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Prisoners often believe they are growing insane

Catherine Latimer, executive director of the John Howard Society, has her own perspective on solitary confinement: “If we found out that animals in a Humane Society shelter were being caged in circumstances where they were losing their sanity, injuring themselves, killing themselves, society would respond in a very heartfelt way. I can’t imagine why the response is any less with humans involved.”

Latimer believes animals in danger will evoke a heartfelt response — leading, perhaps, to better treatment. But it may be that the same compassion available to caged animals doesn’t extend to isolated prisoners. Many people have emotional connections to cats and dogs. But only a few of us have even made the acquaintance of a prisoner. The powerful morality we might hope would end solitary confinement stops short of humans. Everyone has some version of a moral sense but we tend to apply it selectively. If we want to know why solitary confinement still exists, perhaps this is the explanation.

In his tiny cell, Eddie Snowshoe plotted his final suicide attempt. Guards who found his body saw that the floor was covered with shampoo. Apparently he was afraid he might change his mind at the last moment, so he made it impossible to assume a firm standing position to escape from the noose he had devised. His plan was to let nothing get in the way of death. This strikes me as the most pathetic aspect of his story.

It may be that the same compassion available to caged animals doesn't extend to isolated prisoners

Chandra Bozelko, an American woman imprisoned for a series of white-collar crimes, spent a month in solitary. She reported on her ordeal: “Solitary shrinks a person with helplessness. After 30 days in segregation, I emerged gaunt and flappable, scared of everything.” She was alone for a fraction of the time Snowshoe was isolated, but it terrified her.