American Prison: A Reporter’s Undercover Journey into the Business of Punishment

The Winn Correctional Center is located thirteen miles outside of Winnfield, LA, a town of 4,600 and “the kind of place you’d only remember because some lonesome image stuck in your mind” (11). The prison, located in the Kisatchie National Forest, is a concrete compound situated among 600,000 acres of yellow pine. Despite the camera equipment in his front seat, Bauer passes through the security gate, parks outside the training facility, and enters the classroom. He is wary, convinced that CCA management knows his true identity. Eventually, five more cadets join him. Winn’s Human Resources director comes in and lists specific protocols—no sex with inmates, avoid the prison food—as well as benefits—three free counseling sessions a year, in the event of suicidal thoughts. They watch a series of videos, a pep-talk by CEO Damon Hininger, and a history of the company by its two founding members. Opening in 1984, CCA was originally a detention facility for undocumented immigrants. The concept of profiting from imprisonment was not new, and for founder T. Don Hutto it was “as old as the idea of forcing black men to pick cotton” (15).

Looking to the past for context, Bauer tells the story of Albert Race Sample, a young man with a diverse racial background who grew up in a brothel in Texas with his Black mother. In 1956, after a series of low-wage jobs, Sample began picking cotton. Unused to the demands of the job, he was slow, and his productivity lagged. The crew boss threatened to shoot him for his low output, but another boss said, “I don’t believe this bastard’s even worth the price of a good load of buckshot. Besides, you might splatter n***** shit all over my boots and mess up my shine” (18). As punishment, Sample was ordered back to the field with no food or water.

Sample, who had been convicted of assault and sentenced to 30 years, worked on a prison plantation, an institutionalized system of prison labor that netted the state of Texas about $1.7 million a year in 1956 dollars. Although slavery had been abolished for nearly a century, the Thirteenth Amendment states, “‘neither slavery nor involuntary servitude’ shall exist in the United States ‘except as punishment for a crime’” (19). This key loophole allowed privately-owned businesses like cotton plantations, lumber mills, and coal mines to take advantage of forced prison labor. Brutal punishments like whipping and isolating several prisoners together in tiny spaces were legal in some states until the 1960s. CCA co-founder T. Don Hutto, formerly a warden of one such plantation prison, learned the business of incarceration in this for-profit environment, cutting costs whenever possible, including by empowering other inmates to enforce discipline. By the late 1960s, Hutto developed a reputation for turning plantation prisons into profitable enterprises.

With a concealed camera and microphone, Bauer heads out for his second day of training, but his truck breaks down. He hitches a ride with a logger who tells him that Winn has a high turnover rate among COs. That day’s training is led by Tucker, the head of Winn’s tactical response team, who explains the importance of calling for backup in any prisoner confrontation. Tucker advocates a distinctly hands-off approach in the event of an inmate knife fight. When one cadet suggests simply yelling at them to stop, Tucker agrees: “Damn right. That’s it. If they don’t pay attention to you, hey, there ain’t nothing else you can do” (25). When Bauer suggests pepper spray as a solution, Tucker informs him that COs are not issued pepper spray or nightsticks, only radios.

As Tucker runs through various scenarios—hostage situations, using tear gas—it becomes apparent that the endgame is survival at all costs. If that means abandoning fellow COs to save yourself from a mob of inmates or gassing an asthmatic inmate, it’s all fine as long as “we go home at the end of the day” (26). Later, Tucker takes the cadets to an open field and tear gasses them, admonishing them to stay in formation and not run. A spokesman for CCA later tells Bauer that exposure to tear gas is not a required part of CO training.

Another instructor, Kenny, lectures the cadets about the importance of cost-effectiveness. If Winn is not profitable, CCA will shut it down. He also stresses the need to keep inmates in their place and not allow them to gain a psychological advantage. Though more subtle than Tucker, Kenny displays the same callous disregard for both inmates and staff, chuckling over an inmate’s sexual assault of a sleeping CO that he didn’t like. He issues veiled threats to the cadets about monitoring each other and reporting back to the warden. Bauer feels these remarks may be targeted at him, and, not for the first time, he fears his cover is compromised.

One morning, during a self-defense exercise, Bauer partners with Kenny in order “to confront this problem” (32). Without flinching, he stares Kenny down during the duration of the exercise until the tension between them “dissipates.” During a break, Bauer mingles with other cadets and finds a range of personality types, from introverted and compassionate to eager and sadistic. They all have one thing in common, however: They are poor, and this job is their only option.