Loading summary
John Prideaux
The economist.
Alexis de Tocqueville
More than a league wide and covered with sails, the great river runs north into a range of high blue mountains and disappears. Its banks are a scene of bustle and prosperity, delightful to observe. And overhead is an admirable sun whose rays, filtering through the humid atmosphere of the region, bathe everything they touch in a soft, transparent light.
John Prideaux
Alexis de Tocqueville wrote those words in a letter to his father. He was perched in a tree at the top of a hill overlooking the Hudson Valley. The French aristocrat was a few weeks into his trip around America. After spending time with high society in New York, Tocqueville took a steamboat up the Hudson River.
Alexis de Tocqueville
Our one aim since we've come here has been to comprehend the land we are exploring. We cannot accomplish that goal unless we disassemble society. And I dare say no man, whatever his social rank, is incapable of teaching us something.
John Prideaux
Tocqueville's next stop was what was then America's biggest prison, Sing Sing. When he visited in 1831, it was just a few years old. He had been commissioned to write a report on the American penal system for the French government. That was the official reason for his trip, a great excuse to get funding. For nine months studying a new democracy at Sing Sing, he wanted to see something called the New York system. It was a novel approach that aimed to reform prisoners, not just punish them. It combined work with solitary confinement. The aim was to give prisoners time to reflect on their crimes, but also through work, to give them purpose. At the time, it was considered progressive.
Alexis de Tocqueville
We are living here in the midst of 900 inmates who supervised by 22 guards, with no chains shackling them, no wall penning them in during the day, and no hope of saving money for a nest egg. Work from morning to night, like labourers on the job, in total silence. I remember seeing something of the sort among Trappist monks.
John Prideaux
Prisons in France then were essentially dungeons. Not much had changed since the medieval period. And Tocqueville had a personal connection. His parents were jailed during the French Revolution. They narrowly escaped the guillotine and his father's hair turned white, his early 20s, from the stress. Given what the French Revolution had done to his parents, it's all the more surprising that Tocqueville was so enthusiastic about the American one. And yet, despite his background, Tocqueville wanted to show the people of France that there was no going back. America was the future. Even its prisons offered an example to learn from. Nobody has seen America as a beacon of penal reform for a long time. Relative to the population Size. The country incarcerates six times more people than Canada. There are more Americans in prison than there are Americans in Hawaii, Maine or Alaska. And they can be violent places. Dozens of people are murdered every year while incarcerated. There are thousands of attacks on the guards. When I visited New York, state prisons were in turmoil.
Sean Peaker
Earlier this month, an investigation was launched into the death of an inmate at Marcy Correctional Facility. Today, the Attorney General releasing body cam footage of an incident leading up to that man's death.
John Prideaux
The system was reeling after guards killed an inmate on camera. The state government tabled a raft of measures, including more CCTV cameras and increased inspections. Then guards went on strike and many didn't return to their jobs. The National Guard had to be brought in to secure the prisons. Sing Sing was affected by the strike, too. New York's prisons have a reputation for violence. But like in Tocqueville's day, Sing Sing still stands out for its reform programs. It's sometimes referred to as the Columbia of prisons. University professors volunteer to come up and teach there. The train line from New York actually runs right through the place. It's a much smoother ride than Tocqueville had. He called the roads deplorable and carriages infernal. When I arrive on the train from New York City, it's a bright, crisp winter's day. The snow on the riverbanks and the edge of the Hudson is frozen solid. The cold air stings your nostrils. When Tocqueville was here, he was asking, how does a country built on the idea of liberty deprive people of their freedom? What happens to those who play the game of chance in America and lose? I'm going into Sing Sing with those questions in mind and one of my own. Can people inside help explain what's gone wrong with faith in American democracy? I'm John Prideaux from the Economist. This is my Tocqueville road trip, exploring democracy in America. At 250. Episode 2 Against All Obstacles.
Jean Frantz
Come on in.
John Prideaux
I'm not gonna try to say the name. I don't want to butcher it. The guard isn't the first person wary of mispronouncing my name. He's very welcoming, but I'm a little nervous. This is my first time inside a maximum security prison in America. Is it going to be like the Shawshank Redemption? These places can be terrifying. There are strict controls on what we can take inside. No phones for a start.
Sean Peaker
We're going to go through the hat.
John Prideaux
Just let me know what you have. That way we can go through a Place. Every piece of recording equipment has to be counted down to the number of batteries. Two wireless microphones, two mic covers. That done, we're led through corridors and heavy doors.
Sean Peaker
Watch your step on. The stairs are metal. Be careful. A little slippery.
John Prideaux
Our guide is Sean Peaker. He's taking us to meet some prisoners who are part of an education program run by volunteers at Sing Sing.
Sean Peaker
We're cutting through the bridge that goes over the train tracks. This is a portion of the cell block from 1825.
John Prideaux
I get a little thrill at that. Tocqueville would have seen these very walls. We're definitely getting a tour of the best bits of this prison, though. We're not going into the building where prisoners sleep. That may be because it's pretty grim there or because of concerns about security. Instead, Sean takes us to a building overlooking the place where Old Sparky once stood. That was the electric chair used to end hundreds of lives, including those of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, the most famous Soviet spies in America. This building is now a classroom. There's a green chalkboard on the wall. Black paint is peeling off the floorboards. The window frames are made of cast iron.
Jean Frantz
Hello. How you doing?
John Prideaux
The prisoners are escorted by a guard into the classroom. All of the men wear the same standard issue green trousers. Their top halves are their own to dress as they will, so long as they avoid certain colours. Black is a no no because it's good for escaping in. Sean and his colleagues shake everyone's hands and we introduce ourselves.
Sampson (Mr. Alexander)
Could you please tell us who you guys are so that the men can be a little relaxed?
John Prideaux
The deal when talking to prisoners is that you don't ask about their crimes and you don't actually call them prisoners or inmates. New York Democrats passed a law saying everyone, including the guards, should call them incarcerated individuals. Chairs are set out in a circle and everyone begins taking their seats. One of the guys stands out in his gold rimmed glasses and colorful scarf.
Sampson (Mr. Alexander)
Sampson, I'm sorry that you didn't get the memo that the camera wasn't coming, Mr. Alexander.
John Prideaux
Everyone's in a good mood. I still feel uneasy looking around. I don't know how many of these men have killed people. Judging by the length of their sentences, it's fair to assume most of them have. And so I wonder where to begin the conversation. How can this group of hardened criminals help me understand why so many Americans have lost faith in their country? And why so many other people in the west have too? When you were growing up, did you think that you lived in a country where There was a lot of opportunity for you.
Unnamed Prisoner 1
I realized young that choices make a lot of difference in what you're doing throughout life. My mom never graduated high school, My dad graduated high school. But they had kids, four kids by the time my mom was 22. We didn't have a lot of the things that other kids have. You know, other kids would have Doritos, we'd have that white path mark, no frills bag.
John Prideaux
The men passed the microphone around the circle. Most of them are black. Many suffered terrible losses. Almost all of them had tough childhoods.
Sampson (Mr. Alexander)
My parents died before I was 12. I used to be embarrassed to tell people that too, because they both died from AIDS related illnesses due to their intravenous drug use.
Jean Frantz
Right.
Sampson (Mr. Alexander)
But from then I was on my own.
Unnamed Prisoner 2
I never felt that when I was 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, my environment or my circumstances or my skin color limited me in any way. But that was kind of stripped of me when I was like 10, 11, and my friend got killed. And I know he was. He did everything right, just like I was doing everything right. And then that's what kind of opened my eyes, that it is kind of limited when you from this neighborhood.
Unnamed Prisoner 3
So my opportunities came at a young age, you know, from going to the store for people for a dollar to working for them, you know, like transport and stuff and stuff like that or whatever. So I kind of got introduced to a different opportunity, which was drugs and then that type of money. So my American dream was like an American dream of like a drug dealer.
John Prideaux
This kind of story is not unexpected from people who've wound up here. The American dream was distant. Drugs and crime seemed like a shortcut. But then someone says something that gives me pause.
Sampson (Mr. Alexander)
I made choices. We made choices, unfortunately, that let us hear right, but it's also. We made choices to have us sit in this room with y' all now. So we learn it and that's America.
John Prideaux
None of us have a reliable way to distinguish the things we do from the things that are done to us. To distinguish between what happens because of good or bad luck and what happens because of our talent or effort. Usually the answer is a mix of the two in unquantifiable proportions. Compared with Europeans, Americans are much less likely to believe in luck. Even though American society is more unequal than Europe is, Americans are much more likely to say that people get what they deserve. This helps to explain lots of things about America. Tocqueville noticed the same thing. He reckoned Europeans were more fatalistic because they were descended from a feudal society. Where everyone had their place, whereas Americans were not. The tendency to downplay luck, whether it's good or bad, may also explain why American society is more punitive. If you don't believe in luck, then wrongdoing is a choice and should be punished accordingly. As the men talk, the choices they made come up a lot. And a pattern starts to emerge. None of them shirk responsibility for what they've done. Someone at the prison association told me that you'll find more accountability in this place than you will on Wall Street. The group I'm talking to are self selecting. No one's forcing them to be part of the education programs. And they've chosen to come here today because they've got something to say about democracy in America. To a foreign journalist, still, they're smart, eloquent, they have presence. They all sit up straight and look you in the eye as they talk. I'm slightly ashamed to say I didn't anticipate this.
Jean Frantz
My family migrated from Haiti a year before I was born, right? So when I was raised here, I didn't realize how good we had it.
John Prideaux
The microphone continues round the circle. And when it gets to a tall guy in a light brown sweatshirt, he starts telling the story of his life.
Jean Frantz
Mind you, we was living in Flatbush. We wasn't living, you know what I'm saying? Like it was. I think they call that black bottom poverty back then. Like it was. It was bad, but I didn't know it was bad. Cause it seemed everybody was on the same economic level. So it seemed all right.
John Prideaux
This is Jean France. He has a shaved head and walks with a loping gait like a big man who doesn't want you to notice how big he is.
Jean Frantz
Every summer, my family's always scrape up money to send me and my cousin to Haiti to spend the summer with my grandparents. So every time we went to Haiti, I realized how bad people really had it, you know what I mean? So I was able to see that we was doing good. As far as I was concerned, we was doing great. And everybody in Haiti would looked at us like we was the Drummonds. Drummonds, yeah. They was looking at us like Will. Yeah, Will and Arnold. Like they thought we was rich. You know what I mean? Like, I remember every summer we left, we would have to leave everybody all our clothes, right? Whatever sneakers we was wearing, whatever clothes we had, we had to leave that to all the kids in the neighborhood. Because they didn't have what we had. When I get back to America, a lot of my friends were materialistic. Everybody had what, whatever the latest fashion trends was at the time. My family wasn't on that type of time. They was always on budget time because they know what it's like not to have, you know what I mean? So I looked like an immigrant because the way my parents dressed me and that was uncool, okay? That actually made me ashamed of my heritage. Because I hate the fact that people just tell by my clothing, wear them first, you know what I mean? You can't be American, you know what I mean? And that made me feel awake.
John Prideaux
But still, John Franz didn't feel like he was poor. That some people were haves and some were have nots. A trip to Manhattan with his mum when he was 8 years old changed that.
Jean Frantz
And I didn't really realize what have and have nots really was until one time we went to Macy's. I'm never gonna forget this. And we was walking past the storefront that had a video camera facing the street. And it had a TV screen, TV monitor where you could see yourself as you walk by, right? And I remember stopping my mother when I seen myself on the TV screen. Like I felt like, oh, I'm on tv. And I remember telling my mom, let's get that. And she shut it down immediately. She says, we can't afford that, and took my hand and we moved away. And I remember thinking like, damn, we can't, we can't. Like we just not built for this kind of stuff. Like normally they put this stuff out here for certain people. We're not that people. My mother worked constantly. Like she had multiple jobs. I couldn't even tell you what kind where she worked at when we were kids because she was always working. I stayed most of the time with aunts and uncles. And I'm like, life shouldn't be so rough. Like, we shouldn't be struggling like this. Like, I seen what Haiti look like. So why we gotta work? Why we gotta work this hard? And I'm not even getting the things I want, you know what I mean? I hate the fact that I'm wearing flea market sneakers and stuff like that. Like that was pissing me off. So I didn't really understand what this American dream was. I just wasn't aware of these opportunities. I wasn't aware of options. Cause I didn't know what they were, right? So it's like, so now that you know what these things are, it makes you like, damn, like first, you know, like my man said, like, you feel like I wasted so much time growing up as a kid. Because I was going left when I could have went right.
John Prideaux
Like all the prisoners in this room. Jean Frantz is a student. He's taking a psychology degree through a nonprofit called Hudson Link Pharma for Higher Education.
Jean Frantz
Because I pursue education as an adult, I was able to learn things about myself that I didn't know before. Like when I told you the story about walking in front of Macy's and wanting to purchase the video camera and my mother said we couldn't attain was through my pursuit of a behavioral science degree that I learned that had my mother was able to identify that. Okay, we can't afford this. What could we do to get that? The juices turning inside my mind to figure out a way. Okay, it's not impossible. It is possible. I just got to figure out a way for herself for this, right? So. But she didn't know how to do that because she didn't know that we had options.
John Prideaux
With a lot of time alone in a cell to think, coupled with a drive for self improvement, Jean Frantz has found that maybe Tocqueville's equality of conditions is alive and well after all.
Jean Frantz
Okay, you know the saying, when you know better, you do better. One of my favorite quotes was by fred Rogers from Mr. Rogers neighborhood.
John Prideaux
Fred Rogers was like Tocqueville, but for kids tv. He was an avuncular figure full of teachable stories about the importance of social bonds.
Jean Frantz
He said, there's no one you couldn't love once you heard they story, Right? And that always resonated with me because now when I look at people, I can empathize with them. Now I don't care how bad a person may appear, how tough a person may look. Dude may be a bully, he may be, whatever the case may be, you don't know his story. You don't know how he became what he is right now, right? And I'm saying that because on a personal level, same thing with me, you know what I mean? Like, I'm not saying this the way I want to say it. Say it the way you feel it. Like, okay, you know how you come up one way, right? Like when you're mother's child, right? You know how she sees you when you coming up, right? And sometimes you might even see yourself like that as you coming up. But somewhere along that line, you stop seeing yourself like that. You want to start mimicking things that you think is acceptable, the things that you want to be like. Because in your mind, in whatever twisted, warped sense of reality told you that this is what's cool. So you become something that you're not. Then you start living like that for
Sean Peaker
years
Jean Frantz
until you have an epiphany and you realize, this is not who I am. It was funny how, you know, they call it evolution, but it's like you start off with evolution and then somehow you devolve, and then you had to evolve again. You know what I mean?
John Prideaux
Jean France says his education inside has not just provided opportunities for him, but also the people close to him.
Jean Frantz
I'm able to repair fractured relationships in my own family because of the knowledge I have of psychology, which is amazing to me. I can't believe I'm actually able to help people in my family who was extremely stubborn see themselves through my eyes. You know what I mean?
John Prideaux
He's able to see his childhood differently now. He didn't have the support he needed growing up.
Jean Frantz
Not because my family didn't care, only because they were just ignorant today, right? So. But now, because of this education, now because I'm so aware of so many things, it's like, is that I could fake see the American Dream. It's really not as hard as people make this sound.
John Prideaux
I'd expected to find sitting in a room with a group of criminals and talking about the American Dream to be uncomfortable. After all, what do they have to dream about? Instead, it's been oddly moving. Like going to church when you need to or seeing the stars on a clear night. These men, who freely admit they occupy the lowest rung in society, are the most optimistic group of Americans I've encountered for a long time. They embody something Tocqueville noticed about America's lively faith in the perfectibility of man. He wrote that Americans are of the opinion that nothing is or ought to be permanent. What appears to them to be good today may be superseded by something better tomorrow. How is it that men in prison are the ones who can best explain what's special about America? Maybe our guide in Sing Sing can help. Enlighten me.
Sean Peaker
I shot and killed my friend's dad when I was in the ninth grade.
John Prideaux
Sean Pica was convicted of manslaughter when he was 16 years old. He's now in his 50s. He's short, squat, and the skin by his eyes crinkles when he smiles, which he does a lot. He's been through the same program as some of the guys I met in Sing Sing. And now he's out the other side. His story starts like the others.
Sean Peaker
Mom and dad were New York City cops, very worker bee community. And I was just kind of like flying under the radar because I wasn't doing well academically and I didn't play sports like my brothers. I wasn't a part of a lot of things.
John Prideaux
As a teenager, she Sean didn't see much of a future for himself. That's why he almost shrugs his shoulders at what happened next.
Sean Peaker
When I got arrested at 16 and sentenced to 24 years in prison, it didn't seem like that big a deal, which is so sad to say out loud. Going to prison instead of doing something amazing outside when you're not doing anything outside. It was a weird, like, anticlimactic, well, I'll be here for the next two decades.
John Prideaux
Sean doesn't want to talk about the details of his crime, but he wells up when recalling the impact it had on his family. Crying easily is perhaps not something you expect from a former convict, but it's something he's known for.
Sean Peaker
They call him Shaun moments, and it's all right as long as they call it a Sean moment.
John Prideaux
Sha moments are one result of a very American story. Sean entered prison before he had finished high school. Life inside didn't get off to a great start.
Sean Peaker
I was in and out of solitary confinement a bunch, and on my last trip, you get out of the box, you end up in the yard in this notoriously shitty disciplinary jail. I'm just walking the yard. There's no part of what I'm thinking about except for I got decades to do here. Potentially. The start of this prison sentence has not gone well.
John Prideaux
The days tick by. Sean walks the yard.
Sean Peaker
Everyone is just walking in a big circle. And when somebody cuts that circle and goes across, it's because something's about to go down. Everything stops. Everyone's waiting to see what you're about to do. And Big Al is heading my way. And literally, Big Al is the biggest guy in the prison. And in my mind, I'm like, is he coming my way? You know, like, blend in, you know, which doesn't really work. So he comes up to me, he says, are you Sean? And, you know, there's this moment of, like, do I just lie and just, like, get out of. No, I never heard of Sean, you know, And I said, yes. He said, I don't know if you heard, but we have this youth program here, and the teachers and the students come in and they'll spend the day with us. And the problem is that everyone on the crew is my age, which means we could be their parents. You're actually younger than a senior in high school. Like, I think it would be kind of crazy. If you were actually coming in with us and you're younger than them, maybe a little bit of an eye opening experience, it seemed a little crazy that I would worry about going to school. I was sentenced to more time than I was on earth. In all honesty, envisioning surviving till the end of the week seemed like a lot, let alone for the next two decades. And I remember telling Al like, it was yesterday. Yeah, with all due respect, I can't even help myself.
John Prideaux
But this was a prison yard full of big men. You don't say no to the one called Big Al.
Sean Peaker
Al says, oh, no, no, I'm not asking. It's Monday at 6. We'll see you there. Oh, oh, oh, God. Great. Monday, I'll see you there.
John Prideaux
Al became one of several mentors to Sean while he was inside.
Sean Peaker
Almost immediately, some of the older guys, the 26 year olds, you know, came to my cell and they said, hey, we signed you up for high school. And I remember, like, it was yesterday being like, if there's any silver lining to going to prison for two decades is that I didn't have to fail high school because I. I escaped that failure by coming to prison.
John Prideaux
Shawn says he had struggled academically all his life. He thought he'd got out of having to pass exams.
Sean Peaker
So the irony of having these three guys in the cell block say that we signed you up for high school and we will help you. I never heard that part of the equation before. As much trouble or as much struggling as I had academically, people would tell me what I'm not doing right. But nobody ever said, I'll sit with you and do it with you.
John Prideaux
For the first time, Sean was getting support even if he didn't want it.
Sean Peaker
I argued that, you know, this is a big waste of time. But these older guys lived in better parts of the prison. They had key jobs like the warden's runner or the laundry or the kitchen. And they said, if you want to eat with us and hang out with us and live with us, you got to get your high school diploma.
John Prideaux
It was worth it.
Sean Peaker
I'm not going to say how many times I took that high school test, but when I did finally pass, the prison did an incredible job of caps and gowns. And the other prisoners were in the audience cheering and it was a cake. And they made it a big deal.
John Prideaux
Shaun credits his mentors with his success.
Sean Peaker
There should have been 14 people up on the stage with me because every day after their mandatory prison jobs, they were out there with their red pens fixing my work and going over algebra and just these guys were relentless that I was going to get my high school diploma.
John Prideaux
When I think of American maximum security prisons, I think of violence, boredom and terrible food. I do not think of people with red pens correcting each other's algebra homework. But Big Al and his friends and had changed the course of Shawn's life.
Sean Peaker
And I remember on the day of the graduation, as the facility staff were getting me into my cap and gown, I said, oh, well, now I can work in the kitchen. And they said, well, you don't need your high school diploma to work in the kitchen. Oh my God, I was so fucking mad. They had completely lied to me. But it worked. And when I finished and I got that diploma, it was the first thing I'd completed in my life.
John Prideaux
Sean was moved between nine different maximum security prisons, but he carried on studying throughout. He got a bachelor's degree and a master's and he had to do it all on a typewriter. He was released after serving 17 and a half years.
Sean Peaker
I had more time in prison than out. The world of technology had completely changed. I'd never seen a cell phone before, except for on tv, but I did have a master's degree.
John Prideaux
Shaun's education didn't stop there. He enrolled on another master's degree straight away. Then Hudson Link for Higher Education recruited him. It was a new organisation bringing universities and prisons together.
Sean Peaker
So the prisons get this chance to have these amazing programs that they don't pay for. The students have the chance to get this amazing college opportunity that they don't pay for and we'll be in the middle to manage it and raise the money for seemed really ambitious, but it was so many folks in the academic world and in this community that were willing to support it.
John Prideaux
Ten years later, he became the director.
Sean Peaker
There are avenues that are being opened up, doors being created. Forget about being open. They're being created for formerly incarcerated men and women to change the world.
John Prideaux
Hudson Lake also supports men who've recently been released. It provides clothes, a place to stay and even jobs. They have houses refitted by ex prisoners where other ex prisoners can stay as a toehold on the American dream.
Sean Peaker
I feel like we're a college program that has snuck in all of these other avenues and housing and construction and trucks and after care and the clothing boutique. It's all in this vehicle that we call college, when college has almost become the smallest thing that we do now, but it's the vehicle that we sneak it in with.
John Prideaux
In many countries, this work might be done by the government but not in America. Non profits and volunteers provide the service. This was something which fascinated Tocqueville, the role played by voluntary associations in the young democracy. In an aristocratic society, when the people at the top wanted to get something done, they just gave the order. In a democratic society, since people are equal, they need to band together to accomplish anything. Voluntary associations have other virtues too. They're a buffer against an overmighty state. And groups of citizens organised around solving a problem serve as schools of democracy. Today, that still holds. Shaun runs an association that Tocqueville would recognise. And that's something else that makes America stand out. Because in many countries, someone with Sean's past would. Would not be in charge of the government agency tasked with prisoner education and rehabilitation.
Sean Peaker
That is an unusual twist in this story that, yeah, I fucked up. I went to prison at 16, I'm gonna be here for two decades, but I'm gonna be friends with the Commissioner of Corrections. That's a little unusual, but it's because
John Prideaux
Sean and his colleagues are who they are that it works.
Sean Peaker
Part of the way we're able to do that is, is that we're also the only agency in the country that's run and staffed by formerly incarcerated folks. So the same people that sat in those seats inside, they're coordinating the program outside.
John Prideaux
Across the country, 28% of prisoners reoffend on their release. For Hudson Link, the figure is 2%. When Tocqueville visited, he was frustrated by a lack of data. He couldn't judge whether the reform system worked without knowing the reoffending rate. Today it seems pretty clear that it can. And yet the provision of education in prisons is patchy in New York and non existent in some states.
Sean Peaker
I just got back from a prison in Texas and there's just nothing there. There's just nothing there. So thousands of people just walking around all day
John Prideaux
and Sing Sing could be like that without Hudson Link.
Sean Peaker
They also don't have a budget for this. They don't have a. Like, even if they want to do college, they couldn't. You know, we're raising millions of dollars a year with no state or federal help.
John Prideaux
In the time I've been reporting on America, I must have interviewed well over a thousand Americans. Many of them have been important, successful or powerful. But I don't think I've talked to anyone more impressive than Sean.
Sean Peaker
And all of a sudden I'm now in charge of a college program in five prisons for men and women, where I can say to a young guy, just getting to the prison, you don't gotta do it alone.
John Prideaux
He's exactly the kind of American Tocqueville admired.
Alexis de Tocqueville
A particular person conceives the thought of some undertaking. Should this undertaking have a direct relation to the well being of society? The idea of addressing himself to the public authority to obtain its concurrence does not occur to him. He makes known his plan, offers to execute it, calls individual forces to the assistance of his and struggles hand to hand against all obstacles.
John Prideaux
Tocqueville spent weeks in upstate New York. What he found there was a society that seemed to govern itself. Enterprising people forming voluntary associations and solving problems they see with whatever means they have. Just like Sean, Tocqueville thought that Americans did this better than Europeans. And I think that's still true. The flip side of wealth inequality in America is a lot of charitable giving, which the tax code encourages. Americans give away $600 billion a year. That's about the same as the federal government spends on Medicaid. Hudson Link, like thousands of similar organizations, rather relies on those donations. Even within the prison, this urge to create voluntary associations, those little schools of democracy exists. It's inspiring. Once I'm back outside the prison gates, batteries counted again. I break my unspoken agreement with Sean. I can't resist googling what sent the men I spoke to up the river to Sing Sing. My instinct was right. Everyone I look up has killed someone. A couple of the stories are so horrifying they made tabloid. How can it be that I feel so inspired by these men? More than anyone else I've met on this trip, they seem to understand what Tocqueville thought was so special about America. You strip someone back, take everything away, including their freedom. Is that when clarity of thought begins? This might be part of the answer. The other part came to me as I reflected back on the intensity of the experience. These men were impressive in the literal sense of the word. They gave me their complete attention and spoke from the heart. I don't want to get carried away here. I know these are the men who have worked hardest to turn themselves around inside. I wasn't allowed to spend time with any others, but I'm convinced there was more to it than that. They've had their connection to the world taken away. They've been isolated from the past decade plus of political and technological upheaval in America. Some of them have never held a smartphone. The America these men left when they were locked up was much less polarized too. The last time a majority of Americans still believed the country was on the right track was 2004. This prison is like a portal back to another version of America, which leaves me with more questions than ever about the state of democracy here in 2026. After leaving Sing Sing, Tocqueville and his companion Beaumont carried on up the Hudson. They took a steamboat to Albany, the state capital. They were there on the 4th of July. New York's governor invited them to join the official parade. Veterans of George Washington's army rode in carriages ahead of them. It ended at a church where a young man read out the Declaration of Independence.
Alexis de Tocqueville
It was a truly impressive spectacle. People sat plunged in silence until they heard the eloquent words of Congress recounting England's injustices and tyranny. At that, a murmur of indignation and anger ran through the audience. When Congress pled the righteousness of its cause and expressed a noble resolve to free America or die fighting, it seemed that an electrical current was making hearts vibration.
John Prideaux
This was where Tocqueville first bore witness to Americans attachment to their democracy as a kind of faith. It was a belief in his words deeply felt. Is that faith still there? After talking to the moneyed elite in New York and prisoners at Sing Sing, I needed to find someone in middle America, someone who is experiencing American democracy in its most quintessential form. And Tocqueville can guide me there. Leaving the Hudson Valley, he and Beaumont turned west towards Buffalo, the gateway to the Great Lakes.
Alexis de Tocqueville
A vessel was living on a two day voyage across Lake Erie to Detroit. We could hardly miss a chance to see one of the frontier provinces separating the United States from the vast wilderness beyond.
John Prideaux
At the frontier, that most American place, Tocqueville wanted to see the democratic experiment playing out away from social hierarchy and tradition. He would see that this is a land of opportunity for anyone with the drive to find it. This part of the journey is a little bit trickier to replicate. There's not exactly a vast wilderness north of Detroit, so I'm following him to a modern frontier still in Michigan. But it's not a physical frontier, it's a technological one. You look at the site, you look at the scale of it, and you can't help but feel a sense of awe at what we're trying to accomplish. In the rest of this series, I'll see the front line of the battle for freedom of expression in Boston.
Sean Peaker
I can think of multiple occasions, even over the past few weeks, where I've been having a conversation with somebody and they're constantly turning their head over their shoulder, lowering their voice.
John Prideaux
I'll follow Tocqueville to the Ohio river and find a side of America he would have hated.
Sean Peaker
Well, the Constitution's been thrown in a dumpster fire. It's not even fault.
John Prideaux
And on to the center of power, where I'll explore what the future of American democracy looks like.
Sean Peaker
I've been blessed to have a very unique experience where not only do I have a relationship directly with the President, I have a relationship directly with every individual kid and their spouses.
John Prideaux
The rest of the series will come out through June. To continue listening, you'll need to be a subscriber. Search Economist Podcasts plus for our Best Offer. Tocqueville Road Trip was made by Imogen Savotka, John Shields, Pete Norton, Claire Reid and me, with additional editing by Rosie Blore and Sam Colbert. Weidonglin is our sound designer, Darren Ng composed the music and Nico Rofast voiced the extracts from Tocqueville. I'm John Prideaux. This is the Economist.
UPS Store Announcer
This Father's Day, when you ship UPS Air at the UPS Store, your items arrive on time with your money back guaranteed at no extra cost. It's like the father of all shipping services. It shows up to the airport way too early just to play it safe. It's overprotective about all the things that truly matter. And it's always prompt, especially to be with family, making your first, first choice. To celebrate your dad, Ship UPS Air with our money back guarantee exclusively at the UPS store US retail locations. Visit the upstore.com airshipping for full details. Terms and conditions apply.
In this episode of "Economist Podcasts," host John Prideaux continues his "Tocqueville Road Trip," exploring the evolution and current state of American democracy at its 250th anniversary. The episode centers on a visit to Sing Sing prison in New York, reflecting on both historical and modern concepts of punishment, opportunity, and reform. Through conversations with incarcerated individuals and Sean Pica, a former inmate turned reform leader, Prideaux investigates how American ideals of self-improvement, accountability, and voluntary association persist—even in a system defined by severe limitations. The narrative draws striking parallels with Alexis de Tocqueville’s own 1831 visit to Sing Sing, probing American optimism, the myth of meritocracy, and what democracy in the US means for those most marginalized.
On American accountability and luck:
On empathy and storytelling:
On transformation through education:
On voluntarism and reinvention:
On voluntary associations as 'schools of democracy':
On the influence of the incarcerated:
Tocqueville on initiative:
The episode combines journalistic observation with personal testimony, echoing Tocqueville’s outsider perspective and classic descriptions. Prideaux remains thoughtful, at times surprised and moved. The men inside Sing Sing are candid, self-critical, and, against stereotype, remarkably hopeful about themselves and the future.
"Against All Obstacles" uses the vantage point of Sing Sing—and the people society has most failed—to probe the tensions and ideals underlying American democracy. Through stories of adversity, choice, and transformation, both past and current, the episode asks probing questions about accountability, collective action, and faith in progress. Sing Sing’s education programs and the optimism of its incarcerated participants offer a paradoxical—yet distinctly American—hope: that even among those with the least, the drive to better oneself and society can survive, and sometimes, even thrive.