newyorker:

The Caging of America; Why do we lock up so many people?

The scale and the brutality of our prisons are the moral scandal of  American life. Every day, at least fifty thousand men—a full house at  Yankee Stadium—wake in solitary confinement, often in “supermax” prisons  or prison wings, in which men are locked in small cells, where they see  no one, cannot freely read and write, and are allowed out just once a  day for an hour’s solo “exercise.” (Lock yourself in your bathroom and  then imagine you have to stay there for the next ten years, and you will  have some sense of the experience.) Prison rape is so endemic—more than  seventy thousand prisoners are raped each year—that it is routinely  held out as a threat, part of the punishment to be expected. The subject  is standard fodder for comedy, and an uncoöperative suspect being  threatened with rape in prison is now represented, every night on  television, as an ordinary and rather lovable bit of policing. The  normalization of prison rape—like eighteenth-century japery about  watching men struggle as they die on the gallows—will surely strike our  descendants as chillingly sadistic, incomprehensible on the part of  people who thought themselves civilized. Though we avoid looking  directly at prisons, they seep obliquely into our fashions and manners.  Wealthy white teen-agers in baggy jeans and laceless shoes and multiple  tattoos show, unconsciously, the reality of incarceration that acts as a  hidden foundation for the country.

- In this week’s issue, Adam Gopnik writes about mass incarceration and criminal justice in America: http://nyr.kr/A75iOm
Photograph by Steve Liss.

 This for-profit prison system, alone, signifies the depravity of our culture.

newyorker:

The Caging of America; Why do we lock up so many people?

The scale and the brutality of our prisons are the moral scandal of American life. Every day, at least fifty thousand men—a full house at Yankee Stadium—wake in solitary confinement, often in “supermax” prisons or prison wings, in which men are locked in small cells, where they see no one, cannot freely read and write, and are allowed out just once a day for an hour’s solo “exercise.” (Lock yourself in your bathroom and then imagine you have to stay there for the next ten years, and you will have some sense of the experience.) Prison rape is so endemic—more than seventy thousand prisoners are raped each year—that it is routinely held out as a threat, part of the punishment to be expected. The subject is standard fodder for comedy, and an uncoöperative suspect being threatened with rape in prison is now represented, every night on television, as an ordinary and rather lovable bit of policing. The normalization of prison rape—like eighteenth-century japery about watching men struggle as they die on the gallows—will surely strike our descendants as chillingly sadistic, incomprehensible on the part of people who thought themselves civilized. Though we avoid looking directly at prisons, they seep obliquely into our fashions and manners. Wealthy white teen-agers in baggy jeans and laceless shoes and multiple tattoos show, unconsciously, the reality of incarceration that acts as a hidden foundation for the country.

- In this week’s issue, Adam Gopnik writes about mass incarceration and criminal justice in America: http://nyr.kr/A75iOm

Photograph by Steve Liss.

 This for-profit prison system, alone, signifies the depravity of our culture.