Mass incarceration is a system manufactured by the White majority to replace slave labor with an indentured servitude that ensnares all lower-class citizens but is mostly people of color. And the so-called “justice” system is in fact a business that treats people saddled with federal charges as captive consumers. From the charges for our tablets, along with the mindless movies that help us pass our time, to our emails home, to the extra food and toiletries we are forced to buy to supplement the meager prison fare, private companies profit off of our families (who, if we’re lucky, send us money to finance these purchases).
Too much focus has gone to private prisons; government prisons are just as cannibalistic. And it is in this world of captive consumerism that prisoners have created our own subsociety. Just like on the surface, money rules. (I think of living in prison as being underwater; the “other life” is above.) Everything costs!
The first fact you need to know is that contrary to common belief, the federal Bureau of Prisons does not provide us with sufficient food, toilet paper and other necessities of daily life. The rest we must buy. Where do you get the financial resources to do that? Among the average federal prison population of 1,400-1,800, maybe 250 are employed. Who gets those jobs is a matter of politics. For example, if the supervisor is of Latin descent, he or she will most likely hire Latinos. And even if you’re one of the fortunate ones, the typical pay is 17 cents per hour, which averages out to about $35 a month. (This doesn’t include jobs at prison factories called UNICOR, which are somewhat better paid, but are found only at 70 of 122 institutions.) Sure, we can receive money from our families, but most of them are low income.
So, survival often comes down to how well you can hustle. And hustle you must, because when you first arrive in federal prison, all you’re given are several uniforms, the most uncomfortable pair of boots you can imagine, a couple of under garments and a few pairs of socks – with all but the uniforms of such low quality that it seems intentional, so inmates must buy replacements from the commissary. The same is true for toilet paper, toothpaste, etc. Everyone prefers to buy their own if they can.
But instead of dollar bills, the currency is the almighty postage stamp. After all, transactions require something tangible that can be exchanged, which has universal value. We can’t get dollars easily here, so we use stamps. (Before stamps, it was cigarettes. But in 2006, the BOP decided that not even people sentenced to be incarcerated for much of their lives could smoke. The first alternative was food from the prison commissary. That didn’t work out, though, because inflation caused prices to fluctuate too much. Then came April 2007, when the U.S. Postal Service converted to “FOREVER” stamps; we found our new currency. They are legal and sold in every prison, so even when people are transferred, their stamps can follow them in their property.
Everything that goes on within an institution can be and is monetized, with a “stamp value” assigned. That includes cleaning another person’s cell, ironing and washing clothes, researching and preparing a legal filing, and even something as personal as writing a love letter. Everything costs! Inmates who work in the prison kitchen take full advantage of their jobs by stealing food and selling it their units, in return for postage stamps of course. A few of onions and bell peppers cost an average of $5 dollars each, which converts into 25 stamps (traded in books of five).
The main commodities in demand in prison are drugs and food! (The amount of food served for meals is so small, and the quality so poor, that adult men will go hungry and develop high blood pressure, etc. if they rely on that alone.) Who gets access to what is determined not just by who has stamps, but also which group is in the majority. And that is usually influenced by where the prison is located (most prisons are dominated by inmates from that region). So, for example, FCI Cumberland (Maryland) and the entire Hazelton complex (West Virginia) house large numbers of DC residents. In rare cases, minorities rule if they control a channel for introducing drugs or other lucrative, illegal contraband, such as cellphones and tobacco. Money (stamps) is the great equalizer!
Every day is a hustle! Inmates begin their day when the cell doors open, eager to watch television and check the scores from the major sports games that took place the night before. Gambling is another hustle; inmates gamble on anything from card games such as Spades and Poker to foot races in the rec yard. Gambling is a major money machine in prison, vital to keeping stamps in circulation. When bookies or drug dealers amass too many stamps, they are converted into hard cash via outside connections with platforms such as CashApp and Chime. (The BOP has published a proposal designed to stop this practice by making use of these apps on behalf of prisoners a serious rule infraction. I’m not sure how it would be detected and monitored, however.)
Finding a way to exist in prison is like adjusting to living in the wild. It’s necessary to find a way to be somewhat comfortable. This process of survival is what keeps many inmates mired in the criminal thinking that led to their incarceration to begin with. I believe the architects of the criminal “justice” system understand this. The resulting recidivism keeps the system churning along. Before judging, think about this: An inmate spends his entire prison term struggling day to day to secure a need as basic as a meal at the end of the night so he doesn’t have to go to sleep hungry. Most prisons serve their meager dinner at 5-6 p.m. and breakfast isn’t served until 7 a.m. Being so preoccupied with trying to make a few dollars detracts from the pursuit of programming, especially when a release date is more than 10 years away. Such a life slowly takes a psychological toll: always needing, always wondering if you’ll have money to shop.
Family members or other loved ones willing to put money on your books is a Godsend, and just how stead this flow is comes to be seen as a barometer of just how much they care about you. That may seem selfish, but it’s the bitter reality of the struggle. And the struggle is driven by the need to pay our captors for our incarceration.
Even when we’re released, it doesn’t stop. Another branch of the money tree just blooms – consisting of probation officers and their support staffs, along with all the NGOs that monitor and process us, waiting for us to commit another crime.
A little over a million individuals are incarcerated in federal or state prisons, with about 3 million under “community supervision.” And in addition to the prison and probation systems themselves, the Prison Policy Initiative estimates that about 4,000 companies profit in some way off mass incarceration.
While we tend to think of lawyers, judges and police as the main characters arrayed against the lawbreakers, now there are countless players all wanting a piece of the action – building careers that enable them to take care of their families, buy homes and go on vacations. And all this is possible because of the criminal, endlessly leaving and returning on a hamster’s wheel made possible by inadequate education, a lack of decent-paying jobs, no vision of what another future could be, and a steady supply of drugs and guns to ease the pain.
Recently, President-elect Donald Trump threw out a suggestion that the police be given a day to be really violent, and thus put a stop to crime. As long as people believe there is some kind of crime wave plaguing their cities and threatening their neighborhoods, the business of mass incarceration will thrive, and Trump knows it.
If the criminal-legal industry were demonetized and if rehabilitation truly became the mission of incarceration, I’d bet it would trigger a recession. The value of a postage stamp would probably plummet, since actual mail has declined as the internet has grown; inmates are the only ones buying stamps at a healthy rate.
The powers that be don’t want that kind of change, though, because millions of tax-paying Americans depend on crime to feed their families just as do drug dealers and bookies in prison. I guess it is and always will be all about the Benjamins!
