“The response of government and Corrections to the AMC public scandal has been silence, an adroit move because there are no votes in prison reform and a heap of trouble if an independent spotlight is shone on the mess,” writes HUGH SELBY. 

“You did the crime, now do the time” is the usual response when thinking about people who are in prison.

But how prisoners do that time drives both their futures and ours. 

Rehabilitated prisoners not only stay out of jail, they contribute to our community.

Non-rehabilitated prisoners re-offend and cost over $500 a day to feed and board in the ACT’s prison, the Alexander Maconochie Centre (AMC).

The AMC is a prisoner warehouse. It does nothing to rehabilitate the prisoners.

Instead, it is a hotbed of corruption with a thriving drug and contraband trade.

The profiteers are some staff, some prisoners and outside criminal groups.

This reality is beyond debate. Since late last year multiple sources have confirmed how the AMC is mismanaged, and for whose benefit (assuredly not the prisoners, nor ours). 

Corrections management applies the law in a haphazard manner and, it seems, without proper attention to the stated aims of the corrections law.

The response of government and Corrections to this much publicised public scandal has been silence, an adroit move because there are no votes in prison reform and a heap of trouble if an independent spotlight, such as an inquiry, is shone upon the mess.

The result of such an inquiry would be Corrections leadership changes, political damage, compensation claims by present and former prisoners, and criminal charges against staff and prisoners found to have been dealing in unlawful products.

A new management could introduce rehabilitation, a move that would benefit the prisoners and those staff seeking a job which gave them job satisfaction.

Absent a formal inquiry, the government should hand over the AMC to a corporate prison management. This would be to the benefit of everyone, save the corrupt. For no more money much could be achieved. 

When incompetence and indifference rule

Meanwhile, here are daily life examples of a broken system.

Disappearing prisoner mail: prisoners have repeatedly requested a “mail registry” so that each outgoing mail item is recorded. 

Absent such a system mail goes missing. For example, a prisoner gave two contracts (sent separately) addressed to a law firm to two trusted officers. The law firm received neither contract.

Theft of money from prisoner’s account: prisoners are allowed to spend some money within AMC each week. One way to do that is to complete a form that goes to Detainee Finance which will make a withdrawal from the prisoner’s private bank account and credit that amount to his/her AMC internal account. 

After covid, one prisoner discovered that there were withdrawals from his private account for more than $10,000 (which was way above what he could authorise for his spending within the AMC).

The AFP was called in. The prisoner was interviewed and provided the necessary bank statements. Thereafter, all the money was repaid into his bank account. However, he was never given any explanation as to how this happened, or why it was not “picked up” earlier. Nor was he ever asked to give evidence – which suggests that no criminal case was pursued.

Given further information by another prisoner, he attempted to email that to the AFP; however, AMC staff stopped that email going to the AFP.

A proper bed is too much trouble: the prisoner, past retirement age, Vietnam veteran, 1.95 metres tall, bad back. The army provided him with a suitable bed. The AMC never made that effort. He had to put a chair and a pillow at the end of his bed for six years. The Corrections Management Act, section 43 states: “The director-general must ensure that (a) detainees have sleeping places, with bed and bedding, suitable for reasonable privacy and comfort…”

You eat what we serve: A retiree-aged prisoner came into AMC with known dietary needs. These were at first recognised and he was allowed to cook for himself. All good. Then that cooking space was re-allocated and he was required to eat the mass food with consequent health failings. So they knew, but they didn’t care. 

Educational opportunities: the AMC sometimes has an education team to help prisoners do online courses, but then it doesn’t have anybody to do that job, sometimes for a long time.

Officers and their union, the CPSU: the officers elect delegates who are supposed to work with the CPSU full-time paid organiser to advance officer interests. But it doesn’t seem to work like that. Rather the ties between management and the union seem to be stronger than the ties between the officers and the union. Those delegates get push back instead of help. 

Go private

That raises an interesting possibility. If the rank and file officers would be better treated and have more interesting jobs under a private prison operator then both inmates and prison officers would agree: better a private prison operator than what we have now.

Our daily cost per prisoner is the highest in Australia. For that money let’s get value.

Alas, our politicians lack the courage and the moral compass to do what is right, namely to clean up the AMC so that we can be proud, instead of ashamed.

Author Hugh Selby is a CityNews columnist, principally focused on legal affairs. His free podcasts on “Witness Essentials” and “Advocacy in court: preparation and performance” can be heard on the best known podcast sites.