Sound, Order and Survival in Prison… and Beyond
Written by Kate Herrity
Kate Herrity’s book “Sound, Order and Survival in Prison: The rhythms and routines of HMP Midtown” tells the story of a year spent at a local men’s prison interrogating the soundscape and its meaning for the prison social world. Sound, she argues, tells us different things about how time is experienced in prison, how power operates through our interaction with the material environment and the symbolic meaning we ascribe to it, and how order – so often assumed dependent on the imposition of and entanglement with power – is better understood as a matter of co-production. After launching her book on the 1st of February 2024, Kate reflects on the space provided by the E-Lab and the value of collaboration.
I stood in the swirling soundscape at HMP Wandsworth, simultaneously overwhelmed and utterly consumed by it. The woman kindly volunteering time to talk to us about her role in residence, sank into this sweeping cacophony as I tried to make sense of what this all signified, and what it might mean for social life. I returned to this question throughout my studies, pursuing it and persuading others it might have importance. It took me another age to write the thesis into Sound, Order and Survival.
Perspective has shifted as I have moved out of hearing range, but the memory of my time there and the people who so generously taught me about the prison social world remains so vivid. How to do them justice?
As a book of a thesis, I wanted to convey the complexity of my research but render the meaning more accessible in the book in the hopes that similarities between social behaviour in different spaces would become more apparent and relatable. As Horace Miner so provocatively phrases it; to make the strange familiar, and the familiar strange.
What relevance might this work have beyond the high, closed walls of the prison?
Questioning the soundscape (the combination of sounds in a particular place) prompted reflection on how people pass time inside. Boyd explained: “‘…if I’m listening to CDs, like there’s certain songs, when I was with my partner and the kids all doing funny things, and that song comes on again, it reminds you of good times”. Of course, we all have some understanding of how sound can elicit memory and emotion. It can also work as a conduit for power. It can be imposed beyond the relational, through interactions with the material environment; “whenever I hear keys, I’m back inside” (John). This prompts questions about other soundscapes; what might it mean in an office environment for someone suffering stress? The electrical thrum of technical equipment eliciting a sense of hopeless enslavement to the machine.
In prison, there rhythms, to a day going well, just as there was a discordance to one that had been disturbed by disruptions to the routine. Workplaces, social spaces, have their own set of rhythms that indicate everyday activity or, when disrupted, departures from the predictable. There is a heaviness to work environments where people are unhappy. Organisations require development to address issues of wellbeing and quality of working life. I term a disharmonious prison environment “arrhythmic”. As I argue elsewhere, it is possible to attune to soundscapes and use this as a barometer for establishing emotional climate. Is this a calm and positive space to work in? If not, understanding sound provides a benign entry point to change this.
Being an academic is about contributing to a bigger conversation. The broader the diversity of voices, the greater the potential for innovative ways of thinking. So I was delighted when the E-Lab offered to host my book launch - I know of no group more expert at drawing people from disparate fields and professions together in a collegiate spirit of curiosity. I already know what I think, but the joy of bringing people together in discussion is to forge fresh ways in thinking, different applications for the thoughts these conversations produce. While “entrepreneurialism” is associated primarily with business, its meaning is as heavily rooted in endeavour, particularly that which embraces individual initiative. How much more powerful when individuals come together?
Looking around the room that evening, it was impossible to overlook the sheer range of people who had come to hear about a book on sound in prison. Amongst our own students were those studying acoustics in other colleges. One of my tutees, a number of alumni, members of the Prison Research Centre and the Institute of Criminology attended, as did policy makers and civil servants. Some of our precious College Research Associates were there and I was surprised by one of my oldest and dearest friends turning up. A number of our wonderful administrative support staff colleagues came, the senior fellowship put in a solid showing as did our marvellous E-Lab team. This warm collegiality was encapsulated in the form of the event; an informal chat between myself and Anna Raverat who very kindly accepted my invitation to join me in discussion for the launch. Anna read English at King’s from 1988-1991 and has worked in organisation development for over 25 years. We met by chance at an alumni dinner, introduced by her fellow alumni Jenny and Matt whom I had been seated with that night and who made the journey to join us for the evening. And so, the book, deeply precious to me and so long in the making, spawned by my pursuit of an answer to a question that began nagging at me well over a decade ago, was launched amidst a rich community of people and ideas. Amongst friendships old and new and associations fresh and long-established. I could not have wished for a more fitting event. Even though, as Mr Jim Trevithick was keen to inform me, we did not leave enough time for questions!