Prisons fascinate everyone, a British warden once said, because they are a closed community. 'It's one you only see if you've been inside.' What are the insides of Singapore's prisons like, and how do they compare to Western jails? Teh Joo Lin finds out.
When a warder steps into the Changi Prison dayroom, inmates stand at attention and call out: 'Good morning Sir!' This is part of a strict regime designed to instill discipline and a respect for authority. -- SINGAPORE PRISON SERVICE
INMATES at the old Changi Prison used to know when a warder was on his rounds by the sound of keys jangling against the cell doors.
But now, the electronic doors push open silently at the click of a mouse from a control centre.
That is just one of many innovations at the new Changi Prison Complex. The modern and mega-jailhouse has been designed to house all inmates from all the nation's prisons in one compound.
For now, only one of the four planned clusters of prison blocks has been completed, housing slightly fewer than half - over 5,000 - of the country's prisoners.
Surveillance cameras are planted everywhere, including in the lifts of the high-rise housing units and along the well-lit passageways. The electronic eyes - which can play back 14 days' worth of recording - make sure no infraction, however brief, passes unnoticed.
Before, there was a distress button to alert warders to prisoners in need of help. Now, there is an intercom in each cell.
Said a former senior prisons officer: 'It certainly is quieter. Last time, there was more bustle. The whole place looks quieter, more tranquil and serene.'
For sure, technology has been fused into the prison design for safety and security in the new complex. The budget for the building was $1 billion.
Some of the old prisons scattered around the island had been converted from military barracks and could hardly be described as purpose-built.
But the new prison buildings are also designed to ensure inmates' movements are very much reduced.
The officer said: 'In the past, inmates had to walk a longer distance, say, to work. The distance from the accommodation to the industrial area was quite long. Now, it's designed such that it's pretty much next door.'
Still, some things do not change.
Peek through the spy-hole of a cell door in a medium-security block and you will see a light apple-green room about the size of two ping-pong tables.
Unlike some prisons overseas, there are no beds, bunks or sheets for its three residents. Just straw mats and blankets on the concrete floor. Prisons director Ng Joo Hee said: 'When foreigners come to our prison, the first question they ask is: 'Where are the beds?'
'There are toilets in every cell, a shower, water, food. It's humane but it's spartan.'
He said the prisons had experimented with putting beds in the cells, but inmates still slept on the floor because it was cooler.
One concession: a 'shower' area at the back of each cell. Some of the old prisons had common shower rooms.
The toilet and shower system in each cell is suicide-proof, activated by flat buttons, so that prisoners intending to hang themselves have no anchor point.
There seems to be little dispute that prisoners in Singapore have it tougher than their Western counterparts.
In countries like Switzerland, some elements of modern living have seeped into prison life. Most cells there have a television set, according to an Associated Press report in June. During the European Championship that month, well-behaved inmates at one Swiss prison were allowed to watch the matches around a big screen.
In Britain, prisoners with the most privileges can play computer games on Xbox and PlayStation.
Mr Ng gave a list of other amenities he had observed from the prisons he had visited: 'You have hot water kettles. You have buffets where you can eat as much as you like.'
In Singapore, only death-row inmates can watch free-to-air television in their cells. They are issued with remote controls.
For the rest, it is the TV set in the dayroom - outside the cells. The prison authorities determine what is aired: in-house productions, pre-recorded movies, variety shows and documentaries that are non-violent, non-sexual and non-religious.
Prisoners do get newspapers, but articles that could foment unrest are blacked out or cut out.
Stand hut
CHANGI Prison Complex is also governed by a military-like regimen.
When a warder comes into the dayroom, the inmates drop whatever they are doing, stand at attention and call out: 'Good afternoon, Sir!'
The need to greet is part of a strict regime designed to instil discipline and respect for authority in criminals who enter Singapore's jails for the first time.
'In some Western prisons, you can wear civilian clothing, you can grow your hair long, you get paid to be in prisons - everyone gets paid an allowance even if you don't work,' Mr Ng said.
In Singapore, prisoners are issued three sets of white T-shirts and shorts. Men have their heads shaved. Inmates are paid a nominal sum - if they choose to participate in the variety of work programmes available in the prisons, from baking to visual design.
Singapore Prisons makes no apologies for the tough regime.
'It's a fundamental philosophy we hold on to. We operate a strict regime because these people have done harm and they have to pay for the harm they have done,' said Mr Ng.
A former senior prison officer said inmates are not even allowed to pick their own team-mates for games.
'You cannot let them run around and do whatever they want. They'll learn more bad things in prison. Naughty prisoners infect one another.'
It is a philosophy that has its detractors.
In an April report on the BBC, a prison officer union leader slammed British jails for being so comfortable that inmates do not even think of escape.
Responding to that, a British Ministry of Justice spokesman maintained that relaxed prison conditions were appropriate. He said: 'The punishment of the court is loss of liberty - harsh regimes do not lead to rehabilitation or a reduction in reoffending.'
The debate belies a wider schism in academia.
Some experts say that harsh prison conditions deter inmates and the public from further committing crime. Others believe poor conditions can lead to more crime because inmates feel dehumanised and end up embittered towards the outside world.
Most studies on this issue stand on the side of harsher conditions.
However, a study published by a group of Italian academics in March found that harsher prison treatment did not reduce released inmates' criminal activity.
Mr Ng takes the view that the strict regime and the prison's efforts to ensure inmates do not re-offend are separate issues, but former inmates here have cited prison 'discipline' as a key reason why they are now on the straight and narrow.
A former convict, who was once jailed for assault, said: 'Before I went into prison, there was no one to control me and I did all sorts of wrong things outside. But in jail, one will be punished if he didn't follow the rules. This forced me to build discipline in my character for the first time in my life.'
So instead of 'smoking, drinking and mixing with the wrong people', the 26-year- old channelled his efforts towards his studies. He is now working towards a degree after his recent release.
With information like inmate deaths, living space and health-care expenditure per prisoner hard to come by, it is difficult to compare prison conditions worldwide.
But a United States Department of State study on human rights in 2006 said of Singapore: 'Prison conditions, while spartan, generally met international standards.'
In Singapore's prisons, a knee-high wall separates the squat toilet - which is integrated with the shower - from the sleeping part of the cell.
There are staff nurses on call round-the-clock and doctors during the day to treat inmates for illnesses such as flu and fever.
More serious cases go to a mini hospital within the complex, where there are operating theatres, a dental room and wards, including rooms for prisoners with infectious diseases like chicken pox.
And as is the case with life outside prison walls, there is employment.
Signing up for work is not compulsory, unlike other prisons like those in Norway.
'You are free to not work, but if you work, you get a small allowance and then we make you save half of that allowance so that you can give money back to your family,' said Mr Ng. Inmates also use the money to buy things such as chocolate bars and other tidbits.
There are other little rewards for those with no disciplinary problems. Well-behaved inmates are allowed to write more than two letters home in a month and to send greeting cards to loved ones on their birthdays. Female prisoners can get their eyebrows plucked.
Good inmates can eventually hope for 'open visits', which means they can see their loved ones without a glass barrier between them.
This is a real privilege as visits are typically confined to just two a month, one of which is a 'tele-visit', during which family members call in on their loved ones via video-conferences.
Mr Ng summed up Singapore's prisoner management system thus: 'Our primary focus is running safe and secure prisons. We're not going soft, and we will never go soft.'
The prisons here are not so harsh that prisoners have no recourse if they feel they are being unfairly treated.
The system allows for individuals known as Justices of Peace to spring surprise inspections on jailhouses to hear inmate complaints about the conditions they are in.
According to Mr Ng, inmates have tattled that the fish served up is smelly. Then there are those who have grumbled about the lack of soap.
In some prisons here, inmates get four bars of soap a month, which works out to 48 a year. In other jails, they get one a week, or 52 annually.
Mr Ng said: 'That's a difference of four, and to them it's a big difference. We try our best. I mean, we must be running a good system when inmates are complaining about four bars of soap a year!'
'It's a fundamental philosophy we hold on to. We operate a strict regime because these people have done harm and they have to pay for the harm they have done.' Prisons director Ng Joo Hee