Mark Honigsbaum Wednesday March 30 2005 The Guardian.
Part Two Hundred and Four
A crick in her neck woke Nikki up ridiculously early in their bedroom, which looked weird. It must have secretly mutated in the night. It had all their possessions strewn around the room but the walls were painted an impersonal white and the room had shrunk and she could only see a couple of her books. At least she could see that the sleeping shape that was under the quilt was Helen, or at least that straight lock of hair looked like hers. What in hell was wrong? Then she remembered. She was in a hotel where she had agreed in a fit of madness to spout on at a hall full of perfect strangers. Her head hit the pillow. Oh brilliant. She glanced at the time and it was ridiculously early. She needed to get some more shuteye as she had a long day ahead.
"Nikki, Nikki, it's time for breakfast." That urgent Scottish brogue broke in on her dreams.
"Whatsamatter?" Nikki mumbled, half in a dream. "You get the breakfast today and I'll do it tomorrow."
"I mean the hotel breakfast. Come on, we'll be late."
Nikki groaned. She had not had to get up according to anyone's routine for nearly four years since someone else held the keys to her room. In that case, what in hell had Helen been doing, lying in bed next to her? It was then that the penny not so much dropped but meandered its erratic fluttering path down to earth. She rubbed her eyes and stuck a reluctant leg out from the side of her bed. Why in hell was Helen such an early morning bird?
Finally, she tottered her way downstairs, desperate for a cup of strong black coffee amongst the 'continental breakfast' on offer. She was infinitely grateful for waiter service as she felt far too uncoordinated to select the toast, jam, and butter, decide what cereal to choose from and serve herself coffee. She wasn't in a talking mood and fortunately, her sole participation was to smile periodically at passing strangers in that very British way. Before Helen whisked her away to the lounge, she managed to scrounge a second cup of coffee. She felt she was going to need it.
Once she could collapse into an easy chair, she fished out the crumpled conference prospectus and wearily willed her eyes to focus on it. The bottom part of the form swam into view.
"From the Bench to the Bars - A Dual Approach"
……………
Karen Betts, The Governor, HMP Larkhall.
His Honour Judge John Deed QC, High Court Judge.
Nikki Wade, Wing Governor and former inmate, HMP Larkhall.
Course structure:
Plenary sessions with keynote speakers, questions and debate; breakout sessions to discuss and identify objectives as targets for change, agree actions and create networks for further communications and support.
Who should attend?
Prison and probation practitioners, sentencers, Youth Offending Teams, lawyers, voluntary sector organisations, academics and anyone working in the criminal justice system and concerned about reform.
Email network
Even if you cannot attend the event, fill in your contact details and send the form back to the Howard League for Penal Reform and we will include you in an email network for further actions and exchange of ideas.
Accreditation:
The conference is accredited for the purposes of the Law Society and the Bar Council CPD.
Registration and refreshments:
Registration with tea/coffee at 10am. All participants will receive a comprehensive conference pack, guide for the conference and a valuable reference resource. Buffet lunch will be provided."
"Jesus, that's me, isn't it?" "That sure is," Beamed Helen with pride. "Guess I've got time to get into the swing of things before I have to spout." "Not necessarily," Helen contradicted her to her total horror. "We must register and check out the timetable. That will tell you when you're on. Come on."
Meekly, Nikki let herself be led by Helen who followed the notices to a side area in the foyer where, thanks for Helen's 'early bird' syndrome, they were at the front of the queue and they shuffled their way to pick up clip on IDs, conference packs and printed materials and, most vital of all, the timetable.
"Your slot is second thing tomorrow morning. You're before Karen. That's good news. That will give everyone time to wake up from their hangovers and that they'll be listening properly. You'll also have time to see everyone else first and maybe pick up one or two things to refer to. The judge is on today."
"He'll be dead confident," Nikki muttered mournfully. She wasn't sure that focused attention to her words of wisdom was an unmixed blessing especially as an impeccably dressed, utterly composed John came into view. "He's used to this sort of thing. He'll have them eating out of his hands."
"Hi, judge," Helen broke off, her carrying voice grabbing his attention. "Can you help settle a few of Nikki's pre conference nerves? She's worried about her speech."
"You may have a lot of advice given to you but my tip is never to try and be like anyone else but to ultimately be yourself," John urged in his most soothing tones. He had seen what was going on and had already turned to approach them. His heart was touched by this woman's very evident nerves."Do it in the way that comes natural to you. By all means, pick up any quotes from any speakers that go before you go on but don't let them ever take over your style, least of all mine."
Nikki nodded gratefully. The words made sense to her. A sneaking feeling at the back of her mind was that she had to be like someone else. She was still unsure how she was going to set about her speech but this was a start.
"One very powerful reason for me coming to this conference was for me to sit down in the audience and hear what you have to say," John said with great solemnity and conviction. That confused Nikki even more as she struggled to make that real in her mind.
"And me as well, John, I trust?" broke in Karen's amused tones as she walked in alongside Grayling.
"Neil's the reason why I came here in the first place," Nikki added darkly. "He's got to be the most persuasive man I've ever come across in my life.
"He must have been taking a few lessons from John. You have got to hear how he got George to play Eve in 'the Creation'," Came Karen's friendly reply in a barbed fashion while John pretended to studiously recheck the position of his tie for perfection.
"Ladies, ladies. You ought to suspend judgment till the conference has finished. I freely admit to the very slight flanker in persuading you both to attend this conference but I am positive that you'll thank me afterwards. You will both get so much out of this conference. I acted for all for the best reasons."
"I quite agree, Neil. I have the utmost faith in both of you. You should not be too hasty. Now if you excuse me, I must give my speech a last minute polish as I rather fancy that the conference will be starting shortly."
"Hmmm. Grayling's girls, we aren't. You might think they've cooked this one up between the two of them. However, like John says, we're due to start shortly. Seeing that this place is bound to be non-smoking, why don't you join me in a quick drag outside? It's going to be a long long time before we get another chance."
As the autumn wind whipped past them as they stood outside the door, all the worldly philosophizing from John and Neil, though well meant, was as nothing compared to the nicotine fix. The fact that they might have looked like two naughty schoolgirls smoking behind the bike sheds mattered far less than their peace of mind. When they had stubbed their cigarettes out, they stared through Grayling's mild disapproval, grabbed their papers and headed for the swing doors. Immediately, Nikki was overwhelmed by the sight of a huge room, the size of a function suite, set out with two blocks of rows of chairs and a walkway down the middle. On a raised area were podiums, left and right with a microphone each and a table in the middle where the chairman sat. This was on a vaster scale than her old club and much more luxurious than the prison she worked in. This was another world altogether.
"Let's find a seat and get settled down." A Scottish voice whispered in her ear.
Nikki became conscious that she had stood still and was holding up the crowd of people who were funneling into the hall from behind her. Automatically, Karen, Grayling and John had caught up with her and they led an uncertain way to row four on the extreme left hand side where they occupied part of the block. There was an expectant air and eventually, the chairman tested the microphone briefly and opened the meeting.
"……Just a few domestics. According to the fire instructions, a continuous ringing sound will require the evacuation of the building by the doors at the back and that we should all assemble in the car park to the right of the building as you go out, fifty yards down the road and that you take all your personal belongings with you……."
Karen shuddered. That flat bland description off a standardized instruction bore no resemblance to the panic and confusion, the smell of smoke and the feeling of desperation of missing persons, of waiting for the fire brigade. She had never been the same that way since that experience over three years ago. To Grayling, that day included a hole in his experience where he was oblivious to everything.
The conference finally got into gear where a journalist from the 'Guardian' opened the proceedings and gripped attention straightaway.
"Chair, conference, it's fallen to me to draw the short straw to open the proceedings. Whether that is a positive advantage or a cross to bear, you and I will shortly find out. I must start off, as a member of the press in pointing out my awareness of the insidious process of narrowing the public consciousness in the name of law and order and the consequent attack on the liberal culture I have grown up in as a young man. I confess with some embarrassment and shame the way that some of my colleagues from some of the more disreputable, newspapers fan the flames of prejudice by writing what they think as easy to write, populist safe topics. At heart, I sense that there is a genuine public bewilderment at a society that increasingly feels that government fails to deliver the primary requirements of government in terms of public safety and turn to blind retribution. It is an attitude that in an odd kind of way I can understand. What they don't see is that they help skew the political debate into reaching out for instant headline solutions which governments adopt and the professionals in the field are then left holding the baby. I speak of the range of punishments such as on the spot fines, anti-social behaviour orders, more and longer prison sentences, tagging, testing, "alcohol-free zones." But my perception, for what it is worth is that these are no real answers. But what is this 'public opinion' of which we so glibly speak and of what I spoke of just a second ago?" he asked in searching tones. "How many times have we all uttered those words….?"
……John on the end of the row gave a start and immediately scribbled a few notes in the margin of his neatly typewritten notes that he had just finished on his laptop computer. This very penetrating analysis from the journalist who was a cut above other members of his profession, jolted his sense of certainty that he had had, up till now. The situation was not as clear-cut as he had supposed and he might have to improvise his way through, after all…….
"……how many times do we think we know what is going on in society and how utterly dependent are we on opinion polls, the like which my colleagues in the press and on TV quote so readily? In reality, it is not public opinion leading the policy shapers but in reality, at best, policy makers act out what they project from their own ideas and attempt to drag the public along with them. At worst, they cynically manipulate the public for their own ends. There had to be proper alternatives to the increasingly untenable position of 'lock 'em up.' At this point, I wish to wind up and hand over to the professionals in the field and I can sit back and hope to learn from others what those answers might be."
"I remember when the Guardian printed that letter from Crystal," Muttered the still dormant wing governor in Helen as the speaker concluded. "Nice idea but a bit out of focus."
"They meant well," Nikki whispered back, her hurt at the knife in the back delivered by Shell against Helen having been healed by the passage of time.
Gradually, they were drawn into a discourse from many fields, the next at a rarefied level of academia, which stretched the empathetic skills from the diverse members in the audience and eased them into the conference proper. John was due to be on next and Karen, Nikki, Helen and Grayling had that slight feeling of being a fan watching the local legend appear on stage. He was theirs and they were all batting for him in their minds even if it was going to be their turn later on. The room fell quiet for the chairman's introduction and John firmly held his notes and strode purposefully down the room.
Grayling watched him with intense interest as a fellow professional now under the same roof. He adjusted the position of his notes on the sloping surface and began to speak.
"It is with some humility that I outline what I see as the judiciary's role in the eloquently reasoned dilemma of public opinion. Before I continue, I ought to emphasise that the views expressed may, or may not be representative of how the Lord Chancellor's Department would have me speak. Judges are individual, after all, and jealous of their independent powers. The first speaker very eloquently explored, if not attacked, the mythology of public opinion and, in my profession, how often have I mistakenly reasoned that the fitting sentence should be such that it maintains public confidence in the judiciary system. I have erred in also seeing the prison system as an abstract receptacle into which the convicted prisoner is placed for a varying period of sentence, the details of which I have been signally unaware of and the work of the prison officers I have been ignorant of. I have seen my remit at the point of passing sentence without having thought to the consequences. There has been an age old formula of separation of powers, that the police aided by the criminal prosecution service investigate alleged crimes, juries selected from the citizenship at large pass judgment as to guilt or otherwise, the judge passes the appropriate sentence and the prison service rehabilitates the prisoner. In recent years had been bolted on, a whole host of agencies in the community, psychiatrists…….." You mean, Lauren Atkins, thought Nikki fondly of him. "…………….probation officers and the like, all designed to cut down on reoffending so that I am not faced with the unhappy spectacle of the same person appearing before me on a fresh charge. Such specialization of function is all very well but the danger is that the left hand does not know what the right hand is doing……"
As John spoke so eloquently, he felt constrained by the microphone in being unable to casually pace around and the physical movement to call forth the ideas, which sprang to mind. This time, he was forcibly required to angle his comments to a much wider community and as he went along, he could see that his set speech was all very fine for a judge's seminar but was too inward looking. He conjured up the words as if he were playing an improvisation on his beloved Strad. Karen's mind was taken back to the three occasions when John had visited Larkhall, when he first dipped his toe into foreign waters to be amused at the connection between Monty Everard and the Two Trudies and touched by their innocence, hardly hardened criminals. The second occasion was more traumatic than that as he had come to abjectly apologise for his harsh words to Karen. Truly, he now realized that his own conception of justice left something to be desired. He had changed somewhat since then, or so he would like to think as other words floated into his mind even as he held forth. "What would you know?" Denny had stormed at him furiously. "You're just a bloke who thinks he knows best, because he's one of the pricks in wigs who gets to say yes or no, to someone like my Shaz ending up in a shit hole like this!" On the third occasion, yet again Denny Blood had crossed his path as she was on top of the hospital roof. He closed his eyes briefly. He did not care to think of that traumatic day more than he could help but the combined imagery and memories made the mental crossover so easy to accomplish with words from felt experience as he rounded into the verbal coda of his speech.
"…….each profession has its set of misconceptions from observers from the outside. In mine, there is the perception that the system of law is monolithic, set in rock, tension free. Nothing could be further from the truth. I have long considered my role as doing my level best to resist the steady encroachment of the executive upon the judiciary. The British establishment has grown greedy for power, highly sensitive if not paranoid to level minded criticism. It behoves the judiciary to gauge the real felt needs in society, to set both lead and example, in how justice is maintained but to be mindful of the traditions of ancient freedoms as well as inventing modern ones. It is a battle that is well fought for those who are bold and of firm will."
At the finale, Nikki was fractionally ahead of the others in leading a round of applause. He was not the judge adorned with a wig and red robes but an ordinary man, who had reached towards that common conundrum that the other professionals recognized from their individual perspectives. Karen felt proud of him and was deeply fascinated by the body language of the man, active in his own profession and transmitting it with sensitivity and insight in crystal clear words. Helen reflected that while Thomas was the most gorgeous man she had known, John was good competition for that abstract prize.
It was coffee break time before an open forum for questions and answers and they all filed out on an emotional high. After they had all queued up for liquid refreshments, Nikki and Karen made a dive for the exit to light up a much-needed cigarette. As they returned, Grayling intercepted them.
"I meant what I said about giving you a hand with your speeches. I would not dream of censoring in the least what you are intending to say but if you want me to play the role of 'audience', I will gladly help you sharpen them up so that you will feel as confident as you can for the next day."
"You're not all bad," joked Karen. "What are you smiling about? I can see that Cheshire Cat look on your face."
"Oh, nothing much," Grayling lied as he felt the copy of the Guardian article in his inside jacket pocket. It was patently clear to her that Grayling had been behaving in a mysterious furtive fashion as if he had something hidden up his sleeve.
All was revealed as the chair threw the meeting open to questions of the speakers or comments from the floor and Grayling confidently put his arm up and, typically, grabbed attention sufficiently to be called for first question.
"I'm Neil Grayling of the Home Office with the responsibility for women's prisons. At the risk of stealing the thunder from what I am sure will be positive and inspiring speeches from the prison service…….."
You bastard, thought Nikki and Karen in unison.
"…………..I thought I would illustrate a point that, from the point of view of an insider
even press reporting from as reputable a paper as the Guardian can lead to mixed messages where it is not entirely clear what causes in the reported deficiencies in a particular prison. Like John earlier on, I speak neither as propogandist nor apologist for the system but to simply set out the truth, wherever it points. I refer to the Guardian article of Wednesday March 30 2005 about the recent staff inspection of Holloway prison. In the middle of the article it gets to the heart of the issue where, and I quote. "Designed in the 19th century as a mixed prison, Holloway has been plagued with problems ever since the 1970s when it began admitting increasing numbers of women. On the positive side, it quotes the chief inspector of prisons, Anne Owers as saying that she praised the prison's management team for making significant improvements since her last inspection, to Holloway's healthcare system and the amount of time inmates were spending out of their cells. Welcoming the chief inspector's findings, Phil Wheatley, the director of prisons, pointed out that Holloway had just opened a new mother and baby unit and a refurbished healthcare centre was due to be completed in April. On the negative side, are that girls continue to be kept at Holloway, of "unacceptable" standards of cleanliness, that minority ethnic and foreign national prisoners were particularly vulnerable and of an extremely unsafe practice" of locking young women in bathrooms while showering and that staff are having to manage a "very high level of distress".
It concluded that Holloway has undoubtedly progressed since the last inspection but not to the extent that managers had hoped and we had expected and that the previous management team have tackled some of the acute problems with enthusiasm but aspects of the underlying culture remained unaddressed. In addition to this, it quotes from various prison reformers in the field that Holloway officers were cutting down as many as five women a day from nooses and of concerns about levels of drug abuse, self-harm and suicide. Although Ms Owers recognised that pressures on staff and management should ease following the opening last year of HMP Bronzefield, a new women's prison in Ashford, Middlesex, she recommended that Holloway should rework its anti-bullying strategy, comprehensively review its procedures for managing women at risk of self-harm and suicide and ensure that under-18s were no longer held."
My point is that, while the article makes a serious attempt to analyse a very complex situation, it remains hard even for the intelligent outsider to establish from this article whether the faults are with an individual prison officer, a group of them, the local organisation or simply that, with the best will in the world the prison system as a whole is simply overstretched."
All of his past experience of Larkhall flashed before his eyes as he concluded his address.
"Well, I did promise Alison Warner that I would keep you two on the straight and narrow," Grayling said with a sheepish smile after the controversy had died down and the conference had broken off late for the buffet lunch. His first warning of the repercussions to follow was his sight of three women converging on him with determined expressions on their faces while John sauntered along behind them.
"Yes, Neil, but you did not say exactly what you would be doing at this conference and that you had sneakily kept quiet from us your plans to steal the thunder of the next set of questions, the afternoon speaker and probably me and Nikki tomorrow," Chided Karen while Nikki and Helen visibly ganged up around him. For once John was not in the firing line and was mightily relieved that Neil would take the heat, not him.