Ministry of misfits

It was an interesting experience, meeting up with Ken Clarke, Jeremy Paxman and selected inmates of Highdown Prison last week. Not personally of course '“ astonishingly behind bars was not invited to participate in the discussions '“ but in the greater reality of television.

The special Newsnight programme was a treat nonetheless, with Paxman shown striding around various well-accoutred cells talking to their inmates about crime and punishment.

As it was Highdown, which houses short-term prisoners, the crimes were mundane, shop lifting to feed a drug habit, burglary and, puzzlingly, one man whose charge of aggravated burglary was reduced to 'fraud'.

Technophobic as I am, I did long for interactive telly so I could shout: 'How did THAT happen?' Paxman took the same approach to the incarcerated as he does to everyone: barking a question he is interested in getting an answer to, with no pussyfooting tact. It was more on the lines of 'but you did a very bad thing '“ aren't you sorry?' than anything in the touchy feely line. The prisoners responded well to that approach, and he got some honest answers.

The main body of the programme was a round table discussion with Ken Clarke, invited audience members, and what must have been extremely carefully selected prisoners sitting beside wary-looking prison officers, on the edge of their seats one felt, presumably with hidden handcuffs and stun guns under the chairs. What an opportunity there for 'broken Britain' to demonstrate its lawlessness '“ the minister of justice protected from the criminal underclass merely by a bit of carpet space and a small dais!

Where's the big idea?

In reality, it was a lot less rowdy than Paxo shows often are, and everyone behaved nicely. But Clarke looked uneasy throughout, as if he was composing an extremely sharp memo to the political adviser who had said this was a great idea. There was a good deal of the Emperor's new clothes about his appearance: there he was, in the heart of his mandate, without any big ideas to share. More importantly, without even any small effective ideas which are what is sorely needed in the criminal justice system. It was the same old stuff '“ there is too much post-prison recidivism and it needs to be reduced, and community sentences should not be a soft option and must be made tougher.

The general consensus seemed to be that short sentences were useless and that overall prison was ineffective in curbing crime. One contributor though, somewhat reminiscent of that irritating house elf in Harry Potter who punished himself severely for bad thoughts, said that the long sentences he had served in the past did 'work'. Why he was then back inside was not explored.

The only big idea was from an inmate '“ that people should be sentenced to a job. No one was rude enough to say that that might be the only way of getting a job soon, and the idea was rather passed over '“ but it is the crux of the case for many people stuck within the cycle of inside-outside-inside again. Without security, function and usefulness outside in the real world there are insufficient ties to bind them to the challenging life outside '“ but of course guaranteeing jobs to ex-prisoners is not what governments do. Imagine the outcry and the tabloid headlines if they did '“ decent working men and women unemployed while crims live off the fat of the land!

It would be like the grim debate over how much education to give the foundlings at Coram's Hospital in the 19th century, just enough so they could spell out the easier parts of the bible and be competent servants and drummer boys, but not enough to give them ideas above their station.

Toughing up

As for community sentences, Clarke wants them to be made 'tougher' with other conditions attached to them, like curfews and tagging. Just like we have already, maybe?

Curfews for adults and youths come under section 204 of the Criminal Justice Act 2003 and section 215 provides tagging for the under 25s.

Is recidivism really to be solved by extending tags to adults? And what should the community service actually consist of? Traditionally, all discussions about community service, or unpaid work requirement as it is officially known, centre around 'painting old ladies' houses', conjuring up images of battalions of house proud old dames in need of refurbishment (how does one get to be one, and how old do you have to be to get your sitting room done up for Christmas? Only a thought).

To make that work tougher, perhaps road making or stone breaking is required? Clarke, sensibly, did not respond to Paxman when he asked if chain gangs were a likely prospect. But of course the type of community and charity work presently organised by the probation service '“ and 'painting old ladies' houses' in truth is not it '“ will be snaffled up by the Department of Work and Pensions when the benefit changes come in.

If it is the unemployed, otherwise known as 'the workshy' who will be doing the Big Society work, what will crims be left to do? Like the poor little illegitimates of Coram's Fields, they must surely be distinguished in some way from the deserving or even the undeserving poor? I have a solution '“ different coloured hi-viz jackets! Red for anyone on community service, amber for job seekers earning their right to benefits and green for those rare beings still paid for what they do.