Slave labor abounds in Texas prisons
When a Harris County judge passes a sentence, the gavel he cracks on the bench was more than likely made by forced, unpaid prison labor.
When a family goes to a San Antonio park for a cookout, the metal barbecue grill they use to grill hot dogs was also made by a Texas prisoner working without pay. And when a pupil boards a bus in the Conroe, Brazosport or Spring Branch school districts, the engines that power them were overhauled by a felon earning no wages, according to data obtained through the Public Information Act.
President Joe Biden recently banned products made by unpaid prison labor in China, including cotton and solar panels from Xinjiang province, where Muslims are jailed for their religious beliefs. But Texas also requires prisoners to work for free or face punishment, one of only five states where forced labor continues.
The system of coercing people to work without pay is called slavery. Ironically, unpaid prison labor was codified in the U.S. Constitution after the Civil War by the 13th Amendment, which prohibits slavery “except as a punishment for crime.”
The United States incarcerates about 1.8 million people, more than any other country. Most of these are not awaiting trial, but
people who have been sentenced to prison as punishment for their crimes. An ongoing debate is whether their time behind bars should be spent working, learning or sitting in cages.
Most states require the incarcerated to work or learn, preferably both. Prisons rely on the confined for maintenance and operations, such as janitorial and food services. But almost all systems sell prison-made goods and services too.
Texas has the largest state prison population in the country, and state law requires the Texas Department of Criminal Justice to use their labor as much as possible without pay.
Texas Correctional Industries, established by the Legislature in 1963, “manufactures goods and provides services for sale, on a for-profit basis, to city, county, state and federal agencies, public schools, public and private institutions of higher education, public hospitals and political subdivisions.”
Prison labor makes office furniture for state agencies, including the fancy leather chairs provided to lawmakers in the House and Senate chambers. Prisoners make the razor wire strung over the fences around jails and prisons. They even grow and harvest cotton to make prison uniforms.
“All inmates who are
able are assigned a job and are required to work,” Texas Department of Criminal Justice spokesman Jeremy Desel said in an email exchange. “If inmates refuse to work, they can lose privileges like commissary, recreation and in the worst-case scenarios good time credits related to work.”
In other words, refusing to work can extend the time they spend in prison. While working can help speed an incarcerated person’s release and perhaps teach them a valuable skill, it does not allow them to build a nest egg for when they reenter society.
Texas Correctional Industries, meanwhile, brings in more than $70 million a year for the prison system.
Texas offers a chance for the incarcerated to work for private companies and earn a wage under the Prison Industry Enhancement Certification Program. The laborer can even make above minimum wage learning a valuable skill.
But the state deducts the bulk of the earned income for taxes, room and board, family support, restitution and a crime victims’ fund. In December, 66 out of 121,000 people were enrolled in the program.
Houston and other local governments are waking up to the injustice. In November, Houston City Council members Abbie Kamin and Carolyn EvansShabazz objected to a $4.2 million contract for unpaid
prisoners to replace tire treading on the city’s commercial trucks and tractortrailers.
Mayor Sylvester Turner put the contract out for new bids, and Southern Tire Mart agreed to do the work for $4.6 million. The decision did not help the city budget, but it was a moral decision.
Texas is undoubtedly one of the harsher states in which to do time. Whether you think that’s good or bad depends on whether you believe the goal of incarceration is punishment or rehabilitation. One thing is sure, though: the former leads to more crime, the latter allows people to change their lives.
The 13th Amendment may allow prisons to turn people into slaves, but that doesn’t mean they should. Most states pay a wage of some sort, even if it’s $1 a day. Earning money reinforces the dignity of work; treating someone like a slave only breeds resentment.
The next time you get indignant about how China forces prisoners to work without pay, tamp down the self-righteousness and check out the Texas Correctional Industries website. Slave labor is alive and well in Texas too, and its products are all around you.