By Bill Littlefield

Some of The Prison Industry‘s most devastating material appears in the section of the book exposing the lack of acceptable health care in jails and prisons.

The Prison Industry: How It Works and Who Profits, by Bianca Tylek and Worth Rises. The New Press, 244 pages, $20.99

The Prison Industry presents a thoroughly researched and convincing indictment of a system built on profit and corruption. Bianca Tylek and her colleagues at Worth Rises have studied the particulars of everything from the construction of prisons and the provision of food and services to incarcerated individuals to the injustices inherent in bail and probation systems that victimize formerly incarcerated individuals. It’s not surprising that those most frequently and seriously damaged are people of color and people disadvantaged by poverty.

Early in the book, the authors illustrate the irrationality of the prison industry’s operations. They point out that between 2009 and 2019, when that jail population was declining by about 40,000 people across the country, the industry was increasing the number of beds in its prisons by more than 86,000. Plans for the construction of jail facilities promise jobs in communities where unemployment is high, reinforced by the ranting of politicians who’ve learned the benefits of presenting themselves as “tough on crime.” It pays to stoke fears among their constituents, even when crime is decreasing. The fairly small number of corporations responsible for building jail and prison facilities are spectacularly profitable, and the complaints of the folks who live in those facilities are rarely acknowledged. These companies proclaim that the new prisons and jails are much more humane than the buildings they’re replacing or renovating, but, as The Prison Industry points out, “a well-designed, humane prison is a perverse fallacy.”

Though the state and federal governments are responsible for the operation of the jails and prisons throughout the country, private contractors have become involved in the daily lives of incarcerated people to an extraordinary extent. Private food services provide meals under a system that incentivizes them to spend as little as possible as they collect fees calculated by the number of meals served. Private transportation companies move prisoners from one state to another and, in some cases, out of the country, without adequate supervision. As a result, incarcerated men and women in handcuffs and ankle restraints sometimes spend hours, even days, in cramped, unventilated vans or buses. Private bail organizations charge ruinous rates to people who have not been convicted of anything. State prison officials contract with for-profit companies to supply phone and other communication services to incarcerated individuals; these arrangements end up funneling money meant for individuals into accounts used to buy equipment to control the prison population.

Author Bianca Tylek. Photo: The New Press

Some of The Prison Industry’s most devastating material appears in the section of the book exposing the lack of acceptable health care in jails and prisons. As Tylek and her colleagues point out, “More than 50% of all those in prison or jail have some mental health need,” and “an estimated 65% of people in prison suffer from alcohol or drug dependency.” But, despite the fact that in 1976 the Supreme Court established the constitutional right to health care for incarcerated people, psychiatric services for those suffering from mental and dependence illnesses are, at best, inadequate. In many cases these services are contracted out to for-profit corporations, which “critically exacerbates the harm incarcerated people suffer as correctional health care providers measure the cost of a person’s health and well-being against the cost to their bottom line.” Like the food providers, the health care providers are “incentivized to cut costs as much as possible to pocket what they do not spend.”

The Prison Industry makes its case, but it is dry because of its heavy reliance on statistics. Still, in each chapter there is also at least one powerful, first-person story from someone victimized by the various indignities and crimes chronicled in its pages.

In a short, but powerful, concluding section, the authors point out that we are all complicit in the abuse and corruption described in the book. “Our tax dollars are funding the prison industry and the harm it causes. Our personal savings sit with banks that provide billions in financing to it.” Bianca Tylek and her colleagues at Worth Rises hope that their catalogue of abuses and injustices — some of them fatal — support a movement that’s determined to work toward the abolishment of prisons and the establishment of  a more just and equitable society.

Bill Littlefield volunteers with the Emerson Prison Initiative. His most recent novel is Mercy (Black Rose Writing).