|   Beyond the Ken of the Courts     The statutory framework in which responsibility for the conditions of
        confinement and the treatment of prisoners was broadly delegated to penitentiary
        officials was buttressed by the reluctance of the courts in Canada (as
        in the United States and England) to review the decisions of prison officials
        in response to challenges by prisoners to inhumane conditions or unfair
        treatment. The court's role was to enforce legal rights; since prisoners
        were seen as persons without rights, their complaints were necessarily
        beyond the ken of the courts. This rationale for what has been called
        the "hands-off" doctrine was later supplemented by an additional argument,
        that "judicial review of such administrative decisions [would] subvert
        the authority of prison officials, the discipline of prisoners, and the
        efforts of prison administrators to accomplish the objectives of the system
        which is entrusted to their care and management" (Note "Beyond the Ken
        of the Courts: A Critique of Judicial Refusal to Review the Complaints
        of Convicts" [1963] 72   Yale Law Journal  
        506 at 509).
          The persistence of the hands-off doctrine in the United States has been
        described in this way by John Dilulio:     As late as 1970, judges played a negligible role in
        the administration of prisons. For most of the previous two centuries,
        prisoners were "slaves of the state." A prisoner was beaten for minor
        rule infractions, worked mercilessly, starved, forced to live in filth,
        and made to suffer cruelties and hardships. Little or no help could be
        expected from the bench. Wardens were the sovereigns of the cell blocks,
        free to do pretty much as they wished with the incarcerated citizens in
        their charge. For prisoners, the Constitution was a locked door, and the
        protections of the Bill of Rights were hidden from sight. (John J. Dilulio,
        Jr., "Introduction: Enhancing Judicial Capacity," in John J. Dilulio,
        Jr., ed.,   Courts, Corrections, and the Constitution:
        The Impact of Judicial Intervention on Prisons and Jails   [New York:
        Oxford University Press, 1990] at 3)     An early Canadian example of the judicial hands-off doctrine can be
        seen in the case of   R.   v.   Huckle  
          (1914) 23 C.C.C. 73   where a prisoner filed a   habeas
        corpus   application in the Ontario High Court claiming that his
        time in custody was lengthened as a result of his loss of remission for
        violating institutional rules. His argument was that since he had not
        been furnished with the Penitentiary Regulations, he could not be bound
        by rules the existence of which he was not aware. The court rejected his
        claim as being based upon a "fundamental misconception"     It is argued that the reward of remission or the forfeiture
        of remission must be on some proceeding in the nature of a trial so that
        the convict may be heard. This is clearly not what is contemplated by
        the   Act.   Someone must determine whether
        the conduct of the convict is exemplary. Prima facie the warden and officers
        of the prison must discharge this duty. Their conduct will be subject
        to review by the Minister; but the statute surely does not contemplate
        a controversy in the courts over a question of prison discipline." (at
        74-75)     In   Prisoners of Isolation,   I suggested
        that the effect of this hands-off approach was "to immunize the prison
        from public scrutiny through the judicial process and to place prison
        officials in a position of virtual invulnerability and absolute power
        over the persons committed to their institutions" (at 82). It is a telling
        commentary on the state of prisoners' rights in Canada that in my first
        study on prison discipline, conducted in 1972 at Matsqui Institution,
        I could cite only a single case in which a Canadian court had ruled that
        prison disciplinary proceedings, under certain restrictive conditions,
        could be subject to judicial review.     By the early 1970s, the insulation of prison justice from public and
        legal scrutiny was increasingly showing serious fault lines. These lines
        made their appearance in a series of escalating episodes of individual
        and collective violence, the product of both deteriorating prison conditions
        and a rising expectation by prisoners, as human rights became increasingly
        important outside the prison, that they could no longer be treated as
        persons without rights. In 1971, Kingston Penitentiary experienced one
        of the bloodiest riots in its history. Five staff were taken hostage,
        and a small group of prisoners, mostly sex offenders, were placed in a
        circle in the prison dome and brutally tortured; two of the prisoners
        died, and part of the institution was destroyed. Mr. Justice Swackhamer,
        in his anatomy of the riot, identified the absence of meaningful rehabilitation,
        the lack of any effective prisoner grievance system, and the entrenched
        hostility between staff and prisoners. The depth of that hostility was
        reflected in the aftermath of the Kingston Riot. Because of the extent
        of the destruction at Kingston, the newly constructed Millhaven Institution
        opened prematurely in May 1971, and over four days (instead of the planned
        six months) a large number of prisoners were transferred to Millhaven.
        The reception they received there was equally unplanned. As described
        by Mr. Justice Swackhamer:     We find that on [Wednesday] 10 to 12 custodial officers
        had been stationed in the southerly portion of P corridor, each armed
        with a riot stick . . . The officers positioned in P corridor were directed
        to stand some five feet east of the westerly corridor wall and approximately
        eight feet apart. We can only conclude that the objective and the result
        of such positioning of staff was to ensure that no inmate could pass through
        the corridor out of range of a riot stick. We find that on Wednesday,
        when the inmates left the buses and proceeded down P corridor, either
        singly or in pairs, substantial numbers of them were assaulted by officers
        standing either on the platform or in the corridor. In short, we find
        the inmates in the course of admission to the penitentiary were in this
        way required to run "the gauntlet." (  Report of the
        Commission of Inquiry into Certain Disturbances at Kingston Penitentiary
        during April 1971   [Ottawa: Information Canada, 1973] [Chairman:
        J. W. Swackhamer] at 34)   Page 1 of 2
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