“As crime hurts, justice should heal"— John Braithwaite (Australian criminologist)

In my debut op-ed, I referred to the Norwegian prison system and how I felt it may provide solutions to our broken system. I believe that Norway’s unique penal philosophy fosters an environment that is conducive to rehabilitation while maintaining a deterrence against crime and respect for the victims of serious offences. My hope is that over the course of my previous opinions, the appetite has grown for alternatives to the outdated prison model of this country.

Norway’s correctional system has gained global attention for its emphasis on rehabilitation over retribution. Unlike many punitive systems, Norway approaches incarceration with the “principle of normality” at its core. This dictates that life inside prison should resemble life outside prison as closely as possible. The deprivation of liberty is the punishment, rather than the imposition of harsh conditions or suffering.

This philosophy was borne out of systematic reviews on the ineffectiveness of more punitive models of incarceration and their effect on reducing recidivism. During the 1980s and 1990s, Norwegian officials acknowledged that harsh punishments often worsened criminal behaviour instead of curbing it. This consequently led to prisons such as Halden and Bastøy being designed. Their aim is to foster dignity, self-reflection, education and skills training.

Norway’s prison model produces tangible results:

• Recidivism rates hover at about 20 per cent within two years of release, compared with 50 per cent to 70 per cent in many other Western countries — including the United States. This alone shows that rehabilitation-centred policies can provide not only more humane conditions, but also safer societies in the long term.

One of the defining and often most criticised features of Norwegian prisons is their physical environment. In facilities such as Halden prison, cells are private rooms, resembling small studio apartments. They are complete with natural light, desks, a private bathroom and sometimes even a television. Bastoy Prison is famously located on an island, and offers inmates opportunities to live in cottages, farm the land, work in trades workshops and participate in community life.

To critics, these facilities appear indulgent or “soft”. But research shows that when inmates are treated with dignity, the results are personal accountability and readiness for reintegration. Instead of a system that creates or reinforces an adversarial relationship between inmate and authority, Norway’s cultivates one of respect and trust. Officers are trained as mentors and social workers as much as they are guards. They often eat meals with inmates, engage in conversations and work alongside them in various programmes.

Environments such as this nurture pro-social behaviours — helping inmates understand how to interact respectfully, solve problems collaboratively, and, perhaps most importantly, help inmates envision themselves as members of society again. For offenders who might otherwise have become hardened or bitter, this approach disrupts cycles of alienation and recidivism.

Norwegian prisons place a great importance on education and vocational training. Their inmates are encouraged, and sometimes required, to pursue studies — even degree programmes — or develop trades skills during their sentences. Whether it be through traditional classroom instruction, apprenticeships or work-release, inmates develop tools to help them navigate life after their release.

For example, an inmate at Bastoy may spend time tending to a farm, repairing machinery or working in the prison shop. Another at Halden may attend music classes, learn carpentry or study for a degree. These efforts ensure that upon re-entry, former prisoners are better equipped to find employment that leads to stability — these are key factors in reducing recidivism.

Education and work will also serve rehabilitative purposes by instilling self-discipline, responsibility and self-worth. Inmates begin to believe that they are capable of contributing positively, which is crucial for reshaping one’s identity; an identity that was once defined solely by criminal behaviour.

Norway invests heavily in psychological services and reintegration planning. And mental health support is a cornerstone of correctional practice — this acknowledges that many inmates enter the prison system with histories of trauma, addiction or untreated psychological conditions.

Counsellors, therapists and social workers are readily available to help inmates work through personal struggles, process guilt and grief, and prepare for life after incarceration. This is the antithesis of the support structure in our prisons. The reintegration process in Norway often begins months or even years before release, with structured plans for housing, employment and continued counselling. While the same can be said for the process in Bermuda, its effectiveness is in question.

The continuation of care that former inmates receive in Norway ensures that they are not simply released into the same environments and patterns that contributed to their crimes, but that they instead re-enter society with stronger support systems and a sense of stability.

The most common critique of Norway’s model is that it appears too lenient to deter crime effectively. I can sympathise with this kind of thinking. Because if prison life seems “comfortable”, how can it dissuade individuals from committing offences? This critique, however, often overlooks key points:

• The deprivation of liberty itself still remains a significant deterrent. Inmates in Norwegian prisons cannot come and go freely — and they must still comply with prison rules. Losing one’s freedom, employment, community ties and family contact carries a profound weight, regardless of the physical comfort of the prison environment.

• Norway emphasises deterrence through certainty and swiftness of justice rather than harshness. I believe that when citizens believe the system is fair, transparent and focused on reintegration, they are more inclined to comply with laws. As studies have consistently shown, increasing punishment severity has little effect on crime rates.

• Long-term deterrence is better served when individuals do not reoffend after release. A punitive system that produces hardened, unemployable or alienated ex-prisoners may satisfy short-term desires for retribution for some, but it undermines broader public safety. By reducing recidivism, the Norwegian system arguably creates stronger deterrence in the long run.

While a rehabilitation-centred model offers clear benefits, it is essential to acknowledge the perspectives of victims — especially in cases of murder, assault or sexual violence. For these victims and their families, the thought of an offender living in what appears to be a “comfortable” prison may evoke feelings of injustice, anger and even betrayal by the justice system.

But Norway has made attempts to address these concerns through restorative justice programmes and victim support services. Restorative justice, when chosen voluntarily, allows victims to engage in mediated dialogue with offenders. It affords them a space to voice their pain, seek accountability and, oftentimes, receive apologies or reparations. And while not suitable for every case, these practices may provide victims with closure and empowerment that more punitive models often fail to deliver.

Equally as important, Norway invests in victim support organisations that provide counselling, legal guidance and financial assistance. Healing for victims often requires attention equal to that given to offenders. These services play a critical role in the balancing of justice.

I admit that challenges will remain. There is no system that can fully heal the trauma caused by violent crime. There will be some victims who, understandably, believe that severe punishment is the only just justice — reconciling this with a rehabilitation-centred model is difficult. Norwegian officials often argue that justice is served not only by punishing the offender but by preventing future harm through rehabilitation. I acknowledge that this reasoning may not ease victims’ emotions, particularly in grievous cases.

I believe that the Norwegian system succeeds in many respects. Yet it also raises questions about how to balance the delivery of justice. How does a society prioritise rehabilitation while ensuring that victims feel heard and respected? How will deterrence be maintained when prisons emphasise normalcy rather than suffering? These are difficult questions to answer.

A possible path may lie in increased transparency into the treatment of offenders and victim-centred inclusion. Prison officials — and our Minister of Justice — could do more to communicate why rehabilitative approaches enhance public safety. They can also create avenues for victims to engage in the rehabilitation process in more meaningful ways — restorative justice. Stronger victim advocacy is key as well as, potentially, a more significant opportunity to influence sentencing outcomes.

In Bermuda, a hybrid approach would likely be most palatable. One that ensures that for the most heinous crimes, sentences reflect the gravity of harm caused, while still incorporating rehabilitative opportunities. Long sentences may satisfy the societal and victim desires for proportional punishment, yet within that time, inmates can still undergo transformative rehabilitation that is necessary for their eventual release.

The Norwegian prison system is a bold alternative to the punitive models that are common in much of the world. In emphasising rehabilitation through normalcy, dignity, education and psychological support, Norway has created conditions that reduce recidivism and, ultimately, protect society more effectively than retributive incarceration.

At the same time, it is crucial to remain sensitive to the emotions of victims. I acknowledge that the pain and grief of victims cannot be ignored in the pursuit of rehabilitative ideals. Justice has to encompass not only the transformation of offenders, but also the healing of those harmed.

Norway has shown that humane treatment and public safety are not mutually exclusive. Yet the system is not without its tensions. It, like all prison systems, should continually refine its practices to ensure that victims feel their suffering is acknowledged, that deterrence remains meaningful, and that offenders sincerely confront the gravity of their actions.

In the end, a balanced approach rooted in dignity, accountability and compassion offers a great hope for a safer and more just society. The Norwegian model is not perfect by any means, but it provides a powerful example — and contrast to our system — of how rehabilitation can coexist with deterrence and victim compassion, guiding us towards a more enlightened vision of justice.

• Behind The Walls is a resident of the Westgate Correctional Facility