France: "I don’t believe in powerlessness"

Prison Insider. Jean-Marie Delarue, the first Controller-General, made it a point to visit every prison. During her term, Adeline Hazan focused on mental health facilities. You often speak of the conditions of police custody facilities. So, is Dominique Simonnot the ‘Police Station Inspector’?¶

Dominique Simonnot. Not at all. To be honest, once I assumed office, I prioritised the education and training of young people. My term includes frequent visits to juvenile detention centres (CEF). The current health emergency caused us to relegate this priority to the back burner. It was absolutely necessary, in the middle of the pandemic, to address prison overcrowding and the state of police custody facilities; I am rather satisfied with what we have done about the latter, where we encountered indescribable filth. It wasn’t just disgusting; it was sickening. When we set foot in these facilities, the stench was vile. Most of the time, the toilet didn’t flush. Only sometimes was there a trickle of water. Nobody was masked. People were sitting on mattresses that had never been disinfected. The bed linens were never washed.

You ask yourself what you could end up contracting: Covid, scabies, tuberculosis, ringworm. I can assure you, it doesn’t inspire confidence. Spending 24–48 hours inside is a living hell.

The first such place I entered was ten-year-old prefabs in Coquelles, near Calais. The police were glad we came. They told us it would be ‘great if we could change things.’ They were embarrassed. We had arrived in the middle of the night. Their teeth were chattering, just like the prisoners. We saw the same disregard for the lives of the staff as for the lives of the prisoners. We visited several police stations and decided, after reading all the reports, to make a ‘batch’ of them ¹. By the way, we recently visited an impeccable police station, which shows it is possible.

PI. Considering the breadth and the urgency of your work, one can only wonder why the reports are published, in the best-case scenario, several months after the visit. Do you think this is a problem?¶

DS. ‘Best-case scenarios’ will happen again. When I was heard by the National Assembly and the Senate, I made a commitment to shorten the delays. This stems from my training as a journalist. After a while, certain stories lose interest. We defend the rights of people who are locked away. When a report is published, its contents should match the observations from our visits. Later is too late. This is something I get asked about everywhere I go, so I asked the team to try to speed up. I turned up the pressure slightly. I tell them this every time we see one another, and I will never give up. In fact, I think everyone here agrees.

It’s like creating a news report: you set out, you return, you write. If you go straight to another report without having written the first one, you forget everything when you come back from the second one. It’s easy to get bogged down. I have requested for my colleagues to write immediately upon returning from their assignment and to move on to the next one only after they’re done. I have also reduced delays in authorities’ responses. They used to take two months to respond, now they take one. I guess that’s still not good enough, but we adjust when the authorities ask for more time. You’ll see, all the publication deadlines will vastly improve.

PI. The Controller-General enjoys a good reputation among national preventive mechanisms. However, its recommendations aren’t always followed. Far from it. How do you explain this reputation?¶

DS. As for the outcome of our recommendations, I’m well aware that we are not going to create a revolution, unfortunately. Every month in the field, I see how things change through discussion and dialogue with the teams. Everyone is invited to the feedback meetings after the assignments: the executive team, the staff, and everyone else. After that, we receive messages reporting the changes. During a visit to a psychiatric hospital, we noticed that one of the solitary confinement rooms had no mirror. I never realised the importance of a mirror until I read the magnificent book I Will Never See the World Again. Ahmet Altan, the Turkish author, wrote that after 15 days in prison without a mirror, he began to dread his trial. He thought that his relatives, not knowing his face, would no longer recognise him. Therefore, we visited solitary confinement with a physician colleague, who remarked that there was no mirror. He was told it was because the patients may slam their heads against it, hurt themselves, or cut themselves with the shards. Doubtless they can, but the doctor insisted on putting something, like plexiglass or a sheet of metal that would allow them to see their reflection. I was shocked. I never realised before that it was this hard. Sometimes the teams write to us saying, ‘You were right. We’ll lessen our use of restraints.’ Many things are worked out on-site. This is how it always is: We only talk about trains that arrive late. There is, however, a silver lining. We see greater improvement directly on-site with the teams than when we send our recommendations to the authorities, who answer evasively. Obviously, all of this has nothing to do with prison overcrowding, unfortunately for the prison administration.

We can work hand-in-hand with the prison administration to address overcrowding. It’s a nightmare for them, too.

As for our good reputation, that is something for which I commend my predecessors. Jean-Marie Delarue and Adeline Hazan established this office and bolstered its image, along with the Controller-General’s excellent multidisciplinary team that comprises lawyers, magistrates, doctors, administrative court advisors, foreigners’ rights specialists, and psychiatrists – a great variety of disciplines and sensibilities. We vary the profiles of the teams dispatched on visits. When we visit a hospital, there is always a doctor. This is normal and the least we can do. They have access to medical records and can detect any abnormalities.

PI. Are the best visits unannounced?¶

DS. When I first took office, we would give a few days’ notice before our arrival. This wasn’t always the case, though. But it made sense because the prisoners were notified of our arrival, and there were flyers everywhere explaining that they could contact us. The management had time to prepare the necessary documents. Personally, I prefer unannounced visits. For prisons, this is now the case. There are, of course, exceptions; it’s not an uncompromising stance. Imagine you want to visit a prison facility and you learn there is an outbreak. It’s hardly nice to arrive unannounced when everyone is panicking. Right now, hospitals are experiencing chaos. They are intensely angry about a legislative change, namely regarding the use of restraints. As there aren’t enough psychiatrists, closed mental health facilities are suffering, and Covid is spreading. Our purpose is not to cause disruption or confusion. These days, we give advance notice to hospitals, but not prisons. For that matter, I’ve talked to prison directors about this, and they are fine with it. I like to think that nothing was contrived, that the guys were not intentionally pulled out of disciplinary wards or solitary confinement. I find this to be a healthier approach.

PI. You were a journalist for 30 years, and now you have been the Controller-General for one. What has changed in your life?¶

DS. Everything. I won’t disclose anything too personal, but everything has changed. First off, I am clueless about administration. Absolutely clueless. I have no sense of hierarchy. I like to speak freely, to have a good time; that’s over! That changes a lot of things. Then, it’s a lot of hard work, but I really love work. The bit of freedom I had has vanished. I am forthright in what I say to the minister, in what I say to defend prisoners. If I speak nonsense, I will drag down my institution, and that’s something I don’t ever want to do. The change is dizzying, but I don’t regret it for a second. This job is extraordinary.

PI. Where do you feel most useful?¶

DS. I could also tell you where I feel most powerless. It is absolutely necessary to harp on prison overcrowding and the limited freedom of individuals in mental health facilities. I don’t believe in powerlessness. I feel a little useful everywhere. Even if it’s not obvious to everyone else, I think that if we do nothing, it’s easy to say, ‘I am doing nothing because there’s no use doing anything.’ I believe that if we persist, we will get somewhere; I’m sure of it.

Right now, prison overcrowding is my priority. It’s scandalous. When I think of leaders, representatives, and parliamentarians calling for the construction of more prisons with their irresponsible rhetoric on security, I have to laugh. We see how Lutterbach just opened after being triumphantly announced by Michèle Alliot-Marie in 2009.

We know it takes ten years to create a prison, but creating a prison isn’t going to solve the problem of overcrowding. We should simply put fewer people in prison.

Summary trials should be decreased, and alternatives to imprisonment should be increased. Half the cells are filled with non-moving parties in summary trials. Most of the defendants are on remand after an immediate trial. It’s a plague. The judges do not have the time to look into the personality of the individual or evaluate his or her security. There you find, as in prison, an alarming number of undereducated individuals and young people who were cast out onto the streets. That is why I wish to dedicate my term to young people – as soon as I am done with overcrowding, fingers crossed (laughs). I know it sounds funny; it’s ambitious.

In the end, it all starts there. Children, when they are little, do not have a voice to advocate for them, or a union, or anything. The places they end up are often very unwelcoming, if not worse. When I read Lyes Louffok’s The Hell of Children’s Homes¹, I thought I was reading George Courtois, the old gangster from the past. In the end, they told the same story of nasty mistreatment. We need to do longitudinal studies on the lives of these children, starting from their placement in child welfare services (ASE, Aide sociale à l’enfance) all the way up to their summary trials. The ASE is not wholly at fault, of course. These children walk a difficult road; their lives don’t start out in the best way. Efforts in their interest should increase. These children are our children. They are the future of our society. Instead, we put them in places that are barely monitored. I point out that children’s homes are hotbeds for prostitution. Small-time pimps spot these kids on Facebook, send them little messages, and rope them into turning tricks. This has become commonplace. I would really like to change things with the help of like-minded people. If we rectify things and work harder for those who had a rough start in life, it would already be something.

This is an old debate. When I left Canard Enchaîné, my colleagues said, ‘Don’t leave. You are more useful here.’ But no, I moved elsewhere. All the topics I deal with as Controller-General, I dealt with as a journalist, too, except maybe psychiatry. They are familiar to me. Overseeing things that bother everyone else and that no one wants to see is not at all foreign to me, either. When you’re a general news reporter addressing these topics, you get used to hearing that they are boring, depressing, that no one cares, or everyone is sick of them. If anything, this toughened me up, and I’m not afraid to bother people. I tell myself that if I keep repeating things, I will eventually be heard. I think it’s better to say and do the same things than to do nothing.

My relationship with power has not changed. I’ve said it to the Minister of Justice, the President, and the Parliament. Given my age, I’m not aiming for anything. Moreover, I never had the ambition to practice a particular profession in my life, only to do the job of a journalist, which I loved. I don’t have my sights set on any other job after this. All I want is peace and quiet afterwards. I feel completely free as the Controller-General. It’s a non-renewable six-year term. I harbour no political ambition. I am well acquainted with the Minister of Justice. We spar all the time. That’s the way it is. I’ve met the President twice – the first time for my appointment, the second time to hand in my report. I talk to him candidly. I like being completely frank and no-frills.

PI. You have five more years in office. What do you expect and from whom?¶

DS. I hope the Minister of Justice will issue ordinances of freedom like those issued by Nicole Belloubet in March 2020. I hope that judges will send fewer people to prison. I hope the number of summary trials decreases substantially. I hope prison regulations will be implemented – admission limits, for instance. If a prison has reached 100% occupancy and a new prisoner is admitted, the prisoner who is closest to completing his sentence should be released. I don’t see anything outrageous about freeing someone whose release date is 15 days away. In any case, it’s less shocking than seeing three people in the same cell, each with a living space of 1.1 m2. I wish there were a proactive political recruitment policy for nurses and psychiatrists to make their positions more attractive. We are noticing real disaffection, and I myself have felt the anger that health professionals feel. Some folks have a terrifying vision of their jobs.

I hope police custody facilities get renovated. What fool could think for a split second that it’s acceptable to let people live there during a pandemic?

Who are these people? In the morning they demand we follow protective measures, and in the afternoon, they send people to prison with dirty mattresses, sheets that haven’t been changed in months, no masks, and no hand sanitizer. The Interior Minister got angry and reproached us for making generalisations about the 17 police stations we had visited. That’s right. Except that out of 17 police stations, 15 were rubbish bins. Admit that it’s not by chance; my predecessors observed this too. We prepared a memorandum for him on the situations of hundreds of police stations we’d visited, all in the same state, especially those in his city.

I hope they make the role of educator more attractive and valued in the CEFs. I recently visited a CEF. It was admirable. They have a permanent team whose members make a real effort. They have training courses and workshops on cooking, woodworking, and metalworking. The furniture they make is sold to the town hall and nursing home. The children prepare meals for the nursing home. I never would have thought this was possible. I would like to see the longitudinal studies I mentioned. I would like for judges to send fewer people to prison, to become more aware, to not be so out of touch. They must realise that sentencing people to prison means sending them to places that are already overcrowded. It’s not the prison administration’s fault that the prisons are full.

I hope more judges visit the prisons so that they realise the consequences of their decisions. The fact is they don’t go to prison very much. Neither do the parliamentarians.

I have great expectations for lawyers. I expect them to seize on the law that allows for release in the case of unworthy prison conditions, which they are doing. Despite everything, the key outcome of this law is a transfer. If a person is imprisoned in inhuman conditions, he or she is transferred. Still, from time to time, we see more encouraging decisions. Politically, progressive measures will not be taken. The electoral period is not conducive to them. However, I have a lot of faith in legal precedent on this point.

PI. Any closing words?¶

DS. Some people say, ‘They deserved to go to prison. Serves them right.’ Fine. But when you calmly explain the situation, everyone realises that something doesn’t add up. If only the prisoners could do something, get trained or work, instead of spending 23 out of 24 hours in their cells, but that’s not the case. It’s absurd when you think about it. I don’t even mention humanity anymore because I’ll come across as a ‘social justice warrior’, which, apparently, is an insult today. But a cold and cynical evaluation will tell us that prison is not the answer.

I don’t think any normal person who sees what we see can keep saying that more people should be sent to prison. If they do, they’re a strange specimen.

Even with cynical reasoning, without appealing to dignity, humanity, and other big words, I’d like to know what benefits society reaps by keeping someone locked up in the conditions that exist in jails. If those in favour of stringency tell me it’s better for everyone and that the prisoner will come out a better person, they are knowingly fooling themselves. I don’t know why they don’t care. Demagogically, they latch on to positions I find absurd. Politically, they believe it pays off. This one-upmanship will end up tiring everybody, so I hope. Maybe I hope for too much.