Changes to the Imprisonment for Public Protection (IPP) scheme in England and Wales announced in November - that will free 1,800 offenders from indefinite prison sentences - didn't "go far enough" and for those still incarcerated, "it probably harms them even further, because it just reinforces the fact that they have no hope of getting out", a campaigner has said.

IPP was designed to protect the public from serious offenders whose crimes did not
merit a life sentence and were created by the Criminal Justice Act 2003, and used from April 2005. Offenders sentenced under IPP are handed a minimum jail term they must serve, and upon completion can apply to the Parole Board for release. If successful, they're put on supervised licence for 10 years, with any infringement returning them to prison where their release is again determined by the Parole Board.

Some IPP prisoners have served close to two decades behind bars for sentences of just a few years - for crimes as minor as stealing mobile phones. The UN says the legislation is "inhumane" and has been reflected in at least 86 suicides by prisoners since being introduced. It has also been branded the "single greatest stain on our justice system”.

IPP was abolished in 2012 - for offenders convicted on or after 3 December 2012, with the Government stating the system was “not defensible” - but the change did not apply retrospectively to people who were already serving the sentence.

According to a Ministry of Justice factsheet, IPPs were handed down at a rate of more than 800 a year over the seven-year period they were used, resulting in more than 6,500 offenders serving IPP sentences. Government figures, as of 30 September 2023, showed there were 1,269 offenders still serving an IPP sentence who had never been released on licence. Hundreds more, it is estimated, are back in prison having been recalled over licence breaches. Figures from December 2022, showed there were 1,394 unreleased IPP prisoners in custody, and 1,498 recalled IPP prisoners - a total of 2,892 prisoners. Those figures showed that all but 35 unreleased IPP prisoners had passed their tariff date.

Re-sentencing IPP offenders has been advocated by parliament’s Justice Select Committee, the Centre for Crime and Justice and IPP campaigners to rectify the situation, but was rejected by the Government.

Earlier this month the Byline Times Podcast investigated IPP and unpicked the long-ranging impacts it has had on people sentenced to it, and their families. Host Adrian Goldberg spoke to Ishuba Salmon who lost 17 years of his life to it; Emma McClure, who represented inmate Matthew Price who reached out to the Justice Secretary and members of the criminal justice community before taking his own life while on licence, writing that he was "stuck in a never-ending cycle of which suicide is quite possibly really the only way out" , and Donna Mooney from campaign group, UngrIPP, whose brother took his own life in jail in 2015. Listen to the podcast here.

"I never killed nobody. But I was on the wing with people who did kill people, and they went home before me"

Ishuba Salmon, former IPP inmate

Ishuba Salmon, 44, was sentenced under IPP to a minimum term of five years after being found in possession of a firearm while in a stolen car. He served 12 years and nine months before being released in September 2018: "I never killed nobody, but I was on the wing with people who did kill people, and they went home before me."

While still on his IPP licence, Salmon was arrested over an allegation of wounding with intent. He was cleared and was preparing to leave court after the judge said, "I was free to go," when he was taken downstairs by court security, and returned to prison. For another four years: "I was quite happy, justice had prevailed, and then we just made a mockery of our own British court system."

Salmon added: "I can't get back my daughter's 17 years that I've missed out of her life. I want her to look at her Dad and see a good role model and someone she's proud of. Not some guy sat down in jail for the rest of his life and wasting away."

Matthew Price, 48, was handed an IPP in 2010 for seriously wounding his friend, with a three-year minimum term. Unlike other inmates who have served more than ten years longer than their minimum tariff, Price was released in 2013 - but he didn't cope well with being on licence for the next decade and took his own life in June 2023.

A month before doing so, Price issued a desperate cry for help, writing to Justice Secretary Alex Chalk, several law firms and the Justice Select Committee, explaining that "asking for help will go against me, not asking for help will most likely kill me". He described IPP as a “death penalty by the back door”.

Price was struggling with his mental health and an earlier attempt on his life had led to further IPP supervision. He feared reaching out again for support would mean he'd never have his licence revoked.

“I’m stuck in a never-ending cycle of which suicide is quite possibly really the only way out"

Matthew Price, deceased IPP inmate

Emma McClure from SL5 Legal was the last person to speak to Price, having taken on his case shortly before his death, after seeing his letter. She told the Byline Times Podcast that when her late client's 10-year supervision mark approached, "the stress and the idea that he wasn't going to be successful" in having it revoked became too much for him. Then things got worse: he was denied legal aid and his case stalled due to "chronic delays" in the court system: "There's just issues and issues and issues and delays and delays, delays. And then unfortunately, it proved to be too much for Matthew and he did ultimately take his own life," McClure explained on the podcast.

Corner John Hobson later ruled that Price's mental health had been adversely affected by IPP and further changes were announced to the law by the Justice Secretary. The 10-year licence period is to be reduced to three, before the first review. And if the Parole Board decline and the IPP offender is still in the community without issue two years later, the licence will automatically terminate. The change is currently in the Prisoners Bill and is at the report stage at the House of Lords.

"Successive governments have recognised for well over a decade now that the IPP regime is a stain on the criminal justice system and needs to be dealt with. But no one's prepared to do anything at the moment."

Emma McClure, lawyer

McClure says the changes don't go far enough - that the three-year licence period is still too long, given the consequences of breaching it: "We're now almost 20 years down the line (since IPP was introduced) where they've been in custody all that time, and then you're letting them out, and the idea that that person is then going to be able to lead a completely spotless life for three years. And I'm not talking about committing offences. I'm talking about missing appointments. I'm talking about lapsing into substance use, I'm talking about having an argument with somebody, and that will lead you back into custody."

Part of the problem, the lawyer explained, was that the prison system was never given the added resources it needed to cope with an influx of IPP inmates which created a cycle of anguish. Offenders never got the rehabilitative support they needed - would "fly past" their minimum terms - become "resentful, frustrated... fall into despair", use drugs, become violent, and ultimately be "denied parole because of it".

In 2022, a Select Committee recommended that all IPP offenders be re-sentenced, "but no one's as yet been prepared to grasp that thorny issue", McClure said, adding: "Successive governments have recognised for well over a decade now that the IPP regime is a stain on the criminal justice system and needs to be dealt with. But no one's prepared to do anything."

The Ministry of Justice (MoJ) told the Byline Times Podcast that its "thoughts remain with the friends and family of Matthew Price" and reiterated that it wants to give "rehabilitated people the opportunity to properly move on with their lives, which is why we are changing the law to curtail licence periods". That change, the MOJ said, would see around 1,800 people have their IPP sentences ended immediately.

Donna Mooney's brother, Tommy Nicol, took his own life in prison in 2015, age 37, after getting knocked back by the Parole Board and thinking he was "never going to be released", and having been denied access to courses he needed to complete to lower his risk. He was jailed under IPP for stealing a car from a garage and getting into a fight.

"He (Tommy) referred to it as psychological torture. Often, he said it was a 99-year sentence... because you can apply to have the licence lifted, but that's often denied," Mooney, from IPP campaign group, UngrIPP told the Podcast.

"I could talk for years about how horrendous it is," she continued. "I've seen it firsthand with my brother, and I live it every day and know what he went through is horrific, that 1000s of people are being kept indefinitely in prison on the sentence that was abolished more than a decade ago."

Like McClure, Mooney was "happy" the Government has made changes to IPP, but said it "doesn't go far enough" to help those who have been most dramatically impacted: "The people who are being the most penalised by this sentence, those stuck in prison still many who have served more than 10 years, 15 to 17 years over their initial tariff. It won't affect them because they've never been released. It's not going to impact those people who've been recalled for no further offence."

"1000s of people are being kept indefinitely in prison on the sentence that was abolished more than a decade ago"

Donna Mooney, IPP campaigner

Mooney continued: "It doesn't do anything for those people stuck in the system. And in fact, it probably harms them even further because it just reinforces the fact that they have no hope of getting out. It's kind of perpetuated that pain for them.

"The key thing that we often say to people is that a more dangerous person didn't exist between 2005 and 2012. A policy did."

Mooney's family received undisclosed damages from the MoJ after beginning a civil claim in the high court over her brother's death, but she takes little comfort from the victory. It helped show people in charge "that my brother countered for something and that he wasn't just a number, and he wasn't this horrendously awful person that they tried to make him look during the inquest" - but it didn't stop other families from having to go through the same trauma. Despite the legislative changes, Mooney notes, "the sad thing is that people are still dying".

"More people are dying on the sentence in prison and in the community than ever before... the last two years I've seen the highest suicide rates in prison of people in my opinion ever."