The “double hardship” faced by children in the secure estate during COVID-19 - Dr Laura Janes
"Everyone knows you stay the age you come in at."
I will never forget these wise words from a child in prison several years ago, long before the pandemic. He was 17 at the time and was serving a sentence of detention for public protection imposed when he was 15 years old. I have held these words in mind throughout my career as a lawyer representing children and young adults in detention. They have helped me to represent young people more effectively. They are a constant reminder of the stunting effect of custody on children who grown physically but can never get their lost adolescence back: the chance to experience certain milestones (and mistakes), at a particular time is not something that can be recreated.
I am continuously surprised by the growing list of things I learn that children in custody miss out on, from chewing gum to how to manage romance, to internet proficiency or just handling things like setting up a bank account or navigating health issues. With the exception of chewing-gum, these things are hard to catch up on. Many of the young people I have represented since their early teenage years who are now in the their late 20s regularly call me about these things.
Add to that what Kate Gooch calls the pains of imprisonment, from isolation and restraint to the constant noise and hyper-vigilance. The pre-pandemic state of custody for children was well-established as not fit for purpose.
That same system was also, and remains, the most acute manifestation of systemic racism with over half of all children in prison being from black and ethnic minority communities.
There have been some slow signs of improvement: the issue of keeping children in solitary confinement was finally being taken seriously following the Howard League for Penal Reform’s AB case, statements and reports from professional medical associations, the Joint Committee on Human Rights and HMIP. The roll out of SECURE STAIRS, an NHS commissioned programme of interventions for children in custody, meant that in recent years I have come across a number of kids who had never sat in a room and talked about their feelings, begin to make connections and experience psychological support.
But on 24 March 2020, what little activity and input children in prison had was almost entirely shut down. In the early days of the pandemic, this meant no education, no visits, no advocates on site: nothing. The Howard League for Penal Reform, which operates a telephone legal advice line for children in prison, asked the children in touch about their experiences. In April 2020 it published a short briefing.
As someone supporting children in custody throughout the pandemic, I was particularly struck by children's resilience, understanding and concern for their loved ones. This child’s response was typical: “I’m worried because I got grandparents – I’m worried about what will and could happen to them.” Others told me that they just had to get on with it and do what everyone else (in the community) was doing. But as the Howard League briefing shows, the impact on children in prison was severe: there were serious deficiencies in the provision of education, with worksheets pushed under doors in place of lessons, and mental health. By Spring 2020, new normal for children in prison was “prolonged solitary confinement.”
A short report by HMIP published in May 2020 echoed these findings.
From my own point of view, it was heart-breaking to hear children who had already lived indescribably tough lives and often struggled in prison prior to the pandemic, struggle with the restrictions.
The contrast between their experience and that of children in the community, many of whom struggled with online experiences but at least had that, was huge. Put simply, the restrictions and sacrifices children faced in custody were magnified greatly. It was not just that they were deprived of experiences but that deprivation and the general cessation of services had enormous practical consequences.
For children on remand, already an endless and difficult time, court dates drifted even further and applications for bail were held up because services were not functioning to provide alternative placements. Even where placements had been found, they might often become unavailable at short notice due to Covid. I recall exactly that happening to a child over Christmas last year, even though he really never should have been remanded in the first place. The Howard League produced a guide to help lawyers mitigate this risk in Spring 2020, working alongside Garden Court Chambers.
Children serving long sentences that required authority from the Parole Board for release couldn't do the courses they needed to show progress and evidence of risk reduction.
Children coming up for release couldn't get to see their social workers to plan for it, or go out on temporary licence to prepare for it. So a child entitled to early release but waiting for an address to be checked to see if it was suitable for electronic monitoring might find themselves stuck in prison because everything had ground to a halt.
Children in prison have so little control over their lives and are dependent on others for practically everything, but during the pandemic practically everything stopped.
In March 2022 the law permitting a deviation in the regime came to an end. Technically that means a child in a YOI legally must have 15 hours a week education. While some prisons are achieving that, it's not across the board. In my experience, education across the secure estate for children is patchy and whether or not a child will get what they are legally entitled to will depend on where they land in it.
As the National Audit Office has recently reported, progress on secure schools is slow and the number of children in prison is set to double by 2025. The PCSCA just passed by Parliament will mean that children can expect harsher sentences that will see them spending longer inside, something I wrote about a year ago.
The lessons from children's experiences in prison during the pandemic are simple. We must recognise the inherent risks in confining children and how, when unforeseen emergencies strike, this already vulnerable cohort is likely to experience double hardship.
We must continue to do all we can to keep children out of jail.
This blog accompanies a series of policy briefings produced by the AYJ as part of the UKRI-funded Impact of COVID-19 on Youth Justice project, delivered in partnership between the AYJ and the Manchester Centre for Youth Studies at Manchester Metropolitan University.
AYJ would like to thank Laura Janes, lawyer, Chair of the Legal Action Group and founder of Young Legal Aid Lawyers, for her valuable contribution. Find out more about Laura’s work:
Twitter: @LauraJanes_UK
Website: laurakjanes.co.uk