Abstract
The literature on probation supervision has paid significant attention to prisoner reintegration into society. Many of these studies are based on retrospective samples of ex-prisoners as their primary analytical focus. Research studies on the early transitions from prison to the community have predominantly examined men's experiences. This article explores the experiences of a small group of men and women serving their sentences in the community while under probation supervision. Drawing on interview extracts, it is argued that probation practices hinder, rather than support, post-release necessities for men and women seeking to reintegrate into society. The article highlights the implications for future research on probation supervision and re-entry.
Introduction
Studies of the impact of probation supervision on prisoner re-entry have produced important findings to advance criminological knowledge (Canton, 2022; Fernando, 2021; King, 2013; McNeill and Graham, 2019). Despite this growing body of scholarship, there remains limited research on the immediate post-release challenges facing prisoners while under probation supervision. These early transitions into the community present a range of obstacles for many people leaving prison. This article is based on a study of a small group of men and women serving their sentences in the community. Drawing on interviews with 18 people under probation supervision, this article argues that probation practices hinder, rather than support, men's and women's attempts to reintegrate into society.
In building this case, the article is broadly split into two parts. The first part explores prisoners’ experiences of probation supervision. It is illustrated how enforced restrictions have propelled individuals to significantly re-adjust their way of living in order to restore a sense of normality. The second part pays specific attention to the housing support offered by probation in relation to securing accommodation and the associated impact on prisoner re-entry. Findings demonstrate the shortcomings of housing provision in facilitating the requirements for prisoners most in need of support to be able to reintegrate into society. The concluding discussion examines the key implications of this study for future research on probation supervision and re-entry.
Probation supervision
The primary functions of the probation service in England and Wales are to provide offender supervision in the community, while ensuring safeguards are in place to protect public life. The aims of the probation service are documented in official governmental guidelines which are outlined in the following statement: ‘Our priority is to protect the public by the effective rehabilitation of offenders, by reducing the causes which contribute to offending and enabling offenders to turn their lives around’ (HM Prison and Probation Service, 2023: 1)
The role of community provision in facilitating re-entry has been well documented. There has been a growing body of literature exploring the effects of probation supervision on re-entry outcomes and rehabilitative aspirations both in the United Kingdom and elsewhere (Durnescu, 2011; Fernando, 2021; King, 2013). Scholars have advocated more prospective-oriented accounts of probation practices and supervision, focusing on individual strengths as opposed to deficits from the past (Dealey, 2018; King, 2014; Maruna et al., 2004). The risk-need-responsivity (RNR) model has become the dominant framework in the delivery of offender assessment and treatment due to its effects on reducing reoffending. However, research illustrates that the focus mostly underpinning probation officers’ individual assessments adhere to systemic rules, licence conditions, and risk management rather than engaging in constructive processes of social and psychological change (Canton, 2022; Tidmarsh, 2020; Ward and Maruna, 2007). Alternative models of probation service, for example, through the good lives model (GLM), promote tangible goals that are perceived as valuable and necessary to an individual's personal life (Burnett and Maruna, 2006; Maruna and Lebel, 2002; McNeill, 2016; Ward, 2002). The development of strength-based approaches to probation has contributed to the relatively under-explored concerns associated with the early transitions from prison to the community (Healy, 2010; King, 2013).
More recently, studies have sought to explore the impact of probation supervision on processes of re-entry in an international context. In Fernando's (2021) comparative study of 40 English and French men, the English participants described their experiences of probation supervision as passive and lacking resources to address individual concerns. Durnescu's (2011) characterisation of probation restrictions highlights the individual deprivations and unavoidable effects experienced under probation supervision: ‘deprivation of autonomy’, ‘pain of reorganising the daily routine’, ‘deprivation of time’ and ‘pain of revisiting the offence’ (539). These ‘pains of probation’ shed light on the wide-ranging burdens and obstacles facing individual rehabilitation. Other studies have drawn attention to the effectiveness of probation supervision and practices. A common finding suggests that positive change and improvement in processes of re-entry stems from an individual's desire and motivation to initiate change rather than resulting from interventions and support received directly from probation (Farrall, 2002; McCulloch, 2005). King's (2013) study found that probation had an ‘impact on the early development of new, pro-social identities’ (147), however, it tended to have less of a positive impact in supporting people with their specific social and personal issues. These findings suggest that, while probation serves to facilitate re-entry, its practices and supervision, place individuals in positions that have implications for their lives. Building on this literature, this article argues that, despite the rehabilitative intentions of the probation service, probation practices hinder rather than support men's and women's early transitions from prison to the community.
Methodology
This research is based on a qualitative study of prisoners’ lived experiences as they transition from prison to the community. The overarching aim of the project was to develop an understanding of the relationship between the internal aspects of prison life (i.e., employment) and post-imprisonment outcomes. Furthermore, it intended to provide a gendered account of prisoners’ experiences of re-entry.
Prior to data collection, ethical approval was sought and granted by the relevant university ethics committees. Access was approved through initial discussions with the prison Governors, who were content to host the research, and a subsequent application to His Majesty's Prison and Probation Service (HMPPS) National Research Committee (NRC). Participants were approached in two category D open prisons with support of a custodial manager and a case administrator as the central point of contact. People within 6 months of their release dates were identified as eligible to participate in the study. During the participant recruitment process, I explained the purpose and objectives of the study to participants. One implication of identifying participants through prison staff is the assumption of who they classify as suitable to participate in research activities. To reduce potential sample bias, a stratified purposive sampling approach (Patton, 2014; Ritchie et al., 2013) was used to draw a representative sample from each establishment. This sampling strategy includes a range of experiences within the criminal justice system from shorter sentences for cruelty and indecent exposure to longer sentences for attempted murder. Sentence length ranged from 3 to 19 years. The men were serving an average sentence of 12 years compared to five and a half years for women. Participants served the first half of their sentence in prison and the remainder in the community on licence conditions. In addition to satisfying the standard licence conditions, which is a requirement for all post-release supervision, some participants were given additional licence conditions relating to their specific offence. Some of these conditions included electronic monitoring and participation in a programme or set of activities.
Two interview waves were completed with a small group of men and women. The first interview took place inside prison, just before participants, were released. Twenty-seven participants were interviewed, consisting of 18 men and 9 women. The second interview was conducted with the same group of people 3 months post-release. Eighteen participants were interviewed in the community, which included 11 men and 7 women. This article draws on material from the second interview wave, which was conducted between July 2022 and February 2023. A subset of the data has therefore been applied, focusing on prisoners’ experiences of re-entry while under probation supervision.
From the outset of fieldwork, participants were notified that post-release interviews would be conducted in a location that suited them, at their convenience. Interviews took place in various community settings across England, often close to where participants resided. Where face-to-face interviews were not possible, these were conducted on the telephone. There were missing contact details for three participants. To obtain their contact information, probation officer details were provided by the custodial manager in each prison. I liaised with probation officers to gain consent for participant contact information to be shared. Background context to the study was provided in these interactions with probation officers to expedite response time. As a result, this part of the fieldwork caused minimal disruption to the data collection process. Interview questions were primarily open-ended to allow participants to describe narratives on their own terms. All interviews were captured using an audio recording device and then transcribed verbatim. Data analysis followed a thematic approach as key themes and patterns were identified within the data (Braun and Clarke, 2006). Pseudonyms have been used throughout this article to safeguard prisoners’ identities.
Findings
The experiences of probation supervision
The transition from prison to the community presented numerous obstacles for people attempting to restore a sense of normality. The ability to live a normal life as experienced prior to imprisonment was described as burdensome while under the confines of probation supervision: Probation say they want us to live a normal life. A normal life is going on holiday with your wife and children. Instead, probation will say just go on holiday here. But that's not reality. Reality is when my child goes back to school and all their friends are saying we’ve been to Disney Land and then your kid turns around and says why can’t we go dad? (Jason)
Probation restrictions not only impacted Jason's lifestyle choices but carried a spill-over effect to the family. Travelling abroad on holiday and being able to accommodate family wishes were dictated by licence conditions. Travelling was strictly reduced to the United Kingdom. Explaining the reasons why going on holiday was not possible created additional pains and frustrations. The boundaries were often blurred as participants attempted to experience the full benefits of society and sought to exercise decisions autonomously. In Jason's words, ‘if your parents’ address is abroad, you can say your residential address is over there […] If I want to buy a car for £30k I would have to buy it in the business and say it's a company car because of my crime’. Restrictions induced participants to constantly negotiate their actions and adjust their everyday routines to satisfy the licence conditions imposed on them. Navigating these conditions resulted in participants trying to identify alternative avenues to fulfil personal goals and commitments, while conforming to sentencing terms to avoid being recalled to prison. In this instance, the negatively perceived effects of living under restrictions were overturned to re-establish aspects of social and personal life. As Jason's narrative demonstrates, being under close supervision supplanted all the routine elements of what would be indicative of a normal life. Compliance was, however, not always instrumentally driven to experience the typical opportunities that society would normally offer. For two participants, in particular, the ‘tight’ restrictions induced total compliance with licence conditions: On my licence, it says I can’t be around children. Because of my offence I wouldn’t be able to work in a school, even as a cleaner […] I won’t be able to work with disabled adults because they’re classed as vulnerable, even though they’re over the age of 18. It's going to be very hard for me to get a job because wherever it may be there is always a chance of kids being there and my licence just won’t allow it because of my offence. (Rebecca)
Participants who had committed a specific offence were given additional licence conditions. In addition to the standard licence conditions for all men and women under probation supervision, these offence-specific conditions prevented people, like Rebecca, to re-assert their position as participating members of society. Such conditions were not always aligned with the nature of the offence but also took into account lifestyle activities prior to imprisonment: I’m not allowed to drink at all, not even on Christmas with my family […] I’m not even allowed to have mouthwash which has alcohol in it. The sobriety tag would pick it up. Because I owned a pub, they thought I must be alcohol dependent so they put all this on my licence, no alcohol […] I’m not allowed to see anybody under 18 unless I let them know. I’m not in for a child offence. They just want to monitor since I have grandchildren, nieces, and nephews. It says on their notes high risk to ex-partner. But everything else is low risk, to the public, to children. All of a sudden, I'm a risk to everybody. (Charlie)
Such restrictions were all-encompassing in their scope and included a range of unreasonable conditions that participants had to comply with or risk the consequences of being recalled to prison. In these examples, finding an alternative pathway around the licence conditions was not a viable, or indeed practical, course of action. For these participants, restrictions therefore significantly impacted their ability to transition and reintegrate back into the community. A new way of residing under total surveillance superseded life prior to imprisonment: I’m trying to get back a bit of what I’ve forgotten and make plans for the future. And you think hold on, I’ve still got these restrictions and dealing with probation but I’ve done my time. You’re trying to have a clean slate and start a new chapter but dealing with all these obstacles. I’m scared every single day. What if somebody calls you in? It's a split-second decision, could be a miss judgement or being late to a probation call or meeting. I’m thinking how am I going to eventually get out of it all. (Mohammed)
The people I spoke to who were on licence sought to rebuild their lives and plan for their future (Maruna, 2001). Their fear of breaching their conditions, however, left many living ‘on edge.’ They described regulating their behaviour to minimise the risk of being sent back to prison. The difficulties of moving away from a criminal past to a law-abiding citizen were intensified by the debilitating and totalising tendencies of the probation system. Participating in daily routines was under constant monitoring from probation officers. Such surveillance practices, or what Foucault (1991: 20) describes as ‘governmentality’, are concerned with close scrutiny of individual behaviour and the ‘conduct of conduct’ (see also Garland, 2001). In these examples, the nexus between penal power and the state transfers from the prison to the community. The limits to freedom were encapsulated under probation supervision: You don’t know what situation you will get into so I don’t do anything to jeapordise my freedom […] I’m just a lot more wary when it comes to probation because you don’t want to be put in a situation for no reason. Because at the end of the day I’m going to suffer. I’m always thinking twice before I do something just so I never get put in that situation. (Abdul)
Participants meticulously exercised behaviour to avoid hindering their position in society. The stakes were increasingly fragile for those who were trying to normalise their life. Daily activities and associated decisions were therefore more often consciously observed than prior to imprisonment. The possibility of freedom was often envisaged as only achievable at the end of the licence: ‘It doesn’t feel like freedom because you still have to be done with your sentence plan […] When I saw my mum after 5 years, she said why don’t you look happy? It's because I still don’t know where exactly I stand’ (Abdul). As documented in this quotation, participants felt they were ‘in limbo’, often struggling to come to terms with the conditions of their licence. Rather than being granted complete autonomy to participate in everyday life, probation was a stark reminder that a sentence was still in place. For those in full-time employment, probation supervision provided an additional layer of strain and inconvenience: The only real effect probation has is stress. The time I need to go and see them is usually around 5pm but the thing is I can’t say to my work where I’m actually going if I leave at that time. It worries me because what if someone phones me from work while I’m on my way to probation. What am I supposed to say? I can’t do it and then they’ll ask why. That adds anxiety. (Nina)
For Nina, probation appointments interfered with contracted working hours. The impact of probation supervision on employment was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, tensions arose due to the perceived negative repercussions of late or missed probation appointments. On the other hand, the fear of not being able to complete assigned tasks was a constant worry for participants in regular employment. The associated stigma attached to a ‘serving prisoner’ exacerbated feelings of apprehension: ‘I still worry about revealing my sentence because that might affect my job. Will I get a bad reference? How will other people see me?’ (Nina). The perceived negative connotations of being a prisoner extended beyond institutional walls. There was a concern about what others would do, who they would tell about the crime, and how they would be subsequently perceived in the eyes of others. Offence history was intentionally concealed from social and private affairs. This was in part to reduce the effect of the increasingly ‘sticky’ criminal labelling in society (Uggen and Blahnik, 2016), where criminal histories are more readily available through employer background checks and publicly accessible information.
Many of the people interviewed for this study highlighted the emphasis on risk-centred approaches to their supervision: Probation is not about rehabilitation and managing your transition into the community. Probation is just about risk assessment. That's it. What risk am I going to be? The algorithm that they use to deliver point scoring has taken away all the human relations aspect of the job. They are only concerned about typing in information. (Elias)
I’ve done four sessions in the last few months since I’ve been out on happy emotions. I’ve still got a few more to do because my probation officer has to put me on something. It's all just to show probation that you’re doing something and that you’re being monitored. (Fiona)
Probation supervision was perceived as a ‘tick box’ exercise based on the monitoring of risk and the application of standardised instruments to measure threat levels to society. This method of intervention delivery contrasts with the development of social relationships and personal growth, which aims to restore people as contributing members of society. The French men in Fernando's (2021) study recognised and acknowledged that their probation officers performed specific tasks to support their reintegration. I, however, found that the organisational parameters of the probation service implicated individual requirements, as corporate objectives trumped individual welfare needs. This discrepancy between personal need and institutional support echoes Halsey's (2016) findings in his longitudinal study of re-entry among young male offenders in South Australia. Aspirations to live a law-abiding lifestyle and abstain from criminal activity were contested by the interventions and resources employed by social control agencies to effectively manage and regulate the ‘risk’ of reoffending. Like Halsey's parolees, participants were highly managed on release with constant surveillance and monitoring. Probation supervision was not specifically geared to support individual need but instead focused on applying standardised risk assessments: I had to do a risk assessment. The officer said to me so tell me about how this all started. I said to her stop a minute, you’re asking me to bring something up from seven years ago that I’ve put to bed a long time ago. It's irrelevant […] Another risk assessment they asked me about my two oldest children who are 19 and 21. Officer asks what are your children's names so I gave him the youngest child's name. He said he needs the two oldest children's names to forward it to social services. I said they’ve got nothing to do with social services because they’re 19 and 21. Social services have never once contacted me so it's another ridiculous thing they ask from you. (Jason)
Appointments with probation officers prompted prisoners to recall past events. Such practices were commonly employed in order to develop appropriate interventions to reduce reoffending and risk level to the community. Risk management superseded rehabilitative efforts. This kind of offence-driven approach to supervision negated emphasis on future projections or individual aspirations. Initial probation conversations were predominantly retrospective in nature and focused on historical social problems rather than encouraging participants to engage in purposeful activity. Strength-based interventions are instead centred on encouraging prisoners to abstain from their criminal pasts and plan for a positive future (Maruna et al., 2004; McNeill, 2016). Furthermore, Jason's narrative highlights how social control institutions can extend the boundaries of punishment. A sense of ‘omniopticism’ (Munn, 2011: 238) meant that participants, while attempting to reconstruct their lives, were under close watch by multiple agencies simultaneously, contributing to an invasion of all aspects of personal life and the intensification of ‘transcarceral control’ (see Segrave and Carlton, 2013). This finding echoes elements of the deprivation of private life identified in Durnescu's (2011) Romanian study of the pains of probation, which highlighted the increased scrutiny and interrogation of private and family affairs, particularly in the initial supervisions with probation officers.
One of the fundamental aims of the probation service is to help facilitate reintegration through effective rehabilitation and supervision in the community. Jason's account points to the stark reality that many people leaving prison will inevitably face when trying to reintegrate into society. Put simply, there is no straightforward path to re-entry. Transitioning from prison to the community presents many barriers which can impact social inclusion and successful reintegration (see Shapland and Bottoms, 2011). While studies have shown that an optimistic outlook of life beyond prison, supported by post-release support structures, can have an indirect positive effect in alleviating the pains of re-entry, abstinence from crime is more unlikely when the obstacles people face on release are perceived as insurmountable (Lebel et al., 2008). The most significant challenge for the participants interviewed in this study was the ability to locate and secure housing. Despite recent governmental aspirations to support housing requirements for newly released prisoners (Ministry of Justice, 2020), it is illustrated how these interventions fall short in delivering what probation fundamentally intends to achieve, namely supporting men and women reintegrate into the community. The next section explores the challenges men and women faced when trying to secure accommodation, the support received from probation and the associated impact on their re-entry journeys.
The challenges of securing accommodation
For the participants in this study, securing housing was a long-winded and hindering process. The struggles to locate housing were contrary to policy intentions of ensuring accommodation for people exiting prison. As Jessica explains three months after being released from prison: I’m still sofa surfing you know that? The landlord didn't want me. I didn't qualify for universal credit or housing benefit. For that reason, I didn't qualify for private rental through the council […] I'm actually falling right down the crack of society […] The whole process of just getting a roof is really tough. (Jessica)
Transitional support from prison to the community failed to accommodate housing needs. There was a general lack of awareness and understanding regarding the types of post-release welfare and financial support. Due to the extensive time to locate suitable housing, this left Jessica with minimal option but to resort to securing temporary accommodation through social avenues. There are resonances here with Sheehan and Trotter's (2018) study where the women did not find housing services post-release helpful. Part of this lack of preparation for life in the community can be attributed to the experiences inside prison, which amplify pains on release: I didn’t have the opportunity to have quality resettlement and preparation for real life. For example, I didn’t know if I have a criminal conviction, I wouldn’t be able to rent privately. Nobody told me if I’m doing a degree, anything above a certain level, I wouldn’t qualify for universal credit. I didn’t know that. I still don’t have universal credit and I don’t have a job. So, I’m actually dependent on friends and family chipping in […] People in prison are very heavily into box ticking exercises. (Jessica)
This excerpt points to the significant role prisons have in equipping people with the knowledge and experience they require for the challenges they will face when released from prison. Housing, employment, and gaining an income are central factors to assist re-entry and support rehabilitative pathways into society. Research has shown that for women in particular, the most helpful programmes and services are those that interact with prisoner's while they are incarcerated and maintain support post-release (Trotter, 2012). However, as Jessica's accounts strongly illustrate, imprisonment and release into society are not discrete chapters in a person's life. Experiences of imprisonment and release may intensify pre-existing disadvantage (Segrave and Carlton, 2013). Carlen and Tombs (2006: 337) refer to this overlay of punishment in both prison and society as the ‘women's imprisonment and reintegration industries’. A form of ‘transcarceralism’ (Carlen and Tombs, 2006) existed for participants, where the pains and burdens of imprisonment transferred to their lives in the community. While the cited studies are based on women's narratives, this finding was also experienced in men's post-release journeys: When I left prison, probation classified me as a high risk, violent offender. They made this whole big thing about high risk but the one thing that they couldn’t talk about was accommodation, which has been the root of my problems since I was 14. I’m 36 now […] They said we’re gonna do everything in our power to make sure you don’t go back into the same condition that you went into prison where I was living on the streets. I felt really let down because I was promised that I wouldn’t be made homeless. (Elias)
Participants without secured housing were not only placed in a vulnerable position but also received limited support from probation. Discussions with probation officers were filled with hope but failed to deliver what they intended to promise for men and women transitioning into the community. Institutional aims to ‘tackle the root causes of crime’ fell short. Instead, Elias seeped through the welfare net of individual support, leaving him in an equally disadvantaged position as when he first entered prison. This meant that participants were often left isolated and had to make decisions autonomously to secure housing on their own accord. This form of neoliberal self-governance encourages prisoners to take responsibility for their own actions and ‘navigate the social realm by optimising their social utility’ (Corcoran and Fox, 2013: 141). Self-regulation of conduct was paramount due to the limited practical support offered by probation: Probation is not about helping people. They put you in contact with other organisations and can set up meetings with the council but they can’t actually do anything for you. Their way of helping is like signposting. All that probation do is signpost and that's their job. (Elias)
Probation was viewed as a guiding service for participants, pointing them to external agencies rather than offering ‘direct help’ (Farrall, 2002). The types of support probation did offer included more administrative and routine tasks, such as arranging meetings for participants. In King's (2013: 141) study, ‘relatively few individuals commented positively upon the practical assistance that they received during their experiences of probation’. While King's participants were positive about the more mundane tasks that were completed by probation, there was an element of normative expectation whereby the men and women in this study perceived the administrative support offered as part of the probation officer's responsibility. There are further resonances in King's study where participants were referred to external organisations to overcome challenging situations. The tendency to refer people to external sources can be understood as part of a broader contextual shift to privatise the criminal justice system, where third-party agencies and associated bodies work in tandem to increase cost-savings, efficiency, and streamline services to provide quick, easy-access solutions to certain issues in the release process (Burrell, 2022; Tidmarsh, 2020). Elias’ narrative illustrates the pains resulting from the lack of first-hand support needed from probation: The hardest thing I’ve had to deal with is housing. Most estate agents won’t even talk to me, others will ask for £22K in savings before they even consider me. I had an approved premise which was contracted for 3 months. That ran out. So, probation said they would sort out temporary accommodation. They put me in contact with an organisation who gave me a link to a rent guarantor company so now I’m in a homeless shelter, temporary accommodation, where they just stick you in a room […] But that time between when my approved premise ran out and before I got this room, I was officially homeless. (Elias)
As shown in the above passage, post-release housing support was not only fragmented in terms of allocating accommodation but put into perspective the challenges associated with being approved by landlords and estate agencies. The requirements to obtain housing for Elias point to the financial difficulties of satisfying eligibility criteria. Where participants were unable to provide a residential address, the approved premise was the only viable option available. Approved premises provide supervision and accommodation for high-risk offenders. They are mostly used for people released on licence and play a role in monitoring and managing the risk of their residents. Participants were under a contractual obligation, which would usually occur for a short-term duration before they were released from these premises. While government reforms have targeted support to meet housing needs for people leaving prison (Ministry of Justice, 2021), more work is required to ensure men and women obtain continuous housing which would reduce the likelihood of homelessness, provide individual stability, and facilitate reintegration into the community. Living in approved premises posed challenges for one woman in particular: I live on a shared AP with 14 people […] I got an extension on my room but I’ve already been here for 6 months. Probation say they are really busy all the time […] Nothings being progressed […] I feel like I am sort of forgotten about. The thing is they do all the work for the girls that are needy. I’m quite capable of sorting my own stuff out so I feel that they don’t really pay attention to me. (Anne)
Anne's immediate transition into the community was spent entirely in one approved premise. She perceived that there was little hope to secure permanent and stable accommodation, given the length of time spent in the approved premise. The fear of being left behind reinforces earlier findings which described the troubles of securing housing as ‘falling through the crack of society’ (Jessica). A core theme of these narratives point to the increasing need for individuals to demonstrate independence and pro-active behaviour. Such neoliberal tendencies, self-governing behaviour and exercising decisions autonomously to influence outcomes, are central components of the probation services’ drive to encourage individuals to ‘self-serve’ and become agents of their own future. Taking initiative and actively pursuing goals is a requirement to ensure individual needs and ambitions are met. For participants like Anne, who demonstrated compliance and personal responsibility, there was a feeling of being side-lined in favour of those viewed as more troublesome. The negative side-effects of the approved premise were perceived as comparable to the lived experiences in the prison environment: It’s not just prisoners who live here. It's people who have been taken out of the home for domestic violence. I thought I wouldn’t see anything more like what I’ve seen in prison but it's quite similar […] When I first came here 10 girls got recalled within the first few months and now, they’re slowly getting recalled again. There's a big problem with drugs and they’re bloody running around owing money to these dealers. It's bloody dangerous. I can’t be living with people like this and it's not helping me. (Anne)
Lowman's (1987) concept of ‘transcarceration’ is a useful description to explain the penal entrenchment inherent in Anne's experiences of living in approved premises. It highlights the nexus between the ‘peno-juridical, mental health, welfare and tutelage complex’ (Lowman, 1987: 9), which places the expanding web of penal power as filtering through multiple intersecting agencies which hold shared organisational interests and aims. From this perspective, while the structures and arrangements in approved premises serve to house individuals, they not only pervade the lives of men's and women's experiences but compound cycles of existing trauma, institutionalisation, and dependency, all of which play a central role in determining gendered post-release trajectories and outcomes (Segrave and Carlton, 2013; Maidment, 2006). This narrative echoes Osterman's (2018) findings, which highlighted issues of securing permanent housing. Among the English participants, unmet housing and the frequent referral to temporary accommodation were key concerns, including more sustained periods of living under these arrangements. The findings in this study demonstrate the inherent struggles to access, secure, and sustain permanent housing. Those who did eventually secure accommodation were often moved across different types of temporary housing, from approved premises to homeless service agencies, and occupied sustained periods in these kinds of accommodation. The final section of this article will examine the implications of the research findings.
Concluding discussion
There has been a steady body of research examining the impact of probation supervision on reoffending (Farrall, 2002; King, 2013; Maruna et al., 2004; McNeill, 2016). Similarly, commentators have advanced the scope of these studies to include the ‘pains of probation’ in an international context (Durnescu, 2011) and more recently a comparative study of English and French men's experiences of probation supervision (Fernando, 2021). This study has sought to extend this research base with a critical exploration of men's and women's early transitions from prison to the community. The study has highlighted the experiences of probation supervision for this small group of men and women and the challenges associated with re-entry. It has demonstrated the ways in which probation practices hinder post-release necessities and aspirations for men and women in need of welfare support in society. There are several implications which ought to be highlighted from participants’ narratives.
Firstly, the much-anticipated release from prison to the community was permanently clouded by expansive probation licence conditions. Restoring a sense of normality was increasingly challenging while participants actively sought to discover and navigate alternative routes to what they perceived as living a normal life. The tight restrictions under probation were remedied by seeking alternative pathways around licence conditions. This was not always possible given the breadth of licence conditions, which considered the type of offence committed and lifestyle activities prior to imprisonment. Amidst the challenges such licence conditions imposed, participants continuously worked to negotiate the boundaries of compliant behaviour, while attempting to rebuild their lives and plan for their future (Maruna, 2001). Secondly, the self-regulation of conduct to meet probation requirements highlights the importance of being able to adopt and integrate a new, desired self that is both compatible with institutional expectations and aligned to preserve self-serving interests. This re-conceptualisation of identity entices individuals to demonstrate neoliberal-inspired characteristics which ultimately influence their re-entry pathways in the community. The self-governance of behaviour occupies a permanent marker in the psyche of men and women who most often felt as if they were ‘skating on thin ice’ at the risk of being recalled to prison at any moment. The fear of breaching licence conditions was apparent and raises important questions for how men and women can, and indeed, to what extent, they should take full responsibility for their actions. Given the passive support of probation officers in addressing participants’ social and personal issues, this calls to question the level of accountability that is expected from the individual in addressing their sentencing plans. Lastly, the most vulnerable group of participants were those without secure and permanent housing. The shortcomings of housing service provision failed to address housing necessities for this group of people who were evidently most in need of support to be able to reintegrate into society. This raises significant concerns about the post-release welfare structures and treatment for people leaving prison. The provision of housing services for men and women demonstrates the inherent limitations of the processes that are integral to the development and implementation of criminal justice and social policies.
Although the participants in this study presented mainly negative accounts of their experiences of probation supervision and the challenges associated with re-entry, there are several key points that can be drawn. The suggestion that probation support is limited in scope, and does not cater to the specific treatment and needs required on release, echoes existing findings (King, 2013). Approaches to the ways in which supervision is delivered suggests that probation serves as a guiding service rather than helping individuals overcome specific social, economic, and personal issues. Probation therefore serves to facilitate ‘signposting’ for individuals, to borrow Elias’ term. This method of probation supervision is underpinned by neoliberal tendencies which have shaped probation practices since the privatisation of the criminal justice system. Against the backdrop of neoliberal informed penal politics, probation supervision places the onus on the individual to self-rehabilitate and influence the terms of their sentencing. While a plethora of multi-agencies from the ‘penal voluntary sector’ (Hucklesby and Corcoran, 2016), such as community rehabilitation companies and non-governmental organisations, exist to facilitate re-entry, they have contributed to ‘organisational bifurcation’ (Burke and Collett, 2016). Some of these community service providers are supported by public sector initiatives while others are facilitated by private sector companies and sub-contracted third sector organisations under a ‘hybridised contractual service provision arrangement’ (McNeill and Graham, 2019: 368). The shift away from state regulation of public services restructures the economy so that individuals are to take responsibility for their own actions, reinforcing the neoliberal impetus to be self-sufficient in the community. Although pathways out of crime are said to be a gradual, individual process (Maruna, 2001; Maruna et al., 2004), the probation service and associated bodies need to acknowledge that rehabilitation is about helping people and playing an active role in supporting their re-entry journeys. While the men and women in this study had only been released for a short period, it may be that their probation supervision and treatment become more susceptible to positive assessment at a later duration (see Farrall, 2002).
Finally, probation supervision should pay more attention to prospective accounts of a person's goals and ambitions rather than focus on retrospective events that have occurred in the past. Central to successful re-entry is for individual change to be realised and enacted in the future. Placing the specific needs and aspirations of the individual at the forefront of probation supervision will increase the likelihood of successful re-entry rather than solely relying on interventions to measure levels of risk and public safety. Future research that addresses these issues will further contribute to our understanding of the probation service, including its supervision and practices, which are fundamental in assisting men's and women's transition from prison to the community.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank all the men and women who participated in this research and for sharing their valuable experiences. I am grateful to Professor Mary Bosworth and the anonymous reviewer(s) for their constructive feedback on an earlier version of this article.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
