Social Isolation is a Matter of Life or Death

 Incarceration is one of many institutions that lead to social isolation, and in the case of incarceration, that is the aim. Social isolation is not necessarily the same thing as physical solitude. Rather, it is, as author Daniel Goleman notes, "the sense that you have nobody with whom you can share your private feelings or have close contact" (Emotional Intelligence, p. 178).

Many prisoners experience social isolation because of the physical isolation of prison and the pervasive lack of trust between prisoners. It's an irony of prison that while surrounded by hundreds of other prisoners, some prisoners can feel profoundly alone. 

A study conducted of 37,000 people found that social isolation doubles the chance of sickness or death (Goleman, p. 178). This study also found that men are affected more than women by social isolation. In fact, men are two to three times more likely to die from the effects of isolation than woman are. 

Rumor has it that prison preserves people, but that rumor is only partly true. While many people leave prison looking young for their age (some due to careful exercise routines), the unseen health dangers of isolation leave many incarcerated men and women vulnerable to early disease or death. That's a sobering fact, especially since prison healthcare and food are often so atrocious.

Significant relationships and close ties matter for human health. Close ties have actually been clinically proven to offer healing power for people. But it's not the close ties themselves that offer that healing power. It is the benefits that come with close ties. 

When people experience fear, pain, and anger, they need to create a narrative that provides an explanation and outlet for those feelings. Close ties offer the opportunity for someone else to listen empathetically and without judgment. But close ties require trusting relationships, and trusting relationships are difficult to find in prison. 

These past two weeks as I've processed the loss of my father without the benefit of processing it with family, I've been very fortunate to have a web of close ties, significant friendships, in prison who have kept me from feeling alone in my grief. It's a remarkable blessing in a place as destructive as prison. I'm truly grateful. 

Nobody should be alone in their fear, pain, anger, hurt, and grief. Despite my own experience, I know most prisoners are profoundly alone in these painful experiences, and that needs to change. Victims of crime also often feel alone in their pain, so I'm grateful for compassionate people who provide victim services. We need more of that. 

It is difficult to address systemically caused social isolation (such as caused by prisons), but we can individually make a difference right where we are. Taking a compassionate stance towards victims might be easier than having that same compassion for offenders. Nevertheless, knowing what to say to victims or how to help, and understanding how to make a difference in the life of offenders starts with compassion. Providing emotional support takes many forms, but each requires action. 

I have been fortunate to have the love and support of people around me during my recent loss, but incarceration (and being a victim of crime) is a loss itself. Whether it is towards a prisoner, a victim, or someone in your own backyard, compassionate support that says "you are not alone" can go a long way to saving or extending someone's life.