Article
Change
Freedom
Mental Health
3 min read

Coping in the chaos: Pentonville’s neurodiverse unit is changing prison life

A radical and caring prison experiment has changed both prisoners and wardens. Nick Jones visited London's oldest prison.

Nick is the senior editor of Seen & Unseen.

An arched gateway to a prison sits behind a low raised wall. No windows are visible
First opened in 1842, Pentonville Prison serves a large part of central and east London.
Ben Sutherland via Wikimedia Commons

A London prison has seen a reduction in violence among prisoners and improved staff morale thanks to a new neurodiverse unit.  Pentonville prison’s new unit identifies and treats prisoners with autism, brain-injury, learning difficulties and even dementia. 

Jo Davies, Pentonville’s managing chaplain, helped set up the programme after conducting many regular prisoner reviews with colleagues. She noted that there was an apparent higher incidence of autism among prisoners than the general population. 

Prison is a challenging environment for those with autism. Routines are imposed, vulnerabilities are exploited by others. Frustrations can boil over into violent and self-destructive behaviours. Non-verbal behaviour also makes each interaction with other prisoners and staff a potential flashpoint leading to protesting behaviours or withdrawal.  All against a backdrop of a harsh white noise. Metal doors slam, Conversations and challenges are shouted, all constantly echo through the four open floors of each wing of the prison.  

Other neurodiverse conditions are present in prisons. An ageing prison population even has prisoners suffering from early onset dementia. Some forget the circumstances of their imprisonment.  

Teaming up with prison officers and support staff like psychologists, doctors and teachers, chaplain Davies notes that “now staff make it their business to work out how to work with these prisoners”. The unit has capacity for 45 prisoners in single cells. They share a common area for eating and other activities. Staff spend 10 weeks assessing the prisoners who can then benefit from up to 12 weeks of additional support. 

Ruth Hipwell, who leads the new unit, says: “it’s good to have a place in prison for those people who can’t cope.” Support ranges from little things like teaching a prisoner how to make a cup of tea or providing earplugs to reduce noise, to helping prisoners make better plans for coping and learning – both in prison and outside. 

On the wall of the unit is a timetable of events, illustrated by pictograms. Sessions include how to handle familiar tasks in the unfamiliar environment of prison: how to buy things or use the telephone, getting clean clothes and even how to handle being unwell.  Other sessions include accessing learning and getting a job.  

Robbie*, a prisoner in the unit says:

“It relaxes you. It’s wicked. The difference is the support.” 

The unit started work in October 2022 and the difference it made was spotted fast. It transformed staff, recalls Hipwell. “They have found their purpose. We have a level of multi-agency integration others can’t match.” 

Ian Blakeman, Pentonville prison’s governor, identifies additional benefits. “It frees up staff time and staff export skills to other parts of the prison.” These positive effects also help him keep good staff. A major challenge in London’s competitive labour market.  Other programmes reinforce this change in culture across the prison range from addiction treatment to rebuilding family relationships affected by gang affiliations.  

Pentonville now has the lowest self-harm rates in the country and is the least violent prison of its type in the UK. 

With prisons a low political priority, it’s even more remarkable to learn that Pentonville’s neurodiverse unit required no additional budget. Its win-win results are a flicker of hope in a bleak landscape. Times columnist Matthew Parris recently wrote: 

“Every generation looks back and spots an outrage. Today, when we think of slavery, child labour and lunatic asylums, we wonder how our ancestors could have been so cruel. What will horrify our own successors is our disgraceful prison system.” 

In response to Parris’s column, Jonathan Aitken, a former prisoner and now a chaplain at Pentonville who works with the neurodiverse unit, wrote to the Times.   

“The real disgrace lies not inside our prisons but in the failure of both public and private rehabilitation efforts to help prisoners into jobs, housing and law-abiding lives after their release. The good work done by prison officers, managers and governors is underreported… We are on a roll of improvements… But such advances are like clapping with one hand if they are not met by comparable efforts to rebuild the lives of prisoners after they walk out of the gate. Correcting the failures in this area should be a high priority for our politicians and for our society.” 

Article
Change
Community
Eating
4 min read

Why cafes are sacred spaces

Socrates had the agora, we have the cafe
People sit in a busy cafe.
Cafe culture.

Autumn’s here. I can smell it before I even find a seat. The waft of pumpkin spice lattes hangs in the air of my favourite coffee spot – the unofficial sign, for me at least, that it’s time to wrap up warm.  

Personally, I’ll stick to my batch brew coffee, but I get the appeal. 

And while these drinks may change with the seasons, the ritual doesn’t. We keep coming back to cafes and coffee shops. To me, it feels as if we’re craving something more than just the caffeine.  

Cafes that fail to ride the wave of seasonal trends suffer – as the high street giant Costa found this summer, when it failed to cash in on the  TikTok-accelerated bandwagon of matcha lattes as the summer “it” drink and saw profits plummet.  

But it’s about more than just what’s on the menu. 

Starbucks has just announced plans to close branches across the UK, citing an inability to create the kind of physical environment customers now expect. 

Indie cafés, on the other hand, are growing in popularity, with the Observer putting this down to the “lifestyle experience” they offer. This is certainly true, but only half the story. From where I sit, these seasonal drinks appear to be the latest frothy disguise for our very human need for meaningful connection. 

Socrates had the agora. We have the café. 

Think about it.  

Cafes have become shared spaces where people work alone together, catch up with friends, debate, discuss, purchase, and consume. We signal loyalty with stamp cards, publicise our purchases on social media, and even join communities that gather around the cafés – running clubs;, book groups;, new  parent meetups. 

A sweeping glance from my current table offers an insight into this hive of connectivity. 

The walls are home to a temporary art gallery paying homage to local landmarks. 

The noticeboard is stacked with volunteering opportunities, mental health classes, indie gig flyers, and an invite to a Halloween party. 

A mother attempts to photograph and feed her child a babycino at the same time. 

A job interview, or perhaps a painfully awkward first date, unfolds quietly in the corner. 

Two young women laugh at last night’s antics. 

The barista explains the tasting notes of the latest batch brew to a customer redeeming a fully stamped loyalty card. 

An empty chair sits opposite me, waiting for a friend who, I know, will soon be bearing his soul. 

It all tells me that cafés have commodified our desire to belong. And we’re more than willing to buy into it. 

But I reckon there’s still something missing. 

Coffee culture doesn’t just tell us about our habits. It tells us about our humanity. In a world that longs for belonging but can’t stop scrolling, cafés hint at something deeper: that we were made not just for surface-level connection, but for something more lasting.  

In ancient Athens, the agora wasn’t just a marketplace or social hub. It provided a context for people to explore big questions of truth, beauty, virtue, and justice. It was the setting for public dialogue and philosophical inquiry. It was noisy, informal, often disruptive but always a space for serious thought. 

I’m not suggesting you take a soap box with you on your next caffeine fix. But I do think our modern cafés, for all their cosiness and cinnamon, are agora-like spaces which offer us an opportunity to go deep.  

They invite us to pause, to talk, to really think.  

Could it be that cafés offer us a place not just to consume or connect, but to consider the unseen things? To get beyond the froth and to the things of real substance? 

Over the years, I’ve found cafés can be unexpectedly sacred spaces. 

I’ve sat across from friends as they’ve wrestled with doubt, grief, purpose, and belief. And friends have sat across from me as I’ve worked these things through too. 

One tells me he’s started going to church, but doesn’t exactly know why. 
Another wants to read through a Gospel with me and figure out who Jesus is. 
One doesn’t really know who he is any more after a breakdown but is glad for the company. 
Another says his doubts about God began when a childhood friend was killed in a car accident. 
One wonders if God might be nudging him toward a big move to Cardiff. 

None of these conversations happened in a church. They happened here, in spaces designed for comfort but used for something far more courageous. 

This isn’t a new idea. Some of the earliest stories about Jesus show him not just teaching in temples, but sitting at tables, sharing meals, asking questions, listening. Real life. Real conversations. 

In my line of work, if Jesus does something, it’s advisable to follow suit. And I’ve found doing exactly that immensely rewarding. So much of my own spiritual formation has happened within the confines of a café.  

So perhaps the café could be a place where the unseen comes close. Where, over a batch brew or a seasonal latte, you might find yourself not just connected, but known. 

Maybe, like my friend, you’re not exactly sure what you believe. Maybe, like many of us, you’re just trying to make sense of it all. 

Either way, next time you’re in a café, don’t be afraid to go beyond the froth and get to the stuff with real flavour. 

Support Seen & Unseen

Since Spring 2023, our readers have enjoyed over 1,500 articles. All for free. 
This is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?
 
Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin
Editor-in-Chief