Two shocking videos depicting prison guards at Corcoran subduing mentally-ill inmates with pepper spray and batons are the subject of federal litigation aimed at ending such brutal corporal punishment. The videos are not available for sharing online, but they have been viewed in court, and the Sacramento Bee describes their content:
In the first video, played to a hushed crowd of lawyers and reporters in Karlton’s 15th-floor courtroom in downtown Sacramento, an inmate in a mental health crisis unit at Corcoran State Prison is shown refusing to take medication from a psychologist visiting him in his cell. “He refused to take it,” the psychologist tells a waiting team of guards wearing gas masks, helmets, padded vests, gloves, protective jumpsuits and shin guards. The inmate, locked in his cell, was playing with his feces and threatening to throw two cups of an unknown substance on anyone who entered. Almost immediately after the psychologist emerged, the team began pumping pepper spray through the food port of the metal cell door, repeatedly dousing the inmate between warnings that he better come out. The team opened the door, dragging the inmate out and wrestling him to the floor as he alternately sobbed and screamed, “Don’t do this to me,” “help,” and “I don’t want to be executed.”
The motion focuses on Eighth Amendment and Fourteenth Amendment violations, including force against inmates manifesting symptoms of mental illness, excessive use of pepper spray and of expandable batons, and requests that the Court order CDCR to revise their use-of-force policies to provide training, quality and assurance processes.
As Bakersfield Now reports, things have not been looking good for the state in court:
In its response brief, CDCR argues that it has a comprehensive use-of-force policy, revised in 2010, that takes into account mentally ill inmates and includes appropriate training and discipline provisions. The brief also argues that the high standard for intervention under the Prison Litigation Reform Act (PLRA) has not been met. The two videos, the defendants argue, do not demonstrate a “pattern or practice” of disproportionate force.
The state’s own expert witness testified that guards use pepper spray far too often and in quantities that are too great. He also said previous recommendations for changes were rejected or ignored.
The Contra Costa Times quoted Michael Stainer, Director of CDCR’s Division of Adult Institutions, who described the depicted incidents as “at best, controlled chaos.”
Judge Karlton is to issue his decision in a few days.
And now, this is how things stood: the cat was sitting on one branch, the bird on another… not too close to the cat… and the wolf walked around and around the tree looking at them with greedy eyes. –Sergei Prokofiev, Peter and the Wolf (1936)
Developments in the last few months raise grim questions about the wisdom of leaving California to its own devices in trying to solve its overcrowding problem. Since the initial three-judge panel order in Plata v. Schwarzenengger (2009), the state has fought tooth and nail against the order to reduce population, and the struggle against the court mandate continued even after the Supreme Court confirmed the order, 5-4, in Brown v. Plata (2011). Numerous state appeals and motions to change the order and delay the timeline for population reduction (some of them bordering on contempt of court) have been thwarted. The last of these is the Supreme Court’s rejection of the state’s appeal yesterday. The Chron reports:
The high court’s one-line dismissal – which said only that the court lacked jurisdiction to step in – leaves intact a three-judge federal panel’s directive to the state to slash its population of 120,000 inmates in 33 prisons. . . . Brown has been fighting for years the prospect of releasing some prisoners early, saying he was worried it could increase crime. Advocates and attorneys for prisoners have pushed for reforms in sentencing that they say would safely shrink the prison system. Through a spokeswoman, Brown referred Tuesday to a statement released by California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation spokeswoman Deborah Hoffman, which said officials were “disappointed the state’s case won’t be heard.”
But this rejection is far from being the big victory that inmate rights advocates are seeking. The original order in Plata was to reduce overcrowding in prison to 137.5% capacity, but it famously left it up to the state to find the means to do so. Moreover, Justice Kennedy’s celebrated opinion of the court in 2011 explicitly stated that one way of doing so could be via more prison construction. In 2011, activists and advocates felt comfortable in the knowledge that prison construction was impossible; the state was broke and public sentiment was that correctional expenditures were already excessive, to the point that former Governor Schwarzenegger suggested enacting a law that would prohibit correctional expenditures to exceed educational expenditures. It now, however, appears that “the money is there” to start privatizing California’s prisons en mass, via lucrative contracts with Correctional Corporation of America and the GEO Group.
California never had dealings with private prison providers on its own soil, though it did send 10,000 of its inmates to CCA institutions out of state and was a significant source of income for the company. This was not because of some principled objection to privatization; rather, it was because the California Correctional Peace Officer Association (CCPOA) actively resisted privatization out of concern for the guards’ employment. As Josh Page reveals in The Toughest Beat, CCPOA is so powerful in California that even a prison built in CA by CCA entirely on speculation was left empty. But these difficulties have been resolved: Governor Brown, historically a good friend and ally of the prison guards union, has promised them that they would be employed in these newly-constructed private prisons. This promise made old enemies – state prison guards and private prison providers – into allies, and sealed the deal toward a projected expenditure of $315 million of my money and yours on prison construction.
Obviously CCA is laughing all the way to the bank – a rare and enviable position for a corporation at the end of a recession and during a government shutdown. Here’s how this lucrative contract looks from Tennessee, home of CCA. The Nashville post reports:
The lease agreement between CCA and the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation calls for the state — which is under a court order to reduce overcrowding in its jails — to pay Nashville-based CCA $28.5 million per year starting Dec. 1. If the two sides agree to two-year extensions after three years, the rent will begin to increase gradually. CCA also has committed to spending $10 million on improvements at its 2,304-bed California City Correctional Center; renovations beyond that will be paid for by California. “We appreciate the opportunity to expand upon our longstanding relationship with the CDCR and the state of California,” said CCA CEO Damon Hininger. “Our ability to react quickly to our partners’ needs with innovative solutions that make the best use of taxpayer dollars exemplifies the flexibility that CCA is able to provide.” In conjunction with its California contract news — which had been expected since August — Hininger and his team also said CCA’s fourth-quarter profits will be hurt by a number of factors, including the spending needed to reopen its California City complex. Among them: Lower inmate counts related to its contracts with the U.S. Marshals Service and Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency, which are believed to be “due to the furlough of government employees and other consequences of the federal government shutdown.” On top of that, CCA’s leadership has begun spending money to prepare vacant prisons in anticipation of more business from California late this year. The total impact of those factors on Q4 numbers isn’t yet clear, the company said. Analysts are expecting the company to earn 49 cents per share during the fourth quarter. Investors chose to put more emphasis on the new California cash that will start arriving in December. As of about 1:35 p.m., shares of CCA (Ticker: CXW) were up about 1.5 percent to $35.81, putting them back in positive territory for the year.
If you’re still capable of keeping your breakfast down, you didn’t read carefully enough.
Governor Brown essentially put the ball in the hands of the federal courts, by saying – if you don’t give us some time to cope with the expected releases, we’ll have to recur to privatization and high-expense construction. This option was produced, as if out of a magician’s hat, in the height of the California Criminal Justice Realignment, which presumably redistributes overcrowding and internalizes its expenses by making counties, who are responsible for charging and sentencing, think about incarceration alternatives and manage their own convict population. One has to wonder what good this experiment is if, suddenly, we’re building private prisons in three counties and contributing $28.5 million per annum, to the foreseeable future and beyond, to CCA’s bottom line.
We will continue following up on developments and reporting as we have for the last five years.
A long line of high school students filed into the courthouse at 2 o’clock.One attorney told me she had never seen such a turn out for oral arguments. Judge Wilken interrupted the attorneys’ appearances to welcome the high school students.She highlighted the importance of their attendance at a case involving such serious issues.
A group of Pelican Bay inmates seeks class certification to bring two claims against Governor Brown and CDCR. Under current CDCR protocol, tattoos, reading materials, associations with other prisoners, and other factors earn inmates “points” towards being “validated” as a gang member. Validated inmates are placed in solitary confinement, or, “the SHU” (secure housing unit), indefinitely. The inmates claim this “indefinite SHU time for constitutionally infirm reasons” violates due process.The inmates also seek to certify a “subset” of the class: inmates who have been in the SHU for longer than 10 years.This subset brings an 8th Amendment challenge, arguing that 10+ years in solitary confinement poses an “unacceptable risk to prisoners.”
Judge Wilken took issue primarily with the inmates’ method for defining the 8th Amendment class.A key question cannot be answered except through discovery: how many, if any, inmates have been in SHU for longer than 10 years for reasons other than gang validation?The inmates’ counsel stated that he suspects, but must determine through discovery, that no inmates have been in the SHU beyond 10 years for any other reason. Judge Wilken expressed concern about certifying the class without knowing the characteristics of its members with certainty. To bring a class action, the inmate group must satisfy the conditions of commonality and typicality.She also explained that the 8th Amendment test to determine whether punishment is cruel and unusual compares the severity of punishment against the gravity of the offense.The 8th Amendment balancing calculus would differ for the inmate who has been in the SHU for longer than 10 years because he murdered another inmate, for example, and the inmate in the SHU 10+ years for gang validation, and gang validation only.
Judge Wilken preferred to visualize the due process and 8th Amendment groups as a Venn diagram instead of an umbrella group and subset: all of the members of the due process group challenging gang validation in one circle, in the other circle, all of the 8th Amendment group members challenging 10+ years in the SHU, and in the overlap, those who have been in the SHU for more than 10 years for gang validation only.The inmates believe all of the 8th Amendment group members also fit within the due process class.That fact will be determined in discovery.
Neither party objected to defining the potential due process class as “all inmates serving indeterminate sentences at Pelican Bay SHU pursuant to Title 15 as of x date, on the basis of gang validation only.” For the 8th Amendment challenge, Judge Wilken suggested the parties amend the complaint once they have determined the number, if any, of inmates in SHU for 10+ years for reasons other than gang validation.
Discovery will involve interviewing more than 100 inmates.The discovery deadline is set for late March, summary judgment June 19, and bench trial nov 3-21 bench trial. Neither party expressed enthusiasm when Judge Wilken discussed settlement.
Around a hundred people – family members, activists, lawyers, reporters, and even a group of high school history students – gathered yesterday outside the Oakland Courthouse to advocate an end to long-term solitary confinement in California. The rally and press conference was organized by Prisoner Hunger Strike Solidarity, a coalition that provided support to California prisoners engaged in a recent 60 day long hunger strike. With around 30,000 initial participants, the hunger strike centered around 5 core demands to end to the inhumane and unjust conditions of California’s Security Housing Unit (SHU) system.
The focal point of the prisoner hunger strike, Pelican Bay SHU, is also the subject of the lawsuit considered yesterday in Oakland.In Ashker v. Brown, a group of prisoners is suing CDCR and Governor Brown to secure an injunction against indeterminate SHU sentencing based on gang validation.The case, presided over by U.S. District Court Judge Claudia Wilken, is being litigated by Legal Services for Prisoners with Children (LSPC), the Center for Constitutional Rights(CCR), and other co-counsel from around the country.
Yesterday, Judge Wilken heard oral arguments on a motion to certify a class of plaintiffs in Ashker who would assert due process violations based on gang validation, as well as cruel and unusual punishment of those prisoners who have been in isolation for more than ten years.Granting the motion, under Federal Rule 23, would mean these claims would be brought on behalf of a large group of prisoners who have each suffered solitary confinement, rather than on behalf of individual plaintiffs.Among other things, Rule 23 requires that there are grievances common to all class members and that the claims of the named plaintiffs are typical of others in the group.
In yesterday’s oral arguments (see the motion for class certification here), Judge Wilken’s questions focused first on how the commonality of the class is affected by CDCR’s new gang validation pilot program.Specifically, since the commencement of the Ashker case, CDCR has created a Security Threat Group (STG) pilot program that it claims resolves the due process violations of the prior validation system.
Judge Wilken expressed concern that those prisoners sentenced to indeterminate SHU terms under the old validation system would constitute a different class from those validated under the STG pilot program.However, as CCR Attorney Alexi Agathocleous – who argued today on behalf of the plaintiffs – pointed out, CDCR has yet to provide any evidence that the pilot program addresses any of the due process issues raised in the complaint, such as being able to use the possession of artwork to sentence prisoners to indefinite isolation.
In addition to the due process claim, the lawsuit asserts that the 8th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution is violated when gang-validated prisoners are kept in solitary for more than a decade.Though the Ashker case defines these prisoners as part of a “subclass,” Judge Wilken questioned whether there were potentially prisoners who had been detained in the SHU for more than ten years who were serving determinate sentences.
It is worth distinguishing here that those sentenced to SHU terms can either serve set, determinate sentences for behavioral violations under Title 15 or be assigned indeterminate sentences on the basis of suspected gang association.Plaintiffs yesterday pointed out that it is unlikely that there is a separate class of prisoners who have been in SHU for more than ten years because, under Title 15, even the most severe rule violation – murder of a non-inmate – is punishable by a maximum of five years in SHU.(As an aside, the UN has statedthat solitary confinement in excess of 15 days amounts to torture.)
To follow the litigation of Ashker v. Brown – including Judge Wilken’s ruling on the motion to certify the class – and the Pelican Bay Human Rights Movement, visit LSPC, PHSS, or CCR.
The struggle against long-term solitary confinement continues even after the end of the hunger strike. A group of inmates is suing Gov. Brown and CDCR, hoping for an injunction to end gang validations, confinement based on flimsy evidence, and solitary confinement for long periods of time. They did not get a preliminary injunction, but the motion to dismiss was denied as well.
In the lawsuit, the inmates bring up two types of constitutional arguments:
Due Process arguments, addressing the process by which people are placed in solitary confinement indefinitely. One can end up in solitary confinement for a defined period of time, for a violation of prison rules; this lawsuit addresses a different category of cases, in which people are classified as gang members based on problematic and scant evidence and placed in solitary confinement with no end in sight. If the court accepts this claim, it will order an overhaul of CDCR regulations regarding gang validation.
Eighth Amendment arguments, addressing the physical and mental health risks involved in confining human beings in segregated conditions for more than ten years. There is a solid body of evidence regarding the horrific and irreversible impact of spending dozens of years in a small cell by oneself for 22.5 hours a day, with no human contact, on a person’s body and psyche (see fact sheet). If the court accepts this claim, the best case scenario is a cap on using solitary confinement for periods exceeding ten years.
The first step in court is to have the lawsuit class certified under Federal Rule 23. What that means, in legal parlance, is that the lawsuit becomes a petition on behalf of a group of inmates, rather than the individual petitioners. With regard to the due process argument, the appropriate class consists of all inmates who are in solitary confinement for an indefinite period following a gang validation process. With regard to the Eighth Amendment argument, the appropriate class consists of anyone doing time in solitary for more than ten years. Here’s the petition for class certification.
Under Rule 23, the inmates will have to prove that they are too numerous a group to litigate individually, and that the representative inmates bringing the suit are adequate representatives with claims that are typical to the entire group. This has been a problem in the past sometimes, when inmates brought up common law questions that would require individually-tailored legal responses. It does not seem that this is the case here. What the petitioners are seeking is a change in validation policy and a cap on confinement length, a remedy that would address the concerns of the entire class. So, the petition for class certification seems to have a fairly good chance. As to the merits of the suit, we’ll continue following it.
Interested in attending the oral argument?
When: Thursday, Sept. 26, 2013 at 2:00 p.m. Where: Oakland Courthouse, Courtroom 2, 4th floor, 1301 Clay Street, Oakland, CA, 94612 before Chief District Judge Claudia Wilken.
The Center for Constitutional Rights wants people to attend the hearing. If you plan on showing up, do your best to arrive 30 minutes to one hour early, in order to go through security. Everyone will need a current form of identification in order to get inside the building.
For those of you who can’t make it, the CCC blog will cover the oral argument. ___________________________ Thanks to my colleague Morris Ratner for our conversation about class certification.
A federal judge has approved CDCR’s request to force-feed inmates if necessary. The Associated Press reports:
Officials say they fear for the welfare of nearly 70 inmates who have refused all prison-issued meals since the strike began July 8 over the holding of gang leaders and other violent inmates in solitary confinement that can last for decades.
They are among nearly 130 inmates in six prisons who were refusing meals. When the strike began it included nearly 30,000 of the 133,000 inmates in California prisons.
Prison policy is to let inmates starve to death if they have signed legally binding do-not-resuscitate requests.
But state corrections officials and a federal receiver who controls inmate medical care received blanket authority from U.S. District Judge Thelton Henderson of San Francisco to feed inmates who may be in failing health.
The order includes those who recently signed requests that they not be revived.
This blanket permission raises a number of important ethical considerations. This New York Times debate highlights various fascinating aspects of the dilemma. You’ll note that reactions to this practice differ according to the commentators’ affiliations. Medical staff, abiding by their Hippocratic oath, may find it difficult to administer “a health-care solution to a political problem.” Some of the legal challenges are highlighted in this piece by Tracey Ohm. In arguing that force-feeding is unconstitutional, some argue that fasting is protected speech, and some argue that it is part of the right to privacy.
Quito is a beautiful high-altitude city in the shadow of Mount Pichincha, with amazing art, colonial architecture, and marvelous parks. And, of course, as one does, the first thing I did this morning was read the local paper, El Comercio, which featured this amazing story about a wrongfully convicted man and his post-exoneration life.
Here’s the bit that caught my eye:
Según datos de la Defensoría Pública, el 65% de personas apresadas recuperó su libertad porque no se hallaron pruebas en su contra. Estos datos fueron levantados desde el 2007 hasta el 2010. (According to data from the Public Defender, 65% of arrested people were freed because there was no proof against them. These data was collected between 2007 and 2010. My translation–H.A.)
In fact, the article notes that wrongful convictions are so common that the Public Defender’s office has a psychological department dedicated to help exonerated people deal with the stigma and reclaim their lives.
Expect more reports on the Ecuadorian justice system.
What a tragic week in which to watch Fruitvale Station, a dramatization of the last day in the life of Oscar Grant, shot by BART police officer Johannes Mehserle on New Year’s Eve of 2008. Still raw and thoughtful after the week of intense public commentary on George Zimmerman’s acquittal of Trayvon Martin’s murder, a San Francisco audience wept tonight at the Metreon as they saw a familiar scene come to life: A brutal shooting of a handcuffed man, in grainy cellular phone footage first, and in dramatized high definition much later.
The film walks us through a day in the life of Grant, a 22-year-old man, teetering between two courses of life: Responsibility, a steady job, and a stable relationship with his young daughter’s mother, and a life of drugs in the street that led him to a stint in San Quentin the previous year. His family and friends, and especially his girlfriend, come to life, not in an idealized, canonized, haloed poster image for a demonstration, but like any of us: Living, loving, making mistakes, having fun, getting angry, trying, failing, succeeding.
Here is what I am glad the movie does not tell us: That we should canonize Oscar Grant as the saint of the struggle against police abuse of power and racialized violence. or that his life was exemplary and flawless.
The movie also does not tell us this: That Oscar Grant is nobody, his life not worth remembering except for the event of his death.
Instead, the movie tells us what we should all remember: That Oscar Grant should be canonized. As all of us should – every single one of us. Because every human life is valuable and precious and has intrinsic value. Grant’s, and Mehserle’s, and Martin’s, and Zimmerman’s. And because the measure of a life is not its death or its achievements, but the small magic it works in our loved ones and friends and family members. In the little deeds, like dropping off our kids at school, or going to the supermarket to buy ingredients for gumbo, or at the greeting cards aisle picking a silly card for a relative.
And yet–even though all lives are precious and valuable–some lives are worth less than others. David Baldus‘ study of the death penalty indicated the way prejudice operates through the race of the victim; black victims’ murderers, whether white or black, fared more leniently than their counterparts with white victims. If you will, this is where the prevalent “let them kill each other” approach comes from. And a grim reminder that underenforcement, like overenforcement, is not race blind.
Far from offering overt racial preachy monologues, the film exposes the experience of an African American working class life in a way that weaves the racial experience intrinsically into the minutiae of one’s day, in life and in death. One’s consciousness need not be raised for one to experience the subtle effects of race on one’s life. In a humorous scene, Grant’s sister asks him to buy a card on her behalf for her mother’s birthday. “Don’t buy a white card,” she asks, a reminder that even in the Hallmark aisle there are symbols and themes and that even cute pastel slogans speak to different life experiences.
And, through the fighting scene with a former fellow inmate on BART that led to Grant’s apprehension and shooting at the station, the movie tells us one more thing: That the experience of imprisonment is toxic, poisonous, and that life on the outside is permeable to life on the inside. That animosities behind bars have a way of affecting interactions on the outside. That an imprisonment experience that offers no growth, no hope, no betterment, promises only pain and tragedy.
—————— Many thanks to the many friends who came with me to see the film tonight for their wise words.
But what did the Court really say about Prop 8? Rather than reaching the decision on its merits and expressing a clear opinion about the proposition’s constitutionality, the Court found that, when a state government is unwilling to defend one of its laws, private citizens cannot do so in its stead–not even when said citizens were pointed to by the government as possible ideological and financial stewards of this law. The dissenters, I’m sure, would come to different conclusions on the merits, but the opinion of the court is based on what Chief Justice Roberts and others consider principles of sound government. This is particularly interesting in the context of a neopopulist, direct democracy system like the one in California, in which legislative impasse requires that ideologically controversial laws be taken up by the voters.
The five Justices were very cautious not to attach value judgments to their no-standing decision, but we are free to think whether such meanings exist. Usually, the test for standing has to do with whether the party in question has a stake in the matter before the court. And it could be argued (albeit with little help from the text in Hollingsworth) that a no-standing argument is a broader statement against the notion that same-sex marriage somehow affects–in injury or otherwise–people who are not same-sex couples. The little graphic below, which made the rounds on the social networks in the last few months, is an expression of this interpretation of lack of standing: That gay people can now marry has no injurious effect on the institution of marriage itself, so no one but the government can argue against it.
But on further thought, this interpretation of standing is not the deepest or most interesting stance on the matter. After all, that same-sex marriages may proceed in California, now with full federal backing and support, does have an effect on everyone in the state, in the sense that we all live in a more just and egalitarian society, that has taken an important step in furthering civil rights. This is why organizations such as the ACLU of Northern California have a stake in the decision, if not as official parties then at least as amici. This is not, however, a matter of technical legal standing, but rather one of moral standing; when some of us don’t get our civil rights, it affects all of us in a variety of ways.
What does all of this have to do with the hunger strike? I have recently had a chance to interact with various progressive audiences, only to find out that they were unaware of the hunger strike that begins tomorrow in Pelican Bay, Corcoran, and possibly other prisons. Those who knew, vaguely, about the strike, were not well informed about the inmates’ five core demands and of CDCR’s new protocols’ failure to address them. Very few people know that Christian Gomez, an inmate at Corcoran, died during the previous hunger strike. Very few people know that the strike galvanized agreements across races and gang affiliations. My grave concern is that, like its predecessors, this strike will receive little publicity, and the illness and possible death that might result will remain unknown and unexamined. And this is because I think we all have standing on this matter. Not in the strictly legal sense, but in the sense that treating our fellow human beings, Americans, Californians, in inhumane ways does have a detrimental effect on how we all treat each other.
What keeps us unaware of prison conditions, why do many of us feel that we lack “moral standing” on incarceration conditions? Some of this has to do with misinformation. Mainstream media does not cover incarceration frequently, though the financial crisis has begun to change that insofar as expenditures on corrections affect our wallets. Still, since incarceration does not affect everyone equally, many of us are likely to familiarize ourselves with its evils through the increasing number of new TV shows about prison (such as the new Orange is the New Black,) which will likely not tell us anything of social or political value. Even shows that purported to offer some critique of the system left its basic tenets unexamined. Moreover, prisons themselves are distant from the consciousness of those not directly affected. The disparate effect of incarceration is exaggerated by institutions like Pelican Bay and Corcoran, which are far away from major urban centers and very difficult to get to, and by the worrisome prospect of even larger, more isolated institutions.
But one should be informed, and one should care, because incarceration and segregation regimes do affect all of us First of all, one in a hundred Americans is behind bars, and one in 36 is under some form of correctional supervision. That person could be you. While I think articles like this one are somewhat facetious–the people targeted by technology laws are unlikely to be the critical mass of inmates in California prisons, for a variety of reasons involving race, class, and enforcement priorities–those are still vast numbers of lives touched by the experience of imprisonment. But at least one must acknowledge that the vast numbers of incarcerated people mean that the experience of incarceration touches many, many lives, such as those of 2.5 million children with parents behind bars. If that child is not you, he or she is your future neighbor, coworker, and fellow citizen. Most people behind bars will, one day, be released, and it is to the benefit of all of us that they have some chance of reintegration because we all have to interact with each other, even when someone we don’t know crosses our path in our gated community.
Second, even if your life has not been touched by incarceration, the dehumanization of your fellow citizens may eventually spill over to the way your government sees you. This is why the recent discoveries about phone surveillance cannot be brushed away with the supposition that, if one is not a terrorist, one is not affected by PRISM. Approaches toward human rights, surveillance and social control tend to be imported and exported across systems and institutions, and not caring about other human beings’ conditions of confinement may infect conditions in schools and other places.
Third, there is the persistent question of how much all of this costs us. Even if this system could be stomached from the humanitarian perspective, is it financially viable?
And finally, there is a serious moral argument. Do you want to be part of a society that locks up people for many years, sometimes decades, for 22.5 hours a day, waking them up frequently so they get little to no sleep, with no human company whatsoever, abysmal medical care, and very poor food? Do you feel comfortable subjecting others to this regime based on partial and faulty information, particularly reports of some people on others to receive a reprieve from this same system? Do you believe tattoos and rumors to be a fair indication of gang affiliation, enough to place a person in this system for years? And do you feel comfortable with the possibility that we might have made a mistake and subjected an innocent person to years of horrific torture?
If not, stand with the hunger strikers tomorrow. Because you have moral standing.
