Prison staff: Barriers to reporting wrongdoing,an exploratory study

Introduction

The terms ‘reporting wrongdoing’ and ‘whistleblowing’ tend to be used interchangeably in the literature, but there are differences. In England and Wales, reporting wrongdoing in prisons is mandatory. His Majesty’s Prison and Probation Service (HMPPS) Counter Corruption (CC) Policy 2022 requires all staff and non-directly employed persons to report suspicions of wrongdoing and corruption through the appropriate channels. The policy defines ‘wrongdoing’ as:

Any behaviour that falls short of the professional standards expected of staff. Wrongdoing is a broad category and can be intentional or unintentional. It can encompass staff behaviours such as inadvertently overstepping professional boundaries with prisoners and supervised individuals, bullying and harassment, and inappropriate use of force as well as corruption (HMPPS, 2022: 6).

Although the term ‘corruption’ has been widely used, the complexities of trying to define what ‘corruption’ encompasses have long been recognised (Heidenheimer and Johnston, 2002; Rothstein and Varraich, 2017; Sparling, 2018). Furthermore, as Barrington et al. (2021) acknowledge, there is, as yet, no global consensus of what corruption looks like for prisons.

In the absence of a universal definition of prison corruption, HMPPS include an operational definition in their CC Policy:

A person in a position of authority or trust who abuses their position for benefit or gain for themselves or for another person. In prison and probation services, this would include the misuse of a person’s role to plan or commit a criminal act, or a deliberate failure to act to prevent criminal behaviour.

Where:

Abusing their position may include acting or failing to act …. ‘benefit’ or ‘gain’ can include financial, emotional, sexual or other personal and/or work-related reasons or any other perceived actual gain or benefit. Staff may be motivated by malicious or ‘noble causes’ (i.e. where individuals break the rules ‘for the right reasons’) (HMPPS, 2022: 7).

The CC Policy includes a non-exhaustive list of behaviours that fall within the definition. What is missing from the Policy is a definition of what constitutes professional boundaries and professional standards, so it is helpful to consider how this term has been defined by prison researchers. In 2001, Marquart et al. (2001) defined boundary violations as behaviours that ‘blur, minimise, or disrupt the professional distance between correctional staff members and prisoners’ (p. 878). These behaviours range from letting prisoners break rules (Blackburn et al., 2011) to trafficking contraband (Peterson and Kim, 2024b; Peterson et al., 2024a) and entering into sexual relationships (Jones, 2013; Worley et al., 2003, 2018). Although the behaviours vary in seriousness, they all have the potential to undermine prison stability (Worley and Cheeseman, 2006; Worley and Worley, 2011, 2013, 2016). However, professional boundaries are not clear-cut, and part of the skill of being a good prison staffer is recognising where the boundary should be with prisoners, particularly as professional boundaries can vary according to the prisoner and the member of staff (Liebling et al., 2011). Although HMPPS established a Professional Standards and Behaviour Group in 2024 with the aim of providing ‘support and practical interventions to improve professional standards’ (HMPPS, 2025a: 6), many of the staff problems still faced by prisons include poor supervision, low hiring standards, lack of training and the stressful nature of prison work, which have all been found to contribute to an increased prevalence of boundary violations (Lambert et al., 2009; Mahfood et al., 2013; Marquart et al., 2001; Worley and Worley, 2013).

In England and Wales, whistleblowing is protected by statute. ¹ Workers and employees have the right to make a claim to an employment tribunal if they are subjected to a detriment on the grounds they had made a ‘protected disclosure’. The term ‘detriment’ includes threats, loss of pay, disciplinary action and damage to career prospects. Furthermore, the dismissal of an employee will be automatically unfair if the reason for the dismissal is them making a protected disclosure. The Employment Rights Act 1996 defines a protected disclosure as any disclosure of information believed to be in the public interest, which relates to criminal offences, breach of legal obligation, miscarriages of justice, health and safety being endangered, damage to the environment or the deliberate concealing of information about any of these, provided the information is disclosed to one of the categories of people listed in the act. These categories include employers, and where certain conditions are met, the police, shareholders and the media.

The grounds for making a protected disclosure are therefore not as broad as HMPPS’ definition of ‘wrongdoing’. Consequently, reporting, for example, a prison officer who has violated professional boundaries through confiding personal problems to a prisoner is unlikely to be a ‘protected disclosure’. However, while a whistleblower has statutory protection, the reality is that a claim filed in the employment tribunal may take months, if not years, for a judicial decision to be given. This protection is likely to be considered by individuals as being of little use if, in the interim, they suffer significant organisational retaliation from their colleagues or their employer.

Most whistleblowing research has focussed on organisations outside the criminal justice sector (Miceli and Near, 1985; Near and Miceli, 1996; Rothschild and Miethe, 1999). Although some studies have included police forces (Rothwell and Baldwin, 2006, 2007; Gottschalk and Holgersson, 2011; Taylor et al., 2024), none of these studies included prison staff. However, it is reasonable to infer that prison staff experience some, if not all, of the same barriers to reporting wrongdoing as those in other organisations, particularly the police. In 2021, Nicholls et al. conducted a review of 217 whistleblowing studies across different countries and multiple domains including medicine, health, finance, government and the police. The review concluded there are a wide range of reasons associated with willingness (and unwillingness) to blow the whistle. These reasons include personal cost and benefits, outcome expectancies, the seriousness of the offence, the reporting system (in particular, whether reporting was anonymised and whether it was to an internal or external organisation) and the identity of the wrongdoer. One significant finding in the wider literature was the fear of retaliation after whistleblowing had occurred (Gottschalk, 2022) and the observation that the fear or threat of retaliation greatly reduces the likelihood of whistleblowing (Mesmer-Magnus and Viswesvaran, 2005; Rothschild and Miethe, 1999).

Policing studies have identified the occupational culture of policing as a major barrier to reporting wrongdoing. The theory that a strong sense of solidarity and loyalty to colleagues inevitably results in a ‘code of silence’ or ‘blue wall’ has attracted considerable support (Kutnjak Ivkovic et al., 2018; Porter and Prenzler, 2016; Westmarland, 2005; Westmarland and Rowe, 2018). However, in a more recent study in England and Wales, Conway and Westmarland (2021) argue that while the code of silence within police persists, it has changed in form. Instead of being motivated by loyalty and a sense of solidarity, the main reasons why police staff fail to report a colleague’s wrongdoing is more due to fear of being stigmatised and ostracised by colleagues. Another factor that might have eroded the code of silence is that since 2014, police are statutorily obliged to report wrongdoing, and a failure to do so could be regarded as a criminal offence and/or gross misconduct police. As police in the United Kingdom are subject to considerable surveillance through the presence of global positioning systems on vehicles, body worn cameras and the public who film events involving the police, the risk of being ‘found out’ is considerable. Consequently, there is an element of self-preservation in the decision to report, rather than maintain silence (Grace, 2024).

Prison staff culture

In order to understand the attitudes of prison staff towards wrongdoing, it is necessary to understand prison staff culture: the shared beliefs, values, informal rules and habits that determine how things are done within prison staff workgroups (Crawley and Crawley, 2008; Taylor, 2023). However, as Liebling (2008) notes, prison staff culture is complex and differs from prison to prison according to both security category and specific institutional cultures. There are also discernible subcultures between different staff groups. In this sense, it makes more sense to speak of prison officer cultures (Crawley, 2000: 307).

One of the challenges for prison staff is that it is impossible to enforce all the rules all the time (Liebling et al., 2012; Sykes, 1958). The area between the Prison Rules and ‘how things are done’ is framed by staff occupational cultures and is where staff exercise discretion in their interpretation of rules in their work (Garrihy, 2024). Consequently, rules are often bent in an effort to be more efficient and to make life easier for the staff (Crawley, 2000). This can lead to uncertainty around professional boundaries, particularly in the implementation of prison policies and procedures (Crawley, 2000; Liebling, 2000; Liebling et al., 2012; Liebling and Kant, 2016; McCarthy, 1984a, 1984b; Stohr et al., 2000). As McCarthy (1984b) points out, this discretionary power means there are ample incentives and opportunities for wrongdoing.

The culture of solidarity among prison officers has been described as the most significant cultural norm for prison officers and one which is central to an officer’s occupational identity (Arnold, 2016; Crawley, 2000; Crawley and Crawley, 2008). This is due to the need to rely on colleagues to provide support in dangerous situations and the shared experience of sometimes traumatic outcomes (Liebling et al., 2012). While solidarity might be a core component in the role of a prison officer, the code of silence has arguably been undermined by the constant ‘churn’ of staff who join then leave the prison service, fear of disciplinary action due to the mandatory reporting policy, as well as a more individualised culture which is ‘more about watching your own back than others’ (Arnold, 2016: 279).

Despite the erosion of the code of silence, there are still significant barriers to reporting prison staff wrongdoing, but there has been little research which directly attempts to identify those barriers. In Australia, the study by McIlwain (2005) involving non-custodial prison staff found that managerial indifference and fear of retaliation were major barriers. In a more recent study in the United States, Wells et al. (2021) found that low levels of job satisfaction, an organisational context which was hostile to whistleblowing and fear of retaliation correlated with lower levels of willingness to report wrongdoing. Prior to the author’s research, there have been no similar studies in England and Wales. However, given the staffing crisis reported by HM Inspectorate of Prisons, the survey findings of the Justice Committee (2023) and the conclusions in Rademaker Report (2024), it is unsurprising there is unwillingness among prison staff to report the wrongdoing of their colleagues, or of themselves.

One further aspect of prison staff culture that has not been explored in the penal literature is the ‘blame factor’. Policing research has established that where organisational culture attributes blame to an individual rather than to organisational shortcomings, the ability of staff to do their job effectively is reduced, as is the willingness of officers to admit to their own mistakes or report on others (Farrow, 2024). Furthermore, the perception that individuals will be blamed and punished increases mistrust, leading staff to become more cautious with what they document and record (Metcalfe, 2017). It is arguable that HMPP’s CC Policy focusses on individual deviance while ignoring organisational factors, thereby reducing staff willingness to report wrongdoing.

Reporting wrongdoing

All prison staff in England and Wales are trained to report the wrongdoing and self-harm of prisoners or security breaches such as an unlocked gate or missing tools through filing a security intelligence report (SIR), usually referred to as an intelligence report (IR). In a large prison, the number of IRs can be in the hundreds each week. ² IRs go to security analysts and the wider security team, and there is little stigma attached to filing these reports. However, allegations of corruption, breach of professional standards, conflicts of interest and conditioning behaviours are made through filing a corruption prevention intelligence report (CPIR). ³ The CPIRs go to a smaller number of people – the head of CC, the governor responsible for CC and, if the prison is large, other specialist staff. Reports can be made anonymously, but disciplinary action against the wrongdoer is unlikely to be taken unless the reporter is willing to waive anonymity and provide a statement. Prison staff can also call or send an email to an independent 24/7 integrity line, or to national or regional units. Again, these reports can be anonymous but can only be of use in disciplinary proceedings if the reporter is willing to give a statement. A Freedom of Information request made by the author established that in the 3 years from April 2019 to March 2023, the number of reports via the integrity hotline was 200 or less per year. This number increased to 318 in the April 2022–March 2023 period and then jumped to 764 in the year April 2023–March 2024 as a result of a funded campaign to increase awareness of the hotline (Ministry of Justice, 2024). The number has continued to increase, and by the end of 2025, the annual number of calls to the hotline was 3,563 (Ministry of Justice, 2026).

It is impossible to draw firm conclusions from these figures as reports include proven, disproven, duplicated and uncorroborated allegations. Furthermore, high reporting levels may be indicative of high confidence in the reporting system and staff awareness of what and how to report wrongdoing. However, it should be noted that the number of prison staff employed by HMPPS (2025b) in public sector prisons, including probation staff and those working in the Youth Custody Service as of September 2025, was 64,733, a figure which excludes (the many) staff who work in prisons but are not employed by HMPPS. The figures of CPIR reports and calls to the integrity hotline are therefore still relatively low. There is a need for academics to be permitted access to interrogate these reporting figures to establish whether there are correlating factors in the type and size of prisons.

Methodology

This article draws on a mixed-methods study conducted from January 2022 to June 2022 across two category B male local prisons of different sizes: one in England and one in Wales. ⁴ In the absence of any previous empirical studies on the barriers to reporting prison staff wrongdoing, the research was necessarily exploratory in nature. Permission from Cardiff University Ethics Committee was gained prior to submitting an application to the HMPPS National Research Council. To maintain participant confidentiality and anonymity, the prisons were called Beechfield and Chestnutwood, and all participants were given pseudonyms.

Data were collected through a confidential online survey distributed via internal email by the prison governor who acted as the gatekeeper to each prison. The survey was adapted from the ethical attitudinal questionnaire developed by Klockars et al. (1997, 2004), which has been utilised in over 80 policing studies in more than 30 countries. The first section of the survey included 17 scenarios of different types of prison officer wrongdoing (Appendix 1). Survey participants were asked to rate how serious they (and their colleagues) considered the wrongdoing to be: whether it was against prison policy and whether they (and their colleagues) would be willing to report the wrongdoing. Perceptions of the seriousness of each scenario were measured on a Likert-type five-point scale from 1 = ‘definitely not serious’ to 5 = ‘definitely serious’. The second section explored levels of staff satisfaction and the reasons why staff might engage in corruption. The third section focussed on perceptions of the extent of different types of corruption while the fourth section contained basic demographic details regarding age, gender, length of service and role. Participants were given the option of being interviewed or responding to open-ended questions about professional boundaries, vulnerabilities to corruption, whether CC training could be improved and availability of support for staff who were worried they had compromised their position/violated professional boundaries.

In addition to the survey, semi-structured interviews were conducted with participants across both sites. All participants signed consent forms prior to the interview. The interviews probed survey responses and included questions on the broader issues of boundary violations, staff vulnerabilities to wrongdoing and the perceived barriers to reporting wrongdoing. The interviews lasted between 60 and 90 minutes.

Data analysis

Both mean responses and percentages were subjected to parametric and non-parametric tests. This decision was based on the data analysis in policing studies which employed the policing integrity surveys of Klockars et al. (e.g. Kutnjak Ivkovic and Khuchumyan, 2014; Porter and Prenzler, 2016; Vito et al., 2011; Westmarland and Conway, 2020). The audio recordings of the interviews were manually transcribed verbatim. Identifying information was removed, and data were securely stored. The textual responses to the survey questions were analysed alongside the interview data. Clarke and Braun’s (2016) six-phase approach of reflective thematic analysis was employed to analyse the interview transcripts.

Findings

Surveys were sent to all staff in each prison (n = 630). Given the historically low level of staff participation in prison surveys, the response rate of 14.39% was not unexpected. Twenty surveys were not completed and were therefore discarded, leaving a response rate of 11.11%. However, there was a broad range of participant roles including prison officers, management, healthcare staff, charity workers, teachers and administrative staff. Fifteen staff agreed to be interviewed, and a further 19 survey participants provided detailed textual responses to the open-ended survey questions.

The low response rate meant it is impossible to provide appropriate statistical power to discover whether there were generalisable significant differences between demographic factors and survey responses. However, with this proviso in mind, the findings showed that younger staff (under 25 years old) considered a number of scenarios less serious than other respondents: failing to report that a prisoner had been a school friend; theft of prisoner property and putting a sex offender at risk. In addition, younger, inexperienced uniformed staff were significantly less likely to consider assault on a prisoner as serious and were less willing to report such behaviour. These findings replicate those from research on prison boundary violations where younger officers were found to be more likely to support the mistreatment of prisoners (Worley et al., 2021) and that the first 12 months of employment was the riskiest period for boundary violations (Cheeseman Dial and Worley, 2008; Marquart et al., 2001). In England and Wales, the percentage of prison officers with less than 3 years of experience has consistently increased while the percentage of officers with over 10 years of experience has decreased since the mass voluntary redundancies that took place due to budget cuts between 2010 and 2016. Inexperienced staff understandably lack knowledge of rules and policies, but due to a lack of experienced staff and ‘eyes on the wing’, they have no one to guide them and no one to challenge their errors of judgement. The survey data and the earlier findings highlight that inexperienced staff are most at risk of engaging in wrongdoing.

As can be seen in Figure 1 below, the findings from the scenario questions were consistent with those of the earlier policing integrity studies, demonstrating a strong positive correlation between the perception of seriousness of a wrongdoing behaviour and the willingness to report. Despite the differences between Chestnutwood and Beechfield in terms of size, location and percentage of experienced staff, the relative evaluations for all the scenarios across both sites were remarkably similar. These findings suggest that all five questions for each scenario measured the same phenomenon – the degree of prison staff intolerance for wrongdoing. The results of this study therefore indicate that prison staff share a common understanding of the seriousness of different types of wrongdoing committed by prison staff. The responses for both sites were merged to produce mean scores for perception of seriousness and willingness to report in each scenario.

OPEN IN VIEWER

Figure 1.

Respondents’ perception of seriousness and willingness to report – mean scores.

In response to the survey question of whether participants would report wrongdoing, 88.6% said they would report wrongdoing to their manager, and 98.6% said they would file an IR. However, this high level of willingness to report was only replicated in the four survey scenarios that were considered most serious. This could indicate that the participants did not consider the 13 other scenarios serious enough to warrant reporting, or that there was a difference between knowing what should be done rather than what would be done. This suggestion is consistent with Rothwell and Baldwin’s (2007) findings that mandating whistleblowing in police forces increases whistleblowing intentions but not the frequency of actually blowing the whistle.

How respondents view colleagues

Klockars et al. (2004) included questions about how respondents thought their colleagues would respond to the scenarios and whether their colleagues would report the scenario behaviour. These ‘other view’ questions have continued to be included in subsequent policing research. One repeated finding from the Klockars et al. approach is that respondents believe other police officers consider the scenarios less serious and would be less willing to report wrongdoing than the respondents themselves. The reasons for these findings have not been discussed in any detail in the policing studies beyond a suggestion that respondents considered themselves as more ethical than their colleagues (Klockars et al., 2006). However, in their research focussed on ‘non-reporters’, Porter and Prenzler (2016) found that while the non-reporters believed their views on seriousness were in line with their colleagues, they, in fact, perceived the scenarios as less serious. The non-reporters also held more cynical views about the behaviour of most officers. These misconceptions held by the non-reporter may ‘feed their belief that they are thinking and acting in line with the majority view and reinforce their choice not to report’ (Porter and Prenzler, 2016: 381).

As can be seen from Figures 2 (perceptions of seriousness) and 3 (willingness to report), the findings from the policing integrity studies were replicated on every scenario in this study.

OPEN IN VIEWER

Figure 2.

Mean scores for respondents’ perception of seriousness and opinion of colleagues’ perception of seriousness.

OPEN IN VIEWER

Figure 3.

Mean scores for respondents’ willingness to report and opinion of colleagues’ willingness to report.

Qualitative findings

The interviews explored the survey findings and the perceived barriers to reporting wrongdoing. Interview participants (all of whom had over 3 years of experience) expressed concern that inexperienced staff would struggle with recognising and maintaining professional boundaries. The word ‘naïve’ was used by several participants to describe the actions of inexperienced staff who incorrectly exercised their discretion and unintentionally violated boundaries. These staff also lacked the knowledge of what to do once they had realised their position had been compromised – often leading to further erosion of professional boundaries. With almost 35.7% of band 3–5 prison officers having less than 3 years of experience and fewer than 24.9% of officers having over 10 years of experience (HMPPS, 2025b), this is a serious problem for the prison service.

Barriers to reporting wrongdoing

Reporting on colleagues

The survey findings revealed that only 11.6% of participants believed that no staff turned a blind eye to corrupt behaviours. This suggests that where there is any ambiguity or uncertainty, it might be easier for staff to avoid the ethical dilemma of reporting on a colleague by failing to do so.

The barriers to reporting identified from the survey and interviews fell into four themes shown in Figure 4. These factors are the lack of knowledge and rules, the adverse consequences of reporting, the high level of distrust and prison staff culture.

OPEN IN VIEWER

Figure 4.

Barriers to reporting wrongdoing.

Knowledge and rules

As described earlier, whether or not a type of wrongdoing is perceived to be serious strongly impacts the staff member’s willingness to report it, even if the type of wrongdoing is recognised as against prison policy. Although interview participants were confident, they knew when to correctly exercise their discretion to ‘bend the rules, they did not seem to appreciate that naïve staff could copy their behaviour and, if lacking in jailcraft, might fail to ensure the boundary crossings did not become boundary violations. To take a straightforward example: prison officers are instructed to be ‘friendly, but not friends’. If a prisoner asks an officer if they have been on holiday, an experienced officer can reply in a friendly manner to confirm they have been on holiday and that they had a good time but not give away any more information. However, an inexperienced officer might be drawn into revealing too many personal details – details that might leave them open to future manipulation and/or blackmail. Although experienced participants were able to justify rule-bending on the basis that it facilitated the running of the prison, these behaviours can become embedded into daily structures and practices, so they are no longer recognised as wrongdoing. This collective enacting of wrongdoing can become institutionalised over time, and although the slide into what Ashforth and Anand (2003) describe as the slippery slope of ‘collective corruption’ is not inevitable, it requires proactive intervention to ensure professional boundaries are maintained.

Distrust

Previous research has established that the procedure for reporting wrongdoing, in particular whether it is anonymised and whether reporting is to an internal or external organisation, is strongly associated with willingness to report (Nicholls et al., 2021). Although IRs and CPIRs are meant to be confidential and only accessible by security staff, there was very little faith in the confidentiality of the reporting system. Not only was there a fear that the reporter’s name would become known, but the name of the person being investigated would also become known. Both situations could result in negative consequences for the person(s) identified:

That’s the thing about the service, everyone knows everyone’s business in this place and everyone talks about everyone’s business. So there’s no confidentiality.

As with many of the other findings in this study, there was a significant level of distrust between staff, between staff and management and in the reporting system itself. There was also distrust between custodial HMPPS staff and non-HMPPS staff such as healthcare and teaching staff. The level of distrust in the reporting system was matched by a lack of confidence in the response or outcome after filing a report:

I have submitted multiple CPIR’s against staff, nothing is done.

Furthermore, if a member of staff reported on a colleague who was subsequently found not guilty of wrongdoing, they could return to the workplace where the reporter would:

Have to live with the stigma that they reported that member of staff.

This lack of confidence in the reporting system leads to an understandable reluctance to report wrongdoing.

Prison staff culture

Prison staff work in an environment isolated from the rest of the society. They need to fit in with their colleagues and feel part of a team. This is particularly the case for officers who have to rely on their colleagues coming to their aid in the face of prisoner violence. However, the findings showed that many prison staff feel ignored, undervalued and unsupported by managers and society despite working in a stressful and challenging environment. These staff may become cynical and isolated from their team and either look for money-making opportunities and/or become more vulnerable to being manipulated and groomed by prisoners. Of course, not all disillusioned prison staff will engage in serious wrongdoing as their personal moral scruples and the fear of being caught might deter them from becoming corrupt. However, disillusioned staff may become ‘jobsworths’ and decide to complete their work duties with minimum effort and minimum input. Although these staff members might never decide to actively engage in criminal activities, their behaviour can still amount to wrongdoing. As Gooch and Treadwell (2021) argue, turning a blind eye to prisoner rule-breaking or being unwilling to intervene on wings and abdicating responsibility through doing as little as possible is as much a type of corruption as criminal behaviour such as the trafficking of contraband.

Consequences

Although only 15 participants were interviewed in this study, three had personal experience of retaliatory behaviour from staff when they had reported the wrongdoing of a colleague. The forms of retaliation included being ostracised, ignored by management and staff, deliberate damage to their work property and personal property, threats of violence and the filing of false corruption reports. This final form of retaliation amounted to both an attack and a defence by the person reported on: through filing a false corruption report on the person who reported on them, the wrongdoer both diverted limited investigatory resources towards the reporter and punished the reporter who would then suffer the stress of being the subject of an investigation into the false allegations made against them.

What can be done?

Participants repeatedly referred to the need for better vetting and recruitment, as well as increased training – both initial and ongoing. Staff need to understand why rules are in place, to be taught how minor wrongdoing can escalate and that ‘friendly and/or helpful’ prisoners might have an agenda of their own. Not only should more initial training time be devoted to maintaining professional boundaries, but ongoing training should be offered through regular team meetings to provide a learning opportunity where staff can voice their concerns about whether they or someone else had done something wrong without the fear of being disciplined. These regular meetings should increase contact between management and the staff so that the staff feel listened to by management while management can get to know their staff as well as offer support and guidance.

One possible way to address the distrust in the reporting system could be for an external body to be appointed to investigate wrongdoing. Not only would this reduce the investigatory burden on over-stretched staff, but an independent investigatory body could also increase trust in the reporting system and increase transparency in the process:

I think if it’s done that way and it’s passed over to someone else externally then there’s more transparency as well. So, from the public’s point of view, the prison service aren’t seen as hiding something cos if someone is doing wrongdoing, they have access to it.

It is not suggested that an external investigatory body could bring about all these hoped for changes, but there has been a trend towards external corruption investigatory bodies in Western countries in the last 20 years to give individuals greater confidence to report acts of corruption (Goldsmith, 2020). In response to the Rademaker Report (2024) into bullying and harassment in the prison service, HMPPS (2025a) announced their intention to establish a central unit of experts outside the line-management chain to be responsible for handling bullying, harassment, discrimination and victimisation complaints. However, there has been no announcement regarding the creation of an external investigatory body to handle other forms of wrongdoing. What is clear from the findings of this study is that the current reporting and investigation methods employed by HMPPS are not as effective or as trusted as they should be. They need to be seen to work in practice and need to be proactive, rather than reactive.

Conclusion

Despite reviewing 118 papers on the barriers and facilitators of the willingness of police officers to report on misconduct, Taylor et al. (2024) concluded there are significant knowledge deficits as to what encourages more reporting. ‘Moreover, it is clear that there are important gaps in the theoretical approach to this question’ (Taylor et al., 2024: 12). Given the paucity of research focussed on the barriers to reporting prison staff wrongdoing, this study has only begun to address the knowledge gap.

The current HMPPS approach to tackling wrongdoing in prisons is focussed on serious wrongdoing, in particular, stopping individuals from trafficking contraband. This focus ignores the many types of less-serious wrongdoing which become embedded in the organisational structure and are no longer perceived to be serious enough to be reported. Instead, minor wrongdoing becomes a part of the prison staff culture and the way ‘things are done’. In the absence of experience, knowledge and a fear of being disciplined for minor wrongdoing, inexperienced staff may find it is easier to continue down the slippery slope to the abysses below rather than report their mistakes. For those staff observing colleagues on the edge of the slippery slope or part way down the slope, they have to first recognise the behaviour as wrongdoing and then decide whether to report it. However, as this study has shown, even if a type of wrongdoing is recognised to be serious enough to be reported, there are significant barriers faced by those who decide to report their own wrongdoing or those of a colleague. Given the high levels of distrust between staff and particularly between staff and management, there was a real fear that being identified as a whistleblower would lead to retaliation. Even if the barriers are overcome, there was a general belief that, in the end, nothing would be done. Given the potential consequences, it is unsurprising that many people would prefer to turn a blind eye and convince themselves that what they saw was not, after all, so serious as to warrant filing a report.

Limitations

This was a small-scale exploratory study. The findings cannot be generalised to the wider prison estate, and they reflect the opinions of the staff who worked in two specific category B prisons.