Why I Like Working in Forensics
Some reflections on working in the field of psychology that I do.
As a psychologist that has worked in both prisons and secure psychiatric hospitals with individuals who have committed a range of offences, I have often been asked (predominantly by people not in that line of work) why I do what I do. The reasons for people asking range from: “I could never work with people who have committed a crime” to “Isn’t it scary?” (or some variation of “Aren’t you worried you’ll get hurt/stalked”?) to “Rehabilitation is too good for them; lock ’em up I say and never let them out”.
To which I will often respond with things like: “That’s OK, we all have our roles and jobs that we’re comfortable with. For example, I could never be an accountant; I’m just not that good with numbers. And besides, I would rather lick tree bark.” (I don’t say the bit about licking tree bark out loud, but I often think it. Also, no disrespect to accountants). Or: “No, it’s a pretty safe environment to work in. And because we know it’s risky, and that the people we work with can pose a risk, there are plenty of procedures in place to make sure that staff and clients are kept safe, especially in the areas where I work.”
But I guess my favourite question or statement to respond to is the one relating to keeping prisoners locked up for good.
When I started out in my pursuit of becoming a Forensic Psychologist, I was very much shaped by the ideas of a) finding out what makes those who commit criminal acts “tick”, and b) the dispensing some form of justice. Back then my idea of what a Forensic Psychologist did was influenced by the pop culture version of forensic psychology and its links to profiling. Basically (and I have said this before) I was massively influenced by the character of Alex Cross, the hero Forensic Psychologist police detective of the James Patterson series (before James Patterson became wank). In this way, I was very much of the mindset of “track ’em down” and “lock ’em up” too.
Then, after getting my masters in forensic psychology I got my first job in a forensic setting: a medium secure men’s psychiatric hospital. It was from this perspective – working with individuals once they had committed their crimes, been charged, and been to court and either convicted or diverted to a secure hospital – that my views about “justice” started to change.
It’s really hard to put into words, but in working with those men in the secure hospital I got to see the humanity of them. I know this is something that might sit uncomfortably with some readers: the idea that someone who has committed a serious crime can be seen as a human being. More often than not words or labels attributed to those within the forensic population run along the lines of “monster” or they are badged with the offence committed: “rapist”, “murderer”, “paedophile”, etc. And to a degree I can understand why the public hold these views. This isn’t me banging a moral drum or trying to say that how others think of people who have committed significantly terrible acts is wrong. Far from it.
But while working with these men, and while simultaneously being very aware of the things they had done, I was also privy to their suffering. Both present and past.
In the present, these men were usually experiencing varying degrees of distress due to symptoms of mental illnesses, such as depression and psychosis (including schizophrenia and bi-polar). And despite not being in prison they were detained under the Mental Health Act, with some having restrictions placed on them by the Ministry of Justice, which meant that for all intents and purposes they were incarcerated. This was necessary to manage their risk to themselves and to others, but it did mean they were away from their family, partners, and community; under 24 hour observation; with some of them having to be placed in seclusion or long term segregation due to the high level of risk posed. Alongside this, some of these men engaged in self-harm behaviours. All of this would be hard for anyone to manage irrespective of whatever criminal offense they had committed.
If you take all that, then add the numerous traumas these men had experienced in the past, ranging from sexual and physical abuse; neglect; witnessing domestic violence; racial abuse; emotionally absent parents; racism; war and conflict; and seeking refuge to name a few, it makes sense that these individuals had the difficulties they have (e.g., substance use, low self-worth and self-esteem, hopelessness, and a breadth of mental illnesses presentations).
From there I then worked with women, both in secure hospitals and in prison. It was in these institutions where I learned about the impact of men’s violence on women, and how this impact in some respects influenced women’s choices to commit their offenses.
When you work therapeutically day in and day out with individuals it is difficult to not see their humanity and their vulnerability, and to realise that for their whole life they were making life choices the best ways they knew how, with the options and skills available to them Admittedly, choices that were harmful to themselves and others. This is not to excuse their behaviour, but rather to highlight that when you learn about people’s past and the challenges they faced in their lives, it starts to make sense as to why they made the choices they did.
The Good Lives Model (GLM) is something that highlights this well. The GLM is framework for offender rehabilitation which recognises those who have committed offences as human beings. Human being that have needs just like you and me, and who went about their lives trying to achieve these basic needs required to live a good life. These needs are known as “primary goods”, and there are eleven of them. For example, “life” (including healthy living and functioning); “knowledge” (how well informed one feels about things that are important to them); “inner peace” (freedom from emotional turmoil and stress); and “excellence in work” (including mastery experiences) to name a few.
The GLM model posits that offending behaviour is driven by the pursuit of these basic human needs, but that it is done in an anti-social way as these individuals may not have been given the opportunity (which can include things such as emotional regulations skills, problem solving skills, access to education, etc.) to attain them in prosocial ways. Therefore, once it is understood what they were aiming to achieve, the aim is then to help these individuals learn new and different (and more importantly, prosocial ways) of achieving their good life.
This is obviously easier said than done, and if it was as easy as that then my job would not have its challenges. But the reality is this kind of work has many obstacles – the people I work with face a lot of internal and external barriers that make wanting to live – and achieving – a good life pretty fucking hard .
At the same time, this is why I love working in forensics (I know the title is about liking the field - but the truth is I fucking love it). It’s tough. It’s challenging. The clients I work with have such complex needs that it can be overwhelming. And yet I feel like it is such an honour and a privilege to be able to work with people whom, to a large degree, society has deemed unsuitable to be part of our community. I can appreciate this is not the view that everyone has. However, my argument would be that if we continue to see those who have been treated badly all their lives - and how as a consequence have done bad things - as nothing but bad, then they might not have any faith in themselves to want to change. And therefore they may have little to no other option than to carry on in the way they always have. And so, offering compassion and the opportunity for a second chance - to me - feels like such a human thing to do and to offer. And hopefully it will make a difference. For them. For those they’ve hurt. And for the community they are from and society at large.
Thanks for reading. As always, I am open to hearing any thoughts or comments on anything I write. So please leave a comment here, or come say hi on my Instagram page.
All the best,
Nice-ish.