After the signing of the Declaration of Independence, new Americans had an ideology, a moral compass, to guide them in the business of empire-building. Freedom of choice, religion, the right to work and to participate in the fledgling democracy led the U.S. to call into question the legitimacy of European criminal institutions and treatment. Should life and death be in the hands of one, or even a few persons? The United States was not a monarchy or a dictatorship, as this interfered with the freedoms fought for in the new republic. Instead, the principle of proportionality was adopted early on, forcing prisoners to pay for their crimes to society with their time rather than their lives. In 1786, lawmakers began to experiment with deterrence theory, which favored a system of hard convict labor over that of capital punishment (33). The ensuing "wheelbarrow men" as the laboring convicts were dubbed, were quickly deemed "weak, failing, unrepublican and ugly" (35). As criticism and derision against the public spectacle of the wheelbarrow men intensified, the "house of repentance," today's penitentiary, came into view (36). The goal was not to goad prisoners into further criminal acts (as the mockery of the wheelbarrow men proved most useful for), but to compel a convict to submit to "soul surgery" and examine the consequences of previous decisions, while simultaneously keeping the general public at bay and in the dark as to what conditions convicts were subjected to within prison walls.
The penitentiary system was more humane than its predecessor, but negligible as to if it was more ethical or efficacious. Although servitude - involuntary or otherwise - was progressively frowned upon over the course of the nineteenth century, state government began to push hard, productive labor after 1830, which led to the contract prison labor system, under which convict labor was sold to private interests (54). Nonetheless, keepers and prison officials were keen to recognize a "relationship of dependency" (72) between convict and personnel. It behooved officials to treat convicts with dignity and respect. This realization paved the way for the field of penology to flourish during the Gilded Age and the early Progressive era, up to the country's decision to enter the Great War in 1917. The new convict was a "man" and socialized (gendered) to be a better man upon release. At times, this path of reformation was impeded by private interests, or public perception. It was always hindered by the racist and sexist notions of the eras, as women and blacks were routinely excluded from - or extensively delayed the benefits of - reform by custom and law.
In connecting this text with the larger themes of citizenship and freedom from this semester's canon of historiography, McLennan skillfully portrays the convict as an "other" much like the enslaved or freed black American, whose livelihood, and democratic potential was in the hands of (other) white men. Several times she discusses the abolition of the contract prison labor system, or of socializing convicts to eventually fit the ideal of manhood, much in the way historians have pieced together white male perceptions of the black experience up to and beyond Emancipation. This verbiage necessitates a deeper read of the 13th, 14th and 15th Amendments, as convicts are explicitly excluded from being full citizens, having the right to vote, and being free from slavery by any other name. This denial of democracy underscores the "other-ing" of convicts as now their history can be examined with methods similar to those used to flesh out the black experience in America.
McLennan focuses on the New York state penal system throughout the text, as New York was primed for reform with the established prisons at Auburn, Clinton and Sing Sing, as well as the melodrama of Tammany Hall, a New York political organization that produced several influential politicians who in turn produced several influential wardens. Outside of New York, McLennan tells of the status of prisons in other industrial states north of the Mason-Dixon line. This strengthens her narrative that hard, productive labor in industrial sectors propelled penal reforms. While Southern carceral patterns are introduced, they are not given the same exposure in McLennan's book. By including Southern penal institutions, McLennan would have been forced to step away from America's Industrial Revolution and center her research on the racism and sexism that plagued the South as evidenced in last week's read on the "problem South." For what the South lacked in legal, economic, social and public health advances, one can imagine McLennan's book as a very different text had Southern penal history been a larger part.
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| Despite America's history of enslavement of African Americans, in the 21st century Black prisoners in the Deep South were forced to pick cotton on former plantations or face disciplinary punishment. The 13th Amenment's prohibition on slavery expressly does not apply to incarcerated people. Pictured, prisoners at Parchman State Prison in Mississippi in 1996. (source: Twitter on 15 April 2015) |
McLennan's book was extremely easy to read, although I admit to tiring of the word "crisis" used redundantly throughout. In the Acknowledgments, McLennan states that the book "originated as a doctoral dissertation and....matured as a book manuscript" (xi) before, over some time, it was published. My only critique is that the book lacks continuity, as within each chapter, I felt the need to wade through the redundant terms and information before getting to the argument at hand. I could tell that the author had developed this tome over time and as independent pieces; well done in that regard. She left no stone unturned in her patient dissection of this long history. McLennan is precise, thorough and efficient in her wrtiing. Her perspective is hers alone and represents a unique voice in the scholarship on penological reform in industrial America.
~ dls
