Ahern's get-out-of-jail card will not solve prison crisis

Sunday Tribune 26 April

Gary Douche should not have died in Mountjoy. Those are the words of the man who beat him to death there in 2006. Nobody should die in Mountjoy, but they do, as in other prisons across our state.
Douche was in a holding cell to protect him from other prisoners. His killer, Stephen Egan, was there because the jail was overcrowded. He had been transferred from the Central Mental Hospital without his anti-psychotic drugs. I'll spare you the details of what happened.
We only ever hear what passes as life in Irish jails when someone like Gary Douche is killed. Attacks happen every day. As of 9 March, we had 3,790 prisoners and only 3,611 beds in our powder-keg prisons. They are operating at 105% of their capacity. While Douche lay dying in Mountjoy, there were 526 other inmates sleeping in the jail which had a capacity for just 470. There are now 633.
Four thousand prisoners doesn't seem like an overwhelming number to deal with. So why do we have overcrowding? It costs the state an average of €97,700 a year to house a prisoner. Do the maths: we have overcrowding because we're strapped for cash.
Justice minister Dermot Ahern made two announcements last week. The first was the publication of the Fines Bill 2009. At any given time, there are about 15 people in prison for non-payment of fines. The Bill allows defaulters pay by instalment as an alternative to jail.
The second heralded a plan to rehabilitate sex offenders. Prisoners who volunteer for therapy will be released early and electronically tagged. This will incentivise serious offenders to undergo treatment.
Both plans have merits and while I agree with the first, I don't with the second. Sex offenders are notorious recidivists and should do their time. Out of 578 released since 2003, only 42 had completed the Sex Offender Programme.
The optics are fine: TV licence fee defaulters stay out of jail and offenders get treatment. Look closer and you'll notice something both plans have in common: they free up prison space. Does the government believe releasing paedophiles is the answer to overcrowding? Or releasing short-term prisoners? Last year, anyone serving less than 20 months in Mountjoy's women's unit was released to make room for more serious offenders.
Or how about letting potential killers out on bail?
On 8 April, Ahern said that our bail laws can't be tightened because of prison overcrowding. There's no room for suspects who might not be granted bail. That's an admission of defeat.
Ahern knows that 25% of all serious crime is committed by people on bail (CSO, 2008). This includes rape and murder. Between 2004 and mid-2008, 90,000 serious crimes were committed by bailed suspects.
In 2007, despite garda objections, Tipperary man Jerry McGrath was granted bail after being arrested for assaulting a five-year-old girl. A month later, McGrath murdered mother-of-two Sylvia Roche Kelly. Her husband has accused the state of giving McGrath freedom which he used to carry out the killing.
Ahern has linked reform of the bail laws to overcrowding. His solution is early release. This will, inevitably, breed more crime. Our penal system is a revolving door which will soon be spinning faster than a government press secretary.
Every time the overcrowding issue comes up, the standard answer is 'Thornton Hall'. This 2,200-bed super-prison will solve everything. The problem is, Thornton Hall isn't being built. It's been "in the pipeline" for the past three years due to negotiation problems with the builders. There's a first: disharmony between the government and the construction industry.
The Prison Service can move quickly when it needs to, though. It's currently being investigated for awarding €100m of contracts to one building company – Glenbeigh Construction – without putting them out to public tender. The justice department secretary general, Sean Aylward, has defended the service saying it had to move quickly due to… overcrowding. Where there's a will there's a way.
Last week the government scrapped the unused electronic voting system that has cost us over €51m. Then there's the pay-offs to junior ministers and bonuses to 'veteran' TDs. All the money it has wasted could have been put towards Thornton Hall or some interim solution, like reopening Spike Island or the Curragh detention centre.
The former military camps at Rockhill House, Lifford, Monaghan and Longford could be used as 'boot camps' for young offenders, like Thorn Cross centre in Warrington. This is a voluntary scheme where prisoners sign up to learn respect and self-esteem. They are given construction courses leading to placements with local builders. If we had an Irish version, an offender could end up building Thornton Hall rather than residing in it.
The crime rate is rising and the government must protect us, inside and – more importantly – outside prison. Opening the gates is not the solution, minister. Stop wringing your hands about the bail laws and dreaming of Thornton Hall. Use the idle facilities we already have. Continuing to pack prisoners in will result in more Gary Douches. Continuing to let them out will result in more Sylvia Roche Kellys.
We don't want any more like them on our conscience. Find the space now.

dkenny@tribune.ie

Why I am not ashamed to be drawing the dole again

Sunday Tribune, 8 March, 2008

June 1995, the sun is shining, the economy is recovering, people are smiling… and there's a cloud over my head. I am redundant and staring at the dole office in Dún Laoghaire. I'm 28 and about to sign on for the first time.
The dole office is located beside the 'Tech' college. I always thought this was a strange juxtaposition that sent out the message: "We know you're going to fail your Leaving so we conveniently plonked the dole queue a few feet away."
I wound up repeating my Leaving there in 1985 because I'd cocked up my application to journalism college.
After an all-boys private school, this was heaven. I got to sit beside girls. (GIRLS!) This concentration-drain guaranteed that I was never going to see the inside of journalism college.
Luck loves a chancer, however, and during my stint at the Tech I had my first article published in the Evening Press and landed a job as a 'junior'. Two years later I was a staffer with money in my pocket and a false sense of pride and security.
Ten years on, in June 1995, the Press collapsed and I walked out of the sunlight and into the dole office. All my grafting amounted to nothing and I was a failure. People from Middle Ireland didn't draw the dole. I was a pariah, in my own eyes at least.
It was hard to see the back of the dole queue through the cloud of Major smoke. I'd like to say I smelt the scent of defeat in the air, but I don't recall it. Just my own shame, magnified by the drabness of the surroundings. This was something some of my peers picked up on.
Although it wasn't said, drawing the dole was the final resort. It carried a stigma that ranked somewhere between banging on the poorhouse door and being named in Stubbs Gazette. You were a dosser.
The man who paid me my dole each week clearly thought this as he flung my money through the hatch. His eyes said: "Sponger."
Thursday 5 March, 2009, and the sun is shining. I'm redundant and at the dole office, signing on again. This time I have Jarlath from RTÉ's Mooney Show at my elbow, recording my thoughts.
Production journalism, from which I made 80% of my living, is being universally pared back and it was inevitable that my job as associate editor would come to an end. Last in, first out, and there are, genuinely, no hard feelings.
I am worried though: my wife has taken a 10% pay cut and this column is my only income. I am worried – but I'm not embarrassed. I have asked the Mooneys along because I want to go public about being made redundant. I am not ashamed of this. Middle Ireland still is though.
In the dole office, I spot a former neighbour who was a legal secretary. The man to my left tells me he's in IT and to my right is a luxury car salesman. There are two graduates in front of me. No one will go on the record.
Outside, Jarlath speaks to an architect who agrees that the stigma persists. So does the lady who deals with my claim. She was very sympathetic, by the way.
I tick all the Middle Ireland boxes: I have a semi-d with a crippling boomtime mortgage and a formerly comfortable life. Now I am looking for help from the state.
I went public on the Mooney Show last week to say that there is no shame in this. This is a democratic recession and everyone is being hit, from lawyers to labourers. We are all in freefall and it's vital to remember that it's nothing personal and your own worth hasn't been diminished. If you're reading this and are unemployed, don't be afraid to admit it. There are 350,000 others like us.
I hope I didn't come across as a twat on the radio, whingeing about my own situation. I don't want sympathy: there are people out there much worse off than I am. However, I am very grateful for all the kind messages I've received.
Anyway, enough of all this gloom.
Normal service will resume in this column next week. Brian Cowen, your arse is in my crosshairs.

dave@davekenny.com

At least the price of drowning our sorrows is staying the same

Question: What's the difference between a pint of Guinness and a Dublin city councillor? (The answer's at the end, now please read on…)
Last week, the nation's publicans announced their new initiative to battle the economic crisis.
The price of a pint (cue drumroll) will be… FROZEN for 12 months. Ta-dah!
This announcement was greeted with derision by most tipplers who saw it as a cynical PR ploy by the vintners' associations.
People don't have sympathy for publicans. Drink is too expensive in pubs, the mark-up on soft drinks is outrageous and don't get me started about crisps.
Publicans blame the smoking ban, drink-driving laws, energy costs and Diageo (Guinness) for hiking up prices. Everybody, except themselves.
Since 2001, 10% of Ireland's pubs (1,500) have closed. The Thomas Read group last week became the latest casualty. In isolated rural areas these closures are causing serious hardship.
In 2001, pubs held 68% of the drinks market. Last year, this figure dropped to 48% as off-licences benefited from more people drinking at home.
Why is this? Price is obviously a factor. Dublin's city-centre drinkers are well used to being fleeced. One pub near the Dáil actually hikes up its prices after 11pm.
Then there's the drink driving. And the new work practices; earlier starts, later arrivals home from work.
There's the cheaper off-licences too: if you can buy a bottle of wine for the price of two pints why go to the pub?
In September, the ESRI pointed out one good reason for not doing your drinking at home. It revealed that the number of cases of women in their mid-30s presenting with liver disease more than doubled from 18 in 2002 to 39 in 2006. The figure for men in this age category had risen from 45 to 47. The HSE's Dr Joe Barry blamed the rise on increased consumption of wine at home.
The temptation to open that second bottle is definitely greater at home where we can let our hair down in private.
And there'll be a lot more drinking done at home this Christmas due to the bargains in Newry. Sainsbury's up there, by the way, sells more alcohol than any other branch in the UK.
This is not good for the nation's livers – or locals.
The pub isn't just about getting jarred. It's the nation's parlour. It's the home of debate, banter, people-watching. We romance there, we cheer our teams there, we wake our loved ones there: as Charlie Chawke was being interviewed by RTÉ outside The Goat pub on Monday, there were three funeral lunches taking place inside.
The Consumer Agency last week correctly said prices must come down if pubs are to survive. In October, the Evening Herald reported that many Dublin publicans were doing the opposite and raising prices before the budget. They did the same in August prior to a rise by Diageo.
That hike by Diageo had been criticised by the Irish Farmers Association, who said that while the company was blaming high raw material costs, its main supplier of barley was cutting the price paid to growers by more than 20%. Was this barley saving ultimately passed on to customers? No.
Despite their transgressions, the vintners deserve credit for their price freeze. Diageo should follow their lead and not raise prices next March as it have said it will.
The publicans effectively took a price cut last Monday when they absorbed the VAT hike and will do so again if Diageo doesn't play ball. It's small change, but it's a start. Instead of being accused of cynicism, they should be encouraged to continue along this road.
Save your derision, instead, for Dublin City Council. Unlike the publicans, these clowns are still raising their prices. Last week, they hiked parking charges up 20 cents an hour, claiming it would free up space for Christmas shoppers.
If that's so, will they lower the charges after Christmas? Don't hold your breath.
And so, finally: what's the difference between a pint of Guinness and a city councillor?
One's famous for its big, thick head… and the other's a pint of stout.