Those who say that punishment is for the purpose of reforming the prisoner are not familiar with human psychology.  The prison almost invariably tends to brutalize men and breeds bitterness and blank despair.  The life of the ordinary prisoner is given over to criticism and resentment against existing things, especially to settled hatred of those who are responsible for his punishment.  Only a few, and these are the weakest, ever blame themselves for their situation.  Every man of intelligence can trace the various steps that led him to the prison door, and he can feel, if he does not understand, how inevitable each step was.  The number of “repeaters” in prison shows the effect of this kind of a living death upon the inmates.  To be branded as a criminal and turned out in the world again leaves one weakened in the struggle of life and handicapped in a race that is hard enough for most men at the best.  In prison and after leaving prison, the man lives in a world of his own; a world where all moral values are different from those professed by the jailer and society in general.  The great influence that helps to keep many men from committing crime—­the judgment of his fellows—­no longer deters him in his conduct.  In fact, every person who understands penal institutions—­no matter how well such places are managed—­knows that a thousand are injured or utterly destroyed by service in prison, where one is helped.

Very few persons seriously believe that offenders are sent to prison out of kindness to the men.  If there were any foundation for this idea, each prisoner would be carefully observed, and when he was fit would be returned to the world.  Not even the parole laws, which provide various reasons and ways for shortening sentences, ever lay down the rule that one may be released when he has reformed.

A much larger class of people offers the excuse that punishment deters from crime.  In fact, this idea is so well rooted that few think of questioning it.  The idea that punishment deters from crime does not mean that the individual prisoner is prevented from another criminal act.  A convicted man is kept in jail for as long a time as in the judgment of the jury, the court, or the parole board, will make him atone, or at least suffer sufficiently for the offence.  If the terms are not long enough, they can be made longer.  The idea that punishment deters, means that unless A shall be punished for murder, then B will kill; therefore A must be punished, not for his own sake, but to keep B from crime.  This is vicarious punishment which can hardly appeal to one who is either just or humane.  But does punishing A keep B from the commission of crime?  It certainly does not make a more social man of B. If it operates on him in any way it is to make him afraid to commit crime; but the direct result of scaring B is not to keep him from the commission of crime, but to make him use precautions that will keep him safe from discovery.  How far the fear of detection and punishment prevents crime is, of course, purely theoretical and cannot be settled either by statistics or logic.  One thing is sure, that if B is kept from crime, it is through fear, and of all the enemies of man, fear is the one which causes most misery and pain.