Out of Sight, Out of Mind

It’s no secret that, as a rule, I'd never encourage anyone to fork out good money to read the pearls of wisdom that passes for any Prison Governor’s thoughts. I find myself astonished, then, to read this analysis of the prison system by recently "retired" Governor John Podmore and find myself nodding in agreement with almost every page.

Podmore was a real governor, not one of the Matalan Army who plague our lives. Amongst others, he was the No 1 at both Belmarsh and Brixton. He was a Very Senior Governor. And such men rarely talk in public, let alone write a critique of the system that even I'd be pleased with. This book is the rarest of beasts - an excellent read written by a man who knows the inside of prison management and who pulls no punches. I can't recall any previous books from this genre.

Prisoners may not be surprised to learn that Governors live in a state of near paralysis, forever dancing to avoid a bollocking from Headquarters. This mindset encourages stagnation, a fear of change, an avoidance of radical thought - in sum, prison governors are stuck in a bureaucracy which attempts to squeeze out any sense of positive purpose. This alone could explain why prisons are colossally expensive failures. Podmore's career is, in a sense, shaped by a battle against such constraints.

Not that this book hangs in the air, suspended in a miasma of management waffle. Podmore gets down and dirty on the details, highlighting the failures and the sheer waste of many policies that have come to govern prisoners' lives. One such is the CARATs programme. That has cost £150 million but no one has ever bothered to check whether it does any damn good. Equally, the near impossibility of importing genuine work and pay into prisons is a point which Podmore has run aground on several times in his career.

There are very few areas of prisons which Podmore doesn't discuss, even if tangentially. And uniquely he examines aspects of the system which we rarely consider. From High Security through to Open, from Offending Behaviour Programmes to the work of charitable foundations, Podmore neatly dissects the prison enterprise. And all too often he discovers the waste of time, money, talent and sheer potential to create something positive and meaningful. Unsurprisingly, his view of the politicians who interfere with prisons for short term headlines is a very dim one.

The book is enlivened by the swipes Podmore takes at his bugbears, one of which is the plague of ex-prison staff who claim to have been a "governor". I know, and you know, that there are governors and then there are Governors. But to the outside world, these junior upstarts, middle managers, wave their tatty M&S pinstripes around as if to claim that they were a Big Deal whilst in the job. We know better and, hopefully, this book will skewer these minor bureaucrats in the public eye.

The overriding sense left by this book is that prisons are frustrating. Not just for prisoners but for those Governors who have the ability (or curse) to see beyond what is and envisage something more. In searching for an explanation as to why prisons remain so crap, this book has helped me to understand the pressures and constraints on such Governors. And why so few exist at all.

Towards the end of his (foreshortened) career, Podmore resided in the dim corridors at HQ, attempting to come to grips with pervasive staff corruption, a much neglected area. Not neglected through oversight; but neglected through deliberate policy. The Suits just don't want to know about staff corruption and Podmore found himself ousted from his anti-corruption role. Without a prison to run, he opted to take early retirement. Thankfully for us, he then chose to write instead of adjourning to the golf course. For anyone who wants some insight into the minds of those who control our lives, this book will remain the standard for a very long time.

Podmore is a Governor worth listening to. And just writing that makes me feel very, very weird.

John Podmore, "Out of Sight, Out of Mind", Biteback Books

Petty Orders

We have a deputy governor here who has an unfortunate habit. Every time the No.l governor takes a holiday, the deputy starts issuing petty orders, if necessary overturning the orders of her absent boss. One of her senior colleagues once referred to her as Cruella DeVille. You get the idea.

This activity has three effects. It pointlessly raises the general temperature of the prison by pissing off both cons and screws; On his return, the No.l then has to deal with a line of disgruntled people; and our general contempt for management is reinforced.

This time - so far - the deputy seems to have restricted herself to pissing over only two previous orders from her boss. We expect further missives from the Fuhrerbunker but for now she has settled for ruining the World Cup and my PhD activities.

The No.l, in a fit of generous nationalism, put out the order that we could take time off work to watch the World Cup. Of course, we had to get the okay from our work supervisors and we would get our pay docked for that time off. Fairy nuff.

Now his deputy has overturned that order. Of course, I'm suggesting to everyone that they report as being ill but I bet most will shuffle of to the workshop, cursing the deputy governor. What a petty order this is, especially as prison work is both unessential and actually costs the taxpayers money. Add the fact that most of us are post-tariff (i.e., not here for punishment) then this reeks of panic - lest the media get hold of it. I haven't had any training in management theory but I suspect that panic-driven-management is probably not highly rated amongst the cognoscenti.

Oh, diddums...

People knock on my door to ask for some piece of information, or to ask that I help with some of the blizzard of paperwork that wallpapers a Life sentence.

One of these is the official complaints process. There are three forms, including appeals processes, and wording complaints can be an art. After all, the recipient will wriggle out of responsibility given any opportunity (or none). And I enjoy helping people fight their corner.

In recent days, two people I have written complaints for have been badgered by three different Governors. Their universal whine from these managers is that I word the forms with some sarcasm or level of assertion.

Well, Doh! That's why people come to me in the first place, because by the time they are reaching for an official complaint form, they have already been given a long run-around by staff.

And so they want to make their complaints in a manner which reflects their frustration and anger with the failings of staff. Nothing abusive, you understand, but worded in such a way as to leave no doubt as to which idiocy needs to be remedied. Just as I write here, in fact. This is a tone staff don't like!

I think that these Governors suffer from an old prison disease, one that afflicts all staff. They just cannot accept that staff may be wrong or that a policy is idiotic. In their Universe, such things are just not possible.

And so a complaint from a prisoner is automatically viewed as being illegitimate. A complaint written without a suitable level of obsequiousness is to present them with an outrage.

But here's an idea. Governors, stop crying over the fact that some cons are pissed off. Instead, take the time to ask yourself if maybe, just maybe, the con may be right.