Probation and Workplace Harm

There has been an increased focus on SFO's recently, something that was highlighted as a danger for staff right from the beginning of TR and rather neatly summed up by this that came in over night:- 

Re: SFOs. Toward the end of my career in Probation I was disappointed with the ever decreasing supervision that I received. Managers were less accessible, supervision ever increasingly focussed on targets, targets that were invariably met (the new cultural imperative, that many of us thought missed the point), and the attention to people (my cases and myself) less so. To be fair to my managers they were less in number and in consequence managing more people and tasked with ever increasing responsibilities. In addition the reduction in dedicated admin support for frontline officers additionally increased their workload and responsibilities. Take that along with IT failings and demands on officers to increasingly feed their IT then inevitable stresses and further failings were becoming apparent. Of course we were equally aware of the odd officer who was not up to it and or swinging the leg but this was the exception. Then the staff exodus started, people frazzled and off sick, and others simply calling it a day and exiting leaving a vicious cycle to embed itself. In conclusion I wonder about where the disciplinary onus for SFOs lie? I imagine this to be a shared experience across the Probation divide, CRC or NPS.

Mention has also been made of the latest edition of the Probation Journal that brings academic rigour to cataloguing the disaster that TR has been and I want to particularly highlight the following alarming article with an extract that serves to confirm much from my personal experience. Please try and read the whole piece; indeed the whole of this edition which I commend especially to people considering a career in probation - it is now a career that can be seriously harmful for your health. 

Transforming Rehabilitation: The impact of austerity and privatisation on day-to-day cultures and working practices in ‘probation’

Abstract 

Viewed as a culmination of broader neoliberal governance within the UK, this paper examines the impact of the government’s Transforming Rehabilitation (TR) agenda on day-to-day working cultures at the frontline of probation work. TR has brought with it extensive structural and cultural changes to probation work in England and Wales. Once a single public-sector service with a social welfare ethos of ‘advise, assist and befriend’, probation has been dismantled, partially privatised and culturally transformed into a collection of fragmented, target-driven organisations, divided according to risk and with an official rhetoric emphasising public protection. The implications of TR are now starting to surface. While much of this attention has focused on the impact of TR on both the supervision of offenders and in terms of public protection, less research has been conducted on how these organisational changes have impacted upon staff. Drawing upon findings from qualitative research, this article suggests that deepening cuts, precarious working environments, and increasingly unmanageable caseloads inflict upon staff what we consider to be a pervasive form of systemic workplace harm, resulting in mental health issues, stress, and professional dissatisfaction.

Introduction

Despite widespread opposition, the Transforming Rehabilitation (TR) agenda, which was introduced by the government in 2012, was operationalised at great speed, severing probation from its public-service and humanitarian foundations (Deering and Feilzer, 2015). In the place of existing probation trusts emerged a ‘new’ and much smaller National Probation Service (NPS) and, following a complex bidding process, 21 new Community Rehabilitation Companies (CRCs) took over responsibility for managing medium- and low-risk offenders. In 2014, following a review of all staff caseloads conducted on a randomly chosen date in 2013, all probation staff were reallocated either to the NPS or to CRC (Robinson et al., 2016), and what followed was a swift array of changes typical of broader patterns in the field of work and employment within the context of neoliberalism. Welldocumented downsizing through redundancies, staff cuts and role changes has injected a sense of job insecurity amongst many probation workers – particularly those working within CRCs. Such feelings have been deepened by the CRCs’ overestimation of revenues and a shift toward more automated services, such as the introduction of offender management ‘kiosks’ and over-the-phone supervision (National Audit Office, 2017). The result has been at times unmanageable caseloads, giving rise to extreme stress and anxiety among probation staff and a general experience of deskilling and deprofessionalisation which has thrown many probation workers’ professional identities into a state of existential crisis. 

Although the probation service has undergone numerous structural and cultural changes since its creation (Mawby and Worrall, 2013), the extent of these changes in the last few years cannot be over-stated. Described as ‘the most radical change it [probation] has ever seen’ (Newburn, 2013), TR has intensified the existing significant challenges that decades of neoliberal policies have posed to the ‘probation ideal’ (Deering and Feilzer, 2015) and its established working practices (Robinson et al., 2016: 165). Therefore, while this article builds upon existing critiques of contemporary probation, it focuses more specifically on a consideration of the harmful impact that these structural changes have upon workers. Indeed, it is our belief that TR and the changes this has brought about offer a unique opportunity to conceptually expand and advance research in the broad field of workplace violence. 

Numerous studies have emerged detailing the systematic failings of TR, failings which have been confirmed in the government’s early termination of the CRC contracts (MoJ, 2018). However, government ministers have failed to concede that TR’s failings are a result of its neoliberal underpinnings and the problems inherent within the privatisation of public services. On the contrary, in discussing the termination of TR, Justice Secretary David Gauke defended the continued role of the private sector in the delivery of such public services, suggesting that ‘clear lessons needed to be learned in improving the system’, but that he ‘doesn’t favour excluding the private sector from this at all’ (Grierson, 2018). 

Given the government’s clear ideological attachment to policies of privatisation, it is therefore important to stress from the outset that the purpose of this paper is not limited to a focus on analysing or critiquing specifically the effectiveness of the government’s TR agenda. In view of the early termination of CRC contracts and the clear intention of the government to continue private sector involvement within probation, we deem it necessary to situate TR as a symptom of a deeper neoliberal agenda and examine the impact that these changes have had on the organisational cultures and day-to-day working practices within probation more broadly. In other words, we focus on TR, austerity and privatisation as the mechanism through which systemic work-based harms emerge from their underpinnings in neoliberal ideology. By drawing upon qualitative interviews with former probation staff, in this article we explore some of the challenges faced by probation staff in the wake of neoliberal capitalism. We demonstrate how neoliberal ideology has modified professional roles and responsibilities, how it has affected day-to-day working practices, and how it has had a significant impact on the occupational identities of those working in the probation sector today. Ultimately, in this paper we argue that, when viewed as part of the broader neoliberal agenda, TR and the changes that have occurred within probation constitute a more pervasive and equally damaging form of systemic work-based harm.

Workload pressures amongst probation staff 

In their sociological polemic Dead Man Working, Cederstrom and Fleming (2012) suggest that much of modern work, rather than characterised by physical harms, is more explicitly concerned with that of the dying spirit of the worker; a death, they suggest which ‘can be equally slow and painful’. Work today has colonised almost all areas of social life, occupying our thoughts even in our sleep (Crary, 2013). Much of contemporary work, including probation, draws upon forms of ‘emotional labour’ (Hochschild, 1983) such as affability, communication skills and sociability. We can see this in the command to ‘do something you love’, to incorporate work as part of our personal identities and to inject authenticity, meaning and life-affirming moments into our work; a trend quite clearly reflected in our participants’ desire to do ‘meaningful work’ within a profession they felt was ‘more than just a job’. 

Supporting such an assertion, Scott (2017) demonstrates through his research how, whether in the form of insecure employment, excessive hours generated by unmanageable workloads, or a sense of occupational devotion, a common reality for the modern-day worker is the blurring between work life and home life. This blurred reality was one also shared by many of the participants in this study. The need to work above and beyond contracted hours was a recurring theme during interviews. Having worked in probation since the mid-1970s, one of our participants, Nigel, was quick to point out that this was not a new feature of probation work. Originally, Nigel argued, this was because of dedication to the job; wanting to work long hours due to a sense of love and devotion to the work which was closely tied up with his biography. However, as time has moved on and the probation service has undergone the forms of depersonalisation and deprofessionalisation characteristic of neoliberal trends in criminal justice, he explained that the reasoning and motivation behind this ‘overtime’ shifted: 

I can remember working long hours, but it was different. It was longer hours because I was putting in the time working with people [ ... ] [doing] things which I felt was important. [ ... ] Now people are coming in at the weekend to do all their OASys and all their assessments and paperwork to defend themselves and the agency. 

This sense of occupational devotion and a divergence of harmony between personal and organisational values was a common theme expressed by all of our participants. Moreover, it was the justification consistently given for working beyond contracted hours (with or without pay). Both Susan and Roger both talked about feeling a sense of duty towards their job – particularly their clients – and both spoke about how they would routinely go above and beyond their normal expected hours of work. While some objected to this expectation of staying late, others felt that it was an ‘investment of their time’. As Susan reasoned: 

[It] was okay [that I worked more hours than I should] because that was my choice. [ ... ] That used to make me feel completely in control, up to date and stress free. 

This sense of occupational devotion and an alignment between the self and one’s job can certainly be viewed as a positive, even an integral aspect of being an effective probation worker in the sense of the service’s traditional ethos of ‘advise, assist, and befriend’. However, given such devotion, TR and the wider changes to probation appear to cut deeper into the sense of disenchantment, alienation, and ontological insecurity experienced by those we interviewed. The changes to probation caused by decades of neoliberal policies that culminated in TR were experienced by all of our participants as a profound loss. What was lost was not just an appropriate way of working, but the end of an entire relationship between one’s profession and identity: 

I joined [probation] to get involved and to help people. But the more and more the targets were piled on the less and less that became [possible]. (David) I was applying for jobs and trying to get out of probation and I couldn’t. I was getting frustrated. But [ ... ] I thought this is no longer the job for me! Its values, its ethics do not meet mine, I cannot work for an organisation that would treat another human being like this. So that’s when I decided to leave. It took me a considerable while longer to effect that leave. (Susan) 

What such quotes appear to demonstrate is a sudden realisation amongst many – particularly those working within the CRCs – of the ‘pointlessness’ (Cederstro¨m and Fleming, 2012) of their work that stemmed from the deprofessionalisation and dehumanisation of probation work under the aim of maximising profit. The pain associated with this ‘pointlessness’ was intensified by the way in which participants incorporated their occupation into their personal identity. This trauma was most potently experienced by Mary, who admitted to being suicidal at one point in her career:

I wouldn’t be there [at work], I’d be off sick with everything that’s gone on. I can’t ... I don’t want to work, it doesn’t match my values anymore, I wouldn’t be able to manage the workloads anymore and the expectations. I’m very much a one-to-one therapeutic type of worker and that’s gone, you can’t do that anymore, so it didn’t ... you know, my values and the values of the organisation have just gone completely [gestures for separation]. I just think I worked against the grain and I just kept doing what I always did. But it was becoming more and more obvious that I wouldn’t be able to continue, and I think a lot of people were the same, they kept doing what they always did and what they felt matched [their personal values and ethics]. 

It is important to acknowledge that irrespective of the speed at which TR was introduced, the impact that these changes had upon workers and their workloads took longer to take effect. This is significant for the emotional and physical welfare of many of those working in the probation sector today. Indeed, just like the frog in the metaphor of the ‘boiling frog syndrome’, the increased pressure of probation work appears to have gradually taken their toll on the wellbeing of frontline staff. 

Yet, as the values and ethics of probation were perceived to have changed, the ‘heat’ of heightened caseloads and an increased burden to meet targets also became more difficult to endure in the absence of a sense of meaningful rationale. Interestingly, in many cases this would not prompt refusal to work beyond contracted hours. To the contrary, work would simply seep into all pockets of life, often spiralling as staff would sign-off with stress or illness, thereby increasing an already unmanageable workload. As David explained: 

It was quite ‘funny’ because me and one of my colleagues were like ‘oh it can’t get any worse than this’ and gradually it did. [ ... ] Someone would go off sick with whatever, for whatever reason and we’d have to take over all their caseloads. Then someone else would go off sick and we’d have to look after their caseloads. And, you know, we kept on saying ‘oh it will get better, it will get better’ and it just progressively got worse and worse [ ... ] to the point where I had 80 plus cases. [ ... ] I was constantly coming home everyday just moody and depressed, you know, just really down [ ... ] She [my partner] could see that [ ... ] and her response was ‘well you need to get out of there, you need to get out of there!’ and I knew that, and I got that, but until you’re ready to do that, it won’t happen. [ ... ] [So] for us both, yeah, it was... it was difficult. 

Indeed, David spoke about how he had previously been a ‘happy and bubbly character’, but that this had slowly been stripped away to the point where he experienced a loss of self and had to seek counselling for stress and anxiety, something he saw mirrored in other colleagues’ experiences. However, what is most interesting about David’s narrative in this case is that, at the time, he failed to view his stress and increasing anxieties as a product of the pressures placed upon him through work. Instead, he internalised much of this and blamed himself for his inability to cope (see also Eadie and Sein, 2006). For Cederstrom and Fleming this is significant. Indeed, while most of us still have a ‘boss’ working above us, they argue that we have also internalised the ‘boss function’ within ourselves, becoming our own managers. In this way ‘self-exploitation has become a defining motif of working today’. 

Unlike physical illness, emotional problems often elicit less sympathy within the workplace (Cederstrom and Fleming, 2012). Rather than viewed as the product of the nature of work and workplace cultures, blame is often placed upon the individual worker insofar as it is not the targets that have caused the stress but rather the worker who has failed to manage their time effectively. This was expressed explicitly by Tracey: 

It’s very much a culture of ... it’s all top-down and if you have a problem it’s because you aren’t managing your time, and you aren’t managing your offenders, and you aren’t managing your morale. 

However, being signed off from work under these circumstances offers little respite to the worker. If anything, it can exacerbate the problem and make the situation worse. As highlighted in the work of Fevre et al. (2012), the absent worker worries not only about the work they have waiting for them, but also the impact that their absence will have on their colleagues. Subsequently when they return, the work will not only remain, but is likely to have increased in their absence; and so the cycle begins again. This was a common reason for individuals not reclaiming their overtime. As Harvey explained: 

I can say that I myself have very rarely taken TOIL [time off in lieu] because the other issue that you’re faced with as well is where do you find the time? You know, where do you find the time to take that back? [ ... ] I’m probably owed a lot of hours, I can tell you that quite confidently. 

From the narratives provided by our participants, it appears that despite any initial optimism for innovation under TR, this has been replaced by a pessimistic atmosphere of depression, defeatism and jaded cynicism. The analogy that was consistently referred to during our interviews was that of the Titanic. Any attempts at piecemeal reformism were seen as, to quote one participant, ‘rearranging deckchairs while the ship is going down’ (Nigel): 

We got to the point [ ... ] of feeling that, ‘well whatever we’re going to do, it’s not going to work!’ It’s the moment in Titanic in the film where he takes the plans out and says ‘look, whatever you’re going to do this ship will sink’. (Nigel) 

Ultimately, whether they jumped ship, ‘drowned’ (Hannah) under their increasingly unmanageable caseloads, or clung on for survival, it is evident that many are left grieving for a probation service they knew; a ‘bereavement process’ which, began for many with the announced plans for TR. In the wake of the recent announcements that CRC contracts are to be terminated two years earlier than expected (MoJ, 2018), probation is once again to be sent into turmoil – a move which is likely only to prolong the issues and harms raised by the workers interviewed for this article.

Conclusion 

In this article we have built upon a growing body of literature that explores how TR, when situated within a broader neoliberal agenda, has impacted upon frontline staff within the probation sector. In drawing upon the lived experiences of eight former probation workers we have attempted to demonstrate how such changes constitute a pervasive form of work-based harm. From the experiences of our participants we can see how TR and its neoliberal ideological base have not only destroyed morale but also how it has engendered more insidious forms of harm for probation staff, such as stress, overwork, depression, domestic conflict, feelings of pointlessness and even suicidal thoughts. Such existential insecurity is indicative of labour under neoliberal capitalism today. 

It is important to recognise that the problems experienced by the probation staff in this article were not just a case of ruthlessly demanding managers bullying and creating extraordinary working conditions to have their demands met. To the contrary, under the contemporary context of late-capitalism, these problems are quite ordinary (though nonetheless harmful). Qualitative changes to the nature of work under neoliberal capitalism have demanded reduced public spending, maximised value extracted from workers and, ultimately, enhanced profits. Indeed, while such harms and conditions are an established feature of work within the private and commercial sectors, in the context of austerity and privatisation they are no longer simply the preserve of the corporate sector. Indeed, while this research has focused on examining the impact decades of neoliberal policies has had on day-to-day culture and working practices of probation staff, we believe our findings are likely to be transferable to a wide range of criminal and public sector institutions.

Samantha Walker, Jill Annison, and Sharon Beckett

University of Plymouth