ABSTRACT
THE essence of penal theory since the nineteenth century, which dispensed first with the widespread use of the gallows and then later with transportation, lies in the belief that by creating a highly specific penal environment men may be prevented from returning to crime. Theories about the precise character of this environment have varied, and it would be true to say that Pentonville is in some ways like an archaeological site, in that the remains of past theories are layered one upon another. But 'subsidence' and 'erosion' have created an uneven pattern. Relics of repression—the architectural structure— exist alongside recent innovations such as association, access to newspapers and television. The overall atmosphere suggests not a coherent penal design, but rather an amalgam of entrenched tradition, minor innovation and shifting compromise.
