A Sweatshop Behind Bars
AlterNet
A Sweatshop Behind Bars
By Chris Levister, New America Media
Posted on September 13, 2006, Printed on September 15, 2006
http://www.alternet.org/story/41481/
If you think prison inmates only make license plates, you're behind the
times.
As a child Ayana Cole dreamed of becoming a world class fashion
designer. Today she is among hundreds of inmates crowded in an Oregon
prison factory cranking out designer jeans. For her labor she is paid
45 cents an hour. At a chic Beverly Hills boutique some of the beaded
creations carry a $350 price tag. In fact the jeans labeled "Prison
Blues" -- proved so popular last year that prison factories couldn't
keep up with demand.
At a San Diego private-run prison factory Donovan Thomas earns 21 cents
an hour manufacturing office equipment used in some of LA's plushest
office towers. In Chino Gary's prison sewn T-shirts are a fashion hit.
Hundreds of prison generated products end up attached to trendy and
nationally known labels like No Fear, Lee Jeans, Trinidad Tees, and
other well known U.S. companies. After deductions, many prisoners like
Cole and Thomas earn about $60 for an entire month of nine-hour days.
In short, hiring out prisoners has become big business. And it's
booming.
At CMT Blues housed at the Maximum Security Richard J. Donovan State
Correctional Facility outside San Diego, the highly prized jobs pay
minimum wage. Less than half goes into the inmates' pockets. The rest
is siphoned off to reimburse the state for the cost of their
incarceration and to a victim restitution fund.
The California Department of Corrections and CMT Blues owner Pierre
Sleiman say they are providing inmates with job skills, a work ethic
and income. In addition, he says prisoners offer the ultimate in a
flexible and dependable work force. "If I lay them off for a week,"
said Sleiman, referring to his workers, "I don't have to worry about
someone else coming and saying, 'Come work for me.' "
For the tycoons who have invested in the prison industry, it has been
like finding a pot of gold. They don't have to worry about strikes or
paying unemployment, health or worker's comp insurance, vacation or
comp time. All of their workers are full time, and never arrive late or
are absent because of family problems; moreover, if prisoners refuse to
work, they are moved to disciplinary housing and lose canteen
privileges. Most importantly, they lose "good time" credit that reduces
their sentence.
Today, there are over 2 million people incarcerated in the U.S., more
than any other industrialized country. They are disproportionately
African-American and Latino. The nation's prison industry now employees
nearly three quarters of a million people, more than any Fortune 500
corporation, other than General Motors. Mushrooming construction has
turned the industry into the main employer in scores of depressed
cities and towns. A host of firms are profiting from private prisons,
prison labor and services like transportation, farming and
manufacturing.
Critics argue that inmate labor is both a potential human rights abuse
and a threat to workers outside prison walls claiming, inmates have no
bargaining power, are easily exploited and once released are frequently
barred from gainful employment because of a felony conviction.
In one California lawsuit, for example, two prisoners have sued both
their employer and the prison, saying they were put in solitary
confinement after refusing to labor in unsafe working conditions. In a
nutshell John Fleckner of Operation Prison Reform labels the growing
trend "capitalist punishment -- slavery re-envisioned."
The prison industry is not a new phenomenon, writes Fleckner. He says
mixing the profit motive with punishment only invites abuse reminiscent
of one of the ugliest chapters in U.S. history. "Under a regime where
more bodies equal more profits prisons take one big step closer to
their historical ancestor, the slave pen."
In fact, prison labor has its roots in slavery. Following
reconstruction, former Confederate Democrats instituted "convict
leasing." Black inmates, mostly freed slaves convicted of petty theft,
were rented out to do everything from picking cotton to building
railroads. In Mississippi, a huge farm, resembling a slave plantation
replaced convict leasing. The infamous Parchman Farm was not closed
until 1972, when inmates brought suit against the abusive conditions in
federal court.
Prison analysts say contract prison labor is poised to become one of
America's most important growth industries. Many of these prisoners are
serving time for non-violent crimes. With the use of tough-on-crime
mandatory sentencing laws, the prison population is bursting at the
seams. Some experts believe that the number of people locked up in the
U.S. could double in the next 10 years. According to Prison Watch, the
expansion of the number of prisoners will not only increase the pool of
prison labor available for commercial profit, but also will help pay
the costs of incarceration.
"The main goal of prison work programs is to provide "a positive outlet
to help inmates productively use their time and energies. Another goal
is to instill good work habits, including appropriate job behavior and
time management, according to the Joint Venture Program of the
California Department of Corrections. The program is responsible for
contracting out convict labor to governments, businesses and non-profit
organizations.
Federal law prohibits domestic commerce in prison-made goods unless
inmates are paid "prevailing wages" but because the law doesn't apply
to exports, prison officials routinely market to foreign customers.
In California the prisons themselves are their own best customers. The
California Department of Corrections purchases about half of what the
prisons make, choosing from an online Prison Industry Authority
catalog.
Prisoners now manufacture everything from blue jeans, to auto parts, to
electronics and furniture. Honda has paid inmates $2 an hour for doing
the same work an auto worker would get paid $20 to $30 an hour to do.
Konica has used prisoners to repair copiers for less than 50 cents an
hour. Toys 'R' Us once used prisoners to restock shelves, and
Microsoft to pack and ship software. Clothing made in California and
Oregon prisons competes so successfully with apparel made in Latin
America and Asia that it is exported to other countries.
In most states prisoners receive little of the money they earn working
either for state-run or private sector corrections firms such as the
Corrections Corporations of America (CCA) and Wackenhut. The labor
prisoners perform is often considerably cheaper than in the outside
world. Case in point, Texas-based Lockhart Technologies closed its
Austin plant and fired some 150 workers who constructed circuit boards
because it could relocate those jobs to a Wackenhut-run prison where
detainees did the work for minimum wage.
But even with the low pay and potential for abuse, the labor programs
are popular with prisoners, says California Prison Watch, which
monitors the state's prisons. "Prisoner idle time is less, they earn
spending money, and they can pick up a skill."
Tony Matos, 45 convicted of robbing a Rialto liquor store says, "When
we step through the gates and into the shop, it's another world. This
is a company. This isn't prison. Guards still keep watch, the
capitalists still profit -- the critics and supporters still debate.
But in the end, I get a skill, a few coins and a ray of hope and
dignity."
© 2006 Independent Media Institute. All rights reserved.
View this story online at: http://www.alternet.org/story/41481/
A Sweatshop Behind Bars
By Chris Levister, New America Media
Posted on September 13, 2006, Printed on September 15, 2006
http://www.alternet.org/story/41481/
If you think prison inmates only make license plates, you're behind the
times.
As a child Ayana Cole dreamed of becoming a world class fashion
designer. Today she is among hundreds of inmates crowded in an Oregon
prison factory cranking out designer jeans. For her labor she is paid
45 cents an hour. At a chic Beverly Hills boutique some of the beaded
creations carry a $350 price tag. In fact the jeans labeled "Prison
Blues" -- proved so popular last year that prison factories couldn't
keep up with demand.
At a San Diego private-run prison factory Donovan Thomas earns 21 cents
an hour manufacturing office equipment used in some of LA's plushest
office towers. In Chino Gary's prison sewn T-shirts are a fashion hit.
Hundreds of prison generated products end up attached to trendy and
nationally known labels like No Fear, Lee Jeans, Trinidad Tees, and
other well known U.S. companies. After deductions, many prisoners like
Cole and Thomas earn about $60 for an entire month of nine-hour days.
In short, hiring out prisoners has become big business. And it's
booming.
At CMT Blues housed at the Maximum Security Richard J. Donovan State
Correctional Facility outside San Diego, the highly prized jobs pay
minimum wage. Less than half goes into the inmates' pockets. The rest
is siphoned off to reimburse the state for the cost of their
incarceration and to a victim restitution fund.
The California Department of Corrections and CMT Blues owner Pierre
Sleiman say they are providing inmates with job skills, a work ethic
and income. In addition, he says prisoners offer the ultimate in a
flexible and dependable work force. "If I lay them off for a week,"
said Sleiman, referring to his workers, "I don't have to worry about
someone else coming and saying, 'Come work for me.' "
For the tycoons who have invested in the prison industry, it has been
like finding a pot of gold. They don't have to worry about strikes or
paying unemployment, health or worker's comp insurance, vacation or
comp time. All of their workers are full time, and never arrive late or
are absent because of family problems; moreover, if prisoners refuse to
work, they are moved to disciplinary housing and lose canteen
privileges. Most importantly, they lose "good time" credit that reduces
their sentence.
Today, there are over 2 million people incarcerated in the U.S., more
than any other industrialized country. They are disproportionately
African-American and Latino. The nation's prison industry now employees
nearly three quarters of a million people, more than any Fortune 500
corporation, other than General Motors. Mushrooming construction has
turned the industry into the main employer in scores of depressed
cities and towns. A host of firms are profiting from private prisons,
prison labor and services like transportation, farming and
manufacturing.
Critics argue that inmate labor is both a potential human rights abuse
and a threat to workers outside prison walls claiming, inmates have no
bargaining power, are easily exploited and once released are frequently
barred from gainful employment because of a felony conviction.
In one California lawsuit, for example, two prisoners have sued both
their employer and the prison, saying they were put in solitary
confinement after refusing to labor in unsafe working conditions. In a
nutshell John Fleckner of Operation Prison Reform labels the growing
trend "capitalist punishment -- slavery re-envisioned."
The prison industry is not a new phenomenon, writes Fleckner. He says
mixing the profit motive with punishment only invites abuse reminiscent
of one of the ugliest chapters in U.S. history. "Under a regime where
more bodies equal more profits prisons take one big step closer to
their historical ancestor, the slave pen."
In fact, prison labor has its roots in slavery. Following
reconstruction, former Confederate Democrats instituted "convict
leasing." Black inmates, mostly freed slaves convicted of petty theft,
were rented out to do everything from picking cotton to building
railroads. In Mississippi, a huge farm, resembling a slave plantation
replaced convict leasing. The infamous Parchman Farm was not closed
until 1972, when inmates brought suit against the abusive conditions in
federal court.
Prison analysts say contract prison labor is poised to become one of
America's most important growth industries. Many of these prisoners are
serving time for non-violent crimes. With the use of tough-on-crime
mandatory sentencing laws, the prison population is bursting at the
seams. Some experts believe that the number of people locked up in the
U.S. could double in the next 10 years. According to Prison Watch, the
expansion of the number of prisoners will not only increase the pool of
prison labor available for commercial profit, but also will help pay
the costs of incarceration.
"The main goal of prison work programs is to provide "a positive outlet
to help inmates productively use their time and energies. Another goal
is to instill good work habits, including appropriate job behavior and
time management, according to the Joint Venture Program of the
California Department of Corrections. The program is responsible for
contracting out convict labor to governments, businesses and non-profit
organizations.
Federal law prohibits domestic commerce in prison-made goods unless
inmates are paid "prevailing wages" but because the law doesn't apply
to exports, prison officials routinely market to foreign customers.
In California the prisons themselves are their own best customers. The
California Department of Corrections purchases about half of what the
prisons make, choosing from an online Prison Industry Authority
catalog.
Prisoners now manufacture everything from blue jeans, to auto parts, to
electronics and furniture. Honda has paid inmates $2 an hour for doing
the same work an auto worker would get paid $20 to $30 an hour to do.
Konica has used prisoners to repair copiers for less than 50 cents an
hour. Toys 'R' Us once used prisoners to restock shelves, and
Microsoft to pack and ship software. Clothing made in California and
Oregon prisons competes so successfully with apparel made in Latin
America and Asia that it is exported to other countries.
In most states prisoners receive little of the money they earn working
either for state-run or private sector corrections firms such as the
Corrections Corporations of America (CCA) and Wackenhut. The labor
prisoners perform is often considerably cheaper than in the outside
world. Case in point, Texas-based Lockhart Technologies closed its
Austin plant and fired some 150 workers who constructed circuit boards
because it could relocate those jobs to a Wackenhut-run prison where
detainees did the work for minimum wage.
But even with the low pay and potential for abuse, the labor programs
are popular with prisoners, says California Prison Watch, which
monitors the state's prisons. "Prisoner idle time is less, they earn
spending money, and they can pick up a skill."
Tony Matos, 45 convicted of robbing a Rialto liquor store says, "When
we step through the gates and into the shop, it's another world. This
is a company. This isn't prison. Guards still keep watch, the
capitalists still profit -- the critics and supporters still debate.
But in the end, I get a skill, a few coins and a ray of hope and
dignity."
© 2006 Independent Media Institute. All rights reserved.
View this story online at: http://www.alternet.org/story/41481/
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