My Cell At Shepton

The following pictures were taken by my mobile whilst at Shepton Mallet. This is where the blog was conceived, written and defended without pause. Those who have followed the blog from the beginning will recall that Shepton was the site of many bruising battles on the long journey to release.

I don't miss it!

Shepton and Erlestoke

Although both Shepton and Erlestoke both hold prisoners that have a Category C rating - i.e. those who can't be bothered escaping - the populations are very different.  Management views them as being a nearly separate species.

Shepton is an all Lifer nick.  Lifers tend to be older, with shorter criminal histories and  - a crucial factor - having a vested interest in the prison community.  After all, if you have to live in a place for several years then you tend to pay more attention to the nature of the conditions and regime.  There is a broad outlook that favours a quiet life.

Erlestoke has a varied population, with a wide range in sentences and ages.  Short termers predominate, and those who are merely passing through an institution have little interest in its condition or regime.  Why should they care if they will be on the street in a few months?

Management, face with such a problem, can choose between two broad strategies.  They can either make particular efforts at community building, or they can opt for even tighter control measures.

The latter always carries the risk of undermining the very "good order" that it hopes to engender.  Only very ignorant managers don't appreciate this risk.

So Erlestoke has chosen that option.  Never even bothering to attempt to build a functioning community, management choose to fall back on the lazy and risky option of control.

A Tale of Two C Cats

On the face of it, Shepton and Erlestoke are the same - both are category C training prisons, both lying about how much attention they pay to our welfare and rehabilitation.

Yet here I sit in my cell on a sunny Saturday, bored.  At Shepton I'd be able to take myself off to the yard or  pay a social visit to other wings.  Here, though, such freedoms are controlled far more pettily.

What factors determine the differences between two seemingly similar prisons? Both rest on the bedrock that is the national core regime. Both labour under national profiles and performance targets.  And yet both prisons seem to have a completely different ethos and culture, which often expresses itself in ways that our keepers fail to appreciate.

Shepton, for all it varied problems, is actually ranked as the second best performing prison in the country.  Erlestoke is so far down the performance table that only miners have seen that depth.  Managerially merging these prisons with Erlestoke in charge may seem a tad stupid then.  But that's what they are doing.

Staff Edukashun

We are subjected to a regime of roll-checks. As the fundamental purpose of prison is to keep us little beggars behind the walls, counting us now and then is a fundamental part of the job.

So each morning, when people have moved to work, each part of the prison is locked up. We're banged in our cells if on the wings, and each department around the prison phones in their complement of prisoners. The total must match that written on the board in the Centre office. How hard can that be?

There are less than 190 prisoners here. This morning it took staff 1 hours and 25 minutes to get the roll correct. If this carries on the Governor should change his name to C. Montgomery Burns and all the screws could wear the name-tag "Homer"!

A Governor in a Panic

The effect of The Times article has been interesting, especially coupled with a governor's fear for her position.

The No.1 Governor has buggered off for a week, leaving us in the care of the Deputy, Cruella de Ville. Cruella discovered that a certain man had booked to visit me - and took exception. An emissary was sent to deliver the news that I wouldn't be allowed to see him as he 'may be connected to the media’. I explained that he'd been visiting me for several months, was a mainstream political activist and a businessman. Nothing to do with the media.

I pointed out that this turn of events was highly illegal. Prisons can't go around banning people "just in case" they are journalists, they have to know so before they act. And I threatened to inflict the full weight of legal and media embarrassment upon them if they continued this game.

Nothing more was heard that day. Next day, another emissary arrived from Cruella, one of the Matalan Army of Governors in Training (GiTs). As he entered, I asked if the piece of paper he was waving was either a compensation cheque or a big fat apology? Alas, neither. It was a Disclaimer they insisted I sign, saying that nothing discussed on the visit would end up in the media. Again, very, very illegal and possibly unprecedented in British prison history.

I flatly refused. I will sign a disclaimer, as per the rules, if the visitor is a journalist visiting in a personal capacity, but never otherwise. This may seem like a minor admin matter, but never underestimate the deviousness and maliciousness of the prison service. If one signs these disclaimers and then stuff ends up in the media, one sanction is to refuse to allow that visitor into the prison in future.

Imagine the scenario. If I was having a hard time of it - e.g. a governor had lost the plot and was acting illegally - and told a visitor to pass the word on, and it ended up on the blog. As the visitor had signed the disclaimer, they would be perpetually banned from visiting ever again. As the blog Editor is my most frequent visitor, this would be a clever way to sever our contact, would it not?

This type of activity by prison managers is repulsive, just the sort of llegitimate manoeuvring I've been challenging all my life. It still makes me as angry today as it ever did, and it is just as repugnant.

My reading of the situation is this. Having given Damian Whitworth of the Times permission to visit, this governor then turned him away at the gate. Damian had enough material from letters and speaking to others to write his article anyway, as he did. Along the way, he wrote that it is easier to visit a man on Death Row in Texas than it is to visit little me in a low security nick in the sticks.

Was that embarrassing to someone in the prison service? Hopefully. And now, with Cruella being in sole charge this week, I think she is extremely paranoid that a journo may sneak in to see me under her nose. In a fit of mindless panic, she then acts way outside of the rulebook and tries to ban anyone who visits me from speaking to the media.

Either way, I'm actually happy that this has happened. It's a fight the prison will inevitably lose, given it's blatant illegality. And it affords me the opportunity to reveal to you the shenanigans that happen behind these walls. It reinforces my belief that prisoners blogging, shedding light into this gloomy corner, are vital.

The Pond

The pond has become an object of obsession for a handful of my peers. Not in their appreciation, but in their perpetual fussing around it. Some people are straightening the flowers, polishing the stones, if it can be faffed around with, they will do it.

It is a very nice pond. It has turned a Colditz style yard into a place where loitering can even be present. For the first time in a decade, I even have a suntan.

Nice as it is, though, it will forever remain a pond. Just a pond. Watching these guys fart about with it all day, every day, makes me worry about their sense of perspective.