“A man that looks on glass
On it may stay his eye,
Or if he pleaseth, through it pass,
And then the heaven espy.”
George Herbert, The Elixir
Over the last four months or so, I've been representing RAPt, a drug treatment charity, in a project sponsored by the Cabinet Office and led by the Innovation Unit to tackle drug-related crime. Six weeks ago, I was bemused to receive an invitation to attend a co-design workshop which: "will be taking place in a research studio with a one-way mirror. We're inviting you as a ‘viewer’ for this workshop."
When I told my other half, who works in the probation service, and a colleague, whose mother is a forensic psychologist, about this invitation, they were intrigued and said that they would love to have been offered the opportunity. I wasn't so keen, for me the idea of observing others talking seemed a little voyeuristic. The fact that my primary association with one-way mirrors was hundreds of police interviews with serial killers on NYPD Blue, Homicide, and Silent Witness probably didn’t help.
As it turned out, the invitation had been sent to me in error – I was being invited to the workshop, but as one of the participants discussing and developing the model. I would be one of the people observed by senior staff from participating organisations and key stakeholders from the Home Office from behind that same one-way mirror.
I was quite happy with this change of perspective. I didn't find "being the goldfish" troubling and I am generally better at participating than spectating.
The purpose of the design process was to construct a new approach to reducing drug related crime which worked from a number of different angles – providing real opportunities for change for drug using offenders whilst also protecting local communities from the damage those offenders cause.
The workshop itself was highly enjoyable and productive and Innovation Unit staff did an excellent job pulling together views from a wide range of interested bodies – from ex-offenders, through professionals and parents who have lost children to drug addiction, to Family Court judges.
The model that has emerged from the design process reflects established best practice in many ways but has one key difference from existing provision. The difference was the idea that there should be a residential rehabilitation centre based in the local community, rather than far away in the countryside or seaside where most rehabs currently are. The design seeks to ensure that local residents are protected from drug using offenders in the early days of their treatment so that they do not suffer a mini-crime wave. At the same time, being based in their local community provides an opportunity to recovering drug users to maintain contact with their family and friends, re-build relationships and develop a personal support network. It is also envisaged that recovering drug users will get involved in volunteering locally, making some restoration to the local community that they previously disrupted.
The real benefit of such an approach will be the development of a group of programme graduates. Not only will they be able to mentor and support the next generation of drug users but they will be real life examples of how lives can be changed. Just how powerful these real-life role models can be came home to me in another piece of work I undertook recently. I evaluated a scheme for the Leicestershire Probation Trust which recruited ex-offenders to provide a health promotion service to people on probation. The scheme was extremely successful, succeeding in registering offenders with GPs and dentists and getting many to quit smoking, eat more healthily and exercise more. One professional described the effect of the health trainers returning as workers to the local prison in which they had, until quite recently, been locked up to deliver a health education session:
‘There was a fantastic impact on prisoners who can see what ex-offenders have achieved themselves. Seeing it is much more powerful than saying it and the fact that they are employed by the probation service makes it even stronger.’
A commissioner from the local Primary Care Trust succinctly described this impact, saying that the health trainers:
‘are the embodiment, the personification of hope’.
When the prisoners saw the people they used to do drugs and commit crimes with come into prison as employees, it was like looking into a very special mirror which showed them a potential future image of themselves. The prospect of real change suddenly became much more real.
Russell Webster blogs on the rapid changes in the way we deliver public services especially in the arena of crime and substance misuse treatment at: www.russellwebster.com/Blog
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