Norway Proves That Treating Prison Inmates As Human Beings Actually Works

BASTOY ISLAND, Norway ― “Prison?” I asked the two deckhands, after a train carried me to the ferry.

“Yes,” said one of the men, rubbing his hands together for warmth. He looked me up and down with arrogant blue eyes. “But sorry, it is only for men.” He laughed. “Come, come, you’re in the right place.”

I looked up at the masthead and noticed that it was crowned by a dead, stuffed swan.

“We found it frozen in a block of ice, years ago,” said the other deckhand. He wore a black ski hat and had a wizened, kindly face.

“It’s creepy-looking,” I said.

“You think so? Our mascot. You are afraid of criminals?” he suddenly asked. Before I could answer, “We are criminals.” I looked into his eyes; they were laughing. Was he kidding?

“Really, we are. Criminals. Are you afraid?”

“Why would I be?” I shrugged. I still wasn’t sure if he was joking.

“I am Wiggo,” he said, offering a handshake. He was indeed a prisoner, serving a 21-year sentence, the maximum in Norway, but he’ll likely be out next year.

Cato, the other deckhand, was serving one and a half years for intention to commit a criminal act, though he insisted he’s innocent. He and Wiggo brought me to a vestibule to show me their daily schedule, posted on the wall.

“We work the 6-to-noon shift,” Cato said. “Then we go back to the prison and relax or exercise. Come, you want to meet the captain? He is not a prisoner. The only one who isn’t, on this boat.”

Upstairs, the sturdy captain shook my hand.

“You talking to those criminals?” he said, with a laugh. I was lapping up this playful mockery of the scary-criminals mentality. There was clearly nothing to be afraid of here, and everyone seemed to know it.

It’s a total erasure of boundaries between ‘us’ and ‘them.’
As the boat set sail, I spied Bastoy, a cluster of gangly pine trees in a gray sea stretching toward a gray sky. Inside the boat’s small seating area, Cato sat down next to me and turned on the TV, flipping to the History Channel.

“Are you on Facebook?” he asked.

“You’re allowed Facebook? And internet?” I countered.

“Not while over there.” He pointed to the pine trees. “But yes, when we are on home leave.” I jotted down my name on a slip of paper. For the first time since my arrival, a thin line of blue sky appeared overhead.
“They say it is a summer camp, Bastoy,” said Wiggo, as I left the cabin to disembark. He was almost reprimanding me. “You will maybe think so. But no, it is prison. Trust me. We have our life stopped. Frozen.”

I pointed to the swan. “Like your mascot. Frozen. Even on a beautiful island.”

HoratioTarr wrote:This kind of thing doesn't work on all people.

eddie wrote:

HoratioTarr wrote:This kind of thing doesn't work on all people.

What do you think that? Out of curiosity.

Original Quill wrote:I think you are missing the proper equivalency.  The idea is not that it is a cure.  The idea is that you don't create a criminal environment, which then turns into or creates criminal tendencies.

Tommy Monk wrote:We already have 'open prisons' here in uk...

HoratioTarr wrote:

eddie wrote:

HoratioTarr wrote:This kind of thing doesn't work on all people.

What do you think that? Out of curiosity.

I think I've lost count of the times I've read about killers who are given lenient sentences then let out to kill again.   I'm not saying be brutal to those in prison, but never assume that being kind to them 'cures' or reforms their criminal tendencies.

Original Quill wrote:I think you are missing the proper equivalency.  The idea is not that it is a cure.  The idea is that you don't create a criminal environment, which then turns into or creates criminal tendencies.

WhoseYourWolfie wrote:

I've known a couple of people over the years who were sentenced to "weekend detention", over two or three years...

One was a motor mechanic who had assisted a couple of car thieves in re-badging cars; while another had been caught with a quantity of drugs, without actually being a regular dealer..

Both of them received weekend detention because they also had full time jobs at the time, hadn't actually hurt anyone dorectly, and probably were considered to have a low chance of re-offending.

Twelve months of weekend detention would be 104 days of confinement, which equates to nearly 15 weeks if served outright --  or roughly three-and-a-half months --  to put things in context..

Tommy Monk wrote:

That is not justification for lenient sentences...