Cashing in on Cons

By Silja J.A. Talvi, In These Times. Posted February 10, 2005.

In 1971, investigative journalist Jessica Mitford attended the 101st Congress of the American Correctional Association (ACA) in Miami Beach. The ACA was founded in 1870 as the National Prison Association by reform-minded wardens who saw promise in the rehabilitation, religious redemption and humane treatment of prisoners. By 1971 they had developed a substantial membership, attracting 2,000 attendees to that year's congress.

In her seminal 1973 book, Kind and Usual Punishment: The Prison Business, Mitford reported that the organization had shifted its focus from reforming and rehabilitating prisoners to reaping profit from incarceration. Exhibitors, she wrote, sold everything from tear gas grenades to stun gun prototypes. And with prisons facing costly lawsuits instigated by prisoners, litigation, Mitford wrote, was "very much on everybody's mind."

Thirty years later, how much has changed?

The 2005 winter conference in Phoenix – attended by an estimted 4,000 – found the ACA still touting its principles: "Humanity, Justice, Protection, Opportunity, Knowledge, Competence and Accountability." The organization stresses that it brings together individuals and groups "that share a common goal of improving the justice system." But with the prison industry now bringing in annual revenue of $50 billion, the ACA seems most intent on "improving" profits.

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Today's ACA is a sleeker version of the organization Mitford examined, complete with online certification courses for correctional employees (starting at $29.95) and an expensive prison accreditation process that claims to instill transparency and accountability. Members are enticed to earn accreditation in order to receive up to a 10 percent discount on prison liability insurance (see "A Dubious Distinction").

Keeping litigation costs down is only one way prison corporations profit from incarceration. In addition, for-profit prisons also increase revenues by contracting with other corporations to provide substandard or overpriced services to prisoners. In some states, companies like Microsoft pay prisons to employ prisoners at wages far below market rates.

Taking advantage of the unprecedented prison boom of the late '80s and '90s, prison administrators, politicians, lobbying firms and corporate boards created a prison-industrial complex in which everyone benefits except the prisoners.

In 1980, federal and state prisons incarcerated 316,000 people. In 1990, that number had grown to 740,000, not including jail populations. By 2000, the number of prisoners had surpassed 1.3 million. Prison construction accompanied this growth: More than 1,000 prisons are now in operation, and each new prison comes with a bevy of contracts for construction and services.

The ACA conference is where many of these transactions are cemented.

Noting that the prison population may have reached its apogee, ACA president Gwendolyn C. Chunn told members at the conference, "We'll have a hard time holding on to what we have now." But attendees seemed more than willing to try; everyone at the conference seemed to be riding high on the promise of growth, expansion and profits.

Just Business

This conference's theme was "Corrections Contributions to a Safer World," and the conference program didn't try to hide the gathering's militaristic bent. The cover of the 201-page ACA booklet featured a soldier with an enormous phallic tank gun, superimposed over the blue planet earth. And ACA's three keynote speakers were prominent conservatives or military officers: retired Gen. Anthony Zinni, Michael Durant, the pilot of Black Hawk Down fame, and disgraced Homeland Security nominee Bernard Kerik.

The conference was financially supported by private prison giants such as the Corrections Corporation of America (CCA), the GEO Group (formerly known as Wackenhut), Correctional Services Corporation (CSC) and Correctional Medical Services (see "Detention Blues," July 5, 2004 for background on CSC). The titles of the dozens of overlapping workshops indicated what the ACA defined as the latest trends in corrections: "Faith-Based Juvenile Programming," "Anti-Terrorism in Correctional Facilities," and "Can't Simply Paint it Pink and Call it a Girl's Program."

One workshop – "Intensive Medical Management: How to Handle Prisoners Who Self-Mutilate, Slime, Starve, Spit and Scratch" – featured footage of a non-violent paranoid schizophrenic in Utah being forcibly extracted from his cell and then tied down to a restraint chair. After being strapped down naked for 16 hours, the delusional prisoner died. The session was facilitated by Todd Wilcox, the medical director of the Salt Lake County Metro Jail, who used the imagery as an example of how to avoid costly litigation. "Don't get personal with this," Wilcox said. "It's just business." He reminded the audience how important it is to sever the "emotional leash" that guards and nurses can form with inmates. He also referred to some mentally-ill patients with "Axis II disorders" as "the people we affectionately call 'the assholes.' "

In reporting this story, the author did not disclose her identity as a journalist. All the attributed quotes in this article come from individuals speaking in an official capacity at ACA events.

Silja J.A. Talvi, an award-winning journalist, is currently writing a book about women in prison.

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