I spent more than a decade in solitary confinement. Trust me it’s torture
Solitary confinement is torture. I know this because I have spent more than a decade of my life in isolation. My first experience of solitary confinement was at the age of 16 at the California Youth Authority. I was sent there because I was caught with drugs. I needed addiction treatment and counseling.
Instead, I was housed in isolation.
Once a week I got a novel, five sheets of paper and a pencil. While we were in our cells it was forbidden to speak to my neighbors. My only human contact was during an hour of movement in the yard.
The loneliness was overwhelming and unbearable. Our cells were designed to deprive us of any sensory experience, as the windows are covered by a painted, dense metal grille. But the worst was the lack of human contact. I was often so desperate to break that silence that I would ask myself questions and answer them out loud, as if I were interviewing myself. I would also enumerate every memory I could think of since birth, just to keep my mind active. Sometimes I just sat there and cried.
Later, when I was transferred to solitary confinement at the infamous Pelican Bay Prison, I forgot what human touch felt like. I was so desperate for contact – a handshake, a hug – that I would pet myself. When human touch finally came, it took the form of handcuffs being placed on my wrists and guards’ hands squeezing my neck.
I often tell people that I would have preferred physical beatings to isolation. Bruises and cuts heal, but the wounds in my mind and soul are so deep I don’t think I’ll ever fully recover.
Research has shown that exposure to solitary confinement can cause serious and often permanent harm to individuals. It also has a bigger impact on our society. Numerous studies have shown that the practice leads to higher recidivism rates, reduced parole awards, and perpetuated cycles of prison violence. Recent studies have also shown that solitary confinement increases the risk of premature death, even after release, as well as health care costs. Some medical experts estimate that reducing the practice at supermax facilities across the country could save taxpayers $155 million in overall future health care costs.
Since my release from prison I have started a new life. I now attend the University of California, Berkeley and am a member of the Underground Scholars Program, which builds a prison-to-school link for incarcerated and ex-incarcerated people. I am also working with other lonely survivors in California to limit the use of this practice in our jails and jails.
I’m one of the lucky few to be able to land on my feet after surviving in solitary confinement. Most of us end up drowning in an addiction or are so crippled by mental health issues that we are unable to lead healthy lives.
For many lonely survivors, our best chance for healing comes from working together to bring about change. In 2011 and 2013, I went on a hunger strike with thousands of other prisoners to protest the use of solitary confinement in California prisons, a practice that was widespread at the time and kept some people isolated for more than a decade. That organization, coupled with brilliant legal work in a class action lawsuit filed by thousands of people held in prolonged solitary confinement in California, resulted in the Ashker Settlement, which helped reshape solitary confinement in California.
The settlement challenged the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation’s indefinite use of solitary confinement. Despite the success of the litigation, however, judges have found that the department continues to deny due process to individuals and violate the terms of the agreement. Other states, including New York, have recently passed legislation to limit the use of solitaire. The United Nations has declared the use of prolonged solitary confinement as torture under the Nelson Mandela Rules.
Individual survivors, including myself, are now campaigning for California to join this movement. AB2632, “California Mandela Act on Solitary Confinement” by Assembly Member Chris Holden would help us with that. The bill ends the use of extended solitary confinement and sets a strict limit of 15 days. It also prohibits solitary confinement for special populations, including pregnant women, people with disabilities, and those under 25 and over 65. The bill’s goal is to demonstrate that alternatives to solitary confinement exist, and is rooted in providing programming and human interaction as a means to do so are ensure everyone’s safety.
The Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation has claimed the bill will cost the state billions and require new construction at each facility. This claim is untrue and is made in bad faith. In 2017, the Legislative Analyst’s Office found that Gov. Jerry Brown’s 2016-17 and 2017-18 budgets accounted for savings of more than $50 million by converting 469 “maximum security beds” — i.e. single beds — into 533 “beds for sensitive needs” were converted. This transition took place because of the Ashker settlement and shows how costly loners are. The Legislative Analyst further noted, “Since security shelters require more custody staff than most other units, these conversions would result in net savings.”
I recently co-authored a report showing how reducing solitary confinement could save California more than $60 million, with savings in the tens of millions in the future.
More important than saving money is the simple fact that the bill will save lives. We must protect future generations from the cruel and enduring harm that solitary confinement means.
Kevin McCarthy is a lone survivor and a member of the UC Berkeley Underground Scholars. He is also co-author of The Cost of Solitary Confinement: Why Ending Isolation in California Prisons Can Save Money and Save Lives.