Slate

I’m currently enrolled in one of the first bachelor’s degree programs inside California prisons. The program is offered by California State University, Los Angeles, and the laptop is one of its perks. The students in my cohort—the program’s third, but the first to receive personal laptops—were all incarcerated at very young ages and sentenced to prison terms that reflect football scores. I’ve served 17 years of a 50-year-to-life sentence, and none of us foresaw living past our 18th birthdays, let alone attending university.

Since around 2016, telecommunications companies like ViaPath and Securus (which owns JPay) have issued thousands of tablets in prisons and jails nationwide. These devices are populated with prison-approved content and can’t connect to the internet unless they are hacked and updated with software, a process otherwise known as jailbreaking, or rooting. Jailbreaking a tablet can cost up to $300, and the reasons for doing it vary.

For more than 25 years, I’ve been in prison, where TV is a staple of prison life as essential as staff and more immutable than any rehabilitative program. Cell-block televisions are equal parts library, time machine, and mecca, instructing the incarcerated in the ways of the world they aspire to return to. Traditionally, most prisons have a communal TV, though some also sell personal TV sets.

Google is on the long list of things I took for granted prior to prison. Before I was incarcerated in 2014, I used Google often, relying on the search engine to satisfy my random curiosities. When that access was suddenly cut off, I began depending on others to answer my burning questions. Prison is isolating by design, and even things like obituaries are cruelly out of reach. Prisoners' Google requests reflect the whole spectrum of ups and downs you live through in prison.

When it comes to the technological advances that have graced our ever-expanding, ever-crowded, ever-exploitative prisons, observers rightly tend to point out the insidious panopticon they’ve enabled: sophisticated surveillance and security networks that ensnare the lives of nearly 2 million people locked up throughout the United States. But the technology that prisoners themselves use and depend on is frequently overlooked.

Around 1.9 million people are currently incarcerated in the United States, and an estimated 45 percent of Americans have at some point experienced the incarceration of an immediate family member. For many years, prisons have largely been tech bunkers, keeping incarcerated people isolated from the world outside. But things have started to change. In some cases, they changed because prison leaders recognized the need to connect incarcerated people to their communities.

It’s hard to calculate the number of homeless people in the US. At the end of 2022, the US Department of Housing and Urban Development placed the number around 600,000, with 60 percent living in emergency shelters, safe havens, or transitional housing. HUD counted the remaining 40 percent as unsheltered—living outside or in other places considered unfit for habitation, such as in abandoned buildings or underground. Tech permeates every step of the job-search process.