The Carceral Universal and the Prison Particular

Prisoners’ Rights, Resistance, and the Law in Postwar Texas Prisons

Toward a History of Sexual Violence behind Bars

Objective-This retrospective cohort study examined the association between co-occurring serious mental illness and substance use disorders and parole revocation among inmates from the Texas Department of Criminal Justice, the nation's largest state prison system. Methods-The study population included all 8,149 inmates who were released under parole supervision between September 1, 2006, and November 31, 2006.An electronic database was used to identify inmates whose parole was revoked within 12 months of their release.The independent risk of parole revocation attributable to psychiatric disorders, substance use disorders, and other covariates was assessed with logistic regression analysis.Results-Parolees with a dual diagnosis of a major psychiatric disorder (major depressive disorder, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, or other psychotic disorder) and a substance use disorder had a substantially increased risk of having their parole revoked because of either a technical violation (adjusted odds ratio [OR]=1.7,95% confidence interval [CI]=1.4-2.4) or commission of a new criminal offense (OR=2.8,95% CI=1.7-4.5) in the 12 months after their release.However, parolees with a diagnosis of either a major psychiatric disorder alone or a substance use disorder alone demonstrated no such increased risk.Conclusions-These findings highlight the need for future investigations of specific social, behavioral, and other factors that underlie higher rates of parole revocation among individuals with co-occurring serious mental illness and substance use disorders.Over the past four decades the widespread deinstitutionalization of persons with serious mental illness (1-3), the increase in drug-related arrests (4,5), and the reduction of community-based mental health care (1,2) have resulted in a substantial overrepresentation of persons with serious mental illness in the U.S. correctional system (1,2,6).Approximately 10% to 20% of U.S. prison inmates are estimated to have an axis I major mental disorder of thought or mood, such as major depressive disorder, bipolar disorder, or schizophrenia (7-12).Moreover, a majority of inmates with serious mental illness have a comorbid substance use disorder (7,(12)(13)(14)(15).A number of investigations have examined predictors of recidivism among released inmates (16)(17)(18)(19).Although results of these studies-conducted throughout a variety of criminal justice

Beyond the Metaphor of Slavery

Reviewed by: We Are Not Slaves: State Violence, Coerced Labor, and Prisoners' Rights in Postwar America by Robert T. Chase Paul M. Lucko We Are Not Slaves: State Violence, Coerced Labor, and Prisoners' Rights in Postwar America. By Robert T. Chase. (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2020. Pp. 544. Illustrations, notes, bibliography, index.) A rich body of scholarship has emerged in recent years that examines the historical roots of mass incarceration in this country. Robert Chase's We Are Not Slaves joins Robert Perkinson's Texas Tough (Metropolitan, 2010) and Ethan Blue's Doing Time in the Depression (New York University Press, 2012) as the latest in a genre of critical works that focus on Texas prisons that evolved from post-bellum slave plantations to modern military style disciplinary units. Different from other Texas prison studies, We Are Not Slaves considers the issue of sexuality within a total institution. Partly as a result of widespread negative publicity surrounding homosexual "perversion" (49) among state prisoners during the 1940s, the institution's governing board [End Page 240] hired a new director, O. B. Ellis, who, with increased legislative appropriations, constructed cells in place of crude dormitories, or "tanks," on the vast prison agricultural lands. Ellis also embarked upon an ambitious reform program that transformed the long-neglected penal plantations into one of the state's premier agribusiness entities. Ellis and his successor, George Beto, proved especially adept at promoting Texas prisons as symbols of a modern South. Ironically, however, instead of preventing homosexual behavior, the cell blocks increasingly fell under the control of primarily White trusty prisoners, known as "building tenders," who were permitted to supervise and physically punish other prisoners and engage in a "sex trade [that] provided building tenders the unofficial . . . power to rape other prisoners and buy and sell other prisoners' bodies" (125) through human trafficking. Much of the prisoners' rights litigation that culminated in the Ruiz v. Estelle case, which declared that the Texas prison system violated inmates' constitutional rights, sought to curb the power of the male building tenders and a lesser number of female key girls and row tenders. While other studies have attributed the success of Ruiz anda national prisoners' rights movement to the willingness of federal judges to abandon a long-standing "hands-off" approach to such lawsuits, Chase places the prisoners, who courageously challenged brutal and vindictive administrators, at the forefront of the prison reform movement. Inspired by nationwide social movements both inside and outside of prison walls beginning in the 1960s, ethnically diverse coalitions persisted until Federal Judge William Wayne Justice ruled in 1980 that the total conditions of confinement in Texas correctional facilities constituted cruel and unusual punishment. Although We Are Not Slaves devotes considerable space to David Ruiz and Fred Cruz, Chase also elevates lesser known prisoners, such as Martha Quinlan, Allen Lamar, Johnny Swift, Salvador Gonzales, Frank Leahy, Eddie Ward, Lee Otis John-son, Ray Hill, Al Slaton, and Lawrence Pope, to a heroic status for their contributions to the movement that toppled the system of "modern day slavery" (299). The book includes copious endnotes and a deep bibliography containing an extensive list of interviews that Chase and other researchers conducted with participants in the Texas prisoners' movement. While the author's title and principle thesis accentuate "plantation slavery discourse" (327), he does not directly confront the Thirteenth Amendment's paradoxical clause that permits slavery as punishment for crime. Acknowledging that Judge Justice "did not take up the language of the prisoners' slave discourse and never once referred to Texas prisoners as slaves nor the prison system as a plantation" (328), Chase concludes that the prisoners' movement ended penal slavery but failed to avert "a massive [End Page 241] prison building program that advanced Texas as the nation's largest carceral state" (12). All in all, this is an outstanding work that will provoke discussion and undoubtedly inspire other studies as this country seeks solutions to problems that stem from the nation's experience with incarceration. [End Page 242] Paul M. Lucko Murray State University Copyright © 2020 The Texas State Historical Association

Court takes over California's prison health system

Author Response

Reaching Back: Convict Leasing and the Trusty System in the Nineteenth Century

1607 Background: Cancer is the leading cause of death in state prisons. Patients diagnosed with cancer in prison are more likely to have Stage IV diagnoses and have worse survival. Rates and predictors of cancer screening in prison and the relationship to stage at diagnosis are unknown. Methods: This retrospective study evaluated patients incarcerated in CA prisons in 2014-2023 who met screening criteria for breast, cervical, colon, liver and lung cancers during periods tracked by the prison system (Table). Correctional data were used to identify screening-eligible patients incarcerated during the study period, screening eligibility dates, receipt of screening and periods of incarceration. These data were matched to CA cancer registry data from 2014-2021 using name and date of birth; cancers were identified between the start of the tracking period for each cancer and 2021. For each cancer, we calculated the proportion of: patients who ever received cancer screening, time covered by a screening test (sum of non-overlapping time of screening intervals [e.g., 10 years for colonoscopy] divided by time eligible for screening), and patients diagnosed at Stage IV (stratified by ever-receipt of screening prior to diagnosis). Generalized estimating equations models with logit link adjusted for demographic and incarceration characteristics (e.g. incarcerated in the past year) clustered at the prison+yard level were used to determine predictors of receipt of screening for each cancer and the association of ever-receipt of screening with Stage IV diagnosis. Results: The study included 83,174 individuals who were 79% male, had a median age of 51 when first eligible for any screening, and were 33% Non-Hispanic White. Rates of ever receiving cancer screening ranged from 43-87%, and mean proportion of time covered ranged from 30-75% (Table). In adjusted models, receipt of outpatient mental health services, higher security level and recent change in prison or primary care clinician were associated with higher screening rates for most cancers. 597 screenable cancers were diagnosed from the start of each screening tracking period through 2021. 17% of cancers were diagnosed as Stage IV. In the adjusted model including all cancers, patients who ever received screening prior to diagnosis were 60% less likely to be diagnosed with Stage IV disease (OR 0.40, 95% CI 0.24-0.69). Conclusions: Cancer screening rates in CA prisons are high and may explain why rates of Stage IV diagnoses in CA prisons are comparable to the general population and lower than in other state prisons. Breast Cervical Colon Liver Lung Start of tracking period (all end 6/2023) 1/2014 1/2016 1/2014 10/2015 7/2022 N 3,218 16,238 68,086 5,644 3,406 Ever screened, n (%) 2,408 (75) 11,326 (70) 49,023 (72) 4,935 (87) 1,479 (43) Mean proportion of time covered 72% 74% 62% 75% 30% Cancer diagnosed, n 58 12 280 247 - Stage IV at diagnosis, screened, % 5% 0% 21% 12% - Stage IV at diagnosis, not screened, % 7% 0% 35% 21% -

Although the United States incarcerates nearly two million people, the epidemiology of psychiatric disorders in correctional populations is not well understood, and no study has examined temporal trends in psychiatric disorder prevalences within a single correctional system. This study assessed how psychiatric disorder prevalences have changed in the Texas Department of Criminal Justice (TDCJ), the largest American state prison system housing post-conviction, sentenced individuals. This retrospective cohort study of TDCJ electronic medical record data from 1 January 2016 through 31 December 2023 included all persons incarcerated for any duration during that period. Diagnoses were based on International Classification of Disease (ICD-10) diagnostic codes. Outcomes were annual prevalences of depressive, bipolar and schizophrenia spectrum disorders stratified by age, race and sex. Cochran-Armitage Tests were used to assess temporal trends within each stratum. Two-way interactions were assessed by fitting Generalized Estimating Equations models using autoregressive correlation with repeated subjects. The overall population ranged from 170,269 to 222,798 individuals. Approximately, one-third were White (34.5-35.4%), one-third Black (31.0-32.3%), and one-third Hispanic (32.7-33.5%). Most were aged 30-49 (52.8-57.3%), and men (88.9-90.7%) outnumbered women (9.3-11.1%). The prevalences (per 100 [95% CI]) of psychiatric disorders generally increased when comparing 2016 to 2023. Depressive disorders increased the most among those aged 30-49 (5.23 [5.10-5.35] to 6.71 [6.56-6.86]), Hispanic individuals (3.86 [3.72-4.00] to 5.72 [5.53-5.90]), and men (4.72 [4.63-4.82] to 6.53 [6.42-6.65]). Bipolar disorders increased the most among those aged ≥50 (2.57 [2.42-2.72] to 3.46 [3.29-3.63]), Hispanic individuals (1.31 [1.23-1.40] to 2.23 [2.11-2.35]), and men (2.26 [2.20-2.33] to 3.12 [3.04-3.20]). Schizophrenia spectrum disorders increased the most among those aged ≤29 (1.33 [1.24-1.42] to 2.52 [2.35-2.68]), Hispanic individuals (1.53 [1.44-1.62] to 3.21 [3.35-4.40]), and women (1.27 [1.56-1.89] to 4.24 [3.95-4.53]). When stratified by demographic variables, trend tests were significant for nearly all comparisons (P<0.0001), and all two-way interactions were significant (P<0.0001). The prevalences of major psychiatric disorders in the Texas prison system increased when comparing 2016 to 2023, with certain disorders rising more rapidly than others within specific subgroups. These findings emphasize the need for expanded mental health treatment options and resources within correctional settings.

Reviewed by: Convict Cowboys: The Untold History of the Texas Prison Rodeo by Mitchel P. Roth Paul M. Lucko Convict Cowboys: The Untold History of the Texas Prison Rodeo. By Mitchel P. Roth. (Denton: University of North Texas Press, 2016. Pp. 464. Illustrations, notes, bibliography, index.) For more than half a century, beginning in 1931, the Texas Prison System hosted the “wildest show behind prison bars” (150) near its headquarters at the Walls Unit at Huntsville. In this nicely written, thoroughly researched, sometimes humorous, and yet serious account augmented with rare photographs, Mitchel Roth relates the story of the Texas Prison Rodeo and the incarcerated felons who contributed to the event’s success. Initially established to “provide good wholesome entertainment while raising money for prison education, recreation, and medical programs” (49), the rodeo also enhanced the prison’s public image and offered a diversion from the unpleasant activities that typified the daily lives of most state prisoners. While some of the convict competitors, especially during the show’s early years, were experienced rodeo professionals or ranch cowboys, most were amateurs who auditioned at the various prison farm units where they lived and labored. Prison employees transported performers as well as other inmates from these scattered properties to a specially built arena where they joined “free world” spectators each Sunday in October. Rodeo revenue funded construction of a chapel, supported educational programs, and purchased television sets and athletic equipment as well as eyeglasses, dentures, hearing aids, and artificial limbs for the inmate population. Roth complements his entertaining narrative with a penetrating analysis that uncovers the paradox of a repressive and brutal penal regime coexisting with an extravaganza promoting inmate rehabilitation. As was the case with “many of the warm weather gulags of the South” (230), the state government refused to fund the prison system adequately and instead expected the institution to sustain itself primarily through the tortured labor of its wards. Inmates, however, eagerly anticipated the annual rodeo and welcomed the opportunity to observe dignitaries and celebrities such as John Wayne, Fess Parker, Dizzy Dean, Mickey Mantle, Johnny Cash, Loretta Lynn, James Arness, Dan Blocker, Steve McQueen, and Anita Bryant who visited and entertained at the show over the years. Cognizant that the rodeo flourished during the South’s Jim Crow [End Page 533] era, the author, referencing favorable comments from Ebony magazine, praises the largely desegregated event as “a high point in the prison system” (231). Participants and visitors reflected racial and ethnic diversity, although for many years black and white inmates sat in separate sections of the arena; civilian spectators were likewise racially segregated. Female prisoners also attended and provided musical entertainment during much of the rodeo’s existence, although they did not participate in competitive events until 1972. Competitors engaged in standard rodeo contests such as bronco and bull riding, calf-roping, bull-dogging, and barrel racing, but, according to Roth, it was the more atypical events that evoked the greatest level of audience enthusiasm. Undoubtedly the most popular of these was “Hard Money,” where a multitude of red-shirted male convicts simultaneously entered the arena to retrieve a cash-filled Bull Durham tobacco bag from between a bull’s horns. Other distinctive events included such activities as chariot races, wild cow milking, calf scrambles, wild horse races, and greased pig sacking. During the tumultuous 1980s, the prison system experienced a significant transformation resulting in large measure from the famous Ruiz v. Estelle litigation, which found that Texas prisons practiced cruel and unusual punishment and ordered sweeping changes in the system. Increasing prisoner violence, heightened security and liability concerns, and expenses related to renovating the outdated arena prompted the Texas Board of Corrections to cancel its long-running rodeo in 1987. Roth’s book, however, preserves the rodeo’s legacy and impressively demonstrates its place in the state’s history. Paul M. Lucko Murray State University Copyright © 2017 The Texas State Historical Association

The COVID-19 pandemic has taken a heightened toll on people incarcerated in prisons in the United States, with those incarcerated experiencing a higher rate of infection and mortality than the US population more generally. What is less well known is the degree to which COVID-19 outcomes differ among incarcerated populations, especially by race and ethnicity, where significant differences have been found among the US population as a whole. This knowledge gap is, in part, due to a lack of reporting of COVID-19 outcomes by race and ethnicity by most state prison systems. To shed light on this topic, we analyzed mortality patterns of the population incarcerated in Texas state prison facilities during both the year before (beginning April 1, 2019) and the first year of (beginning April 1, 2020) the COVID-19 pandemic. We used a unique data set of roster information from the Texas Department of Criminal Justice and medical examiner records. COVID-19 mortality was 1.61 and 2.12 times higher for Black and Hispanic populations, respectively, when compared with the White population in Texas prisons. Strategies for COVID-19 mitigation in carceral settings, such as vaccination and decarceration, should include an equity component to minimize disparities.

The state of Texas' determined effort to keep African-Americans performing plantation labor was at the heart of its prison farm system, from Reconstruction through the 1920s. State and penitentiary officials followed a practice of racialized labor control, demanding that African-American convicts perform plantation gang labor, not only to make the prison system profitable but also keep them involved in extractive agriculture. As the prison population grew, so did the abuse of convicts. The story of Texas’ penitentiary system shows the continuing tie between African-Americans, plantation labor, and racism in Texas, as well as other southern states. The sprawling farm system that developed in Texas made it unique in the South. When Progressive Era reformers confronted abuses in the Texas prison system, they had to contend with an overwhelming profit motive that made reform difficult, and warped reform measures they managed to push through the legislature. Among the initial goals of Texas prison reformers were an end to convict leasing and a ban on the use of the whip as punishment. The agenda of reformers collided with the goals of the Texas prison system, with unexpected results. Looking at reform measures after they passed the legislature illustrates how prison managers tried to circumvent regulations that hindered profitability.

The Texas Department of Criminal Justice (TDCJ) has the busiest execution chamber in the USA. Between 1924 and 1964, Texas executed 361 men. Since the end of the national death penalty moratorium in 1982, Texas has executed 528 men and women (Fernandez and Schwartz 2014; Texas Department of Criminal Justice 2015). Texas was also the first state in the USA to execute using lethal injection (Marquart et al. 1994: 137). Given this volume of executions performed in Texas as well as the current controversies over the method of lethal injection, interpreting representations of this practice are critical to understanding the dynamics of capital punishment. Located in Huntsville, the heart of the Texas prison system, the Texas Prison Museum is the only cultural site where the public can gain information about Texas executions and cast their own eyes on the electric chair, "Old Sparky."

A 1985 change in the Texas “good time” law provided a unique opportunity to study the effects of legislated change on a correctional process. For nearly five years the Texas Department of Corrections (TDC) had been laboring under both a court order that restricted the maximum capacity of its prison system and a growing felony offender population. According to key provisions of the revised law, the director of TDC could decide to release “returned inmates” in as little as three months, providing the revocation did not involve a new conviction. The law was intended to provide a means of controlling the Texas prison population at its source, TDC. The bill's sponsors, however, believed that the change also might have a profound impact on the processing of parole revocation hearings as accused parole violators exercised their new found “right” to return to the custody of TDC and possibly to a reparole in three months. The present study examines the legal and extralegal aspects of all waivers initiated in the y...