I made a trip to the New York Comic Convention this weekend (to answer your questions: yes, I am a terrific geek, yes, I’m comfortable with that, and yes, I do believe my weekend was better than yours). On my way back, while listening to “This American Life” on the car radio, a question I found fascinating was raised: What exactly is the point of our modern system of incarceration?
Prisons have been a part of human history almost since the invention of written law. It’s become second nature to us to associate the concept of crime with jail sentences and penitentiaries. But the idea of what these prisons are meant to accomplish is vague, and can mean different things to different people. Some believe that a prison is simply to keep the undesirable and dangerous elements of society away from the safer denizens of the world. Others see it as a rehabilitation mechanism.
Many of you can guess where I fall on that spectrum, but I’ll spell it out for you. The purpose of a prison should be, first and foremost, rehabilitation and, for want of a better term, reeducation of its inmates. By reeducation, I refer to the breakdown of the gang mindset, the destruction of violence as a positive force and the introduction of compassion into formerly vicious lifestyles.
There are difficulties with this concept, and I’m willing to be the first to admit them. What if Jack the Ripper were back in town? (I have been assured by friends that, in one way or another, he does stalk the streets to this day.) Who can change a man’s irreparable madness? What form of psychotherapy can make a murderer repent his old life and begin anew?
I believe that there are hopeless cases. I won’t pretend that every criminal can renounce his or her ways. But I can’t give up on the belief that they all deserve a chance to change. There are murderers who have experienced brushes with enlightenment from being in a production of “Hamlet” and those who have found refuge in religion. My friend Nick, a freshman, tells of a juvenile offender from his hometown who found Jesus in stir, and went from a thief and drug dealer to a model citizen in a short period of time.
Murderers have been paroled and developed close relationships with the families of their victims. Drug dealers have spoken out against the drug culture and begun work at halfway houses across the world. Though some are incorrigible, all deserve our sympathy and support.
To those who believe the world’s prisoners deserve to rot, who think that they are something less than human, who give their plight not a moment’s thought, mull over this statement from Danny, a murderer featured on “This American Life”: “I’m not the criminal I used to be. I know I won’t commit any more crimes if I’m out there. But … I took a man’s life. Do I deserve to be out there? I cannot say.”
I believe people can change. I believe in the power of the human heart to grow and heal. And in a system that only produces recidivism, increasing the crime rate and the misery we seek to combat, I believe that we can love our brothers and sisters, regardless of who they have been before. Let’s help them reinvent themselves. I’d be ashamed of anything less.