Abstract
In this article, we draw from 159 qualitative interviews with Canadian correctional officers (COs) exploring their experiences and attitudes regarding social media. We frame our study within the “synoptic” mode of surveillance and public visibility—referring to the many observing the few—impacting public safety personnel, exploring the perceived vulnerabilities of COs, including toward prisoners, management, the organization, and the public. We highlight recent research on COs, especially in the Canadian context, and review the synoptic surveillance implications of social media in society. Our findings highlight four interrelated areas: COs (sometimes lack of) awareness of Correctional Service Canada (CSC) policies regarding social media use; challenges they experience online; the central role of privacy; and strategies they use to manage challenges and maintain privacy, especially considering their role as public representatives. We conclude by discussing how the use of social media produces new vulnerabilities for COs in public spaces and suggest future directions for research and practices.
Introduction
Characterized as the “invisible ghosts of penality” (Liebling, 2000, p. 337), only recently has academic attention centered the correctional officer (CO) as crucial for helping prisoners and correctional services meet their goals, not only for securitization, but developing pathways toward desistance from crime and community reintegration for people who are incarcerated (PWAI) (Crawley, 2013; Ricciardelli, 2019; Weinrath, 2016). Yet, we still know very little about the experiences and attitudes of COs’ social media use, especially compared with the rapid growth of research examining police officer’s new visibility (Goldsmith, 2010; Schneider, 2016a, 2016b). Social media use among COs exposes them to risks unique to prison work, especially given their daily contact with PWAI, and considering their role as governmental employees with knowledge of the backstage occurrences in prisons. In this article, we examine the attitudes and experiences of Canadian federal COs with social media, especially considering their role representing an arm of the federal government. As federal, public employees, COs’ use of social media has implications for personal reputations, but also potentially reflects upon their organization, Correctional Service Canada (CSC) and the greater government.
In this article, we draw from 159 qualitative interviews with Canadian COs exploring their experiences and attitudes regarding social media. We incorporate recent work theorizing the synoptic mode of surveillance and public visibility impacting police (Adorjan & Ricciardelli, 2021), here exploring perceived vulnerabilities of COs, including toward PWAI, management, the organization, and the public. Our literature review highlights recent research on COs, highlighting risks to their mental health and well-being; risks potentially amplified through exposure to synoptic online audiences. We draw from theories linking image work, organizational legitimacy, and synoptic surveillance, usually applied to studies of policing. We argue that while COs are not public-facing as with police, prison work exposes COs to synoptic risks with implications for wider societal perceptions of prison work, COs, and more widely crime and those who are imprisoned. Findings highlight four interrelated areas: COs (sometimes lack of) awareness of CSC policies regarding social media use; challenges they experience online; the central role of privacy; and strategies they use to manage challenges and maintain privacy, especially considering their role as public representatives. The article contributes to knowledge regarding how people working for public organizations adjust their social media use as representatives of their organization, aware of what we characterize as synoptic prudentialism. In the case of COs, the article adds knowledge to how synoptic prudentialism applies to those working in securitized environments such as prisons. We conclude by discussing how the use of social media produces new vulnerabilities for COs in public spaces and suggest future directives tied to research and practices.
Prison Work: Sources of Stress, Distrust, and Risks to Mental Health
Working in prisons presents unique stresses and challenges for COs, including exposure to physical harm (e.g., from a prisoner attacking with a self-styled weapon), to interactions and encounters that stress the mental well-being of COs (Ricciardelli, 2019), compounded by often exhausting shift work in understaffed prisons with limited resources (Boyd, 2011; Martin et al., 2012; Summerlin et al., 2010). These stresses lead to elevated risks for burnout, posttraumatic stress and other mental health disorders and, for some, suicidal ideation and suicide (Carleton et al., 2018, 2019). Of note, the prevalence of mental health disorders among COs is significantly higher than in the general population (Carleton et al., 2020; Tartaglini & Safran, 1997).
Facing such risks during daily encounters, prisons are often characterized as “low-trust environment[s]” (Crewe, 2011, p. 459; Liebling & Arnold, 2004), where PWAI are often labeled with stigmatizing words projecting this distrust, perhaps the quintessential one being “cons”—a view of prisoners as inherently distrustful (Lindahl, 2011; Worley et al., 2003). COs, including those in training as well as those more experienced, express concern over prisoner manipulation, especially when new to a prison and establishing rapport (Adorjan and Ricciardelli, 2023a; Liebling et al., 2011; Lindahl, 2011). As we will show below, these concerns are directly linked to anxieties over social media use.
Sources of stress notwithstanding, COs also experience stress related to management, with some COs identifying management as having a greater negative impact on their daily work than the PWAI themselves (Ricciardelli, 2019). As Finney et al. (2013) note, “the hierarchal relationship between management and staff can cause stress and job dissatisfaction” (p. 2). Finney and colleagues’ (2013) systematic review found “organizational structure and climate,” rather than PWAI, to have “the most consistent relationship with CO job stress and burnout” (p. 1). Organizational structure here refers to “employees’ degree of decision latitude, organizational politics, and communication between the organization and staff” (p. 3). Eriksson’s (2023) study of Australian prisons revealed, through qualitative interviews, that prison staff felt “unsupported” by management and “big bosses in the city,” leading to a sense of precarity regarding job security, such as in cases where COs felt altercations with prisoners would lead to sympathy for prisoners and staff potentially losing their job (p. 7). Eriksson (2023) notes, this perceived lack of support left staff feeling more exposed and under threat in a dangerous but important profession, further reinforcing the us-and-them division and encouraging the formation of hostile subcultures within staff cohorts. (p. 7)
In sum, CO stress often centers on the risks and dangers associated with managing prisoners in a securitized environment, but also management and organizational factors which, if negatively experienced, may engender and reinforce subcultural adaptations among COs which only further exacerbate negative interactions and relations with PWAI and management alike. As we evidence in our findings, these stresses may be amplified through the synoptic risks engendered by social media and its synoptic gaze on prison work.
Synoptic Prudentialism and the Risk of Prison Workers’ New Visibility
We frame our findings by drawing on scholarship linking new forms of internet-mediated communication, and the new visibility impacting organizational legitimacy and those working within organizations such as policing. We begin with a focus on policing, where much research has understandably coalesced. Policing scholars have long underscored the centrality of image work for policing, referring to “all the activities in which police forces engage . . . [to] project meanings of policing” (Mawby, 2002, p. 1; Reiner, 2003). Image work is closely embroiled with organizational presentation strategies geared to establishing, and maintaining, police legitimacy and reputation in the eye of the public (Lee & McGovern, 2013; Mawby, 2002; Schneider, 2016a, 2016b). Schneider (2016b) notes “people learn about law and policing, including police procedures, largely from exposure to media, rather than direct experience” (p. 14). This applies even more to prison work, which is often only considered by members of the public through exaggerated TV and film depictions (Adorjan & Ricciardelli, 2023a; Bennett & Knight, 2021).
Thompson’s (2005) influential examination of the new visibility applied to institutions and government organizations (e.g., the military and police), highlights risks related to “mediated visibility,” arguing that it is “those who exercise power, rather than those over whom power is exercised, who are subjected to [this] new kind of visibility” (pp. 40–41). Thompson (2005) adds, the making visible of actions and events is not just the outcome of leakage in systems of communication and information flow that are increasingly difficult to control: it is also an explicit strategy of individuals who know very well that mediated visibility can be a weapon in the struggles they wage in their day-to-day lives. (p. 31, added emphasis)
Thompson’s work has been taken up by those examining police organizations’ reputational vulnerabilities related to social media (e.g., people with smartphones capturing and posting for wide consumption images of police indiscretion, including corruption and brutality; see Goldsmith, 2015). As Goldsmith (2015) notes, the ability of [social media] platforms to link potentially vast data sources of personal or otherwise compromising information with diverse, substantial and often hidden audiences poses a major risk to officer reputations, agency legitimacy and operational effectiveness. (pp. 249–250)
Even if police organizations’ aim of control of their social media presence indicates the “hyperreal” or “simulation” of legitimacy and transparency (or Hurley’s, 2019, “fantastical authenticity”), the distinction is merely academic; that is, “police are able to foster not only this semblance of legitimacy through a mediated understanding of the police, but also actual legitimacy in the eyes of the public by promoting policing as a legitimate activity” (Ellis & McGovern, 2016, p. 956; Lee & McGovern, 2013).
As with police, though admittedly more complex given the relatively hidden nature of prison work, COs are increasingly beholden to a synoptic mode of surveillance where the many (publics who access social media) observe the few (individual COs, managers, wardens, etc.) (Doyle, 2011; Mathiesen, 1997). Synoptic prudentialism fuses these two frameworks to indicate an “individual’s or organization’s reflexive actions and adjustments in response to an acute awareness of ubiquitous social surveillance” (Adorjan & Ricciardelli, 2021). Synoptic surveillance disrupts organizations’ ability to control their contextual integrity, given the presence of unknown “nadic” audiences (as opposed to offline dyadic or other interactive iterations) and problematize the contextual integrity of the messages sent online (Nissenbaum, 2011; Tian & Menchik, 2016). One way to characterize the pressures placed upon those subject to the new visibility of online communications is to consider the role of prudentialism in society. Prudentialism refers to “an orientation where one takes preemptive actions to avoid or ameliorate an anticipated negative outcome or impact” (Adorjan & Ricciardelli, 2021). Sociological examinations of prudentialism indicate long-term historical shifts toward neoliberal governance and a scaling back of the government’s roles and responsibilities in managing the social; responsibilities which are projected on to individuals and organizations (Rose, 1996, 2000).
Despite the focus on police here, organizational anxieties related to synoptic visibility and reputation is of concern, of course, more widely (e.g., Adorjan & Ricciardelli, 2023b). Goldsmith (2010) notes, policing in this sense is like other professions (medicine, law, teaching) or reputable institutions (hospitals, royal families, etc.) in wishing to promote a sense of professional or official competence and hence entitlement to privileged recognition. This is achieved in part by concealing those [Goffmanian] “back” activities, including acting out of official “role,” that have the potential to detract from public attributions of competence, trust and respect. (p. 917)
A continued focus on criminal justice institutions, however, offers more proximate comparisons with police. Prison management, like in other professions, has as part of their task safeguarding the image of the correctional services, including the COs who, as federal government employees, represent the arm of the state dealing with prisoner management and release. When compared with police, COs do not have the same public visibility, though arguably the stakes are high considering persistently negative media attention given to prisons (Ricciardelli et al., 2023), often highlighting prison riots and other incidents when they occur, but failing to capture the everyday, even positive aspects of CO-PWAI interactions and rapport. In Canada, guidance for government employees, including COs, comes from the Treasury Board of Canada. Grube (2017) notes, quoting the Treasury Board of Canada Secretariat (2013: Appendix C): The most relevant examples of “unacceptable use,” and the ones that have generated the greatest public debate through court cases, are the uses seen to be breaching the public servants “duty of loyalty” through criticism of the government. These include activities that are illegal without being criminal, such as: “Revealing sensitive government information without authorization.” (p. 82)
This applies aptly to COs, who—as our interviews reveal—do share a duty of loyalty regarding their position as governmental representatives, and express prudential attitudes toward posting content on social media that would criticize the government.
The controlled environments of prisons direct surveillance and regulation toward PWAI, though as we will show COs express concern about PWAI redirecting surveillance to them by PWAI with access to smartphones in prison (frequently smuggled in). This refers to sousveillance, surveillance is redirected upon those traditionally with the power to control surveillance technologies; that is, the watched become the watchers (Mann & Ferenbok, 2013). Sousveillance in prisons is also likely underscored by other technologies such as drones, with the capability of broadcasting images overhead of prisons, but also importing and exporting substances (e.g., drugs and weapons). The presence of sousveillance warrants synoptic prudentialism among COs, but also given that media attention on prisons and COs is often quite negative and may breach security or privacy (Ricciardelli et al., 2023). Liebling and colleagues (2011) note that “public and media interest has tended to focus on ‘the dark side’ [of prisons] and some aspects of centralized management aim to control this facet of the prison officer’s world” (p. 120, endnote #16). One study of media depictions of COs found almost 80% of articles to be negative depictions, with only 13.6% neutral and 6.8% positive (Vickovic et al., 2013, p. 460). Moreover, Vickovic and colleagues (2013) found 42.3% of articles reported on CO misconduct within the official scope of their duties. These negative depictions exist alongside public perceptions of COs as “uneducated, lazy, sexually deviant, brutal, aggressive, and uncaring” (Vickovic et al., 2013, p. 457), working in an occupation where “there is little occupational prestige and status associated with the job” (p. 456). As per the research of Keinan and Malach-Pines’ (2007), the low status of correctional work is rated by Israel Prison Service employees as on par with the possibility of being injured from a prisoner, sadly. CO public image and mental wellness may thus be correlated, with improving public image potentially linked to CO management of mental health and work-related stress (Keinan & Malach-Pines, 2007). Not surprisingly, Finney et al. (2013) note that COs would benefit from increased communication and support from management, arguing that “management can provide COs with a clearer written description of the goals and policies of the correctional facilities” as well as increase the transparency of their processes (p. 11).
In this research, we turn to qualitative interviews with COs, asking about their social media use, their views regarding the risks entailed in using social media, and awareness of policies at CSC—including how social media impacts CO wellness—recognizing each may help COs navigate the benefits and pitfalls of engaging with synoptic audiences online.
Methods
This study draws on data from semi-structured interviews with 159 COs, each with at least 1 year of occupational experience working for CSC. The interviews were intended to unpack the occupational stress injuries and psychological well-being of officers, as part of a multiyear longitudinal study. Here, our explicit focus is on the impacts of social media. We asked participants if they used social media, their awareness of CSC social media related policies, and if their practices online are informed by their occupational work. Of note, interviews, counter to our original intention, were largely conducted by phone, due to COVID-19 restrictions and public health measures and we adhered to a semi-grounded conversational format (Charmaz, 2014; Glaser & Strauss, 1967) when speaking to participants.
In total, 93 males and 64 females comprise our data set (two unspecified), of whom 43 were between age 19–24, 81 between 25–34, and 34 between 35–64 (one unspecified). Some participants, 32, had, prior to starting at CSC, experience working for correctional services or public safety/armed forces professions. Most participants are white, and are college or university graduates. Participant recruitment was aided by CSC. The PI explained the study to potential participants and those choosing to participant were contacted, with the choice between being interviewed at work on shift or in their personal time. Thus, CSC permissions and support were essential to the study. Interviews were largely between 45 and 90 min, averaging toward 90 min, each voice recorded and transcribed verbatim. We anonymized participant identifying information, replaced names with a participant identification number, and removed speech fillers in all quotes used, never obfuscating meaning but ensuring ease of readability and vernacular. The participant numbers extend beyond the sample size as participants are given a number at study enrollment, which we keep consistent across their study participation, despite the subset of data analyzed in each substudy. We elect not to use pseudonyms because names can suggest gender, race, ethnicity, and even age, which are each largely irrelevant, given demographics were not tied to any discernible differences among participant responses. We attained research ethics approval from the University of Calgary’s Conjoint Faculties Research Ethics Board.
Prior to coding, we constructed a working codebook, which was revised repeatedly as more interviews were coded to ensure comprehensive and exhaustive codes. The codebook was constructed by first reviewing multiple transcripts and denoting different topics or subjects present in the data. Each topic or subject constituted a “node,” which was then broken down into additional “child nodes”—topics within topics. Once we had a comprehensive codebook laced with mutually exclusive and comprehensive codes, we set out anew coding all transcripts. Each node then, when plentiful in quantity across participants, represents a theme, with subthemes being representing by child and grandchild nodes. In our work we refrained from analyzing nodes with fewer than five mentions across transcripts as our interest is in the majority experience, rather than the one offs, or unique experiences. We then axial-coded using QSR NVivo software each transcript, always adhering to the codebook (Kendall, 1999). Coding was always conducted by a team of research assistants, who meet regularly to discuss inconsistencies or outliers in data or coding, presenting a qualitative variant of interrater reliability. Our scheme included a category labeled “social media” under which we coded the answers analyzed in this article and when coding we completed validity checks, which involved returning to the full transcript to ensure consistent and genuine interpretation of the participants’ intentions. After, we employed open-coding (Cascio et al., 2019) to further breakdown the data into themes around policies, knowledge, challenges, and strategies, which collectively and comprehensively represented the data.
Results
We first unpack CO understandings of CSC social media policies and how officers feel about the usefulness of these policies. Next, considering policies and personal preferences around social media, we present the challenges officers perceive may underpin being online via social media and their strategies to navigate these challenges. Our results suggest privacy is a central feature for many officers—supporting their wellness as they reduce vulnerability—and their strategies have the dual function of adhering to policy and ensuring their (and their loved ones) safety outside of work.
Social Media in Policy
Don’t use your badge on social media. Don’t do a uniform straight up. Don’t take pictures of the institution.
In total, a relative minority of 28 participants felt certain they knew CSC social media related policies. These policies, as described by COs, were “designed to protect an organization” in a space where “the media’s not exactly an ally in terms of corrections” (P27). According to the participants, policies include not posting pictures in uniform, retaining prisoner and institutional privacy (e.g., not disclosing prisoner locations or presence), and maintaining discretion of personal information (e.g., addresses and phone numbers):
“Don’t post anything that would be detrimental to the safety of the institution or correctional officers or inmates on social media.”
“Obviously, not be taking pictures in here, or even bring your phone in here.”
Another participant clarified that “anything that does that, invades somebody else’s privacy, is definitely something that can be even disciplined and can be looked into criminally” (P69). In addition, “friending inmates,” referred to by a couple of COs, was thought to be against the policy. Some COs referred to their experiences during the Correctional Training Program (referred to as CORE or CTP) where they were told such policies. One CO said not “friending” prisoners “is stressed a lot in CORE . . . social media is supposed to be used for your life outside of work, you’re not supposed to post your day-to-day activities on social media” (P113). When befriended by PWAI, participants explain if “an inmate contacts us or reaches us on social media we report it” (P13). Other COs spoke of refraining from speaking negatively about the organization on social media as being incorporated into the policy (e.g., “you can’t speak ill of CSC . . . That goes with any [time] you’re an ambassador for the company, you can’t talk crap about them” (P45)).
However, not all participants were sure of the policies. In total, 47 references were made regarding some degree of uncertainty about the nuances of CSC social media policies. Although a general understanding exists, participants were not sure if actions were “common sense” (50 references) versus what requirements were CSC directives where any violation had potential consequences. Participants explain, “You can’t just post whatever you want. You gotta be careful or whatever to a certain degree. I’m sure there’s policies, I know there’s policies but I wouldn’t know the exact ones” (P103). Perhaps unsurprisingly, COs made no reference to the Treasury Board of Canada policies quoted above. Unlike certain police services, such as the Toronto Police Service which provides explicit guidelines for officers regarding their social media use and “how best to represent the Service,” (Schneider, 2016a, p. 135) CSC provides such guidance only during initial CO training—and rarely there after—which, in many ways, leaves COs responsible to independently determine appropriate social media use. This lack of knowledge of policy details is echoed by numerous COs, as participants were “sure there are [policies], I just don’t know what they are” (P119). Despite a lack of awareness about precise policies in place, most felt the policies were “useful” (30 references), even “fair” (71 references), with some expressions of cynicism regarding the reasons for such policies: “the policies are there because somebody properly went and messed up and they had to implement it” (P10). COs pointed to several reasons why policies are useful, including the role of policies in maintaining CSC’s reputation (e.g., “you work for [and] you represent CSC whether you have the uniform on or not” (P103)) and policies encouraged employees “to think before they act and then it also protects them from doing stupid stuff” (P143). Participants felt that “even though the society doesn’t really see us, we are held to a higher standard and we should be and what we say and do on social media directly affects CSC” (P87). Moreover, the policy was described as “useful . . . because you don’t want to jeopardize the safety of your employees or another employee because of this employee” (P178).
Challenges of Being on Social Media
Challenges tied to social media use were often couched in “safety” and being subject to vulnerability, either with prisoners, colleagues, management, or government. Simply said, the key challenge COs expressed about going online is the ability for people to access personal information, including an officer’s postings, address, phone number, and photos, even by just knowing the name of an officer. Thus, challenges were centered on “safety,” not just personal safety but also that of loved ones, related to coercion and “leveraging.” A participant succinctly summarized: “be safe with it like don’t put too much information out there for someone to find out and leverage it against you in a prison” (P104)—thus COs protected their wellness by ensuring privacy, which reduced their vulnerabilities. Leveraging was multifold, as a participant explains, with social media, there is the “potential for other staff members to potentially, not necessarily maliciously but potentially, information [finds] it’s way around in the form of rumors or discussion or if it gets mentioned in front of an inmate” (P106). Thus, leveraging could come in any direction, was not necessarily negative, but left officers feeling vulnerable. The risks of exposure and coercion do not solely rely in breakdowns to contextual integrity with the public (Nissenbaum, 2011), but PWAI themselves who were recognized to have indirect access to those who could post damaging information on social media (we explore synoptic vulnerability to prisoners further below).
Vulnerability to Management
Some participants expressed becoming vulnerable to management, either being investigated, disciplined, or enduring consequences due to social media. For instance, P262 has “had other officers say be careful what you post because all of us are being watched” by management. Other participants explained that “post[s], if that can be read by management,” (P21) can result in consequences if policy is violated, which leaves them potentially liable as well as vulnerable. To exemplify, an officer who was “ratted” to management for a YouTube channel that expressed political views was made to “delete his YouTube channel” (P270). As consequence, as per P270, it “just depends, if it ends up being seen by management or not.” For the most part, the sentiment was not wanting “management to have the opportunity to discipline me for something that has nothing to do with work” (P425). Such views are not without warrant. As Goldsmith (2015, p. 263) notes, some police services are actively monitoring even private social media sites used by their officers, where publicly available.
In addition, 29 references were made by COs about the vulnerability in their role as a government employee. COs felt pressure maintain respect for CSC regarding what they post online, rather than condemnation. A participant explains: “don’t try to be negative about CSC, if you’re a CSC employee. Cause again the employer could find out . . . You’re representing like an organization you should show the proper respect towards it. If not why are you working there?” (P104). Moreover, some participants felt a need to censor their views, rather than post “anything that doesn’t really stand with CSC’s view points” (P114). P165 feels that posts which fail to “align with where you work or what you do for work” may result in being “pulled into an office pretty quickly if you post something that’s off the beaten path.” Thus, concern also arose about the possibility that “the employer could find out” (P104) about negative posts, or the disclosure of information, which could compromise one’s occupational security. A participant explains “freedom of speech does not mean freedom of repercussions, you say stupid shit, you’re going to get repercussions for it” (P28). Here, a participant reflects “try and be respectful about your job online” (P35), while P226 says “it’s common sense whether you’re not gonna be posting stuff that could impact your job” and P345 reminds, you definitely got to be careful about what you post. I know some people like to go on [social media], stir up shit, and post controversial stuff but it’s definitely you can get yourself in trouble. I’ve seen it I’ve seen it happen.
Moreover, participants surmised that “some people are just unaware of the fact the internet is forever at the end of the day . . . if you post something, you’ve better be very careful and be very self-aware that could bite you very badly” (P398) or noted, I have to be really careful about things that I comment on, on Facebook because being in this position, anything you write and another person sees and doesn’t like, they can contact anybody and tell on you cause I work for the government now. (P313)
COs thus may not be fully aware of formal CSC policies regarding social media use, but they express a consistent synoptic imagination regarding their organizational role as a government employee and representative.
Beyond consequences, COs felt occupationally responsible toward their organization when in public spaces online, this included how they self-presented, and taking “a professional approach” (P54). Some, for example, felt it inappropriate to be “posting pictures of you going out partying and getting high or something. I don’t think that’s going reflect well as somebody who’s a public servant” (P12). The sentiment here being “we are presenting CSC even though we’re not working. We are their employees, so we got to be careful with everything we say on a public page . . . we can get in trouble for that” (P143). This included types of photos posted as well as words selected as participants recognized their online action could “reflect on CSC,” thus they refrained from “trash talking either the service or an inmate or a co-worker” (P69). P185 summarizes their position: I do think about things I post on social media and that’s just because I know it represents the Correctional Service [of] Canada and it represents my job and if I do post anything unprofessional on there, it’s gonna therefore mirror onto me . . . and it’s out there for the world so I don’t need to bring that attention on to myself.
Thus, officers felt vulnerable both to management and the greater organization, which they felt they represented in their government position and role. As P226 said: “it’s challenging because we’re held to a higher standard . . . with law enforcement, correctional officers, CBSA, like all the organizations, they’re held to a higher standard. I would say especially wearing their uniform.”
Vulnerability to Persons Who Are Imprisoned
In total, 34 references were made by participants about using caution on social media to prevent vulnerabilities from prisoners and prisoners’ loved ones or contacts—a way to preserve their and their loved ones wellness. Participants were concerned about possibly being the center of a rumor or their personal life being discussed in front of prisoners by colleagues due to awareness from social media, but more so their personal information being accessible online. This also relates to risks when PWAI are released and may regain access to social media themselves. Returning to the theme of “safety,” a participant explains, I have that inmate in here that 100% makes my skin crawl any time I interact with him. I’m not saying when he gets out he’s going to look me up on Facebook and find me ‘cause he 100% can . . . He’s not going to be able to see my birth date ‘cause I have that blocked, he’s not going to be able to see my pictures with my kids in it ‘cause I have it blocked. (P113)
Echoing others, this participant expresses being uncomfortable with some PWAI and thus takes cautions, but gaps in privacy remain. While COs may not be too concerned with PWAI finding them “on the outside” once released, concerns related to PWAI who may look up COs—especially if there is a history of conflict between them—are relatively new risks that amplify tension on the job and can generate harm to wellness.
Asked if they would ever “follow” PWAI upon release, or accept friend requests from former PWAI, the strongly consistent response among our participants was no, thus differentiating their social space from that of PWAI. Many participants found it “weird” when PWAI reached out to them, and preferred to not have PWAI be able to locate them on social media because it could be “concerning for your personal safety and family and friends” (P158). Participants were aware “inmates can search your name on Facebook or Twitter and find your profile then find information about you” (P21). Another reiterated: “there’s always that concern that an inmate might find your Facebook profile” (P7) while P270 explains “there’s nothing stopping an inmate from going back to his unit, getting on the phone and be like, ‘hey’ to his buddy or brother or sister, and be like, ‘hey can you look up this person on Facebook?’” (P270). Thus, officers were hesitant about having PWAI knowing about their personal activities and details. P336, for instance, stated, I don’t share a lot of private stuff, especially now with this job, cause I find that if an inmate wanted to find you, he could. I have a very secure account, no close up pictures, and if I do get married and have kids, none of that would ever be on there.
The concerns here including their profiles on dating apps, which P350 explains: “I am friends with a couple girls from my core and I see them regularly and they’ve had ex-offenders right on Tinder and things like that.” Others remained aware that some PWAI “know how to access that information even from secure websites” but recognize that “inside the jail . . . its restricted computer use, no internet” (P36). Overall, officers were aware there are many ways to be located by PWAI or to have their information accessible, and thus, caution is always necessary. They also avoid posting “details of someone’s life” and “bashing another co-worker” (P25).
Vulnerabilities to Public
COs expressed how social media could leave them vulnerable to public scrutiny, if they are not conscientious of their posts, privacy, and presence online. Some participants spoke of false information circulating online where “news spreads a lot faster and [the public] get their stories out a lot more, even sometimes the stories aren’t true, but there’s no real way to counteract them . . . The public just doesn’t really like CSC in general” (P17). More forcefully put, P161 expressed “the public is always out to hang us.” For these reasons, some participants found working for CSC at times emotionally taxing. Here, P442 explains, in terms of problems from the public, there’s always people that comment on different things involving Corrections Canada. If you challenge that on a post, it might not necessarily look professional even if you’re defending yourself and the way someone views you . . . That’s a hard one for sure.
Thus, participants felt they had little agency and voice in relation to public audiences who, they expressed, had bias toward CSC and COs alike. This led to being vulnerable and defensive, or muted, in online forums. Setting aside social media, COs have always had to carefully manage what they can say to people who ask them about what occurs in prisons. This management, however, extends into the management of social media privacy. As P13 said, I’m not a public figure per say but my friends that do know me, they know what I do and they do ask questions but I answer what I can. I don’t answer what I can’t, and I make sure that my footprint social media wise Twitter, Instagram, Facebook is as clean as humanely possible. (P13)
A related concern is with media coverage of prisons and trying to get inside information from COs. One participant stated, There are two federal statutes that regulate information [on] releases. Anything that is released to the public generally is through media release and then if people want to talk about it, people have tried to bate me, trying to find out where certain inmates are. I’m like “yeah nice try buddy I’m not telling you shit.” I’m not putting myself in hot water . . . people just don’t realize that there is a serious repercussion if we were to give information. (P31)
COs thus considered the public as often misinformed yet also curious, exposing COs to new forms of vulnerability especially online.
While not as prominent a theme, some participants felt social media could be used to make officers, including the good they do, more visible at a collective rather than individual level. Comparing to other services, P994 explains that “you go on Facebook or TikTok and you see photos of the RCMP or the border patrol or whatever but you never really see photos of correctional officers.” They feel there should be more formalized “social media stuff to represent us” rather than “just be some random officer posting videos or pictures.” Thus social media could, according to P994, be used to create a collective image of officers that is representative of the diversity of their role (i.e., care, custody, and control). This would counter what is considered the current depiction of officers, which is, as per P994, where “you don’t really see pictures of us doing much, so anytime you see anything on social media about a correctional officer normally it’s not good.” P49 expressed a similar point related to union representation of COs: Social media’s good in the form for correctional officers for . . . definitely from a union stand point because you know, I can speak to members at uh, [mentions specific institutions] and see what they’re doing there and see what we can do here on the other side of the country to improve people and, and swap ideas and really communicate to what would be best for all of our officers across Canada. So I definitely think that’s a positive and it’s definitely a positive for our union to have a platform so that all of us will be on the same page.
More could be done, COs expressed, at an organizational level, to communicate between PWAI and staff, to help instill better awareness and project a more positive vision of correctional work to wider publics as well. Overall, however, COs clearly articulated the vulnerabilities they felt in relation to synoptic online audiences.
Strategies to Counter Vulnerabilities
The central strategy participants employed online was tied to privacy. Participants spoke to how the occupation lends itself, even necessitates, taking precautions online—a concern not likely as salient before the widespread rise of social media. To explain, P87 said “today in society, people are very, very social media attached. When you grow up with social media and get into a job like this, it might be hard to change your habits, but it’s something you have to do.” The common theme is an officer should be careful and restrictive online. Generally, the sentiment is “don’t be dumb” (P28), do not “post anything stupid” (P114) and “you’ve got to be mindful of what you’re posting, and who you’re friends with, and what you’re sharing” (P33).
While not common, some COs reported eliminating their social media altogether. Here, select participants replied “no” when asked if they “use any social media at all?” Those who did explained they “eliminated Facebook and stuff prior to applying for CSC and I’ve never been back” (P106) or used social media minimally (e.g., “I try to leave my social presence as minimal as possible [online]” (P367)) or “didn’t have social media. I literally do not have anything” (P325). Some participants, like P429, always “stay off social media,” for reasons that include simple disinterest that pre-dated their employment. Others, like P172, have social media but take “a social media break” or only use social media to stay in contact with colleagues “outside of work, especially with the pandemic” (P274) and with family (P411). Some participants described a change, like P374, who prior to working at CSC, were “constantly posting on Instagram and all that stuff and I quit all that totally now. I hardly use social media now.” Likewise, P402 feels that “if I had social media, I’d definitely be a lot, a lot more conscious of what, what I’m putting on there,” in comparison with their prior social media presence. This was also the case for P410, who said “I use social media a lot less now that I work here” and P414 who described how “for me personally, once I started I just removed my picture from Facebook. I just don’t put my face on Facebook . . . I don’t post anything about my work . . . I just don’t put anything on Facebook unless I have to.” Other COs who used social media expressed care in its use. For instance, P143 said they “read what people say [on social media] but I stay away from it. I don’t want to get in trouble.” P396 posts things but explains they “don’t post any work related stuff.” Police officers, too, have been found to “refuse to upload content” or even “refuse to become users,” avoiding creating social media accounts altogether based on their “aware[ness] of [their] visibility” (Trottier, 2012, p. 422).
As noted, a reason given for the elimination or reduced use of social media was to avoid having “a little too much personal information out there. . . having to be conscious of all those [things] and make sure everything’s safeguarded” (P106). Lack of control of online audiences factored into prudential strategies. For instance, P411 said: “when people ask what you do, you try to keep it private and not share exactly what you do. Cause, you don’t know who you’re speaking with.” Thus, privacy arose repeatedly as a concern—a reason to be cognizant and minimalist in social media engagement. For some, like a participant who no longer has a Facebook account, social media was quickly “dropped” after feeling their privacy was encroached upon: I had Facebook when I first joined. It was pretty much very secure, and then I was only here for a week and I had an officer ask me about a photo I had on my Facebook. I didn’t have him [as a “friend” on Facebook] and I just thought that was the weirdest thing. So I just deleted it. I was like “I don’t need officers or inmates looking at my personal stuff.” (P45)
The officer voices a common concern, that of having their personal information online and accessible, particularly within the prison social world and ceased social media use at the first occurrence of any semblance of a privacy breach. Others did not delete their social media accounts but took steps to lock down their accounts to minimize the likelihood of public access (a theme we elaborate below). Many said they “never [post] anything about the job or where I work . . . I don’t really want my name and face out there especially in uniform.” Here, P313 revealed they asked their mother at graduation not to not post any pictures of them in uniform. Thus, the overarching theme here was “be cognizant of what you say . . . you’re subject to ridicule for saying something stupid regardless of where you work” (P28).
A minority of four participants expressed not changing their privacy setting after starting as a CO. Some suggested they “probably should” (P103) tighten up their privacy settings, with others admitting they have done “none of that kind of stuff” (P5) to date. One participant even shared a significant “issue with an inmate,” leading to concern that “he’s going to find me on Facebook and kill me,” concluding “I’m probably doing something not right” (P8). In contrast, 90 participants expressed taking actions to intensify their privacy on social media, since taking on their CO role. For example, a participant explained “I have my privacy settings maxed out” (P115) and another expressed, since starting their occupational role they “even changed my name on Facebook,” thus “100 percent” becoming aware of their privacy settings (P117). These participants were cognizant of their privacy settings (e.g., “I definitely have a pretty high privacy setting on my Facebook account” [P105]) and explained how they further maintained their privacy. Said differently, participants talked about ensuring their privacy was intact—“I make sure everything is tidied up” (P107)—as a plan to ensure they remain anonymous and thus safe and mentally well. While for many COs adjustments to privacy came following CTP training, some changed their privacy settings prior, like P398 who admits they changed their settings “just simply trying to get into law enforcement. I didn’t want recruiters or whatever looking into whatever I was putting on Facebook and stuff” but expresses “it’s a different mind-set [now], knowing an inmate could simply just look you up and stuff.”
Thus, motivations for privacy were often personal or, more often, tied to the occupation. To exemplify the personal desire for privacy—as some described themselves as “private” people, P26 states, My privacy settings are pretty restrictive, if we don’t have any mutual friends you can’t add me or message me or anything. I’m very conscious of what I post, I don’t post many pictures of my partner or my niece and nephew anymore, I know that inmates can’t see it because it’s private, but I find that I’m more private overall with my life. So I’ll post pictures of a tree.
Even as a self-described private person, this participant, echoing others, desired protection and privacy from PWAI—a work-related reason for changing their privacy settings on social media. Participants said they put their account “on lock down” (P119), were “strict” (P150), “restrictive” (P26), “way up” (P30) or “tight” (P152) with their privacy settings. P366 describes themselves as “always kept myself locked” but admits that “once I got into this job, I just went over and made sure everything was secure. I deleted anything—anybody that I didn’t remember or talk to anymore, that sort of thing.” Likewise, P375 recalled “way back when I first applied, I tighten everything right up anyways.” Others set up their accounts such that “unless you know who I am you’re not going to find my account” or such that “not everyone can see my pictures, I have to invite you.”
Other strategies COs employed to secure privacy included speaking very little “about your own personal life” (P10) such that you avoid disclosing your address or place of residence. Another frequent reference is to changing names. Some changed their “last name” (P104) or entire name, and few disclosed their place of work (e.g., “I don’t have where I work on my Facebook” (P105)). P143 recalls “I changed my name and I changed my privacy setting . . . my privacy setting in CTP and then I changed my name here ‘cause I got an inmate who followed me on Instagram which was pretty weird.” Another stays anonymous by using their “stepdad’s” (P78) last name. P22 recalls changing their name “after the first week of the CTP, last year. And for Facebook, same thing approximately. And on Facebook I changed my name twice. I changed it once during the CTP and another time I think in February.” P158 also referred to being “aware of my privacy settings. They did change. It’s quite closed off now and I changed my name visibility.”
At times, strategies were related to the affordances of social network sites—the technical features such as recommendations for whom to follow or friend. P18 “deleted a lot of people” at times because of “inmates that grew up in [city] that have shown up on my people you may know list. So, I’ve immediately deleted the mutual friends. I changed my names . . . I’ve deleted Twitter because everyone can find out I’m on Twitter.” Despite the strategies and effort taken, however, COs sometimes lament how their family can still be found on social media. P18 expressed frustration here: Like [PWAI will] find my family cause they all have the last name, things like that. It’s what it is. There’s nothing I can say or do about that. I can sit there and tell my parents oh yeah get rid of your social media because I’m afraid that one day it’ll happen.
This is also informed by stories, like that of P269, who explains “we’ve had inmates try to add officers on Facebook before and inmates get Facebook and all of that stuff that they have access to and family members. So, it [enhancing privacy] was just safer that way.” P308 explains that although their “name’s out there a bit more” because they have not changed their name online, they are “not really someone that posts every day or anything like that,” which is another strategy they employ to remain private. The privacy strategies expressed by our COs reflects those of police officers as mentioned above, but applying to both is the fact that regardless of the strategies taken, including not using social media at all, “they are still implicated when their peers post information about them online” (Trottier, 2012, p. 422). For police, the synoptic gaze relates to wider publics with smartphones, while for COs the concerns rest with PWAI being able to surveil not only themselves but their social networks, especially family members.
Discussion
In this article, we build on the more widespread issue of the new visibility of prison work related to general social media adoption among government employees. Research here often centers on police, the role “citizen journalists” play in distributing images of police (picture and video) across social network sites, and the implications of this for police legitimacy, reputation, and community relations (Goldsmith, 2010, 2015). As with police (e.g., Goldsmith, 2015; Lee & McGovern, 2013), social media provides correctional services with new opportunities for public outreach and communication, but also risks. Unlike the more public-facing police, however, publicly circulated social media posts may act to invade the privacy of COs or institutional security, revealing a Goffmanian backstage which may be acidic toward the ability of correctional services to maintain an official discourse of rehabilitation and equitable treatment. Prisons are securitized environments with surveillance directed largely at PWAI but also arguably inadvertently staff themselves, through technologies such as CCTV, the prison architecture and physical features, as well as CO co-present monitoring (Allard et al., 2008; Johnston, 2000). At the same time, prisons are far from total institutions (Farrington, 1992; Goffman, 1961/2017), with new internet-connected technologies—including phones used by PWAI to potentially post media of COs while on the job—introducing new synoptic risks related to sousveillance. Unlike with police, research on sousveillance directed at COs in prisons is arguably not yet in its infancy.
Our findings show COs expressing self-awareness of themselves as public representatives and the importance of prudential use of social media. At the same time, they express uncertainty regarding the precise policies in place at CSC regarding appropriate social media use, though there is the general impression from COs that CSC requires prudential use. Despite these uncertainties COs raised several strategies for managing a prudential online presence, either by remaining offline altogether, or managing social media accounts carefully. Significantly, prudentialism was not based solely on considerations of CSC policies, but also particular vulnerabilities related to prison work—vulnerabilities building on preexisting tensions at various levels, each able to shape mental health and overall wellness. For instance, our interviews revealed concerns over COs’ synoptic vulnerability in relation to PWAI use of social media—a new iteration of the risks facing COs during their daily interactions with PWAI. Despite the strategies COs referred to taking to protect their privacy, they still did not express a greater sense of agency, instead concerns were apparent toward how PWAI may still be able to find their loved ones when conducting internet searches. At the same time, vulnerabilities are expressed in relation to management as well as the public in general. While relatively infrequent, some COs also mentioned the productive potential of social media use by CSC to facilitate communication with COs as well as helping foster positive impressions of prisons and prison work to public audiences. This work would go far to bring to the foreground the backstage of prison work, helping also to displace negative media narratives. Knowing about perceptions of COs and uses of social media helps communications officials better plan for strategies to better reflect the organization.
These developments are occurring under wider discussions about government and public servants’ use of social media, and the tensions between top down, hierarchical and bottom up, informal engagement. Grube (2017) notes how public servants are being encouraged to use social media to reach out to the public—to be entrepreneurial communicators—and yet at the same time to be hyper-vigilant about not saying anything that might compromise the public service or the government. (p. 79)
Of course, COs are unique in terms of their role as public servants, as they work in a highly securitized environment. CSC policies are likely linked to the guidance from the Treasury Board of Canada Secretariat, which Grube (2017) summarizes as “support[ing] the use of social media by public servants, but in relatively risk-averse ways” (p. 84). From CSC’s perspective, fostering prudential use of social media among COs and other staff is essential, considering “how the social disapproval stemming from increased social media attention significantly shapes organizational reputation” (Karunakaran et al., 2022, p. 173). Yet our interviews indicate the need for more communication to COs regarding CSC policies and expectations, and consultations which include how best CSC can harness their social media presence—both internally and externally—in productive ways.
Perhaps CSC’s greater active adoption and transparency of communications via social media fails to produce the potential of informal, community engagement, and rather reinscribe social control. Lee and McGovern (2013), observing similar implications for policing and social media, report, All this might suggest that the relationship between police and the media has shifted from one that has been described as symbiosis . . . to an asymmetrical relationship in favour of the police . . . What we might be observing is a continuum of a set of power relations under changing sociocultural, political and technical conditions rather than a significant rupture or overall change in the balance of, or ability to, exercise power. (p. 106)
Relatedly, greater adoption of social media use by CSC may only serve to buttress their “appearance of effectiveness” (Manning, 1997, p. 32; see also Mawby, 2002) or “fantastical authenticity” (Hurley, 2019).
With this research being a starting point, further studies are needed examining perceptions regarding social media use and actual practices among COs. Longitudinal studies are needed exploring how attitudes and practices may change from recruitment throughout a CO’s career, and whether changes in seniority and rank impact this. Further exploration of the impacts of smartphones (and drones) in prisons is warranted and how such links up to wider studies on CO mental health and well-being, especially in relation to risks regarding weapons and drugs. Studies with correctional officials managing official CSC accounts may also illuminate perspectives regarding existing policies and possibilities for new directions. Likely, there are cases where COs were reprimanded for friending present and former PWAI, who were charged with serious or violent offenses (see Goldsmith, 2015, pp. 261–262). Our ongoing research with COs is also revealing high degrees of agreement that adding PWAI to social media accounts, including ex-prisoners, is inappropriate. Yet there should be further discussion about potential benefits for informal communication and rapport in the case of social media connections between COs and ex-prisoners. COs often develop professional relations with PWAI who come to know them well and see beyond their criminal charges—these are after all persons who are incarcerated, many of whom will be released into their communities. Collectively, these studies would help illuminate the work COs do in prisons, still so often out of sight from the public.
Conclusion
Overall, in this article, we drew from interviews (n = 159) with Canadian federal COs to unpack their interpretations of their social media policies and their experiences with social media. Our framework, the synoptic mode of surveillance and public visibility, explicated how COs feel observed by the many but without recourse to correct the discourse around their actions or those of their employer, which, perhaps as a latent consequence, impedes their ability to defend their positioning or to explain the reasons behind their positioning. To summarize, we examined COs awareness of CSC social media-related policies, their encounters with challenges online and precautions taken to ensure their privacy as well as that of their loved ones. COs expressed vulnerabilities in online spaces, including because of their role as agents of public safety. Thus, we put forth the consideration that policies set by CSC around social media use must continue to be communicated to officers after their initial training, as well as the rationalization behind the policies.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: Canadian Institutes of Health Research, Grant/Award Numbers: 411 385 (31 January 2019), 411 387 (31 January 2019), 422 567 (27 May 2019), 440 140 (31 March 2020); Correctional Service Canada and the Union of Canadian Correctional Officers (UCCO-SACC-CSN).
Ethical Approval
We attained research ethics approval from the Research Ethics Board of the Memorial University of Newfoundland (File No. 20190481).
