Why it matters when 42% of children sentenced have no recorded ethnicity

Author: | 30 Jan 2026

Official figures published this week raise fresh concerns about youngsters in prisons, the subject of Dame Rachel de Souza’s recent Longford Lecture, according to our recently graduated scholar, Will Pendray. Without accurate recording of ethnicity, he argues, inequality is harder to see, measure and contest, while claims of progress ring hollow

Newly released Youth Justice Statistics reveal that 42 per cent of children sentenced for indictable offences have no recorded ethnicity. For the second consecutive year, the ‘Unknown’ category is the single largest group in the data. Despite a long-term fall in the overall number of children in custody, the scale of missing ethnicity data is alarming, leaving the system increasingly unable to account for who it is sentencing, and on what basis. A decade ago, in 2014–15, just seven per cent of sentencing occasions involved children recorded as having an “unknown” ethnicity, falling to three per cent the following year.

The Ministry of Justice cautions that year-on-year comparisons should be treated carefully, citing the sharp rise in cases where ethnicity is recorded as unknown. But a change in presentation does not explain why ethnicity is now missing in more than four in ten cases, or why this gap has persisted for a second year running.

In the year ending March 2025, sentencing for indictable offences included approximately:

  • 3,800 cases where a child’s ethnicity was unknown, accounting for 42 per cent of the total
  • 3,800 involving White children (42 per cent)
  • 730 involving Black children (8 per cent)
  • 430 involving Mixed-ethnicity children (5 per cent)
  • 300 involving Asian children (3 per cent)

When nearly half of all children sentenced for serious offences fall into an undefined category, the justice system loses the ability to properly measure, challenge, or correct unequal outcomes. This matters in a system where minority ethnic children have long been over-represented at multiple stages of youth justice.

In that context, a reported fall in the proportion of Black children sentenced for indictable offences (from 11 to 6 per cent) cannot be confidently interpreted. With the “Unknown” category now so large, it is unclear whether this reflects real change or statistical distortion.

Remand – punishment without conviction

The concern deepens when sentencing data is viewed alongside the continued use of custodial remand. In the year ending March 2025:

  • almost two-thirds of children remanded to youth custody did not go on to receive a custodial sentence;
  • children on remand accounted for 44 per cent of the average custodial population, nearly double the proportion a decade ago;
  • children from minority ethnic backgrounds were over-represented among those remanded.

Remand is one of the most restrictive powers available to the courts. That it is being used so frequently, and so often without leading to custody, raises serious concerns about proportionality, particularly in a system where ethnicity data is increasingly incomplete. Previous reporting has shown that racialised outcomes extend beyond who enters custody. In 2022, the Guardian reported that Black defendants, including children, spent an average of 302 days on remand, compared with 177 days for White defendants; a difference of nearly 70 per cent.

Yet the latest Youth Justice Statistics do not provide a breakdown of average custodial sentence length by ethnicity. As a result, it is not currently possible to assess whether similar patterns persist for children sentenced today. The Ministry of Justice notes that, despite year-on-year decreases in the number of Black and Mixed children in custody, both groups remain overrepresented. What the data cannot show, however, is how far any apparent decline reflects genuine change, or how much is concealed by the continued reliance on an “Unknown” ethnicity category in official reporting.

‘When justice systems fail to record race consistently, inequality does not disappear’

International comparisons suggest this is not an isolated issue. In the United States, incomplete ethnicity data has been linked to under-reporting of racial profiling. In France, human rights organisations have criticised data gaps that make discrimination in policing and sentencing harder to challenge. When justice systems fail to record race consistently, inequality does not disappear, it becomes harder to see, measure and contest.

Independent experts and equality advocates have previously highlighted the need for greater clarity in how ethnicity is recorded in the criminal and youth justice systems. While the government has acknowledged the rise in “Unknown” ethnicity cases and their inclusion in recent statistics, further explanation is needed on:

  • why the proportion of cases recorded as “Unknown” has reached such a high level;
  • whether recording practices have changed;
  • and what steps are being taken to ensure ethnicity data is captured accurately and consistently.

Without answers, it remains unclear whether this reflects an administrative failure or a structural blind spot that has been allowed to persist. Accurate data is the foundation of fair justice. Without it, reforms risk being built on partial or misleading information. While the inclusion of the “Unknown” ethnicity category may reflect an attempt to acknowledge rising numbers, it does little to resolve the deeper problem. By obscuring who is being sentenced, the system weakens its own ability to confront inequality, and allows longstanding imbalances to continue without meaningful scrutiny.

Until ethnicity is consistently and transparently recorded, claims of progress in youth justice will remain impossible to verify, and impossible to trust.

WS Pendray’s poetry collection, Overgrown, is out now.  

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

‘She didn’t mind about the conviction but was concerned I’d never been to a zoo’

Author: | 16 Dec 2025

Former scholar Carolyn busts some myths about life after release, shares her passion for education’s transformative power and looks ahead to happy new year.

The five years since my release from prison have gone absurdly quickly. My release into the throes of Covid lockdowns enabled me to recover from the prison experience in a time of general uncertainty: it wasn’t just me feeling unsure of the world outside.

I’d been nervous about my re-entry into the community, particularly about meeting new people and forming friendships. Would new people in my life accept me with a conviction?

As it turned out, I needn’t have worried. Over the last five years I have made a number of new friends, no one at all having a problem with my conviction. Instead, I have faced warm acceptance and empathy that situations such as mine could happen to anyone. Slowly but surely, I have learned to have more faith in others again. I met my partner a couple of years ago and raced to explain the baggage that I come with, just so that I could get the rejection over quickly. She didn’t mind about the conviction but was very concerned that I’d never been to a zoo before. We’re getting married next year.

Looking back from where I am now, it has been such a journey. Throughout my time in prison, we were regularly fed information about what the challenges will likely be on release. I was fortunate to have accommodation sorted and I have an exceptional support network around me, reducing some of the issues that many others face on release.

Sigh of relief

Qualifying for insurance was something that came up time and again. We had it drilled into us that insurance companies can ramp up premiums for people with convictions, pricing us out of many aspects of quotidian life. This is not something that I have experienced. My conviction is still unspent and whilst, naturally, driving offences for example will mean that access to car insurance isn’t straightforward, getting reasonably priced insurance hasn’t been a struggle at all. My partner and I bought a house last year, and with that came the need for house, life, contents insurance etc. I held my breath as we submitted the forms and each time a sigh of relief came moments later, when we’d cleared the eligibility stage and been offered very decent quotes. In my experience, the blanket insurance crisis is no more than a silly prison myth.

Another of those myths is foreign travel. Yes, there are restrictions against this within most licence conditions, but these can be flexible and might dissolve over time with a reasonable and supportive probation officer. I had been told by prison officers that, even after coming off licence, travel would be tricky; a quick Google search is enough to find out that this is rubbish. So far, I’ve travelled to eight European countries (some of those multiple times) entirely without issue. We’re planning our honeymoon to South East Asia and other trips to North and West Africa and, although it’s taken a few years, I can now rest assured that my conviction won’t be getting in the way.

Making a good plan

A regular topic of conversation in prison was ‘What do you miss the most about life outside?’. For me, cooking, trail running and wild swimming were high up my list but more than anything, I missed education. My time in prison did wonders for reducing my ‘To Be Read’ pile, many thanks to my sympathetic and generous parents for bringing new books from my stack to each visit.

However, the Kafkaesque experience inside doesn’t lend itself to enhancing an educational profile. For those with a disrupted education, the availability of Functional Skills qualifications in English and maths is very useful but successfully delivering these courses to reach everyone who needs them is a tall order.

Transition back into the community has the potential to be bumpy but a way to overcome this is by making a good plan: What do you want to do and what do you need to get you there?

I now work for an organisation that supports women with convictions to access education, training and employment opportunities. We so often see women approach us for support with designing a new career path as their conviction means that their previous one is no longer accessible to them. I was in a similar position so turned to the Longford Trust to help with specialising in a new area and was given the exciting opportunity to begin a PhD. For me, studying for a degree isn’t just about rehabilitation. It’s an inspiring and experimental experience. For those I know who have gone to university for the first time after release from prison, it has been entirely transformative.

This Christmas and New Year will be significant for us as we reflect on how far we have come and look towards navigating a new stage of our life: marriage, hopefully children, entirely unchartered territory for us, and certainly an exciting time.

Studying can help people to discover their professional identity and transcend their circumstances, removing them from their interactions with the criminal justice system. If I have one bit of advice for people considering university after prison, it’s to just go for it.

Find out more about our scholarships, mentoring and employability support.

Two women and two men smiling and talking live on a theatre stage

Does your sentence end when you leave prison?

Author: | 4 Nov 2025

It was a wonderful evening at the Apollo Theatre in London on Tuesday 28 October when, after a performance of Punch, based on the memoir of our scholar Jacob Dunne, the Longford Trust put on a post-show Q&A session on the topic, raised in the play, of the challenges that face prisoners on release.

Listen to the audio recording of the panel Q&A here.

 

On stage were (pictured left to right): our Employability Manager and Longford Scholar Roxanne Foster; multi-award-winning screenwriter (Time, Unforgiveable, Hillborough) Jimmy McGovern: and current Longford Scholar Andrew Morris. Hosting the conversation was Ronke Phillips, ITN broadcaster and wife of Kevin Pakenham.

This event was one in a series of post-show talks, curated by The Forgiveness Project, with more to come before Punch closes its West End run on 29 November.

The conversation took as its theme the question, ‘Does your sentence end when you leave prison?’ Ronke asked the panel in turn, and then the audience (some two-thirds of people who had watched the show stayed on to join in with this event), how willing they thought employers and the public are to believe in reform and rehabilitation. The panel shared stories, setbacks and suggestions .

Thank you to all those involved for an insightful, funny and uplifting discussion.

Punch was written by James Graham – winner of the 2024 Kevin Pakenham Prize.

Photo credit: Jake Bush at Punch the play.

A pumpkin pie with a face decorated in sugar

‘The week I learned to cry’

Author: | 4 Nov 2025

Our recent graduate Douglas Edgar has just returned from a prestigious writers’ retreat at Villa Pia in Umbria, made possible by one of our travelling scholarships. In reflecting on the lessons learnt, he hopes the next step will be to realise his ambition for a creative arts career.

‘Forza Nonna’ was the cheer as Sondra, from Rochester, New York, poured custard into the famous ‘Torta della Nonna’ base. Translated as ‘grandmother cake’, there are two layers of short-crust pastry filled with vanilla custard, hints of lemon zest, all covered in powdered sugar. I met a Nonna once – Brooklyn-based and South Italian-born. Fierce, vain, and shameless with set blonde hair, long red nails and tattooed eyebrows, well into her 90s. An Italian Mary Berry.

Enrolling in the cookery class at the writers’ retreat, I saw the opportunity to move away from my go-to meal of chicken breast, rice and broccoli. Umbria is a place where vegetables have real flavour. However, I saw three pots on the stove at one time and thought ‘cooking’s not for me’. Alas, five fellow retreaters and Gessy, the in-house chef, combined to make the following from scratch:

  1. Lasagna with ragu sauce.
  2. Spinach and ricotta ravioli with sage and butter sauce.
  3. Semola (not semolina) gnocchi with truffled béchamel.
  4. Vanilla panna cotta with forest fruits.
  5. Torta della Nonna.

Being the second group to cook, I felt pressured to beat the previous day’s class, so I spent 30 minutes drawing a pumpkin stencil to level up our Nonna cake. Consulting with my artist-cum-culinary neighbour, Tania, I cut the stencil and rubbed the pencil marks off the steel worktops. The lasagna came out of the oven and victory was in sight. We’d made one more pasta dish than yesterday’s group and had a pumpkin on top of a cake.

I know people will want my top Italian-cooking tip, so here it is: ‘cut out the eyes, nose and mouth for the perfect stencil’. I’m joking, but I have tried to remember when I have learned, and in summary, I prefer eating food a lot more than preparing it.

Beyond cooking

Cooking was an escape from writing. I cried more this week than I had in the past 10 years combined. On a foggy day, I built the fire in the dining room whilst a peer explained how she became her mum’s primary carer in the final stages of cancer treatment. The damage from radiotherapy would cause skin to erode into her mouth, making her choke at night.

Up to five years after her passing, she emptied the washing basket and would see her mother’s nightie on the floor, choosing not to wash it to keep a part of her there. Not for the smell but for presence. I’ve never been so affected by words, and I began to cry uncontrollably – a soul captured in a nightdress.

We discussed the logistics – the inflatable mattress beside the hospital bed – but it would never be written about. Instead, she chose to re-write a dystopian novel. Feeling that thousands would benefit from her experience, sci-fi seemed like a distraction, but hearing her story reminded me to dig-deep and face the subjects I’m avoiding.

Souls collide

Inevitably, some people would work out that my fellow Longford scholar and I were ex-prisoners. It would be exciting for them, like Shawshank Redemption in real life, or Le ali della libertà as the Italians would say. Was he a Hatton Garden robber? Maybe a mass murderer?

I overheard someone worry that they were becoming institutionalised by Villa Pia’s ritual of cake at 4pm, which made me reflect on my somewhat different experience. Conversation helped to diffuse the tension, and some of us would sit for hours into the night, talking through the fluff, and their payment would be gruesome tales of prison.

Friday night’s gala rounded off with karaoke, facilitated by yours truly. More importantly, everyone shared a few minutes of writing to the group. Another peer’s story was based around an AI imposter’s attempt to infiltrate the retreat, analysing human interactions whilst fighting off the occasional system glitch. The story’s finale is quoted below:

“I meet novelty for the first time this week. We embrace each other in a hug and thank you for the trust. On the bed I stare at the ceiling and review every word he’s said to me since we’ve met two days ago. Not artificial. So that’s a soul.”

The character being referenced, Jeremy, was based on me, and for the third time that week I thought ‘bloody hell I’m crying again’.

Reform happens through genuine interactions.

A fond farewell

The Haven is knowing that you’re protected – no matter who you are, no matter what you share, no matter how much you cry. In that respect, Villa Pia was my Nonna.

So, it’s back to Tesco’s veg and imported wine, only now I understand the richness of my own soil. From tutors-to-teammates, thank you for your understanding, trust and camaraderie.

Forza Stories!

Douglas joined the annual ‘Haven for Stories Retreat’, thanks to one of our Longford travelling scholarships. Our gratitude goes to Tobias Jones, Alice Vincent and Elise Valmorbida, the three acclaimed writers who teach each year at the retreat, and to Villa Pia’s owner, Morag Cleland, a former Longford Trust mentor, for making these bursary places available to our scholars.

 

 

Man with a beard in a library being interviewed on TV news

Poet Will talks about his new book on ITV News

Author: | 5 Sep 2025

Longford Scholar Will Pendray has appeared on ITV Meridian News, being interviewed about the publication of his new poetry book, Overgrown.

Will graduated with an MA in Creative Writing with Distinction from the University of Brighton in 2024.

He told the ITV reporter how the poetry in Overgrown came from the many notes he kept while in prison.

Click here to watch the full interview.

The book is described as ‘a powerful poetry collection… written through years of incarceration and personal transformation. Blending spoken word, prison poetry, and reflections on trauma and mental health, this debut collection explores how we grow, even when the world tries to bury us.

‘These are poems of memory and blood, dirt and rain, love and survival. From the weight of a prison cell to the fragile joy of fatherhood, Overgrown is a raw and redemptive journey through the cracks and quiet triumphs of a life rebuilt.’

Read the blog Will wrote for us in February 2025 – They say education is freedom. I learned that while I was locked up

Overgrown is available to buy on Amazon.Book cover

Two small brown dogs walking on leads in a park

Could do better – and I did!

Author: | 19 Aug 2025

School can be a difficult experience for many people. Our Ambassador Lisa reflects on her schooldays, poor career guidance and how she found a way to focus on what she loves. As she says, if you need a degree, ‘reach for the moon’.

Could do better… sound familiar? My school reports were always full of ‘could do better’ remarks. A useless comment, leaving me wondering just how the hell I was supposed to do better! If I could do better, I would have done better.

School for me was horrible and I really did not want to be there, at all. The only subject I enjoyed was English as you got to read books and I’ve always been quite the bookworm. The rest, though, seemed pointless. Remember trigonometry? If you are standing in a boat and looking up at a 250-metre cliff, what is the angle you are looking up at? If I was ever in a boat looking up at a cliff, I definitely wouldn’t be worrying about the angle. I’d more likely be frantically waving my arms around and screaming for help.

I thought education wasn’t for me

I remember asking the teacher, ‘why do I need to learn this?’ Her answer: ‘It’s in the curriculum’. So, I asked, ‘what job would I need trigonometry for?’ only to be told, ‘stop messing around and get on with your work’.

I despised hockey and gym. Loathed computer science. Couldn’t understand physics… I think you get the picture. I also had a tendency to mess around in class – setting the gas taps in the physics lab alight (without a Bunsen burner attached) or liberating the frogs from the biology lab, or hiding in the suspended ceiling – only to come crashing down in the middle of the lesson.

I left school after my GCSEs, only scraping passes. The careers advisor, back in those days, was useless. When asked what I enjoyed doing, I replied, ‘I love training and being with my dog’. She promptly stated that I ‘couldn’t play with dogs as a job’ and told me to be either a nurse (no way, I hate the sight of blood), a teacher (I hate school!) or work in a bank but I needed to go and do an OND in Business and Finance.

So, off to college I went, obtaining a Merit for my efforts. At the urging of my family, I continued on to do an HND in Business and Finance, this time a Distinction. College life suited me far better than school, with better learning support and continuous assessments through assignments, rather than focusing on exams.

What next after prison?

During my time in prison, I started thinking about what to do upon release, seeing as I couldn’t and didn’t want to return to the job I had. While working full-time as a single mum, I somehow found time to follow my childhood dream and became a qualified dog trainer. On reflecting, I realised how happy I was during moments of teaching at dog training classes. I decided to build on this.

It was, after all, what I should have done all those years after my GCSEs. As a dog trainer, I remembered how people would ask me questions that crossed from training into the realm of dog behaviour. I was also fascinated by the head trainer who ran courses for reactive dogs with real tangible results.

Now I have just passed the second year of my degree in Animal Behaviour and Welfare with the support of the Longford Trust. I am aiming to become a Clinical Animal Behaviourist, helping owners with naughty pets. I’m doing really well, too, with grades that are higher than anything I ever gained in school. The support I’ve received as a mature student going back into learning has been incredible, with tutors on hand to offer academic guidance on how to get to grips with new technologies to help you learn.

The Longford mentoring has been invaluable to me. My mentor Andrew has been able to give me advice and guidance on tackling everything from university study to setting up my business and scaling it to fit in with my studies. I feel that having a mentor means I am accountable to someone which has helped to keep me focused and reaching my goals.

The takeaway from my story is this… if you enjoy something, then the learning becomes easy and enjoyable. So have a think about what you enjoy, and then look what qualifications you need. If you need a degree, then reach for the moon and, even if you fall short, you’ll end up among the stars.

Want to study for a degree but need some financial and mentoring support after leaving prison? Take a look at our Scholarships and Awards page.

Meet our three new Trustees

Author: | 20 Jun 2024

One of the joys of the Longford Trust, writes our Director, Peter Stanford, is seeing our award-winners go forward from graduation, the careers they build, and the lives they lead in wider society. So, it is with great pleasure that we are announcing that three recent scholar graduates have joined the Longford Trust’s trustee board.

Each of them brings to the trustee table first-hand experience of the criminal justice system, of  universities, and of the challenges that come when navigating degree-level learning during and after time in prison.   But that is just one part of it.  Because they have all gone on to achieve so much in their professional lives, they will also be sharing with us their particular expertise in the field where they are excelling. That will strengthen the mix of knowledge on the trustee board, and make the Longford Trust ever more effective in its work with our present and future scholars.

Tim Kerr

Tim, 34, is a doctoral student in Psychiatry at King’s College, London, where his research focuses on anxiety disorders. Alongside that he works at the Howard League for Penal Reform, our partner organisation, as Membership Officer. Both roles, he says, “directly arose” from being a Longford Scholar.

“My life is now a far cry from the one I had when I first encountered the trust. Relatively settled, in career and life, I am becoming a trustee in the hope of putting my still recent experiences to good use, to improve processes that I once went through, and prevent mistakes being repeated.”

Kyle McIntosh

Kyle, 27, graduated in mathematics and is a software developer at Arahi, a London-based company specialising in portfolio reporting, board-pack reporting and value creation. Some of you may remember that Kyle came up on stage at our 2022 Longford Lecture to talk about how our employability project had helped him find the perfect job post-graduation.

“With my lived experience and deep appreciation for the Trust’s mission, I hope to bring a unique perspective to the table. I am committed to leveraging my insights to contribute meaningfully to the board of trustees, ensuring that the voices of those with first-hand experience are heard in strategic decision-making processes.”

Elliot Tyler

Elliot, 26, graduated from Portsmouth University supported by one of our Nat Billington scholarships. He has gone on work as a criminal justice professional in an executive agency of the Ministry of Justice.  He is also nearing the end of a post-graduate qualification at Birkbeck, University of London.

“I believe that my own journey – as a sentenced prisoner turned civil servant – is an asset that can assist me in making a positive contribution to the charity. It is a privilege to contribute to what I interpret as the Longford Trust’s principles of second chances, shared humanity, and practical solutions.”

 

 

Dr Gareth Griffiths RIP

Author: | 28 Feb 2024

With his Longford Scholarship, says his sister Lorna, her brother went ‘from drugs, crime and prison to being a respected professional, a Doctor of Physics, and contributing member of society’.

We are all saddened to hear of the death of former Longford Scholar, Dr Gareth Griffiths, in January, writes the Longford Trust’s director Peter Stanford.  Originally from Leominster, Gareth was awarded a Longford Scholarship in 2011, having completed an access course at City of Bristol College. He had gained a place to study physics at Bristol and, working closely with his Longford Trust mentor, Matthew Hickman, thrived there. In 2012 he was promoted onto the integrated Masters course and in 2014 switched to physics and astrophysics. In September 2014, he wrote to us in an email that he was, ‘thinking of a career in nuclear fusion, creating clean, nuclear energy’.  And that is what he achieved.

He got his BSc in 2016, moved on to a Masters with us – plus support from the Michael Varah Memorial Fund – and had completed his PhD shortly before his death at 44. His professional career blossomed, latterly with Kyoto Fusioneering as a Senior Nuclear Fusion Engineering Consultant, working to establish a UK base for them. He spoke at academic conferences as far apart as Oxford and Russia, spent time at CERN – the European Organization for Nuclear Research – home of the Large Hadron Collider and kept his goal of providing the planet with clean, nuclear energy was always in his sight.

It gave him back his faith in society

His sister, Lorna, tells us that she and Gareth’s mother, Pam, attended his PhD graduation ceremony that took place after his death. It was, ‘a beautiful reminder of what he achieved’. They also visited the labs and office where he worked on it at Bristol University and met his colleagues. ‘At a time when society had given up on him,’ she recalls of her brother receiving a scholarship from the Longford Trust, ‘it was ground-breaking for him to find people who not only believed in him but wanted to help. It gave him back faith in society and motivation to prove himself, and be the best version of himself that he could be. He just needed someone other than those who loved him to believe in him. Thank you for doing that. He went from drugs, crime and prison to being a respected professional, a Doctor of Physics, and contributing member of society.’

At the request of his family, all donations in Gareth’s memory at his funeral have been directed to the Longford Trust. We have placed £1500 in our endowment fund so that others in the future will have the opportunity to walk in Gareth’s footsteps in rebuilding their life. In his application form submitted in the summer of 2011, he wrote: ‘I want to find a vocation in which I can contribute constructively to society.’  With hard work, perseverance and passion, he did just that.  He will be much missed.

Not just another brick in the wall

Author: | 18 May 2022

This week prisons and the justice system have been in the news. Firstly, a joint justice inspectors’ report found recovery from the pandemic at ‘unacceptable levels in some areas’, whilst education is too often neglected. Today, MPs have called for urgent action to strengthen people’s access to high-standard education whilst in prison.

Our Director Peter Stanford, who gave evidence to the House of Commons Committee has written for Longford Blog:

There are some pressing, damaging problems that face us as a society where readily achievable solutions are hard to find, or else hotly contested.  Thankfully, that is not the case when it comes to tackling the staggeringly high number of prisoners who reoffend within 12 months of release. Depending on which figures you use, the current rate is between 40 and 60%.  We know a good part of the answer.  So the only real question is why are we not acting on that knowledge.

Today’s report, Not just another brick in the wall: why prisoners need an education to climb the ladder of opportunity, from the Select Committee on Education on prison education once again confirms that a decent, well-funded education system in our prisons has enormous potential to change lives, cut reoffending, reduce the cost to the taxpayer of prisons, and make us all safer.  But this message is nothing new or surprising.

In 2015, for example, I was a member of the panel working under Dame Sally Coates on a report on prison education. We handed Unlocking Potential, our recommendations, to the then Secretary of State for Justice, Michael Gove, in 2016 and he promised, in public, to implement them ‘without hesitation, repetition or deviation’.

Yet, as the Select Committee’s report sets out, next to nothing has happened about the vast majority of Coates recommendations. So it makes them all over again.

Will it be different this time round?  Well, I have faith that, if you say something sensible often enough, eventually someone will listen.  I therefore agreed to appear before the committee in April 2021 to offer once again the perspective of the Longford Trust from its work supporting young serving and ex-prisoners to go to university.

At the end of my session, I was asked by the committee chair, Robert Halfon, what I would most like to see change.  At the risk of repeating myself, I said supervised internet access for serving prisoners so they can benefit from all the life-changing opportunities that distance learning with providers like the Open University offers.

And the Select Committee makes that one of their main recommendations. It also backs another long-standing wish of the Longford Trust – that student loans should be available not just to serving prisoners with six years or less to go on their tariff (the so-called Six-Year-Rule), but to all who can demonstrate that higher education studies would improve their prospect of rehabilitation.

On this second point, though, a junior minister at the Department for Education is reported as having told the Select Committee that the government did not want to give student loans to prisoners, ‘who have no prospect of paying those loans back’.

Does he think that prisoners never come out, never go on to use the educational qualifications they have undertaken while inside to get well-paid jobs?   More than 80 per cent of Longford Scholarship award-holders, all of whom receive student loans, do precisely that.

Evidently not, which dampens hopes that this Select Committee report will succeed where others before have failed in focussing minds on improving prison education. But we will continue unceasingly to argue the case because we know from experience that it is unanswerable.

Education changes lives for the better, in prison as everywhere else.

Aiming high: keeping hope alive in prisons

Author: | 6 May 2022

In November last year, social justice commentator George the Poet gave a thought-provoking speech to Longford supporters, scholars and mentors.

He talked about the game being rigged – not just in prisons and the justice system but across society. He said ‘there are no choices without chances’, proposing that prisons should be re-modelled as development centres with opportunities, rather than detention centres.

George’s words  [watch again here] continue to resonate, so much so that months later former scholar, Richard got in touch with his own reflections:

Time and rehabilitation

Inside you have time, time to reset. On the outside, we wish we had more of it.

Spending three years in prison from 2007-2010 gave me insight into how the prison system is ‘rigged’, stacking the odds against individuals, focused on punishment rather than rehabilitation.

I only heard the word ‘rehab’ in association with drug taking. What I experienced was underfunding, undertrained/skilled staff in rehabilitation, limited options, limited information, limited support and guidance. I pushed for avenues to develop and use time wisely, but was told, ‘we’re not geared up for people like you’.  People like me, wanting to use my time productively, rehabilitate myself. A strange response to me under the circumstances.

I took Carpentry City and Guilds, Business Studies and Personal Training courses until funding lapsed on all. I even managed, through special permission from the governor to gain internet access to complete my University application (at first denied) and just squeaked into the Autumn 2009 intake.

When I went to prison it was my first offence, devastating and traumatic for everyone involved but I had all the support anyone could want in that situation. For that I consider myself lucky. Many friends inside weren’t so fortunate. I did ok in school but I couldn’t help but question what hope there was for those spat out of school, in care, or just not encouraged when young in school, or even by their parents.

Education, work and health are the basic principles in society.

The Game is Rigged: Detention Centre or Development Centres?

34% of prisoners read at the level below an 11year old. This is no coincidence. It’s good to see we now have a prisons inspector, Charlie Taylor, who is determined to address this literacy defecit.  Prison is the last line of defence in my view, it must be a duty of society to provide these opportunities, a real option to rehabilitate, a second chance I thought. This doesn’t need to be traditional education, it starts with support and information of where to start, developing and building on your interests with opportunities associated to those outside the prison walls. A place of hope and clarity. Only then can everyone in prison look in the mirror and decide to take that option of development, or not.

Without this support the game must be rigged, right?

The only ‘help’ preparing me for my release focused on the need to tell an employer I have a criminal record and that it will never be classed as ‘spent’, emphasising to me it was against the law not to disclose.

In the first five interviews after finishing my degree I declared my record, resulting in me not moving to the next stage. In my sixth interview I said nothing, went through 2 interviews and got offered the Job. I then declared it and it was not an issue. I have moved companies five times since, all with the same outcome. I’m not necessarily advocating this approach but certainly at that time it seemed the only way to move on.

Hope and Chances : ‘Making it a worthwhile place to be’ 

 I didn’t want to become part of the system and a statistic. Educating or bettering myself however I could was a MUST, a driver for me and I’d urge everyone to think alike. There should be a trained staff member who goes around prisons, like a career advisor in effect, understanding what skills people possess and how those can be transferred into society. Would vocational, education or simple support and mentoring help?  What avenues of funding are available post release? What level does an individual need to be at on release to access a college course and help devise a road map to get there. Starting off is the hardest step of all. It’s about problem-solving – we all need to do it from time to time.

I can’t help thinking it would be great if prisons were like colleges and universities, specialised in certain areas: prison radio, cookery, trades, creative and arts, sports.  Again, become places of hope, providing the opportunity to develop an individual for their release, a successful release. Educating on not just subject matter but on life. Interpersonal skills, money management and communication are more important than ever. Giving people information on moving out of their home area, how they’ll feel, and what a new chapter can bring. And credit where credit is due it’s great to see local and national businesses, especially in construction starting to recruit from prisons. It’s an obvious talent pool, individuals can be fully trained and on site in just 12 weeks. Though maybe we shouldn’t get into the prison building plan (that’s another blog!).

So, as George the Poet says, there are no choices without chances and for now it’s largely up to organisations like Longford Trust and others to provide real tangible chance. They gave me that second chance and support I much needed at the time, 6 months prior to my release I met my mentor and secured scholarship funding which paid for my accommodation. They helped me to get a part time job and I moved from prison to university life with as little baggage as possible.

In truth, most critically they believed in me. They believed in my ability and the financial help fostered my ability to focus on my studies despite being severely dyslexic. It put me near to the opportunities my class mates had with emotional and financial support from their families. I completed my degree with a 1st class honours degree, top of my class in Project & Construction Management. With a chance given to develop, other successes will follow. There is no doubt.

I have gone on to manage over 300 men on site in central London, built some of the most prestigious, high-end hotels you can imagine to the tune of over £80m.

It all started somewhere and it’s quite easy to pinpoint. It began the day I first met my mentor.

If only the same level of hope, opportunity and belief in potential were hardwired into the prison system, then we’d have something to celebrate.

 

You can watch George the Poet’s lecture here.