Gendering the ‘carceral–assistential net’

Literature examining how UK welfare and penal reforms impact upon women at the intersection of both systems is relatively sparse.Footnote ⁴ Women in receipt of out-of-work benefits, find themselves subject to high levels of surveillance, moral scrutiny and punishment with highly gendered pathways into the criminal justice system (Bumiller, Reference Bumiller, Carlton and Segrave2013). Corcoran and Fox (Reference Corcoran and Fox2012: 339–41; 2013) point to a blurring of welfare and penal roles particularly in gender-specific interventions of the ‘Diversion Programme’Footnote ⁵ and more broadly in the ‘voluntary sector turn in criminal justice’ working partnerships. The Coalition and current Conservative governments' austerity policies have intensified disciplinary welfare linked to behavioural and attitudinal conditions, expanding their reach to groups formerly granted a level of protection in the shift towards ‘ubiquitous conditionality’ (Dwyer and Wright, Reference Dwyer and Wright2014: 33). Research suggests that the impact of welfare reform falls disproportionately onto women who rely more on social assistance and who use public services more intensively (Hills, Reference Hills2014). The concomitant expansion and intensification seen within penal policy criminalises certain families, particularly marginalised, lone female parent households (Ball et al., Reference Ball, Batty and Flint2016).

Jensen (Reference Jensen2013: 62) emphasises how the continued undermining of social protections ‘coalesces more substantively and intensively around the institution of the family and parenting than any other site’. Linked to this has been the successful conflation in public discourse of ‘anti-social behaviour’ (ASB) and parental deficit, particularly ‘dadlessness’ (Ashe, Reference Ashe2014: 664). While family intervention may be welcomed in some cases (see Flint, Reference Flint2012), it is frequently associated with coercion and control (see Gillies, Reference Gillies2012; Crossley, Reference Crossley2016). There is often an adversarial dynamic in parent–state relationships mediated via child protection agencies: parents are expected to ‘shape up or the child will be shipped out’. A more supportive and compassionate approach would be appropriate, particularly for those living with an accumulation of daily hardships (Featherstone et al., Reference Featherstone, Morris and White2014: 9). Child removal is ‘doxic’ (uncontentious), especially when parents are state outcasts; those multiply deprived and/or who have been through the criminal justice system.

The number of looked after children increased sharply in 2010 and has continued to rise steadily; recurrent proceedings – birth mothers caught in a cycle of repeat pregnancies and removals into care – make up almost a third of care applications (Broadhurst et al., Reference Broadhurst, Shaw, Kershaw, Harwin, Alrouh, Mason and Pilling2015). There are complex reasons behind these developments: long-term variations in social work and legal practice, a number of high profile child deaths and a focus on risk management have influenced the shift towards early intervention (Rogowski, Reference Rogowski2013). It is important to place child rescue in a broader historical context of states' managing surplus populations in notably unequal societies, as evidenced by racial assimilation policies and the removal of children from unmarried mothers (Featherstone et al., Reference Featherstone, Morris and White2014). Earlier intervention through benefits or cash payments linked to contraception/sterilisation is similarly concerning.

Research, largely from North America, emphasises the link between welfare reform and child protective services involvement (Derr and Taylor, Reference Derr and Taylor2004). Swift and Parada (Reference Swift and Parada2004) consider child welfare policy as a mechanism for ‘policing the poor’. Despite this, little attention has been paid to the experiences of a particular group of ‘failed’ citizens; mothers who have lost the right to care for their children.

Care, institutional neglect and intensive interventions

Participants' accounts depict highly traumatic experiences over the life course.Footnote ⁶ The majority had experienced neglect or abuse during childhood, some had been through the care system, suggesting a ‘postcode lottery’ of social services intervention (Cafcass, 2014). Many had subsequently experienced abusive relationships as adults; over a third had had children removed from their care; instances of domestic violence, sexual victimisation and exploitation were also prevalent:

A high number of participants (sixteen) had at least one child; of this group seven had experienced the removal of a child or children from their care, two participants had experienced the removal of five children from their care, and two participants were going through ‘care proceedings’ during the research process.

In interviews, it became clear that the loss of children had a profound effect on participants:

Personal experiences of care as children and then the loss of their own children to the care system highlights a cyclical aspect of involvement of social services and the courts. Like those with a criminal record, mothers who have been in care themselves are likely to be ‘known’ to statutory services and under such scrutiny are more likely to go through the process of having children removed (Broadhurst et al., Reference Broadhurst, Shaw, Kershaw, Harwin, Alrouh, Mason and Pilling2015). Sally and Carly both have five children, none of whom has remained in their care. Social service professionals are perceived as powerful actors whose influence outweighs that of the legal system. Following each removal decision, the plethora of interventions from social and legal agencies halted. They did not receive support to help them become better parents, and be reunited with their children or to prevent the removal of future children: a ‘children (but not women) first approach lingers’ (Lister, Reference Lister2006). These experiences are particular to women; on a biological level they directly experience the corporeality of pregnancy and childbirth, furthermore socially constructed ideas on parental identities place different and higher expectations on mothers. The loss of their parenting identity and source of value in society is reflected in their experiences of abandonment.

Housing some of the most traumatised children, and perennially underinvested in by the state, the ability of children's homes to provide ‘effective social investment’ and ‘human capital’ is limited (Churchill, Reference Churchill2011). Sands (Reference Sands2016: 1) suggests that children in care can be fast-tracked towards criminalisation through earlier involvement of criminal justice agencies; ‘staff in children's homes . . . too frequently [call] . . . the police, often over minor incidents’. Clearly, not everyone from a low socio-economic position or who has been in care ends up in the criminal justice system or as a ‘failed’ parent (Welshman, Reference Welshman2008). However, an examination of participants' life courses highlights the punitive treatment of vulnerable young women, and the subsequent problems they encounter as adults and parents. Participants felt that they had been let down by a state which did not protect them, or whose intervention is based on a conflation of ‘vulnerability’ with ‘transgression’ (Brown, Reference Brown2014: 377).

Women engage with services in times of crisis, such as being in conflict with the law or during care proceedings. They receive individualised action plans often comprising services such as counselling or courses to address specific ‘vulnerabilities’ ranging from budgeting skills to preventing domestic violence victimisation. Periods of intensive, multi-agency interventions are perversely interwoven with institutional neglect, ultimately rendering participants socially static. Without addressing underlying structural barriers, those on the margins must better their situations in spite of their disadvantages. The governance of those on the social margins appears highly reactive, a costly and inefficient approach by the state. Interventions on the periphery of the criminal justice system, though perceived as palliative by participants, were ineffective in facilitating the accrual of socio-economic capital. A prominent feature of experiences is the individualisation of responsibility, both as the cause of the negative experiences in their lives (as ‘bad’ parent or partner) and the cure as the individual is expected to engage and turn their life around.

The ‘assistential arm’ during times of austerity

Participants valued engagement with gatekeepers, and on the whole perceived interactions with statutory welfare agencies positively:

Superficially, Caitlin's work coach appears to act protectively by letting her miss an appointment. However, also perceptible is coercion evident in her seeking permission and the prioritisation of work coach-guided activities; Caitlin subsequently cancelled a research interview in order to attend a mandatory work-focused interview (WFI). Caitlin accepts that she must perform the behaviours expected of her, signifying an internalisation and normalisation of the disciplinary control exerted by the welfare system.

Whitney and Sally also highlight positive experiences; both are long-term unemployed and have volunteered at the gatekeeper organisation for many years:

These accounts draw attention to positive experiences within the assistential arm of the state. They did not explicitly indicate any dissatisfaction in their interactions with Jobcentre Plus and Work Programme staff or the requirements placed on them. This suggests being placed in the ESA groups provided a modicum of protection from tougher conditionality and a sanctions regime. Still, participants performed the requisite attitudes and behaviours, which might be interpreted as a form of ‘gaming the system’ to ensure benefits are maintained (Batty et al., Reference Batty, Fletcher, Flint and McNeill2016: 171). Nonetheless, their experiences reflect a ‘softness’ within the practices of frontline welfare professionals – relationships show understanding and common interests. Grant (Reference Grant2013: 166) found that welfare practitioners ‘used their autonomy to make the policy less punitive’; one way of making sense of participant experiences. Carter and Whitworth (Reference Carter and Whitworth2015) show that ‘creaming’ and ‘parking’ – where practitioners focus their efforts on those most likely to secure employment – remain lingering features of welfare-to-work practice. It seems plausible that participants – being far from the labour market – may have been ‘parked’.

There was, however, a strong counter-narrative where participants recounted negative experiences, related to the WCA:

Vivien's experience indicates that, although she was initially treated as undeserving, she feels that the state should not be paying for her, despite her disability. During ethnographic fieldwork, I participated in a group session in which participants indicated anxieties around the possibility of failing the WCA and not being able to access ESA.

Despite these instances, participants' experiences are suggestive of a residual assistential welfare arm – though this interpretation should be tempered with a more subtle analysis of participants' compliance with mandated behaviours and attitudes. Participants highlighted the importance of frontline staff in how they perceive the welfare system, with positive accounts linked to interactions with specific individuals acting in discretionary ways to shield them from conditionality and the sanctions regime. The use of discretion by ‘street-level bureaucrats’ persists in the delivery of employability programmes (Fletcher, Reference Fletcher2011: 446). An alternative perspective is that participants deemed the welfare regime less intrusive or punitive than other agencies within the carceral–assistential net, such as social services or the police.

There is a growing body of research that presents nuanced perspectives on the direction of social policy under austerity (Johnsen, and Fitzpatrick, Reference Johnsen and Fitzpatrick2010; Flint, Reference Flint2012). This article contributes to these works through the experiences of women at the penal–welfare nexus who report a paradoxical blend of sanction and support. Participants were often engaged in an ‘archipelago of interventions’ with multiple providers of ‘marginal social welfare’ services (Jamieson, Reference Jamieson2012). Some participants had been mandated to attend a particular service by a magistrate; others had been signposted by the police or social services. Some had progressed to volunteering and now saw themselves primarily as volunteers, attending daily to ‘keep out of trouble’; many enjoyed going to socialise and had gained a sense of belonging. Though service providers were part of, or closely associated with, the criminal justice system, participants did not perceive them as carceral. At a time when social assistance and public services are being cut, these agencies provided essential support and meaningful activity for severely marginalised women.

While women received services/interventions and out-of-work benefits, if the interventions comprising the ‘carceral–assistential net’ are to be viewed as remedial, there should be a perceptible ‘accumulation of social capital’ in ways that support their ‘(sub)proletarian life strategies’ (Wacquant, Reference Wacquant2008: 224). Support often focused on empowering women to take control of their lives to ‘make change happen’,Footnote ⁷ masking the structural causes of their marginality. The result of this residualised approach is that they remain trapped on the margins despite engaging with multiple services. Interventions have minimal impact, constituting a new form of ‘warehousing’ taking place in the community rather than the prison (Wacquant, Reference Wacquant2010).

These contrasting tones of the penal–welfare experience both support and contradict Wacquant's (Reference Wacquant2009: 99) notion that ‘the state regulates the troublesome behaviours of these women (and their children) through workfare’. The governance of the poor and disorderly is much messier than macro-level conceptions allow. They are undergoing something more complex than penal enlargement and welfare retrenchment. A paradoxical ‘archipelago’ of interventions jointly ‘assistential’ and ‘carceral’, is observable. From this perspective, we are able to gain a more nuanced grasp of the many faces of the neo-liberal state, which may be experienced as supportive, repressive, punitive and protective at the same time.