In the late 1990s, this fearless author took work as a psychologist at the Psychiatric Services Unit (PSU) of his local jail, a service that was provided by our State University, through a Federal court order. (See “Jail as a Psychiatric Emergency Room” in American Jails, September/October 1998.) It was his job to clinically supervise counselors and social workers in the provision of mental health services to jail inmates. Services included intake evaluation to insure that mentally ill jail inmates got necessary treatment from the time they were received into the facility until discharge. It included crisis intervention and counseling in order to minimize risk to inmates and correction officers. At the beginning of the University’s involvement in PSU, there was some enthusiasm for the new program. The PSU psychiatrist was especially enthusiastic about doing research among the jail population and he actively encouraged me to think about the kind of research I would like to do.
For those readers who are unaware, research in most fields is typically framed in response to previous research in that field. To begin a study, a researcher does what is called a literature review, that is, a survey of research that preceded and is relevant to the topic of interest so that previous knowledge can be extended through your efforts. If you have ever wondered why so much scientific literature, particularly in psychology, seems overly precious, abstract, and not practical, it is because this attention to previous research to formulate future research projects causes researchers to study individual psychology through a lens that is ground in an academic environment rather than in the real world. After all, that is where scientific literature mostly comes from. The faculty is required to research (publish or perish!) and graduate students are trained to do research with the idea that they will first join the faculty in their efforts, then replace them. For this reason, one may think of a university as a research factory.
Perhaps more than in most fields, psychological research is scrupulous in the use of research and statistical controls in order to obtain reliable results in an area of study. To accomplish this, any investigation must control for the effects of extraneous and random variables. The problem is, of course, that the researcher is trying to control variables that are in all likelihood represented chaotically in subjects’ brains as a result of daily experiences that have occurred throughout individuals’ lifetimes. For a researcher, this is almost like a judge directing jurors not to discuss a case during criminal proceedings. The jurors may comply with the order, but there is an equal likelihood that they will not. The same is true when applying rigorous research procedures to the chaos of the human brain.
(I recall, as a young man, being called for jury duty on a celebrated murder case, one that I had not followed in the media, but of which I knew some details. The judge directed the prospective jurors not to discuss the case as we waited to be called into the courtroom in groups of 12 for voir dire.
[http://www.legal-explanations.com/definitions/voir-dire.htm]
Most of us went onto the balcony for air. Within minutes, I heard someone in our group proclaim with more than a little irritation, “I know he’s guilty!” So much for the sanctity of the judicial system! Just think of all those brains laboring under the order of that particular judge. Then, imagine those same brains laboring under the scrutiny of a researcher trying to follow predetermined procedures to ensure that the influence of extraneous or random factors are controlled or eliminated.)
Despite all this, in response to our psychiatrist’s excitement, I began to think about the kind of research that would be useful and that I would find interesting. Strangely, I found that my thinking drifted more into the area of economics than psychology. Specifically, I began to think about jail economics with an eye for how a very restricted economy would affect individual and group decision-making. My thinking was that, if a comprehensive list of valued commodities in the jail could be derived– for example prescribed and contraband drugs, shanks and other weapons, and sex toys (human and otherwise), for example– and the flow of commodities somehow tracked, that a number of important socio-economic and psychological issues would emerge, including power differentials, affiliations, and community stressors that impact inmate psychology. In my imagination, this type of information would be useful in doing psychological assessments and providing treatment at the jail. It may also, according to my thinking, allow rare insight into environmental stressors that could possibly be used to reduce discontent among the inmates and prevent riot.
The idea, I knew, was creative and was likely not doable. But, as I thought, the attempt alone would be useful in uncovering important variables that contribute to the uniqueness of the jail community and that influence the various psychologies of inmates, officers, and staff, everyone in the jail community. As I was lost in contemplation of how I would proceed with this innovative research topic, the psychiatrist said that I had to meet the Great Kahuna, the feared psychiatrist who supervised him and ultimately the entire PSU project.
NEXT: The mental health wars: Money Doctors versus Phony Doctors. (Raise your hand if you know anything!)- Part 2. Meeting the Great Kahuna
