Children in Custody

Front matter

Anglo-Russian Perspectives

Mary McAuley в © wx S B U ht w

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Index

124 152

191 216 236 239 246

List of Illustrations

Figures

1 Under-18s in detention, various countries 21 2 Young people in detention, Russia, 1993-2008 22 3 Under-18s in custody, England and Wales, 1991-2008 23 4 Age of criminal responsibility, various countries 29 5 Convictions (14-17-year-olds) for violent crime,

Russia, 1997-2004 37 6 Prison and crime rates of the Nordic countries 39 7 Fate of 14—17-year-olds identified by police in relation

to a criminal offence, Russia, 1993—2005 97 8 Sentences imposed upon 14—17-year-olds,

Russia, 1997—2005 129 9 Length of custodial sentences for 14—17-year-olds, Russia,

1997—2004 136 10 Cautions and sentences of 10—17-year-olds, England

and Wales, 1994-2007 160 11 Sentences of 10—17-year-olds, England and Wales,

1994—2006 161 12 Numbers of 15-17-year-olds in custody,

various countries, 2002— 2006 202

Photographs

1 Boys in colony yard, Russia 2 2 Girls in colony yard, Russia 3 Boy (model) in YOI cell, England 5 4 Boys in colony hall, Russia 18 5 Boys (models) in YOI gym, England 19 6 Boy and prison officer, Russia 133 7 Boys practising in colony yard, Russia 134 8 Boys marching and singing in colony yard, Russia 138 9 Boys in colony classroom, Russia 139 10 Girlin colony hall, Russia 140 11 Boys (models) in YOI workshop, England 166 vii

Preface

In 2006 I wrote a book, Children in Prison, for those in Russia ‘who wish to find a better way to treat their young offenders'. The book, now published in Moscow, is intended for policy-makers, professionals, journalists and the general public.

The Russian story allows us to see how the political environment, attitudes to youth crime and to criminal justice, and the relationship between state and society have interacted to influence the treatment of young offenders. And, in their turn, the twists and turns in policy towards youth illuminate the extraordinary history of Russia in the twentieth century, and the role of key actors, be they individuals, ideas or institutions. It is a tale to attract the attention of all with an interest in Russia in the twentieth century and of those, in particular, who wish to understand the making of social policy in Russia today.

But if this is a story worth bringing before an English-speaking readership in its own right, why make it part of a revised and expanded version, a comparative study with England and Wales?? The answer is twofold. Russia and England and Wales, different in so many ways, are two of the worst offenders in Europe as regards the imprisonment of children. Despite their very different histories, their very different societies, political and legal systems, Russia and England and Wales stand out, among their European colleagues as favouring a punitive approach to young law-breakers. Why is this so? A comparison allows us to highlight the factors that are responsible for the making of ‘punitive’ policy in the two societies. But, as important, by placing Russian and English policies in a European context, we can see how their European neighbours manage to place far fewer children behind bars. We can identify the issues that have to be addressed, if a more humane approach towards children is to be adopted, issues that are salient not only for today's policy-makers in England and Wales, Russia and North America, but for all who are concerned with the treatment of children. I had not expected to find our politicians quite so unenlightened, and I came to realize how little most of us know about the way we treat young law-breakers in our own countries.

The origins of the book lie in the experience gained from working during 1996-2002 for the Ford Foundation, based in Moscow, developing a programme of support for human rights and legal reform in Russia. This viii CHILDREN IN CUSTODY involved identifying local talent, people who have the ideas, commitment and ability to make a lasting improvement in the life of their society. It included support for organizations or projects connected with penal reform — the NGO Moscow Center for Prison Reform, led by Valeri Abramkin, a small grants programme run by Alla Pokras of International Penal Reform, Krasnoyarsk State University's legal clinic for prisoners spearheaded by Professor Alexander Gorelik and Alexander Nazarov, the work of INDEM on the release of young offenders — and, rather differently, the 1999 census of the remand centres and prison population under the Ministry of Justice, led by Professor Alexander Mikhlin, and the Stalker human rights film festivals in the regions, organized by Igor Stepanov, which included visits to penal institutions. Through these organizations I began to learn about the problems and the issues, to attend round tables, and conferences, and to visit the prison colonies, remand centres and special schools. Between 1998 and 2004 I visited perhaps a dozen closed institutions in places as far distant from each other as St Petersburg and Krasnoyarsk in Siberia.

In 2002 I left the Foundation and returned to London. What now? Perhaps Icould write something useful? The irrational and cruel practice of isolating and locking up children, in whatever country, nagged at my conscience. I was fortunate to be welcomed as an associate by the International Centre for Prison Studies, King's College London. My particular thanks to Vivien Stern and Andrew Coyle who took me in, and to Rob Allen, the present director. The members of ICPS have a wealth of experience of prisons, and are engaged in projects involving prison reform worldwide, including partnership projects between UK and Russian prisons. I am grateful to all at ICPS for help and advice. I began to read, to think, to visit young offender institutions in England and Northern Ireland (four in all) and to contrast their practices with those in the colonies. I started to analyze the Russian experience, and that of other countries. I had not expected to find the young offenders, in Russia and in England, talking so similar a language. There are differences between them, of course, but the fears, anxieties and assessment ofthe effects of custody are common property. The professionals, the colony and prison staff who work with the children in Russia or in England talk a language that crosses national boundaries despite the differences between the two societies and their politics.

All translations from Russian sources are mine, except for the excerpt from Kalinin's speech (ch.4). I have retained the original Russian Cyrillic, both in

PREFACE ix the Bibliography and in references, for publications in the Russian language. Since these publications will only be of interest to the reader who knows Russian, there is no sense in providing transliterations. However, when I refer to a Russian author in the text, I give his or her name in transliteration to enable the reader to follow the account without stumbling. Several of the websites, referenced and easily accessible, have an English-language page that the non-Russian reader can consult.

The excerpts from the Russian children's essays (Introduction, and chapters 4 and 5) are taken from essay-writing competitions organized by Russian penal reform organizations over a number of years (and referenced in the Bibliography). All quotations/commentary by Russian criminal justice officials or those who work with young children, unless stated otherwise, and the children’s answers to the question ‘What is a crime?’, are from interviews conducted in March-April 2004 by sociologists from St Petersburg, Saratov, Ulyanovsk and Moscow. The interviews constituted part of a research project on attitudes to youth crime and the treatment of young offenders. The project, proposed initially by the author, and led by the St Petersburg Centre for Independent Social Research, was planned and implemented by sociologists and statisticians from the four cities. The Ford Foundation and the FCO, London, contributed research funding. The sociologists looked at attitudes of three different groups: first, professionals who work with young people (school teachers, police, judges, advocates, staff from closed schools, penalinstitutions, and from local authority commissions on juvenile affairs); second, young people themselves, including both ‘law-abiding' and young offenders; and third, the adult population.? Preliminary results of the research project were discussed at seminars attended by representatives of the different criminal justice and children's agencies in the four cities, and have been published in Общество и преступность несовершеннолетних / Под ред. Л. Ежова, M. Маколи. СПБ: Центр независимых социологических исследований, 2007. Some of the data, and analysis, used here in chapters 5 and 7 has appeared in Mary McAuley and Kenneth I. Macdonald, *Russia and Youth Crime: A Comparative Study of Attitudes and their Implications', British Journal of Criminology 47 (2007): 2-22.

The quotations from young inmates, prison staff and other professionals working with young offenders in English institutions, unless otherwise cited, are from interviews conducted by Barry Goldson in 2001-2 (see Goldson x CHILDREN IN CUSTODY

2002 in the Bibliography). Where confusion might arise over whether the respondent is from Russia or England, I include ‘Russ’ or ‘Eng’. In general this is not needed, and would overburden the text, as would page references for all the quotations. Throughout I have refrained from identifying a young offender institution by name. This was a condition for Goldson's research, and I copy it here. Where an author (Neustatter) quotes the name of an institution, I repeat it. I have included the regions for the Russian colonies from which the children's essays come because this is already published material.

The photographs in the Russian penal colonies were taken in 1999—2001 by Sergei Sayapin and Liudmila Alpern in their capacity as representatives of Russian human rights organizations, working on penal reform. They are reproduced here with their permission. The use of photographs to bring issues before the general public, in exhibitions or publications, is acceptable in Russia. Legal restrictions make it very difficult to provide English or Welsh photographs. To provide a sense of contrasts between custodial regimes we can only use (English) photographs featuring models. These are included courtesy of the Youth Justice Board.

Many, apart from those already mentioned, have given time to answer my questions, to comment, and suggest newideas. I am grateful to Nikolai Shilov, chair of the Vasileostrovskii district court, St Petersburg; to Oleg Zykov and Nodari Khananashvili of NAN; Rustem Maksudov of the Centre for Judicial and Legal Reform; Valeri Abramkin ofthe Moscow Center for Prison Reform; Boris Altshuler of The Rights of the Child; and Mariya Razumovskaya of Citizens Watch. Also to V.S. Chernobrovkin, chair of the Commission for Juvenile Affairs and Children's Rights of Saratov region; Aleksei Golovan, Ombudsman for Children, Moscow; and Tatyana Margolina, Commissioner for Human Rights, Perm region. My thanks go too to professors A.S. Avtonomov, L. I. Belyaeva, Ya. I. Gilinskii, G.I. Zabryanskii, A.S. Pashin, S.P. Peregudov and V. A. Utkin. Also to the sociologists who undertook the survey research project and, in particular, to Marina Goloviznina of the European University at St Petersburg and to Liubov Yezhova of the Centre for Independent Social Research, St Petersburg. And to Rob Allen, Andrew Coyle, Jane Henderson, Judith Pallot and Andrew Wilson who commented on earlier drafts, and offered corrections.

PREFACE xi

Finally I am grateful for the time given by staff of the colonies and secure institutions in Russia, England, and Northern Ireland, from governors to staff, to discuss both practical and long-term issues raised by locking up young people.

London, 2008

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Introduction

Russia and England: Two Outliers in Europe

Not all the children in our society become great violinists or outstanding ballerinas; some, who are discarded by society, end up with us, and that's dreadful. I wish that society would recognize they are not shipped to us from Mars, but that they are our children and this is our society. Our future. It would be great, if everyone understood that.

Deputy governor, juvenile colony, Russia?

The first children's penal colony I visited in Russia was one of the bad ones. The boys were dirty, they milled around in a mud-baked sports yard, smoking, bored out of their minds. Those who were lucky enough to be ordered into the shabby hall to watch a film sat, many with vacant eyes, some with a desperately vulnerable look. The colony had no workshops. Some of the boys were in the damp, cold barracks, again idling away the time. Thirty to forty iron bedsteads stood close together, double-tiered, each with its neatly folded bedclothes, and each with a tag that states the boy's name, article from the Criminal Code and length of sentence. ‘How long is your sentence, and what for?’ I asked a 15-year-old. ‘Five years, for stealing a piece of electric cable, he answered, before breaking into tears, covering his face with his denim cap. An older boy, standing by, said calmly ‘there’s no one here who doesn't cry at some time’. As we were leaving, the order to line up came and, driving away, we could hear the stamping feet of the boys, marching, and the chorus of ragged raucous voices.

In Russia the age of criminal responsibility is 14 for serious crimes, 16 for less serious. A variety of secure institutions exists to house children who have broken the law, both those who are too young to be tried for a criminal offence, and those who are awaiting trial or sentenced to custody. Children aged between 11 and 18 may, by a court order, be detained in a Centre for the Temporary Holding of Juveniles, under police jurisdiction, for up to 45 days; those under the age of 14 may then be sent (by a judge) to a special secure school for a period of up to three years; older children whose offences do not fall under the Criminal Code may be sent to a secure Technical School.

Boys in colony yard, Russia

Children aged 14 and above who are detained on remand while awaiting trial or, following sentencing, await transport to a colony, are held in ‘investigative isolation’ centres (SIZO). These, run by the Prison Service, are best described as local prisons, and will have a separate unit for juveniles. A young person sentenced to custody (aged 15—17) will serve his or her sentence in an 'educational colony' (vospitatelnaya koloniya?), a secure institution, often in an isolated locality, far from local transport, maybe in the same region, maybe hundreds or even thousands of miles from home. Those whose sentence has not been completed when they reach the age of 18 may be allowed to stay, until they reach the age of 21. These are the juvenile (penal) colonies. Not every region has one for children (and a region in Russia may be the size of the UK), and there are only three in the whole country for girls. In this book I focus on the use of detention for those charged with or sentenced for a criminal offence.?

In England and Wales the age of criminal responsibility is 10. There are no separate institutions for those held on remand, awaiting trial; they spend their time in the same (juvenile) institutions as those convicted. Very few 10—12-year-olds receive custodial sentences but both boys and girls up to age

Girls in colony yard, Russia of 16 may be placed in a Secure Children's Home, run by the local authority. Here they will join those who have not been convicted of an offence but for their own safety or welfare been placed in a secure institution. Boys, between the age of 15 and 17, may be sentenced to serve time in one of the four (new) Secure Training Centres (STC), run by private operators, or in a closed Young Offender Institution (YOI), run by the Prison Service for those between the age of 15 and 18 and/or for those aged 18—20.* The YOIs may be old prisons or new facilities, they are mostly in towns, and easily accessible by public transport. Girls under the age of 17 may be sentenced to an STC; those aged 16 and above will serve a custodial sentence in a women’s prison, but housed in a separate unit.

Both in Russia and in England and Wales, when their inmates are children or even 18—20-year-olds, we now prefer to find other names than ‘prison’ for institutions with high perimeter walls, topped with rolls of wire, with high security entry and exit systems — places isolated from the outside world where children are locked up, either in small cells or in barracks until an external authority decides they should be allowed back into society. The institutions may or may not have a sports hall, workshops and library; rules on visits may vary greatly. But everywhere there will be day-in, day-out repetitive routines, punishment cells, warders, and links between inmates and the world outside will be monitored — all the accoutrements of institutions which, when they house adults, we have no hesitation in referring to as ‘prisons’. If a prison is a place where someone is locked up, while awaiting or serving a sentence in isolation from society, then the colonies and SIZOs, the STCs and YOIs are as much prisons as are those that house adults and (in England) young girls. The 'secure' institutions for younger children may not be that different. While I visited a variety of secure institutions, in localities across Russia, in the main my visits were to the colonies, several for boys, and one for girls. All were better than the first, but the same questions continued to haunt me. What is the system that sends them to spend, sometimes years, behind bars, hundreds of miles from home? And what happens to them afterwards?

Even a colony with facilities and a more enlightened governor, I came to realize, cannot counter the negative consequences, in the great majority of cases, of locking up children. The same is true in England and Wales. What had I expected to find on my first visit to a Young Offender Institution in England? Of course it would be different from a Russian colony, but how different? Now, just as in Russia, YOIs in England differ, and in this case too the first I visited was one of the most depressing. Perhaps the state of shock in which I left the institution — on the one hand everything was so different, on the other sadly similar — was accentuated by its size, by its holding nearly a thousand boys, both those on remand and those serving sentences, short and long, and by the matter-of-fact statement by an officer that recidivism runs at 80 per cent. The high walls with their wire topping were better built, everything rather smarter and tidier, but the checks and security systems were very familiar. Onlythe notices were different — frequent warnings that racial discrimination was not tolerated here. The prison officers were in civvies, no one seemed to have a truncheon. There was grass, and flowerbeds, and recently built brick units, each with a spacious communal area, and a billiard table. A few boys, in track suits, were doing some mopping, and cleaning. A new entrant was sitting on a couch going through his dossier with a receiving officer. So far, so good, I thought, but when the prison officer unlocked a cell, recently vacated by the boy who had gone to court, I felt sick at heart. A cream-coloured compartment, with a bed, lavatory, basin, a small table, everything fixed in such a way that the inhabitant could not do himself harm; that he could not, in effect, do anything. I tried to imagine a 15-, 16-, 17-year-old locked

Boy (model) in YOI cell, England in here, from evening to morning, and again for much of the day. Someone who had never slept in a room on his own. For those on remand (and they do not know how long they will be here — it may be days, it may be months) the cell remains bare.

I’m 15 and most of the time I'm locked in my cell 'cos there's no place in education for me and they've got nowhere else to put me. (Boy aged 15)

There's a limit to what you can have in your cell. You can have more in your cell when you are sentenced. You can't have any posters. I can't even have a picture that my little sister drew for me. (Boy aged 16)

It drags the time. I’ve got nothing to do but think when I'm on bang-up. No radio and I can't read. (Boy aged 16)5

The cell for a convicted offender may well have posters, photos, a TV, video player, all aimed at filling the time. Some cells are single, some double. Meals are eaten in isolation, back in the cells. Why? So the staff can have proper meal breaks. And once the boys are locked in for the night, the staff can go home.

You don't know who is watching you, plus you've got your pad mate. You don't know who he is or what he is. Basically you just feel like there's lots of things running through your head. You can't sleep. You just think. You wonder ‘Am I going to get beat up?’ ‘Am I going to get killed?’ There was loads of shouting out of the windows. I just didn’t know what to do. I didn’t even speak with my pad mate. I was too frightened. (Boy aged 16)

It happens every night at the windows — people shouting at each other, and stress heads banging on the pipes. Everyone running their mouths off at the windows and that. ‘Window warriors’ they call them. (Boy aged 16)

It’s going on all the time — threatening you, shouting things, calling your mum names. There’s nothing you can do about it. You just have to cope with it. I don’t know how I do, you just do. My mate was hammered in the showers. When the screws asked him what was wrong he said he fell over. If he had told the truth, he would have got hammered again. Most of the staff are all right but some either ignore you or try to wind you up. They swear at us and that, and call us names, and they threaten to drag us down to the block... (Boy aged 15)

I found myself wondering how even a well-balanced, resourceful teenager could survive the anxiety, isolation and boredom, and the majority of the kids who find themselves held on remand or sentenced to custody are not well-balanced children with supportive families outside.

To begin to understand what is happening, we need to know more about the children who find themselves behind bars. Among those in the Russian colonies there are strong and weak personalities, able children and those with severe learning difficulties or psychological disorders (perhaps a third of all inmates), those guilty of murder and those who have stolen to feed their brothers or sisters. A high percentage come from broken homes, maybe with alcoholic parents. Boys outnumber girls by nine to one. The youngest are 15 and the oldest, who may have remained in the colony to finish a sentence rather than transferring to an adult colony at age eighteen, may be 20.

Just as their Russian counterparts, the children who are locked up in England and Wales come disproportionately from among the most vulnerable and damaged, and from among those with inadequate families. A comprehensive survey of the inmates of 21 YOIs during 2001-3 found that a third of the boys and more than 40 per cent of the girls had previously spent time in a foster home or in care (Young People in Ргіѕоп).° Further studies have suggested that approximately half of those in custody will have come before welfare agencies, 80 per cent or more excluded from school, and, in the governors' estimation, roughly 75 per cent will be on drugs (Goldson 2006; Neustatter 2002).

Most young people received into prison custody will be suffering from a diagnosable mental disorder. ... They will have left school well before the age of 16 with no qualifications. Most will have grown up in poor households. Estimates vary but between one third and a half will have spent time in local authority care prior to custody and many will have slept rough. Young prisoners are much more likely than young people in the community to have used illegal drugs, engaged in hazardous drinking, become early parents and to have attempted suicide. Up to 30 per cent of young women in custody report having been sexually abused in childhood and many young offenders will have experienced untimely bereavement. These are teenagers on the margins. And prison will exclude them still further. (Lyon 2003: 28-9)

Essays written by the Russian children give us a sense of the world from which they come, of their different personalities, and of howthey respond to life behind bars.” We do not have essays written by the English children, but from their conversations with interviewers we see evidence of similar backgrounds and sentiments. We start with excerpts from the Russian essays.

I didn’t manage to finish 9th grade because they locked me up, that is they arrested me. I’m serving time under clause 3, article 113 of the Criminal Code (grievous bodily harm): I hit a man who had got into my grandmother’s flat, with a hammer. He stole her TV, player and iron. She’s a pensioner and she can’t replace these things. Work and work, and you can’t keep what’s yours. When I knew who had stolen them, I went and asked him to return the things. But he refused, said the things had already been sold. But not to whom. When I was leaving, he grabbed me and started to strangle me. There wasn't anything I could use except the hammer. I hit him much harder than I had expected. I honestly didn't want it to happen.

Now I blame myself very much, you see it wasn't only I who got sent down but also my mum. She tried to cover up for me but it didn't work. They convicted her for false testimony. I got five years and one month. I’ve still got a long time to serve, I won't be included in the amnesty. ... I haven't got a father, my grandmother brought me up. My mother lived far away. She earned money and sent it to us. ... I've a sister in Cheboksar but she doesn't write; it looks as though I don't mean anything to her. I believe that some day some one will help me to survive ... but all the same there's such a feeling of hurt and disappointment: other girls, like me, have someone visit them, but no one comes to visit me. ... ГИ try to get though this and to survive. Here life is a matter of survival, if you cope you survive, if you don't you die. (Lena, Ryazanskaya VK)

If some blame themselves for committing a crime, others are more concerned that they have been too harshly sentenced.

Well, I don't really know but I didn't mean to end up here, that is I didn't really understand what was happening when I knifed a kid, they gave me article 3 and 2, and I think that this is not right. I had a tough childhood, at 13 I was put into a children's home, and at 16 they took me out on 16 February. I want to be freed as soon as possible and never get put back in prison, because you are separated from society, and that's the worst punishment of all. I’ve two brothers, one is Kostya, the other Dima. Kostya was 20 on 7th October but unfortunately he's in prison no. 20, but everything is OK with Dima, he lives with mother, I was living with Kostya, until they put him behind bars, he was looking after me. I was going to school, everything was all right, and then it all fell apart, and now we are both locked up, I want to ask a big favour of you, I want to apply for a pardon, could you help me write it, I want to do it after new year. Well, that's about all. I miss my brother and home an awful lot. Thanks in advance. (Yakov, Perm)

Although among the children are those who have committed murder, grievous bodily harm, or armed robbery, the majority are there for theft. A second offence, even if minor in terms of value, or theft committed with others (thus qualifying as a group crime) may well produce a sentence of detention.

Only 19 of those in the colony are here for serious crimes related to murder, grievous bodily harm. Twenty-four are here for rape. The remaining 220 (that's 82 per cent) have convictions for stealing private or state property. More often than not the damage was small. They broke into a kiosk, took sweets, wine, drank it and were caught. One stole a bike from a cellar. One stole 5 rabbits from his grandfather. The grandfather reported him to the police. Now he wants the boy released, but the court has already passed sentence. (Interview with governor of Bryansk colony, 1999, JIT 2001: 24)

My mother is serving a sentence in Novgorod region, they arrested her on 3 December 1998. They gave her 3 years and 6 months. And they put my brothers and sister in a hospital in Segezh. They did this because they didn't want to put them into a children's home while mother was awaiting trial. They thought she'd be given a suspended sentence. But when she was sentenced, they put them in a children's home.

Counting me, my mother has seven children. I’ve been convicted under article 158 (theft); I broke into a shop and stole things to eat. And when in the morning I came home and told mother that I had broken into a shop, she was very upset and beat me. But I said to her, don't hit me, I did it for my brothers and sister. I can't bear to see my little sister and brothers so hungry, and that day we hadn't eaten anything except water from the tap, and water doesn't fill you up at all.