A new dystopia for our societies?

From Philip Dick to open prisons

by George M. Chatzistergiou

In one of the books of Philip Dick, the ingenious American thinker who used science fiction to probe into the essence of post-war American society, people hit by poverty and destitution jostle to secure a place on space shuttles and continue their lives on other planets, even though living conditions there are completely unclear. What the hapless passengers do not know is that they are involuntarily taking part in a programme for the systematic elimination of a large part of Earth’s population — a necessary measure, as purely financial calculations have indicated. As it turns out, the rockets are launched into the dark outer space to explode, not to land anywhere safely.

Happily for us, science fiction is neither literal nor prophetic in a narrow sense. We can rest assured that we shall not see such things in our lifetime. Nevertheless, certain aspects of today’s reality present some horrific similarities with the work of Philip Dick. Specifically, ever since Greece signed the memorandum for its bailout deal, it resembles a third-class carriage in which its inhabitants have been crammed like a bunch of phobic and guilt-ridden passengers. The vehicle goes from one stop to the next along a route designed by outside centres, but the key detail is that the final destination remains unknown. What will the place where the vehicle will stop to put us down will look like?

The truth is that it takes no special powers to predict the future that lies in store for us. Suffice it to examine an existing ecosystem which shows, quite unexpectedly, some strange parallels with ours.

The open-prison ecosystem

The open-prison system is a correctional system of enforced habitation used mainly in the United States but also in other countries like Mexico. It differs from "normal" prisons mainly in that inmates have relatively greater freedom of movement (they may be able to bring in their families) within a place that resembles a small town. The system has often attracted the attention of Hollywood, and several films employ such settings for their “story”. Some of the main features of the system and the experience of living in such a context are the following:

• The main assumption is that the inmates are guilty. While this guilt refers initially to past actions, in practice it is regularly renewed through new infringements inevitably perpetrated in the prison’s harsh environment;

• Prison management is answerable to a remote centre to which the inmates have practically no access;

• Management arbitrariness is prevalent, often culminating in outright violations of the generally accepted "legal culture" (excessive punitive practices, raids into living quarters, tailing and discrimination among the inmates);

• Another aspect of the above is tolerance to various forms of delinquency on the part of “those below”, which may be anything from allowing the sale of drugs or contraband tobacco to turning a blind eye to the activities of gangs that sell “protection” to inmates against “rival” gangs in exchange for prostitution, etc. In some cases these gangs are used as the “long arm” of the system;

• There is no privacy. Management or gangs violate at will the inmates” private space, which is “transparent” to begin with;

• Despite the designation “open”, in essence the scope for moving around the prison or, of course, wandering about is extremely limited. The so-called "public space" —i.e. the areas outside the living quarters— is in effect an environment too dangerous to frequent;

• The low standards of hygiene in such an environment, or the deficient medical care for any sufferers, come as no surprise. The epidemiology of open prisons, just as that of shanty towns, has yet to be written;

• The inmates’ educational level is clearly arrested. There are no learning opportunities apart from training in certain practical —usually manual— skills as a cheap way of meeting the needs of the management;

• "Charitable ladies" (in any form such a scheme may assume in today’s world) constitute one of the inmates’ few hopes for temporary relief when they visit to hand out food, sweets or small gifts;

• Ultimately, there is no prospect of any alternative way out (as inmates have no say in developments) while the dimension of the future is absent from what is generally a stagnant life.

A need for new approaches and practices

The similarities between the system of open prisons and the regime currently promoted in our society but also, gradually, all over Europe are hair-raising. Yet any resignation on our part that this is how our life cycle will end would be tantamount to suicide. Simply put, it is not a life worth living. Therefore we must resist, in the most effective way possible. How?

First of all, we must stop pretending not to see, call things by their proper names and immediately draw a red line behind which we will not retreat. At the same time it is extremely urgent to formulate a strategy as to the way in which we wish to influence developments. Universities and professional unions —from the Technical Chamber to the General Confederation of Greek Workers and its research Institute— must overcome their serious wounds from the age of austerity and come forward with concrete studies and proposals for restarting the country’s production mechanisms with new prospects. A decisive contribution to this task must come from the vast reserves of underemployed Greek scientists; apart from the need to display social conscience, all this is crucial to their own survival as well.

These priorities aside, it is crucial to realise that our actions should aim at building rather than demolishing, contrary to the atmosphere that prevails in the mire of despair and is expressed with cries like “let everything come down at last, so that we can start anew!" In practice, this would only facilitate the new dystopian order and accelerate its advent, as it would establish irreversible obstacles for the people of this country to produce in their own interests—or, indeed, to produce at all. In effect, as we can see in the examples of our neighbouring Bulgaria or Romania, there is no bottom to the pit of destruction.

We must also re-examine practices which may have been effective in improving conditions in the world of “yesterday” but are not so today. For example, if we want to defend state education, is it more expedient to shut down our schools and universities or, conversely, to find ways to keep them open at all costs? Could we envisage a transport workers’ action which would not add to the problems of an already harassed population but would offer instead free travel to passengers on those days? More generally, the social movement must shed the logic of protecting the narrow interests of specific industries (in any case a tactic doomed to fail in this phase) and focus on coordinating the actions of a large majority of society in favour of our collective interests. This is the only way to ensure the prospect of victory.

The game is not lost

Ultimately, it is imperative that we join forces with all those with whom we share common interests around the world and acquire a global view, giving new meaning to “globalisation” which has hitherto operated as a tool for the oppression of the many by the few. Although this is a mid-term objective which does not address the pressing priorities of today, it still helps as a compass for those short-term aims as well. Only thus can there emerge broad, even supranational alliances with the added, uncontested advantage of holding the "moral high ground" over the spectre of open prisons.

We cannot avoid the temptation of reaching the same conclusion as Serge Halimi, director of Le Monde diplomatique: "All it [the system] is capable of producing now are privileges, and cold, dead beings. A change will occur. Each of us can help it happen a little sooner ".