George Monbiot (The law is gone but they are still in jail: who will free Britain’s most wronged prisoners?, 18 May) succinctly captures many of the injustices of sentences of imprisonment for public protection (IPP). I wish to highlight two dimensions to this cruel and unusual punishment that were prevalent when I interviewed men serving the sentence as part of doctoral research I conducted as a (now former) prison chaplain.
First, the risk they pose to the public is an important consideration to a parole board – rightly so. But the effect that indeterminate incarceration has on their wellbeing is not given proportionate weight. The deterioration in mental health with associated increased self-harm and suicide risks are well documented. This is state-sanctioned cruelty.
Second, as Monbiot’s article suggested, many people serving this sentence have come from tragic backgrounds. This hope-crushing sentence inflicts further harm, for which the system of incarceration is largely responsible.
What I experienced as most heartbreaking while a prison chaplain was that the humanity of those on an IPP sentence didn’t seem to count as much as it did for others in custody. Public risk always trumped personal risk to their own wellbeing, and they were blamed for the predictable way that they responded to the systemic harm inflicted on them. So they remained trapped in this Kafkaesque nightmare.
Rev Dr David Kirk Beedon
Newcastle-under-Lyme, Staffordshire
• In 2008, Scotland introduced its equivalent to the IPP – the order for lifelong restriction (OLR) sentence. Two sentences meted out in the early years of the OLR carried a punishment of less than two years. Our son is one of those two prisoners. He was given an OLR of 17 months. Fifteen years later, he has spent one third of his life in prison and he is no nearer release.
There are no courses for him to attend, there is no attempt at rehabilitation and no process for him to show that he has made progress. He has had 13 parole board hearings, but it is unable to release him without the consent of the Prison Service. That consent cannot be given as our son does not have the means to prove his reduced risk. This revolving-door system is designed never to halt.
In 2021, our son was diagnosed with autism, which can reasonably be seen to have contributed to his misreading of cues that had him accused and convicted of sexual assault. The Prison Service does not accept that his diagnosis in any way reduces or influences his risk.
Our MSP has tried to help us raise the issue with the justice department, without success. We have written many letters to the justice secretary since 2018. The Scottish government maintains the value of the OLR; the saddest part is its inability to learn from the experience in England and Wales with the IPP.
Name and address supplied
• I work as a psychotherapist in prisons. My concern with IPP sentences is that they perpetuate prisoners’ disempowerment. Prisoners’ motivation is to behave within the constraints of their sentencing. They undertake psychological programmes, but have to live with the fear that whatever they say or do will reflect on whether they can be released. They present with a dependency on a system to “fix them” rather than a belief in their own potential for change. The IPP narrative that a person is a danger to the public indeterminately can be a self-fulfilling prophecy. Or it can be challenged and a prisoner allowed to change.
Name and address supplied
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