Harm reduction efforts outside prison often involve lawyers and other experts identifying policy that is weak from more than one angle—policies which, if attacked properly, can yield wins for harm reduction.
The same could be true here. I don’t have access to tobacco harm reduction (THR) strategy meetings. If I did, I would be urging the targeting of prison policies that are vulnerable because they cost money, as well as lives.
Washington State is in a desperate financial position right now, its Democratic leadership under pressure from the feds. Education is being squeezed, among other things.
Our Department of Corrections (DOC) has been underfunded for years. Meanwhile, prisoners (like their wider communities) smoke at very high rates—often engaging in unsafe practices to get around prison smoking bans, or else resuming smoking immediately upon release. This imposes higher health care costs on the state.
One policy change could help address multiple issues: giving DOC the chance to be more financially sustainable by selling specially designed nicotine vapes in commissary, as has been done on a smaller scale in some jails in the United States.
In those examples, vapes are purchased by the state at low cost and sold to incarcerated people at a mark-up. People who become accustomed to getting nicotine in this safer way are likely to bring the habit with them to the streets after release, with further influence on behaviors in their families and communities. Meanwhile, the mark-up profits can be used by the institution to provide maintenance and programming—two things for which all Washington prisons have a severe need.
As author and THR expert Jacob Grier pointed out when I spoke with him recently, prisons could be a politically palatable environment for this sort of effort because concerns over youth use—a stick used to beat THR around the world—would not apply. Everyone here is an adult.
Washington prisons making a clear policy distinction between smoking and vaping would be one small step to changing broader perceptions.
It would be a clear-cut win on all sides, and the policy change needs to be argued in court or legislatively addressed.
Many people will write off this cause. They will say that it’s a small portion of society, that it’s not worth the effort or time. That the payoff won’t be big enough to justify the work.
I disagree, and not just because I am a prisoner. I disagree because I have seen the effect that small policy wins have. Usually they open the door in other areas.
Wins also help define the terms and understanding of an issue. Tobacco harm reductionists continually fight the conflation of vaping and smoking. Washington prisons making a clear policy distinction between the two would be one small step to changing broader perceptions.
But how to do it? One suggestion that’s been made is that prisoners write their local representatives. While this can be effective for others, it doesn’t tend to work for us. Washington prisoners cannot vote; why would government representatives read our letters when we’re not actually their constituents?
Any bid to bring sanctioned vaping to prisons must be a team effort. We must have representation on the outside.
That approach would carry risks for us, too. If our letters in support of a policy campaign are considered too similar, the DOC can deem them evidence of a “group demonstration.” This is strictly forbidden on the inside—so much so, that if more than two people exercise together during yard or gym, they will break it up. Continuing after a verbal warning will result in an infraction, and possibly an investigation. This is supposedly an “anti-gang” tactic.
Letter-writing campaigns on the street are often accompanied by some sort of protest or public gathering. This is the worst thing someone can do inside. Do not call for a “sit down” or “strike” or “protest,” or anything along those lines! No matter how peaceful you are, you will be met with violence.
These factors explain why a vaping-policy victory can’t be achieved from the inside alone. Any bid to bring sanctioned vaping to prisons must be a team effort. We must have representation on the outside.
We can still do much of the work here: writing arguments or researching policy and law, for instance, as well as testifying to our lived experience. But without someone outside to connect these arguments to administrators or legislators, we will remain unheard.
Prisoners can be a powerful voice when supported. In Washington State, prisoners have united around legislative changes in sentencing reform. LOOK 2JUSTICE, for example, is a nonprofit run by prisoners, with an outside board. It lobbies legislators around changing sentencing in our state.
THR researchers have a vital role to play too, when studies typically ignore us.
It is not unthinkable that the same could be done for THR. But organizations focused on THR seldom reach out to prisoners. Starting a new organization is possible, and running it would require a unified effort from prisoners and free people. With the right outside support, vaping policy could join the rich history of prisoners impacting unjust laws.
“Nothing about us without us” is a basic principle of harm reduction. Prisoners are a large constituency with a direct stake in THR, but our isolation prevents us being part of the solution.
The outside THR community needs to start somewhere. Organizations can begin to include prisoners in their work through the newsletters and other materials that some produce—printing and mailing them to us, instead of keeping them purely online. Even if we received just one copy, I know from experience that prisoners would pass it around and consume it.
Organizations with lawyers could reach out to state and federal prisoners to ask what we call “legal beagles” (prison litigators) for thoughts on local policy and law. Steps like these would cost relatively little time or money, but would go a long way toward including us in the conversation.
THR researchers have a vital role to play too, when studies typically ignore us. They could conduct surveys using snail mail or, in some cases, the electronic messaging services provided to prisoners.
Prisoners have critical contributions to make to THR, and we should be central to the movement’s focus. I’m asking the rest of the THR community to step up.
I would love to team up with a researcher to produce a survey of prisoners’ smoking habits before, during and after their incarceration. The importance of such evidence should be obvious, and could underpin efforts to bring vapes or other THR options to prisons as a public health measure.
If any of those roles sound like they could be a fit for you, you can contact me through Filter, or by using the mailing details under this article. I hope to hear from you.
My role as a THR fellow for Filter, supported by Knowledge-Action-Change, is an example of meeting a prisoner where they’re at. Though I quit smoking long ago, I have done harm reduction work around drugs and sex for decades; these organizations brought me to the THR space, and what I’ve learned here makes me determined to do more. Prisoners have critical contributions to make to THR, and we should be central to the movement’s focus. I’m asking the rest of the THR community to step up.
Photograph by Kate Ter Haar via Flickr/Creative Commons 2.0
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