Stateville- the Penitentiary in Mass Society

by James B Jacobs

  The researcher needs to be sensitive to those issues with respect to which it is likely that he is being duped. Once these issues are identified he can proceed to investigate the interests perceived to be at stake. By recognizing the positions of various informants in the social organization it may be possible to check and recheck information so that ideology and interpretation can be analytically distinguished.

  During the summer of 1970 a melee was touched off at Stateville’s ball diamond. In the course of the melee several guards were seriously injured and the entire prison was consequently placed on “lockup” (inmates confined to their cells) for four months. In order to understand the impact of the gangs on prison social organization, I felt it crucial to reconstruct that event. But I was unsuccessful even after several months of interviewing. The staff held to the point of view that the fight between the two inmates which touched off the conflict had been “staged” by the gangs in order to draw line officers into a conflict.

  The gang leadership denied this, claiming that the participants in the fight were unaffiliated with gangs and that the administration used this insignificant incident as a pretext to lock up the entire prison and transfer gang leaders to a new super segregation unit (the Special Program Unit). Independent inmates were somewhat divided in their account of the incident. Some adhered to each of the above interpretations while others volunteered alternate versions. After checking and counterchecking stories for weeks, I was unable to satisfy myself either as to objective facts (e.g., were the two individuals members of gangs?) or as to whether informants actually believed the interpretations they were offering.

  The existence of the gangs within Illinois prisons was a sensitive issue for everyone. Staff members were committed to an anti-gang ideology and attributed all disorders at Stateville to their presence. Whoever I was and whatever use would be made of my research, the staff was interested that the gang leaders be defined as troublemakers and that the administrative decision to segregate the leadership at SPU be interpreted as necessary and legitimate.

  Gang leaders, of course, wanted to present their ideology and activities in the light they perceived would be most favorable to the researcher. Thus, in discussing their grievances they constantly stressed their commitment to social and political action programs on the streets and to progressive prison reform behind the walls. When questioned closely about racial assaults, extortions, and other illicit activities which most whites attributed to them, they explained that the gang leadership opposed all these activities, that accounts of them were highly exaggerated, and that they were powerless to police their soldiers when they could offer them nothing by way of administrative concessions for adherence to institutional rules.

  Several of the thoughtful “old cons” at Stateville were among my most cooperative informants. They readily grasped the purpose of the research and helped introduce me to veteran inmates who could provide perspective on the changes in prison life over the past several years. Even the old cons and independents, however, were not without vested interests in the setting. The old con power structure dominated by clerks, runners, and knowledgeable old-timers had been destroyed as the gangs solidified power. For the first time old cons no longer enjoyed a secure existence at Stateville. Not wishing to antagonize the powerful gang hierarchy and risk physical harm, these informants spoke cautiously about the gangs. Often there was implicit in their conversation disapproval of “gang-bangers” (young gang members) and their methods.

  Inmates who have had long experience in duping representatives of the establishment may provide information other than that which they believe to be true, even where vested interests are not perceived as threatened. Inmates may exaggerate simply for reasons of self-aggrandizement. This was true of some whites, who denigrated other factions. Informants from this small group stressed their “connections” (to organized crime) inside and outside the prison, boasting that they, not the gang leaders, could obtain steak and a bottle of scotch any time they desired.

  Furthermore, inmates may fabricate information in order merely to sustain an interaction that they find intrinsically satisfying. Giallambardo reports that on many occasions she had to put her research aside in order to provide a sounding board and emotional outlet for an inmate who had had a “bad day.” This was no less true at Stateville. Many inmates found conversing with me in private offices or around the prison yard a pleasant break from the boredom and stress of prison life. In the researcher they found a polite and sympathetic listener. One “wise” inmate suggested to me that various individuals sought out my company only in order to pass time with a young male.

  The known observer should never be insensitive to the impact he is having on the setting. Individuals may believe that there is something to gain by allying with the researcher. For example, being seen locked in serious conversation with the researcher served to validate and reinforce the status of leadership at the expense of potential and actual rivals. Few days passed at Stateville without at least one inmate flagging me down on the yard or interrupting an ongoing conversation in order to ask when I was coming to interview him.

  The deprivations and pains of imprisonment have been documented over the years. The gravity of the prison setting was dramatically impressed upon me at the initial meeting with the executive committee of the inmate council. My field notes from that meeting recount the gang leaders’ interpretation of the situation at Stateville.

  Since Professor Morris’ speech last spring things have been continuously deteriorating. Everything will be coming to a head soon because Revis is coming back to Stateville which means a return to the old order. He thinks of inmates as scum and is an admirer of the repressive system of Warden Joe Ragen. For weeks the guards have been telling inmates that the inmate council will be destroyed, that it is their turn to get even. Weapons are being stockpiled up front and the inmate leadership fears that an incident will be provoked or staged in order to carry out an Attica-like genocide. Over and over again the inmate leaders urged me to take them seriously and not to consider their fears paranoid. They are convinced that a riot is imminent and complain that they can no longer control the rank and file. All this was summed up by one gang leader who said, “The whole place could blow any day.”

  To be sure, prison is neither a pleasant place to live, to work, or to carry out fieldwork. It is depressing to enter the din of the cellhouse, to observe men shouting to you while gripping the bars of their steel cages. Despite one’s sincere concern for those inmates one knows personally as well as for inmates in general, it is scarcely possible not to be hounded by the feeling that one does not care enough. The daily return home to Chicago was a constant reminder that for the researcher prison is merely a field setting.

  According to Lofland, one of the gravest problems in maintaining the observer role through the fieldwork situation is the experience of marginality often felt by the observer. Although he is so close to the participants that he can empathize with their joys, pains, and boredoms, he is never really one of them. Very often during the experience it was pointed out to me that when the day ended I was going home, while the deprivations attending incarceration persist inexorably. Often inmates asked why I didn’t become an inmate for a week or two in order to experience the totality of their world. During such questioning it seemed to me that my self-conception was severely threatened. It has been said that the marginality of one’s position in the field often initiates introspection into the ethics of that position.6

  The known observer can never really belong. Perhaps this is best discussed in terms of role strain. When, because of faulty role enactment, moral qualms, or marginality, the gap between self and role widens, one’s role playing becomes more self-conscious and the performance consequently more problematic. The individual increasingly feels more frustrated and is more likely to withdraw from the scene to repatch the damaged role. This is a tactic I found necessary throughout the research.

  As one wanders about the prison pu
rsuing research hypotheses and preparing field notes, one cannot help but wonder if this is not the part of the voyeur. Consistently deflecting comments from complaints and accounts of suffering in order to steer conversation toward tentative hypotheses, one sometimes questions whether this type of research should be done at all.

  I think the best answer is that such research must be continued. Not only is the prison an important setting in which to study individual and group behavior, but prisons too long have been isolated from the scrutiny of neutral observers. Even where the researcher’s avowed purpose is not prison reform, it is important that prisons be open to social scientists who can bear witness to what occurs within. Observing the prison disciplinary committee or pursuing administrative channels to check out inmate grievances, I found the staff anxious to follow written procedure and due process. The presence of outside observers may have the desirable effect of encouraging all actors within the setting to adhere to the rules.

  It might well be argued that all field researchers have some moral debt to the individuals who have made their research possible. These obligations can perhaps be fulfilled through individual reciprocities (e.g., parole recommendations, help in finding employment) or through more diffuse contributions. Giallambardo reports that she told inmates at Alderson that, though her research could not be expected to help them personally, it was aimed at helping “women in trouble everywhere.”

  This may be the consequence if those of us who have had the extraordinary opportunity to look at life behind the walls have the courage and desire to make known our feelings as well as our more technical research. Academics to date have played a not unimportant role in the prison reform movement, and that role should become more significant in the future.

  Appendix 2

  Tables

  TABLE 1

  Population of Stateville Penitentiary, 1919–73

  The count was arrived at by averaging the daily counts for thirty random days in each year. No figures were available for the years not included.

  TABLE 2

  Escapes from Stateville/Joliet Complex, 1929–75

  TABLE 3

  Civil Suits Filed Against Stateville/Joliet Administration, 1954–75

  *No data available for 1955.

  TABLE 4

  Transfers from Stateville/Joliet Complex to Menard Psychiatric Division, 1954–72

  aFrank Pate becomes warden; Ragen is director.

  bMenard’s Ross Randolph replaces Ragen as director.

  cJohn Twomey becomes warden; Peter Bensinger is director.

  TABLE 5

  Appointments and Separations for Stateville/Joliet Complex, 1960–74

  TABLE 6

  Approximate Total Sales of All Prison Industries 1948–72

  Figures are correct to the nearest fifty thousand.

  TABLE 7

  Inmate Turnover for Stateville/Joliet Complex, 1944–73

  TABLE 8

  Prison Racial Composition for Stateville/Joliet Complex, 1953–74

  aNote that Latinos are carried as white, which would not be consistent with the inmates’ definition of Latinos as a separate race. When given the option of considering themselves black or white, the Latinos at Stateville invariably prefer to be identified with the blacks. It should be pointed out that the whites are probably somewhat underrepresented at Stateville and Diagnostic Depot and overrepresented at Joliet and the Honor Farm.

  bStateville only.

  TABLE 9

  Assaults on Officers and Direct Challenges to Authority, 1946–70

  TABLE 10

  Inmates under Special Confinement, 1941–73

  TABLE 11

  Average Time Served in Isolation, 1946–72

  TABLE 12

  Offenses Resulting in Inmates’ Serving Isolation Time, 1946–70

  See chapter 5, note 25, for details of the samples.

  TABLE 13

  Age at Admission to Stateville, 1934–73 (by Percentage)

  TABLE 14

  Offenses Committed by Inmates Admitted to Joliet Diagnostic Depot, 1942–73 (by Percentage)

  TABLE 15

  Common Subcategories of Robbery, Murder, and Sex Offenses

  TABLE 16

  Admissions by County, 1955–73 (by Percentage)

  TABLE 17

  Injuries to Stateville/Joliet Employees Due to Inmate Aggression, 1966–74

  The data are taken from accident reports and include only those “accidents” resulting from conflict with inmates.

  TABLE 18

  Appointment of Black Guards, 1943–74

  TABLE 19

  Absenteeism of Guards

  Notes

  Introduction

  1. Charles Perrow points to an “institutional school of organizational analysis” whose three main contributions are: (1) emphasis upon organization as a whole; (2) suggestion of the real possibility that at least some organizations do take on a life of their own, irrespective of the desires of those presumably in control; and (3) emphasis upon the environment. For Perrow the institutional school is noteworthy for its attention to organizational history. Sociologists contributing to the development of this perspective have shown that organizational structures and decision making are constrained by previous policies, decisions, and institutionalization of values as well as by drift and value displacement. The emphasis upon a holistic and organic approach to the study of organization has indicated that, methodologically, “the forte of the institutional school is the carefully documented case study.” Charles Perrow, Complex Organizations (Chicago: Scott, Foresman, and Company, 1972).

  2. Morris Janowitz, The Professional Soldier (New York: Free Press, 1960; 2d ed., 1971).

  3. Philip Selznick, T. V. A. and the Grass Roots (New York: Harper and Row, 1966).

  4. George Rusche and Otto Kirchheimer, Punishment and Social Structure (New York: Columbia University Press, 1939).

  5. David Rothman, The Discovery of the Asylum: Social Order and Disorder in the Republic (Boston: Little, Brown, 1971).

  6. Donald Clemmer, The Prison Community (New York: Rinehart, 1958).

  7. Ibid., p. xi.

  8. Gresham Sykes, The Society of Captives (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1958; repr. New York: Atteneur, 1966), p. 8.

  9. Richard McCleery, “Communication Systems as Bases of Systems of Authority and Power,” in Richard A. Cloward et al., Theoretical Studies in Social Organization of the Prison (New York: Social Science Research Council, 1960).

  10. David Street, Robert Vinter, and Charles Perrow, Organization for Treatment (New York: Free Press, 1966).

  11. John Irwin, The Felon (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1970); Eric Wright, The Politics of Punishment (New York: Harper and Row, 1973); Theodore Davidson, Chicano Prisoners: The Key to San Quentin (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1974).

  12. Leo Carroll, Hacks, Blacks, and Cons (Lexington, Mass.: D. C. Heath and Company, 1974), p. 10.

  13. Edward Shils, The Logic of Personal Knowledge (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1961); repr. in Selected Essays of Edward Shils (University of Chicago, Department of Sociology, n.d.).

  14. Edward Shils, “The Theory of Mass Society,” Diogenes 39 (1962); repr. in Center and Periphery: Essays in Macrosociology (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1975).

  15. Ibid., p. 99 (Chicago ed.).

  16. Lou Harris and Associates, The Public Looks at Crime and Corrections (Washington: Joint Commission on Correctional Manpower and Training, 1968).

  17. William S. Mathias, “Higher Education and the Police,” in Arthur Niederhoffer and Abraham Blumberg, The Ambivalent Force (New York: Dryden Press, 1976), pp. 377–84.

  18. Ruffin v. Commonwealth 62 Va. (21 Gratt.) 490, 796 (1971); Price v. Johnson 334 U.S. 266 (1948).

  Chapter 1

  1. For an exhaustive discussion of the reform efforts responsible for the Juvenile Court, see Anthony Platt, The Child Savers (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1969).


  2. Illinois Prison Inquiry Commission, The Prison System in Illinois (Springfield, 1937), p. 591.

  3. Bentham wrote two essays on the panopticon: “Panopticon: or the Inspection-House” (1791), and “Panopticon vs. New South Wales” (1802), in The Works of Jeremy Bentham, ed. John Bowering (Edinburgh: William Tait, 1838–43), vol. 4, pp. 37–172, 173–248.

  4. In practice the panopticon did not function so ideally. Warden Ragen was fond of pointing out that the design which allowed the tower guard in each cell house to see into the cells also permitted the inmates to see when the guard’s back was turned.

  5. In Fifty Year History of the Division of the Criminologist (Springfield: State of Illinois, 1968), p. 10, we read: “The social approval, without which progressive legislation in corrections could not have become operative, seems to have had impetus during the early decades of the century in a number of interrelated conditions. One important condition was an equitable public opinion, which at the time seems to have regarded offenders of the law as persons who were more in need of treatment and help than severe punishment. This condition may have had reference to the rising humanitarianism and nationalism of a people who were at war, as it frequently is contended that a state of war welds a nation together, creating sympathy for fellow nationals and unity toward opponents. So, as the first World War was raging at the time, the legislation creating the Division became law, criminals were regarded with less revengeful feeling insofar as the popular feeling was directed towards the Central Powers who were, we thought, menacing democracy.”