HL Deb 31 July 1956 vol 199 cc424-34

2.47 p.m.

LORD MOYNIHAN rose to call attention to the present position of Her Majesty's Prisons, with particular reference to the question of after-care; and to move for Papers. The noble Lord said: My Lords, I make no apology this afternoon for raising this question again. It is just over a year since we debated it in your Lordships' House and, apart from a passing reference, it is very much longer since it has been considered in another place. I feel that it is of vast importance always to keep the problem well in front of us. It is a problem which is really too big for one debate. It could well be divided between prisons, after-care and Borstal, all of which aspects might well have a debate on their own. In the time at my disposal this afternoon I want to deal mainly with prisons.

I do not think we can possibly congratulate ourselves while the numbers in prison remain so high. Until we can make that position very much better it should be a source of worry to all of us. At the beginning of the debate this afternoon I want to look at what our aims should be, so far as prisons are concerned, and to ask the noble Lord who is to reply a pertinent question: are we quite satisfied with the position as it now stands, with little or no improvement inside the prisons; with the after-care given, and with the position of prisoners who, when they leave prison, are a race apart and never really accepted by the public as one of themselves? Are we going to try to improve the position inside prisons, and, when people come out, accept them without any argument as equals of ourselves? I feel that, while this is our main aim, quite frankly, it is not being achieved at the present time.

The real punishment for anyone who is sent to prison (I am leaving out of consideration at the moment the question of capital punishment) lies in taking away his or her liberty. The extent to which that is done, of course, varies with the seriousness of the crime. But that in itself is sufficient punishment. Few people, however, realise how very tragic it is. We all know that in times of war we have a restraint on our own freedoms, but that is nothing compared with the total taking away of freedom when an individual is sent to prison. I consider that that is quite sufficient punishment for anyone who has committed a crime. This taking away of freedom does, of course, defend the public from dangerous criminals; but in itself it should be sufficient, and the whole time a man or woman is in prison should be devoted to improving that man's or woman's outlook.

In fact, putting it briefly, preparation for after-care should start on the first day of the prison sentence. It should start through the staffs themselves. It should start through the members of the medical profession in the prisons, who should give far more care to hygiene in these prisons. And it should start through the prison chaplains, who, I am afraid, at the moment, are much too closely allied to the prison administration, rather than being free and on their own. This is, I recognise, an ideal that it is difficult at the moment to accomplish, because of the very large numbers we have in prison (at the present time, there are about twice as many men and women in prison as there were in 1939), but we must not give up the attempt. If the present prison system is right, why is it that in times of prosperity, of full employment and of high wages, we have these vast numbers in prison? For we have always been led to believe that the main reasons for crime are unemployment, lack of opportunity and bad wages.

War, of course, is one of the excuses we always hear put forward—particularly the last war during which so many of us were trained to kill. The last war also broke up, through the bombing of this country, many homes, and scattered people throughout the land. Children, in many instances, were uncared for or at least were dispersed without any chance of real education. In times of war, too, moral standards tend to be very much lower, and I must admit that in this respect I cannot see much improvement since the end of the last war. But these effects should now be wearing off, because it is ten years or more since the end of the war. Yet look at our people in prisons, in Borstals, and in detention centres. One sees people who have gone wrong once and who, through this initiation, have become recidivists and spend quite a lot of their life committing crimes. The number of these is still very staggering.

One of the chief causes of crime I suppose, is lack of education. Look at the present "Edwardians"! I know that only a certain small percentage of these boys will finally end up in Borstals, but they show very little intelligence and even less desire to improve themselves in any way. A great deal of the trouble, of course, has its root in broken-up homes, and lack of parental control. We must recognise that a great deal of the blame attaches to the parents. But education is, of course, a problem in itself, and we cannot possibly tackle that this afternoon. The problem really is one of prevention as well as cure. If one can prevent a person committing a crime at all by prior education, or if one can prevent him from committing a second crime by after-care, then the numbers in the prisons will go down immediately. If it is possible, during the prison sentence, to cure, by means of education in prison, again, of course, the number of inmates will decrease rapidly. This attempt may be being made to a certain extent, but at the moment I believe it is only in a very limited way.

I think we shall all agree that the easy way out of this problem is to support a rebuilding programme for the whole of our prisons, although we know that that is impossible at the moment. Far more practicable is the method of lessening the number of people going to prison by proper reformatory methods. I do not for one moment wish to minimise the work that is now being done, particularly by those in the prisons themselves and, to a certain extent, also, by the aftercare associations. Wherever I have been —and I have toured the country a great deal during the last few months —I have received the greatest help everywhere. I have criticised what has been happening and I have tried to be constructive. Wherever I have been I have met with nothing but understanding and support. I am certain that the people concerned are willing to have this criticism and to do their best to make things better.

We have heard on a considerable number of occasions recently that all is not well inside our prisons. Many books have been written in the last eighteen months about prisons. I hope that they are being carefully read, because some of the things in them are very disquieting. There have also been a considerable number of articles, particularly in the Sunday Press, which have been extremely misleading and have tended to give the public an entirely wrong impression of what actually happens inside prisons. It is a great pity that the Press news of crimes is always concerned with people for whom few, if any, of us would have the slightest sympathy. Those crimes which would perhaps call for a little insight, understanding and sympathy are never mentioned, because, of course, they are not "news."

There is one very serious problem which was mentioned in the late Norman Hignett's book on prisons, and that is the question of unofficial corporal punishment. It is not the first time, by a long way, that that matter has been raised, and though I am convinced that there is no definite knowledge of this happening at the top, I am not at all certain that lower down the scale these things do not happen—for instance when people are first held on remand, or first taken into a prison or into a police station. They are quite impossible to prove. Nevertheless, I am not satisfied that all is done to make quite certain they never can happen. I still think we have one of the finest police forces in the world. Perhaps the individual police officer to-day is not quite so tolerant as he used to be, but he now has to face infinitely greater difficulties than he has ever had before.

In this materialistic age, it may be that we are not paying our police enough. Certainly, if we are going to reduce crime, consideration must be given to keeping the very highest standard in the police force and preventing the slightest suggestion that things are going wrong in that way. I do not think that we can say definitely that they do not go wrong in that way. In Wildeblood's book, he states something which again has been said on many occasions—namely, that promotion in the police force is based mainly on the number of convictions that are secured. If there is any truth at all in this statement, it should make us reconsider the whole problem. I am not attempting to criticise the police in any way this afternoon: rather am I trying to say that if they are going to be given an important and necessary job, then they should be paid properly for it, for if, as Gilbert said in his time: A policeman's lot is not a happy one", how much more true is that to-day!

Now just a word or two about local prisons, which are the Cinderella of the prison service. This particularly affects short-term men. It is almost impossible to reform or educate the short-sentence man as he has only a few weeks or a few months in prison, but a certain thing happens in these prisons which I do not think should happen. In many cases, offenders start their time in local prisons before going on to Borstal or detention centres. In theory, they are kept separate; but in practice that is not true, and there is nothing worse than that atmosphere. There is nothing worse for a young boy than to go through the local prison administration.

We cannot improve the physical or moral standards of our prisons unless we are going to teach prisoners the habit of cleanliness. That is the first and foremost problem. Modernised sanitation in prisons may be expensive but it will be no luxury. I am not suggesting that we should turn every cell into a lavatory, because that is what would happen if they were put at the end of every cell. But I suggest that we should have running water in prison—cold water is quite sufficient—and we should have a large number of lavatories in proportion to the number of cells. Having gone round many prisons, though naturally I have not gone round at the time these things are obviously at their worst—in the early morning—it seems to me that it is not the system that is wrong; it is that there is not enough sanitation and, though certain prisoners obviously misuse it on purpose, I would say that the prisons have the right system but not enough facilities to allow prisoners to do what they should do in normal nature.

For example, they are locked up long before the prison staff go out, about a quarter to nine, and until six o'clock next morning prisoners cannot get out of their cells. If we could get bigger staffs at night to deal with that situation so that people could go out during the night rather than that there should be put-in sanitation, then I think we should have a better answer. But, in my opinion, sanitation all round is not tackled in the right way. Take Wakefield Camp, for example. A great deal has been said about Wakefield Camp. It was our first open prison and has been going on now for over twenty years. Yet there are no water-flush latrines in that camp. The prisoners themselves have to clear and clean the latrines, and I do not think that is right, if we are trying to educate people up to new standards.

I come for a few moments to the question of first offenders. They are the people who matter more than anyone. Twenty-five per cent. of all those who go into prison go in as first offenders. I would ask the Government whether we cannot be more lenient with these people. I realise that probably we do more for them in this country than is done anywhere else in the world, but I still think there is a great deal that can be done. I should like to make it the rule rather than the exception—although, of course, I know that there must be exceptions—that a man who commits a first crime does not go to prison. We have a rule in this country: one dog, one bite; because we believe that a dog is a domestic animal and is not at heart ferocious. Surely we can adopt the same idea with regard to the human race. If a man commits a second offence, then count the first against him and deal with him much more severely, but let us give him a chance on his first offence. Many young men, through one slip, go to Borstal or a detention centre and, through meeting with prisoners there, start a life of crime, when after-care becomes infinitely more difficult and possibly never successful at all. But there is one kind of crime that I think cannot in any circumstances be countenanced—that is, crimes of violence, and I would be much harder even on the first offender in such cases. I am afraid that I would go farther than most people and for this type of crime I would bring back corporal punishment.

I hope that in the not too distant future we shall be able to debate the question of homosexuality. The Royal Commission seem to be sitting a very long time. The problem is growing and needs very important decisions. All I want to say this afternoon is that I am perfectly certain in my own mind that for most of these cases prison, particularly a closed prison, is not the answer. Remand cases which go into the ordinary local prisons present difficult problems. Again, in theory, these people are separated, but in practice that is not the case, and so there is trafficking in tobacco, and temptations and unrests are brought about that would not be there otherwise. Of course, the easy answer is: new prisons for remand cases. What I would ask this afternoon is: is that the final aim of Her Majesty's Government? Because if we can get new prisons for remand prisoners, then it is going to give an infinitely better chance for those in the ordinary prisons to get proper training.

I do not want to leave the subject of prisons without reference to the latest form of prison—the detention centre. Here, for ten weeks, there is a concentrated course in two types of centre, one for young boys between fourteen and seventeen and another for those between seventeen and twenty-one. There is no doubt that these boys are hand-picked, hut, even then, there are many who do not look very promising material. Nevertheless, the early results—these centres have been going now for two years—are exceptionally promising. From 80 to 85 per cent. do not go back again. There are in the senior school many who go straight into the Army and I know that we do not hear what happens to them from that time. The great point is that these centres encourage smartness, discipline and, above all, cleanliness. Go round, as I did, the senior school and you will see a spotless place: kitchens, dormitories, dining hall, and particularly, again, the lavatories. Surely, that is a lesson that should be learned wherever one goes. I should like to see that type of place throughout the country—and I believe there is some possibility of it—for it is of the right size, where each individual can be watched and helped. How on earth can you tackle a place like, say, Wandsworth with 1,300 people in it? You cannot possibly give them individual attention.

Now to look at after-care, first, from the day the man goes into prison—if you like, let us call it preparation for aftercare. This is preparation through education. It is preparation to help a man to get ready to live a useful life after his term in prison is over. He is much more likely to become a decent citizen if he is given this education while he is inside prison, and the ordinary public are much more likely to accept him as an ordinary individual if they know he has had the opportunity of this training. This education consists of making people clean, useful and strong-minded. How can people hope to improve if they live three in a cell only big enough for one; where the sanitation is antiquarian, and when their clothes are quite unfit? How can they really improve when their chief job still is sewing mailbags, and when the maximum amount that they can get for the best job they can do in prison is 4s, a week? How can they get better unless educational facilities are not just there, but encouraged?

In local prisons, the lack of all these things is hindering people from getting down to proper reform. I should like to ask, once and for all, for the abolition of the sewing of mailbags in prisons. It does not say a great deal for the authorities that they can think of nothing else simple enough for people to do who perhaps have not a very high intelligence than to sew mailbags all the time. What about the work of a blacksmith? What about saddlery? They are not difficult jobs to train people in, but they are jobs for which you cannot get trainees in these days, and jobs which, even in the mechanical age in which we live, are still badly wanted. What happens to all the people who do gardening in prisons? One of the things one notices if one goes round the prisons is the exceptionally good gardens which they all have. Why cannot these people be trained so that they can go out and do gardening jobs afterwards?—because one cannot get a gardener these days, when there are fewer gardeners than almost anything else. There is something which is not particularly difficult, and which I feel might be encouraged greatly.

Then, can we persuade the trade unions to take an active interest in the prisoners, so that they can do a job in the prison and continue with it when they go out? Can we encourage them to say that the men should have decent pay in prison, so that they can collect a certain amount of money and will not go out with just 10s. out of charity to manage on until they get a job. Recently I went to Maidstone, and there they have an absolutely first-class printing shop. I asked: "How many of these boys and men go out afterwards and do printing?" The answer was: "Very few, if any. The trade unions will not allow them." I am not certain that the right approach has been made to the trade unions. I would ask the noble Lord who is to reply: have there been definite discussions at high levels with the trade unions? Have there been talks to show what help they could be? If the trade unions have been talked to, and have refused, there is no excuse at all. There is no employment problem in that industry in any sense of the word. The average prison population is 20,000, and out of those only a percentage would tackle a union job afterwards, in any case. The population of the trade-unions is some 8 million. There is no question of any problem there of any kind. If they have been consulted and have refused, it is their fault. But if they have not, can this not be done immediately? It could change the whole picture if the unions came in and got down to helping.

I know that there are some people in prisons who are untrainable, or nearly so. But even they have a conscience, if you can find it. Sometimes it is difficult to find it, but if they are given the chance you will find that they will react to the right treatment and the right spirit. One of the things to which they will react is if they know that while they are in prison their families are being properly looked after. In London there is a fund called the Sheriff's Fund, which looks after the families of prisoners in London prisons and does magnificent work with very small funds. That, I think, should be encouraged throughout the country. Then there is the excellent modern idea of home leave, when the prisoner goes away for two or three days some weeks before he is due for release. But those things, good in themselves, do not tackle the main problem of what can be done for these people during their sentence so that they can be helped afterwards. At the present time it is tackled in only a small number of cases.

Let us look at after-care in its true sense for a moment—and I refer now to the after-care when the man has left prison. There are two types: there is the State after-care, and voluntary after-care. The voluntary after-care is becoming more and more active. It is the weakest point of statutory after-care that this voluntary help should be needed. I think the real reason is that this statutory aftercare lacks the human element that you must have in dealing with this type of person. There is nothing like enough liaison between the after-care people and the prisoner in his early days in prison. If only there were, they would find that their after-care would be much more simplified. Until then the prisoners have to rely on this voluntary after-care, which is doing a magnificent job, but after all, this should not be necessary.

Now I would just sum up briefly. I know that I have been critical, but I sincerely hope that I have to a certain degree been constructive. I would suggest a plan which would include the chief points that I have raised. First of all, let us reduce the numbers in prison by keeping out those people who never should go there: many first offenders—for instance, conscientious objectors; petty offenders, who go there for two or three weeks or a month or two, which is too short a time to have any bearing on their future life; the very old (what is the good of sending them into an ordinary prison?) and many homosexuals. Then, can we segregate certain people who, if we are going to reform men in prison, are not going to help?—I refer to the mentally abnormal, and what I call the explosive prisoners. I believe that 5 per cent. of all prisoners can be put into those categories.

If some of these things were done, it would help to ease the overcrowding and would give every chance of getting down to proper training. We could then have constructive work and properly paid work; and if we could get the agreement of the Trades Union Congress meetings could be arranged with local employers, the trade unions and the prison authorities, so that the prisoners could start while in prison doing a job which they could take up afterwards. With an early contact in prison, your real after-care could be ready with help when the people came out, with lodgings and everything that is necessary to see that the ex-prisoners could get on their way by the right road. There would then be no break. There is at present a terrible break when a man comes out of prison, perhaps on a Friday, with not enough money and with no chance of getting a job until the next Monday. He may fall into temptation and quite often find himself back in prison on the next Monday instead of looking for a job. Quite a lot of what I have suggested can be done with very little extra expense and little change in the whole system.

For a long-term policy, may I suggest that we make a limit of 400 on the number of prisoners in any one prison? I know that that is a long-term hope, and I know it is very expensive, but let us realise that it is always a time of crisis in this country and there is never enough money to do everything. But let us try and start with that idea, so that in due course we may reach our ideal. There is a great deal to be done. Much can be tackled now without tremendous expense and with little reorganisation. It is, of course, a matter for the Home Office, and I ask them this afternoon if they will not only consider these things but give them high priority. I beg to move for Papers.