Today, for the first time ever, Congress is holding a hearing to look into the problems created by solitary confinement (listen here for a live stream and here to read testimony submitted to the Subcommittee).  The ACLU of Maine and the ACLU National Prison Project have been pushing for reform and reduction of solitary confinement for years, both in Maine and nationally.  We took advantage of this groundbreaking opportunity to submit testimony urging Congress to recognize that prolonged isolation of prisoners and isolation of even short durations for prisoners with serious mental illness violate both human rights and constitutional rights. 

We were pleased to be able to outline, in our testimony, the amazing changes taking place in Maine's correctional facilities.  In the past year, Maine has reduced the use of solitary confinement by 70%!

"Stark and foreboding...scarcely larger than the size of a king size bed...the only time they are physically touched is when they are placed in restraint." Dr. Craig Haney, leading expert on the psychological effects of solitary confinement describing the practice in many US prisons in his testimony before Congress.   He has documented that solitary confinement creates, "in some cases grotesque forms of self harm and mutilation....[as well as ] cognitive dysfunction, hopeless, depression, anger and rage."

Much of testimony submitted to Congress outlines the clear and mounting evidence that the stress of being placed alone, in a small box, for all but five hours per week can cause serious psychological damage and create mental illness in previously healthy inmates.

Solitary confinement should be extremely limited and governed by clear due process. 
  • It should be used only in response to clear danger or violence that cannot be controlled in other settings.
  • All prisoners should be screened before being placed and should be assessed periodically,
  • And all prisoner should have a meaningful opportunity to challenge placement in solitary confinement.
Solitary confinement jeopardizes our public safety, is fundamentally inhumane and wastes taxpayer dollars. We must insist on humane and more cost-effective methods of punishment and prison management.

Hopefully, “Reassessing Solitary Confinement: The Human Rights, Fiscal, and Public Safety Consequences”  will focus much needed attention on this dire problem. 

Fortunately, some in Congress seem to be getting the message. 

Senator Durbin, "Do you believe 23 hours per day isolation has a detrimental impact?   Do  you believe you could live in a box like that, 23 hours a day, and you could go in 'normal' and still come back out that way?"

No Senator, we don't.

For more on what the ACLU and prisoner advocates are doing across the country, check out Stop Solitary.

And read more
heartwrenching testimony describing the horrors experienced by those subjected to solitary, like the below excerpt from Stuart Andrews, Jr., here at Solitary Watch.


"F. Death by Neglect: Jerome Laudman and Lee Supermax

Perhaps the single most deplorable solitary confinement unit in the South Carolina prison system is the cellblock at Lee Correctional Institution known as Lee Supermax. Department officials insist this is not a true maximum security unit and prefer to characterize it as the "cells with private showers." Lee Supermax cells do, in fact, have private showers controlled by security staff, but the shower drains are stopped up, according to inmate testimony. As a result, when the showers are turned on they flood the cells, leaving standing water six inches high. Inmates describe the cells as cold, vermin-infested, and filthy.

On February 18, 2008 an inmate named Jerome Laudman was found in a Lee Supermax cell, lying naked without a blanket or mattress, face down on a concrete floor in vomit and feces. He died later that day in a nearby hospital. The cause of death was a heart attack, but hospital records also noted hypothermia, with a body temperature upon arrival at the hospital of only 80.6 degrees. Ex. 12 at 900-01, 909.

On June 8, 2008 an internal investigator for the Department of Corrections issued a report on Mr. Laudman's death. Ex. 12. That investigative report is the source for the following information.

Jerome Laudman suffered from schizophrenia, mental retardation, and a speech impediment. Ex. 12 at 908. According to his mental health counselor, Laudman had never acted in an aggressive or threatening manner. Id. at 909. On February 7, 2008 – eleven days before his death – Laudman was moved to Lee Supermax, purportedly for hygiene reasons, although no one admitted to ordering the move. Id. at 901-03. The move was videotaped per policy, but when viewed the tape played for "less than a few minutes" before going blank. Id. at 901. A correctional officer told the investigator that the lieutenant in charge physically threw Laudman, who was naked and handcuffed, into the Supermax cell, even though Laudman was not resisting. When the lieutenant realized he had placed Laudman in the wrong cell, he took him out and "shoved" him into the right cell, where Laudman, still handcuffed, fell on the concrete bunk. Id. at 901. According to his mental health counselor, Laudman was not on crisis intervention, even though he was placed in Supermax without clothing, blanket, or mattress. Id. at 902. The mental health counselor stated he was never made aware of Laudman's transfer to Supermax. Id.

On February 11, one week before Laudman's death, a correctional officer saw him "stooped over like he was real weak or sick." The officer noticed food trays piled up. He considered notifying a unit captain or administrator about Laudman's condition but his supervisor advised him against it. Id. at 904. Two other Supermax inmates grew concerned that week because Laudman was "ignored by officers" and three or four days had passed without any noises from Laudman's cell. The inmates warned officers that Laudman was not eating, taking his medicine, or getting out of bed. Id. at 903-04.

On the morning of February 18, Officer Shepard saw Laudman lying on the floor of his cell in "feces and stuff." Shepard notified his supervisor, but was told "not to stress about it." Shepard noted that Laudman stayed in the same position all morning. Id. at 905.

That afternoon two nurses, Andrews and Thompson, were called to Laudman's cell where they found him lying facedown covered in feces and vomit, but still alive. A number of styrofoam trays lay about the cell containing rotting, molding food. One of the nurses described the stench from the cell as the worst thing she had ever smelled in her life. Id. at 905-07.

The conditions were so foul that both nurses and officers refused to enter the cell to remove Laudman. Instead, they called for two inmate hospice workers. They had to wait, however, for count to clear, so it was a half hour before they arrived. After the inmate hospice workers removed Laudman from his cell he was transported to a nearby hospital, where he died later that day.  Id. at 905-07.