Prison Officers: Pension Age

Ronnie Cowan Excerpts

Tuesday 16th November 2021 Westminster Hall

[Gordon Henderson]

I do agree with the hon. Gentleman. There is a secondary threat to prison officers, which I have raised in several previous debates, from the fumes of some of those drugs. Prison officers with whom I have come into contact have often gone into cells and been seriously affected by them. It is a huge problem.

In addition, we have to remember that most inmates do not wish to be in a prison environment and may be unco-operative at best or aggressive and violent at worst. That makes the expectation that prison officers should have to work until they are 68 not only completely unjust, but frankly dangerous.

As I pointed out, police officers and firefighters are permitted to retire at 60, because it is acknowledged that they do a dangerous and stressful job, as the hon. Member for Wansbeck (Ian Lavery) said. It can be physically demanding and contains significant elements of risk and volatility. Why are prison officers, who work in equally dangerous and demanding operational environments, not treated in the same way? I believe that the answer is because, as I have also mentioned, the Prison Service is the Cinderella emergency service. Prison officers are treated as second-class emergency workers. Not only are they paid less than police officers, but they are often denied access to the same level of protection as their police counterparts.

For instance, prison officers are required to carry a large amount of equipment on a daily basis, which is estimated to weigh between 2.5 kg and 3 kg. Most prison officers are forced to use only a utility belt to carry it. Requests to use utility vests similar to those worn by the police were refused on the grounds that prisoners would find them intimidating. I find that reasoning deeply insulting and illogical. Why should a prisoner feel any more intimidated by a prison officer wearing a utility vest than a member of the public holding a conversation with a police officer wearing the same style of vest?

In addition, some prison officers are being denied access to the body-worn cameras that are vital in providing evidence if assaults, including serious assaults, committed against them are ever to be prosecuted. I understand that some prisons have been told to stop investing in body-worn cameras until a new system is available in November 2022. Although the new system is said to be safer and more effective, in the interim it will potentially leave thousands of assaults unrecorded and unsupported by evidence, which in turn means that the perpetrators are less likely to be prosecuted.

It is worth mentioning that of the nearly 79,000 prisoners currently incarcerated under the Prison Service, 30% have been convicted of offences involving violence against the person, so it should come as no surprise that attacks on prison officers are increasing. According to the Office for National Statistics, there were 8,476 assaults on prison staff in the 12 months to September 2020, which is 35% of all incidents of assault that occurred on the prison estate. Some 823 of those were serious assaults. The Government’s definition of serious assault in the context of the prison estate is as follows:

“Serious assaults are those which fall into one or more of the following categories: a sexual assault; requires detention in outside hospital as an in-patient; requires medical treatment for concussion or internal injuries; or incurs any of the following injuries: a fracture, scald or burn, stabbing, crushing, extensive or multiple bruising, black eye, broken nose, lost or broken tooth, cuts requiring suturing, bites, temporary or permanent blindness.”

I have been contacted by many constituents who work in the Prison Service and have suffered such assaults in the line of duty. I have seen with my own eyes the appalling results, including broken bones, severe facial injuries and some life-changing injuries, such as an officer who had his finger bitten off.

Let us not forget that such attacks will also have a psychological impact on the victims, and in some cases an assault will stay with the officer long after the physical injuries have healed—potentially for the rest of their life. Although the number of assaults has decreased slightly over the course of the pandemic, it is worth noting that, even with inmates spending far less time out of their cells, the number is still more than double what it was six years ago.

[Ronnie Cowan (Inverclyde) (SNP)]

The Government are on record as saying that they do not treat prison officers the same as police officers and firefighters because prison officers do not face the same risks of injury, and that the difference is not an age thing. Does the hon. Gentleman share my concern that a prison officer will have to be very seriously injured, or even die, before the Government step up and treat them as equals?

[Gordon Henderson]

Yes, sadly I have to agree with the hon. Gentleman. The statistics do not bear out the Government’s claim that police officers suffer as many injuries as prison officers; it is simply not the case. One of the problems is that, if somebody attacks a police officer, all hell breaks loose, and every effort is made to catch the perpetrator. If a prison officer is injured, the injury is hidden under the carpet; the perpetrator gets a slap on the wrist—if they even get that. The hon. Gentleman is right. The figures that I have quoted will continue to rise; there is no doubt about it.

With that in mind, is it really fair or safe not only to expect a prison officer in their 60s to restrain violent criminals in their 20s or 30s, some of whom have very little left to lose even if they carry out the most violent acts of which they are capable, but to entrust the safety and wellbeing of other officers and prisoners to the ability of that prison officer to restrain those criminals? It is simply unacceptable. It is not an exaggeration to say that that scenario might eventually cost lives, and that surely invites the question of why prison officers are not treated in the same way as their fellow emergency workers.

It is worth reminding the House that section 8 of the Prison Act 1952 states that serving prison officers

“shall have all the powers, authority, protection and privileges of a constable.”

If that is the case, why do prison officers not have the same equipment to protect themselves as their police colleagues, and why are they not allowed to retire at 60, like their police colleagues? Unlike other emergency workers, prison officers spend their working lives effectively in prison themselves, in high-security environments and looking over their shoulders, especially when staffing levels on a landing are not as they should be because of difficulties retaining officers—often as a result of their relatively poor pay and working conditions.

Prison officers not only face physical violence but run the daily risk of other acts from inmates, such as “potting”—a disgusting and outrageous practice where urine or excrement are thrown over prison staff simply going about their duties and ensuring the orderly running of the prison. As I said, prison officers also face the risk of exposure to the fumes of powerful synthetic drugs such as spice, which can have health implications if inhaled accidentally.

In addition to all that, between April 2020 and March 2021 there were 38 instances of hostage taking across the prison estate. There were also 1,217 instances of barricades or prevention of access—whereby one or more offender denies access to all or part of a prison to those lawfully empowered to have such access by use of a physical barrier. There were 159 instances of concerted indiscipline where

“two or more prisoners act together in defiance of a lawful instruction.”

As a result of such things, officers often need to use physical intervention, or force, to overcome situations where lives may be at stake and time is likely to be of the essence. It is another example of a situation where officers in their 60s may be put at specific risk. They are targeted by troublemakers as more vulnerable targets because of their age. That is to the detriment of not only the officer’s own safety, but the safety of their colleagues and inmates. Statistics from the Ministry of Justice’s website clearly show that such incidents are far from hypothetical or atypical.

While prison officers face this relentless threat of violence and aggression, there are other pressures on them that add to their already high stress levels. For instance, prison officers often have to take on the role of informal counsellors, helping people who have perhaps never before had any meaningful structure or authority figures in their lives. Trying to help people with addictions or mental health problems, or dealing with prisoners who want to talk about traumatic incidents from their own past, are stressful situations for prison officers.