Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Jail, Incarnation, and the Digital Age


Every day sees new technology coming into our hands.  Moore's Law famously observes that computer processing can be expected to DOUBLE every 18 months to 2 years. The saturation of technology into our world feeds on itself to promote exponential growth. As computers get faster, they can accomplish new tasks we could never dream of previously. The current trend is for computer systems to be sewn into every fabric of our lives, sometimes quite literally. Smart watches, smart TV's, smart thermostats, self-driving cars--everything is becoming interconnected, and these trends show no signs of slowing down. As we speak, major tech companies like Google, IBM, and Facebook are rushing to perfect artificial intelligence, which will completely revolutionize the way we relate to and utilize technology.

With technology constantly invading every sector of society, it's no surprise that it's changing the way many jails and prisons operate. One particularly novel development is the advent of "video visitations." Instead of a visitor sitting down with an inmate, they stand in a booth with a phone and a video screen (or sometimes use their computer from home) and chat with the offender. Right now, about 500 jails and prisons are using this technology. (You can read more about video visitation from this NPR article).


At first glance, there seem to be many benefits to video visitations. For one, a family member can visit with the offender even if they live on the opposite side of the country. From a prison security perspective, digital visitations also prevent the exchange of contraband and can better record visits.

But some advocates have raised the ethical concern about what such visitations are doing to inmate health and to the human relationships involved. As we all know, there is a substantial emotional and mental difference between visiting someone on a screen and visiting them in-person. For instance, my brother has been out of the country for the past several months, and it has been a blessing to be able to Skype with him several times during his absence. Yet, despite the amazing capabilities of that technology, it will be 100 times better when he is home for Christmas and I can hug him and sit next to him while talking.

The importance of personal interactions is even more precious for inmates and their families. NPR quoted one mother as saying, "I can't stand it, because he's on the screen in front of me, and I can't touch him." One might ask, though, if it bothers this mother so much, why doesn't she just ask for an in-person visit. Here's the kicker. When her son's prison installed the video visitation system, part of their contract with the system's company was that they would end in-person visits and only use the video visitation system. So, even though her son is only a few hundred feet from her in the prison, all she can do is see him on a small screen and listen to his voice through a low-quality phone line.

When asked about these concerns, some detention administrators simply make the argument that this is another right that the offender forfeits when they break the law. You break the law; you pay "hard time," and sometimes this means not being able to sit face to face with your loved ones.

For Christians, this is an issue we need to think about. While the video visitation technology is an amazing development, it should only be used as a supplement to in-person visitations. Taking away flesh and blood visits strikes at the very heart of our faith. The Christian faith is relational and incarnational at its core.

In the beginning God existed not just as a single being, but as a triad of relationships. He is three-in-one; relationships have mattered since before the beginning of time. Likewise, physicality matters. God was not content to simply create a bunch of minds or a spiritual world. Rather, he took on the task of creating matter and a physical world filled with bodies of flesh and blood and bone.

Finally, as we currently walk through the season of Advent, we are reminded that relationships work best in-person. After all, Jesus did not simply offer His revelation to us as a voice from a cloud. He did not simply appear as an adult who just needed to die for our sins. Rather, "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us." Jesus was messily born as a tiny infant, experienced all of childhood, and walked dusty roads with friends and enemies as an adult.


Gregory of Nazianzus gave a theological reason why Jesus had to live the entirety of human life when he said, "What has not been assumed has not been healed." In other words, if we are saved through the person of Jesus, then only the parts of life that Jesus lived and experienced can be saved. Yet, it's telling that Jesus did not simply go through life stoically offering teachings. Instead, we see him caring for other lives, lifting the head of a dead little girl, touching a leper, sharing meals and partying. He lived out real-life, in-person relationships. It seems that personal human interactions were a part of life Jesus wanted to save.

When thinking about any new use of technology, people of faith need to be very wary of the possibility of dehumanization that is always lurking around. We see it in the crooked necks of our neighbors and family members glued to their phone screens. We see it in the redefinition of "friend" via social media. Massive data mining programs reduce individuals and personalities to ID numbers and a string of 0's and 1's. The siren call invites us to use technology to usurp authentic human relationships.

We also need to be wary of our natural lust for punishment and vengeance. It can be easy to dismiss the concerns by arguing that inmates and felons "don't deserve" in-person visitations. We lapse back into old arguments about how prison needs to be less comfortable and more punitive. Besides the fact that research suggests "hard time" is not effective at rehabilitation, such a mindset can actually add to the list of victims.

What often goes ignored is the negative impact on people besides the offender. What about the family and friends of the inmate? They didn't commit the crime. Is it fair or just to deprive a mother or a child of face-to-face interactions with their child or parent? Or what about those instances where a victim would like to face their offender and look them in the eyes? Will they be satisfied looking at eyes merely made of pixels?

These face-to-face interactions play a crucial role in our justice system. For both the offender and their visitors, these visitations can bring comfort, peace, understanding, grief, joy, and healing. When we strip the offender of human interaction, we also strip it away from others who may desperately want or need it too. We strip a part of their humanity. As Christians who believe in redemption, our goal for our justice system should be the rehabilitation of offenders and the healing of victims and family members. Punishment is not the Christian goal for justice.

We must seriously consider how the use of video visitation enhances or harms this goal of rehabilitation. If the incarnation of Jesus teaches us that there is something meaningful, and even holy, about interpersonal, flesh-and-blood interactions, then stripping away this dimension of human relationships will inevitably have consequences. We must ask whether taking away all in-person visitations will do more help or harm to all parties involved.

Defenses of only using video visitations are also foolish when they argue that the loss of touch and physical intimacy is simply a right that is forfeited in the course of breaking the law. For one, it naively puts too much trust in our justice system. Every defense attorney, judge, and prosecutor can point you to instances of wrongful conviction. There are many individuals sitting in prison who have been convicted of a crime they didn't commit because of some miscarriage of justice. Or what about in county jails (where such video systems are actually more likely to be used than in prison)? Most of those in county jail are awaiting a trial or plea deal and have not yet been found guilty. Is it just or humane to strip the wrongly convicted, the innocent, and those not yet guilty of the right to real human interactions?

Or should all crimes be treated equally in this manner? Even if we buy into the concept of "hard time," do a murderer and an occasional drug user both deserve the same punishment of not being able to touch or sit across from loved ones?

However, perhaps one of the most troubling aspects of all this is how dehumanization comes by way of the god of money. It's telling that the idea for going completely virtual with visitations did NOT originate with detention centers concerned about safety and prohibiting contraband. Rather, it seems to be an idea pushed by the tech companies involved. They are the ones requiring detention centers to only use their video systems. And it makes business sense--ending in-person visits means more money for the tech company.


Even worse, these tech companies invite jails and prisons to partake in this business by offering them a cut of the profits. While video-chatting at the jail is free, a family member who video-chats from home usually has to pay a fee, and this fee gets split between the tech company and the jail. In other words, the quality of human interaction is diminished, an extra barrier of cost is added, and detention centers can profit off of this. Similar to the risks involved with privately-ran prisons, the love of money and the need to make a profit can quickly eclipse human rights and dignity.

As Christians, this should alarm us. The incarnation and life of Jesus show us that relationships matter and people matter. So, whenever we see corporate profit being put above human well-being, we must stand up and speak. When the impersonal forces of money and business threaten to trump the personal dimensions of human relationships, we must object because we serve a personal, relational God.

There is something about sitting down a foot or two from another human being. When you can see, hear, touch, and smell them, something holy occurs. It's a precious space no technology can replace. I believe God designed us to crave and require such intimacy. And when that personal intimacy is removed, that's when we see people consumed by the demons in their heads and devolve in the monsters of our darker nature.

It doesn't matter who the person is--upstanding citizen or murderous felon. Jesus showed no favoritism. His incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection remind us that all are welcome to partake of redemption. So, may this Christmas season remind us that we were made for more than simply screens and phones and social media. We were made to touch and hug and love. And may we be a people of character and conscience who see trends like this and stand up for the most broken ones of our society.

God is with us, may we learn to truly be with others.