. Davis. New York: Joseph Okpaker, 1971.

Davis, John A. "Justification of No Obligation: Views of Black Males toward Crime and the Criminal Law." Issues in Crim• inology. Vol. 9, no. 2, Fall 74.

Desroches, Fred. "Patterns in Prison Riots." Canadian Journal of Criminology and Corrections. Vol. 16, 1974.

Douglas, Catherine, Joan Drummond, and C.H.S. Jayewardene. "Adminstrative Contributions to Prison Disturbances." Canadian Journal of Criminology. Vol. 22, no. 2, April 80.

Douglas, Rosie. Penal Reform, Community Development, and So• cial Change: Overview from a Canadian Perspective. Mon• treal: Mondiale, 1975.

Downes, David. "Praxis Makes Perfect: A Critique of Critical Criminology." Deviant Interpretations: Problems in Crim• inological Theory. Eds. David Downes and Paul Rock. Ox• ford: Martin Robertson, 1979.

Erikson, Erik H. and Huey P. Newton. In Search of Common Ground. New York: Norton, 1973.

Fairchild, Erika S. "Crime and Politics: A Study in Three Prisons." Doctoral dissertation. University of Washing• ton, 1974.

Fairchild, Erika S. "Politicization of the Criminal Offender: Prisoner Perceptions of Crime and Politics." Criminology. Vol. 15, no. 3, Nov. 77.

Farley, A.L. Atlas of British Columbia: People, Environment and Use. University of British Columbia, 1979. - 231 -

Fattah, Ezzatt Abdul. A Study of the Deterrent Effect of Capi• tal Punishment with Specific Reference to the Canadian Situation. Ottawa: Information Canada, 1972.

Fitzgerald, Mike. Prisoners in Revolt. Harmondsworth: Pen- quin, 1977.

Hall, Stuart. "Deviance, Politics, and the Media." Deviance and Social Control. Eds. Paul Rock and Mary Mcintosh. London: Tavistock, 1974.

Hall, Stuart, Chas. Critcher, Tony Jefferson, John Clarke, and Brian Roberts. Policing the Crisis: Mugging, the State, and Law and Order. London: McMillan, 1978.

Haskell, Martin and Lewis Yablonsky. Criminology; Crime and Criminality. Second edition. Chicago: Rand McNalley, 1978.

Hassan, Alfred. Maximum Security; Letters from California's Prisons. Ed. Eve Pell. New York: Dutton, 1972.

Hawkins, Gordon. The Prison: Policy and Practice. Chicago: U. of Chicago Press, 1976.

Hawthorn, Harry B. The Doukhobors of British Columbia. West- port, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1955.

Hollingshead, August B. Two Factor Index of Social Position. New Haven, Conn.: Yale Station, 1965.

Huff, Ronald. "Unionization Behind Bars." Criminology. Vol. 12, no. 2, Aug. 74.

Huston, Terry L. "Prisons: A Marxist Position." Monthly Re• view . Vol. 25, no. 6, Nov. 73.

Irwin, John. Prisons in Turmoil. Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1980. :

Israel, Joachim. Alienation: From Marx to Modern Sociology. Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 1971.

Jackson, George. Blood in My Eye• New York: Random House, 1972.

Jackson, George. Soledad Brother: The Prison Letters of George Jackson. New York: Coward-McCann, 1970.

Jackson, George. "Towards the United Front." If They Come in the Morning: Voices of Resistance, Ed. Angela Y. Davis. New York: Joseph Okpaker, 1971.

Jacobs, James B. "Stratification and Conflict Among Prison In- - 232 -

mates." Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology. Vol. 66, no. 4, 1976.

Juviler, Peter H. Revolutionary Law and Order: Politics and Social Change in the USSR. New York: Free Press, 1976.

Kasperowski, Ursala. "Prisoners' Rights: A Political Pursuit," M.A. thesis. University of Toronto, 1978.

Kellough, D.G., S.L. Brickley, and W.K. Greenaway. "The Poli• tics Of Incarceration: Manitoba, 1918-1939." The Canadian Journal of Sociology. Vol. 5, no. 3, Summer 80.

Krisberg, Barry. Crime and Social Privilege: Toward a New Criminology. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1975.

Lane, E.B., H.W. Daniels, J.D. Blyan, and R. Royer. "The In• carcerated Native." Canadian Journal of Criminology. Vol. 20, no. 3, July 78.

Law Enforcement Assistance Administration. A Survey of Inmates of Local Jails 1972: Advance Report. U.S. Department of Justice, National Criminal Justice Information and Statis• tics Service, Washington, D.C.

Lockwood, Lee. Conversation with Eldridge Cleaver. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1970.

Marion Prison Collective. "Network Building: Notes of a Prison Collective." Crime and Social Justice: A Journal of Radi• cal Criminology. Spring-Summer 76.

Martinson, Robert. "Collective Behaviour at Attica." Federal Probation: A Journal of Correctional Philosophy and Prac• tice . Vol. 36, no. 3, Sept. 73.

Minor, W. William. "Political Crime, Political Justice, and Politicized Prisoners." Criminology. Vol. 12, no. 4, Feb. 75.

Mintz, Robert. "Interview with Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young." Issues in Criminology. Vol. 9, no. 1, Spring 74.

Mylonas, Anastassios and Walter C. Reckless. "Prisoners' At• titudes Toward Law and Legal Institutions." Journal of Criminal Law, Criminology, and Police Science. Vol. 54, no. 4, Dec. 63.

Newton, Huey P. "Prison, Where is Thy Victory?" If They Come in the Morning. Ed. Angela Y. Davis. New York: Joseph Okpaker, 1971.

Packer, Herbert L. "Offences Against the State." The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science. - 233 -

Vol. 339, Jan. 62.

Pallas, John, and Bob Barber. "From Riot to Revolution." Is- sues in Criminology. Vol. 7, no. 2, Fall 72.

Piatt, /Anthony M. The Child Savers: The Invention of Delin• quency. Chicago: U. of Chicago Press, 1969, 1977.

Piatt, Anthony M. and Lynn Cooper. Policing America. Eds. An• thony Piatt and Lynn Cooper. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1974.

Piatt, Tony. "Prospects for a Radical Criminology in the U.S. A." Critical Criminology. Eds. Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975.

Piatt, Tony and Paul Takayi. "Intellectuals for Law and Order: A Critique of the new 'Realists'." Crime and Social Jus• tice. Fall-Winter 77.

Posner, Richard A. Antitrust Law: An Economic Perspective. Chicago: U. of Chicago Press, 1976.

Quinney, Richard. Class, State, and Crime: On the Theory and Practice of Criminal Justice. New York: McKay, 1977.

Quinney, Richard. "Crime Control in Capitalist Society: A Critical Philosophy of Legal Order." Critical Criminolo• gy. Eds. Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young. Lon• don: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975.

Quinney, Richard. Critique of Legal Order: Crime Control in Capitalist Society. Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1974.

Quinney, Richard. "The Production of Criminology." Criminolo• gy . Vol. 16, no. 4, Feb. 79.

Quinney, Richard. The Social Reality of Crime. Boston: Lit• tle, Brown & Co., 1970.

Reasons, Charles E. "The Politicizing of Crime, the Criminal, and the Criminologist." The Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology. Vol. 64, no. 4, Dec. 73.

Rich, Robert M. The Sociology of Criminal Law: Evolution of Deviance in Anglo-American Society. Toronto: Butter- worth's, 1979.

Rokeach, Milton. Beliefs, Attitudes, and Values. San Francis• co: Jossey-Bass, 1968.

Schact, Richard. Alienation. New York: Doubleday, 1971.

Schafer, Stephen. "The Concept of the Political Criminal." Journal of Criminal Law, Criminology, and Police Science. - 234 -

Vol. 62, no. 3, 1971.

Schatzman, Leonard and Anselm L. Strauss. Field Research; Strategies for a Natural Sociology. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1973.

Scheibe, Karl E. Beliefs and Values. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1970.

Schichor, David. "The New Criminology: Some Critical Issues." The British Journal of Criminology. Vol. 20, no. 2, Jan. 80.

Schroeder, /Andreas. Shaking it Rough: A Prison Memoir. Tor• onto: Doubleday, 1976.

Smith, Joan and William Fried. The Uses of the American Pris• on: Political Theory and Penal Practice. Lexington, Mass.: Heath, 1974.

Snider, Laureen D. "Corporate Crime in Canada: A Preliminary Report." Canadian Journal of Criminology. Vol. 20, no. 2, April 78.

Solicitor General Canada. Annual Report 1980-1981. Minister of Supply and Services Canada, 1981.

Spitzer, Stephen. "Toward a Marxian Theory of Deviance." So• cial Problems. Vol. 22, no. 5, June 75.

Sumner, Colin. "Marxism and Deviance Theory." The Sociology of Crime and Delinquency: The New Criminologies. Ed. Paul Wiles. New York: Barnes & Noble, 1977.

Sykes, Gresham M. and David Matza. "Techniques of Neutraliza• tion: A Theory of Delinquency." American Sociological Re• view. Vol. 22, no. 6, Dec. 75.

Taylor, Ian, Paul Walton and Jock Young. "Critical Criminology in Britain: Review and Prospects." Critical Criminology. Eds. Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975.

Taylor, Ian, Paul Walton and Jock Young. The New Criminology: For a Social Theory of Deviance. London: Routledge & Ke• gan Paul, 1973.

Tittle, Charles R., Wayne J. Willemez, and Douglas A. Smith. "The Myth of Social Class and Criminality: An Empirical Assessment of the Empirical Evidence." American Socio• logical Review. Vol. 43, Oct. 78.

Wachtel, Andy, Carol Pitcher-LaPrairie, and Brian E. Burtch. "Public Images of Law in British Columbia: An Exploratory Study of Views on Law Touching on the Family, Juvenile - 235 -

Delinquency, and Livelihood." Unpublished.

Wade, Wendall. "The Politics of Prison." The Black Scholar. April-May 71.

Ward, David A. "Inmate Rights and Prison Reform in Sweden and Denmark." The Journal of Criminal Law, Criminology and Police Science. Vol. 63, no. 2, 1972.

Watt, Norman and Brendan Maher. "Prisoners' Attitudes Toward Home and the Judicial system." Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology. Vol. 49, no. 4, 1958.

Wolfe, Alan. "Political Repression and the Liberal Democratic State." Monthly Review. Vol. 23, no. 7, Dec. 71.

Wright, Erik Olin. The Politics of Punishment; A Critical An• alysis of Prisons in America. New York: Harper & Row, 1973.

Yochelson, Samuel and Stanton E. Samenow. The Criminal Person• ality, Vol. I: A Profile for Change. New York: Aronson, 1976.

Young, Jock. "Left Idealism, Reformism and Beyond: From New Criminology to Marxism." Capitalism and the Rule of Law: From Deviancy Theory to Marxism. Eds. Bob Fine et. al. London: Hutchinson, 1979.

Young, Jock. "Working Class Criminology." Critical Criminol• ogy. Eds. Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young. Lon• don: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975. - 236 -

Appendix A

INTERVIEW SCHEDULE

1) Present offence(s) 2) Sentence 3) Previous Convictions (number, types) 4) Length of sentence 5) Usual institutional placement 6) Age of prisoner 7) Ethnic Origin 8) Parent's income 9) Parent's occupation 10) Prisoner's income 11) Prisoner's occupation 12) Prisoner's education

II. 1) Do you feel that you have good prospects for your future?

2) Do you feel that your family background is one of the causes of your criminal behaviour?

3) Why do you get into trouble with the law, when most of the people in the country do not?

III. 1) Do you feel that Canadian society has a system of so• cial classes?

2) Where do you fit into the class structure?

3) Do you feel that the class you belong to has any in• fluence on your criminal activities?

IV. 1) Do you think that the criminal justice system is fair?

2) Are all people treated equally by the law?

V. 1) What type of political system do we have in this coun• try? 2) Do we have equal rights and equal opportunities?

3) Is it possible for a poor person to become rich, or a rich person to become poor?

VI. 1) Who do you think has the power in this country?

2) How much power do you have in relation to the overall power structure? - 237 -

3) If you wanted to, do you think that you would be able to change society to make it better?

VII. 1) Who decides what will be a crime and what will not be

a crime?

2) Whose interests do those decisions protect?

VIII. . 1) What changes, if any, would you like to see in the so• ciety? 2) How could you go about making those changes?

IX. 1) You appear to have given a lot of thought to the sub• ject of economics, politics, and crime. You also ap• pear to have picked up quite a bit of knowledge. Where did you do this thinking, and where did you get the knowledge?

2) (Is is a result of being in prison?)

X. 1) Who is the Prime Minister of Canada?

2) Who is Ralph Nader?

3) Prior to the recent federal , what was Jean- Jacques Blais' position in the federal government?

4) What does the term SALT mean to you?

5) Who is the leader of the official opposition in the federal government in Canada?

6) Who wrote Soul on Ice?

7) Who is-the Ayatollah Khomeini?

8) What do you know about the situation in Uganda at this time?

9) Which political party is in power in B.C. at the pre• sent time?

io: Who was Che Gueverra?

Top View