Dan,

Thanks for forwarding this excellent summary article.  But actually, it
only underscores the point I was making about the Chinese exploitation
of prison labor, and the inevitable result of its emulation here, given
capitalism.  Really, this is only common sense.

20 years ago, there were few instances of  this sort of hiring out of
prisoners in this country to private corporations.  Prisoners were
employed making license plates and working on "pea farms,"  but not in
private industry.   Doubtless, this was due in large part to the
relative political clout of organized labor in the post-WWII era.  To
them, to, it was common sense that you cannot have some men working at
slave wages and have other "free wage" laborers, whose wage level is to
some degree elevated and maintained by effective collective bargaining,
be able to compete with them. Those manufacturers who employ slave labor
at slave wages have an overwhelming advantage in keeping down labor
costs.

This worked fine till globalization came along.  Now "the price of eggs
in China" really begins to matter.  Now if some manufacturer in China
producing for the global market can employ incarcerated labor, and thus
bring labor costs way down below subsistence levels, that manufacturer
soon begins to enjoy a commanding advantage in the market, effectively
eliminating from competition those manufacturers who pay higher
(subsistence +) wages.  This in turn systematically throws many free
wage laborers out of work, and, jobless, many turn to crime and/or
drugs.  This enters them into the portal of the one response remaining
to the system:   a "correctional" approach to the problem, wherein these
victims are doubly victimized, now being forced to compete with their
Chinese counterparts as state-subsidized incarcerated labor.   The only
alternative to all this was a principled embargo of at least the
relevant Chinese goods:  those known to be produced by incarcerated
labor.  But this was never attempted by the government, which prefers to
use the embargo on those Third World countries who interfere with
"American interests"  (foreign investments), like Cuba, Iraq and, with
less coherency, Yugoslavia (whose still somewhat socialized economy
represents a thwart but not really an interference to American economic
imperialism).  Indeed, China has, with the exception of some political
rumblings over there just this week, shown itself quite amenable to
Western foreign investment.  Therefore, the embargo approach is out of
the question, and organized labor today is both too politically weak and
too ideologically ignorant to pursue this on its own.   Therefore, since
we don't beat 'em, we have to join 'em (that is, join them in
hyperexploitation of incarcerated labor as an increasing factor in
production.).   QED.

Peace,
Ken

-----Original Message-----
From: The philosophy, work & influences of Noam Chomsky
[mailto:[log in to unmask]]On Behalf Of Dan Koenig
Sent: Sunday, March 19, 2000 3:26 AM
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: [CHOMSKY] Prison Labour and Human Rights in . . . .


This was forwarded to me recently.  Can anybody factually document its
truth or falsity?  If true, what is all the kerfuffel about Chinese
prison labour?  More about a non-tariff barrier than about human
rights?  Dan


-I just stumbled upon this while surfing the net.  Here's the website.
http://www.corpwatch.org/trac/feature/prisons/editorial.html
-If this is true, it's pretty scary.

-Chris K.

Capitalist Punishment

October 28, 1999

   The assembly lines at CMT Blues look like those at any other US
garment
   factory, except for one thing: the workers are watched over by armed
guards.
   CMT Blues is housed at the Maximum Security Richard J. Donovan State
   Correctional Facility outside San Diego.

   Seventy workers sew T-shirts for Mecca, Seattle Cotton Works, Lee
Jeans
   and other US companies. The highly prized jobs pay minimum wage. Less
than
   half goes into the inmate workers' pockets--the rest is siphoned off
to
   reimburse the state for the cost of their incarceration and to
victims'
restitution
   fund. The California Department of Corrections Joint Venture Program,
and
   CMT Blues owner Pierre Slieman say they are providing inmates with
job
   skills and work experience.

   But two inmates and former CMT Blues employees say Sleiman and the
Department
of Corrections are operating a
   sweatshop behind bars. What's more, they say that prison officials
retaliated
against them when they blew the whistle on
   corruption at the plant. Inmates Charles Ervin and Shearwood Flemming
spent 45
days in solitary confinement after
   talking to reporters about an alleged label switching scheme in which
they
claim they were forced to replace "made in
   Honduras" labels with "made in USA" tags. They are suing CMT Blues
and the
California Department of Corrections for
   labor and civil rights violations.

   The CMT Blues scandal and the host of human rights and labor issues
it raises,
is just the tip of the iceberg in a web of
   interconnected business, government and class interests which critics
dub the
"prison industrial complex." Borrowing from
   the phrase "military industrial complex" coined by President Dwight
Eisenhower
during the Cold War, the term refers to
   the growing political and economic power that emanates from the
increasingly
intertwined relationship between private
   corporations and what were once exclusively public institutions. In
short,
incarceration has become big business. And it's
   booming.

   The prison industry now employees more than half a million
people-more than
any Fortune 500 corporation, other than
   General Motors. Mushrooming construction has turned the prison
industry into
the main employer in scores of
   economically depressed rural communities. And there are a host of
firms
profiting from private prisons, prison labor and
   services like healthcare and transportation.

   Today, there are over 1.7 million people incarcerated in the United
States,
more than in any other industrialized country.
   They are disproportionately African American and Latino (almost 70%
of US
prisoners are people of color) and two
   thirds are serving sentences for non-violent crimes. One in three
African
American men between the ages of 20 and 29 is
   either in jail, on probation or parole. 1.4 million black men-or 13%
of
African American men-- have lost the right to vote
   because they have committed felonies.

   Taxpayers foot the bill for "get tough" policies that treat a
generation of
young people-mostly young people of color-as
   expendable. New York and California, states that once had arguably
the finest
public university systems in the country,
   now spend more money locking people up than on giving them a college
education. Meanwhile, prison gates are swinging
   wide open for corporations. Some like CMT Blues, Microsoft, Boeing,
TWA, and
Victoria's Secret, are using low cost
   prison labor for every thing from manufacturing aircraft components
and
lingerie to booking reservations.

   In addition to companies exploiting prison labor, there are eighteen
or so
private prison corporations that control about
   100,000 prison beds across the country. The largest, the
Nashville-based
Corrections Corporation of America-whose
   securities were dubbed the theme stock of the nineties by one
investment
firm--also operates private prisons in Puerto
   Rico, Australia, the UK and will soon open one in South Africa. These
private
lockups cut corners on labor costs, often
   hiring untrained, inexperienced guards, leading to a dismal record of
escapes
and brutality against inmates.

   In a Texas prison operated by one company, guards were videotaped
beating,
shocking, kicking and setting dogs on
   prisoners. While private prisons hardly have a monopoly on such
violence,
critics argue that hiring low wage, untrained
   guards-some of them with criminal records of their own-makes
brutality more
likely.

   The prison industry is not a new phenomenon, but rather has some grim
historical antecedents. As death row journalist
   Mumia Abu-Jamal argues in a special column for Corporate Watch,
mixing the
profit motive with punishment only invites
   abuse reminiscent of one of the ugliest chapters in US history.
"Under a
regime where more bodies equal more profits,
   prisons take one big step closer to their historical ancestor, the
slave pen,"
writes Jamal.

   In fact, prison labor has its roots in slavery. Following
reconstruction,
former Confederate Democrats instituted "convict
   leasing." Inmates, mostly freed slaves convicted of petty theft, were
rented
out to do everything from picking cotton to
   building railroads. In Mississippi, a huge prison farm resembling a
slave
plantation later replaced convict leasing. The
   infamous Parchman Farm was not closed until 1972, when inmates
brought suit
against the abusive conditions in federal
   court.

   Today, criminal justice issues have become so urgent that organizing
efforts
by diverse communities around the country
   are beginning to pierce the deafening "tough on crime" drumbeat
espoused by
pundits and policy makers for the last 20
   years. Community organizers, church groups, labor unions and
progressive think
tanks are coming together to fight prison
   privatization in the South. Organizations like Families against
Mandatory
Minimums are fighting discriminatory sentencing.
   Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch put prison issues at the
top of
their US agenda. In Concord, California
   2,000 Latino students have taken to the streets to demand "education
not
incarceration," as part of a protest against the
   backlash against immigrant communities.

   Labor code and freedom of speech violations like those alleged in the
suit
against CMT Blues also resonate beyond
   prison walls. UNITE, the garment workers union, has joined inmates
Ervin and
Flemming in their suit against the clothing
   manufacturer and the California Department of Corrections. And the
suit has
caught the attention of first amendment
   advocates who would like to overturn California's ban on journalist
interviews
with state prisoners.

   Punishment endured by prisoners like Ervin and Flemming has "an
incredible
chilling effect on prisoners because,
   combined with the media access ban, they know they can't communicate
(with the
press) with out suffering retaliation,"
   explains Joseph Pertel, an attorney for the inmates. Pertel says it
was
actually a prison employee, not his clients, who
   called a local television station. Nevertheless, the two men, both
convicted
of second-degree murder, spoke out against
   working conditions at CMT Blues jeopardizing their eventual parole.

   Because prisoners have so little voice on the outside, we highlight
writings
by prison journalists in this Feature, including
   an original column by Mumia Abu-Jamal and writings from Prison Legal
News,
edited by two Washington State inmates.
   Contributor Alex Friedmann, due to be paroled next month, was
transferred out
of a CCA private prison into a
   Tennessee state penitentiary, when his reporting behind bars angered
company
executives. We hope that by giving a
   voice to those inside prison walls we can contribute to a dialogue on
redirecting criminal justice policy in this country.

   --Julie Light
   For Corporate Watch