Maine State Prison residents launch hunger strike over conditions they call solitary confinement

As long as it takes. 

That’s how long incarcerated people in a section of Maine State Prison say they are willing to continue a hunger strike they first launched Thursday morning to protest conditions they likened to solitary confinement. 

Two residents of the C-pod of the prison’s “close custody unit” — a higher-security part of the facility — told Maine Morning Star on Thursday that about 10 to 15 people within that group are participating in the strike. They said their primary grievances are only receiving 1-2 hours out of their cell a day and not getting a review of their placement in those conditions — as is specifically required when someone is put in the administrative control unit of the facility or in disciplinary segregation status.  

Residents in close custody within Maine State Prison are not part of the special management unit. That unit includes restrictive housing and the administrative control unit, where incarcerated people can be kept in their cell for anywhere below 22 hours a day if returning to the general population poses a safety risk. 

Despite that, residents say the C-pod is being used in a similar way as a special management unit without being called that. 

The hunger strike — which is not the first that has taken place at the facility in recent years — comes after the Maine Department of Corrections (DOC) replaced the warden of Maine State Prison in February and announced an investigation into claims of hazing, harassment, retaliation and other issues at the Warren correctional center. 

On Friday, DOC spokesperson Samuel Prawer disputed residents’ claims that their conditions are akin to solitary confinement. He added that the department is aware of the hunger strike at the prison but that it cannot share specifics about those involved because of confidentiality rules. 

‘It messes you up’

Nicholas Gladu, one of the members of the C-pod who is participating in the hunger strike, said spending so much time alone in a cell takes a severe psychological toll.

“If you’re locked in a cement cube with nothing and it’s just yourself, you go crazy, man,” he said. “I’ve seen literally people unravel before my eyes and the scary thing is how many guys I’m seeing get released into the state from this pod. It’s mind boggling, and it’s a guarantee to come right back.” 

“It messes you up,” he added. 

Josh Fluke, another resident of the pod, said he has mental health issues that have been exacerbated by the conditions. 

“When I’m locked in the cell every day for 22 hours a day, I start having conversations with myself, I start having violent tendencies,” he said. “It’s not progressive to my moving forward in life.” 

Fluke and Gladu both described the conditions they are experiencing as solitary confinement. 

The United Nations defines solitary confinement as a prisoner spending 22 hours or more a day without meaningful human contact. And the organization says that prolonged solitary confinement is when such circumstances persist for more than 15 days. Gladu said he has been in C-pod since mid-December while Fluke said he has been there for 2-3 weeks. 

Solitary confinement has been linked to a number of adverse outcomes, including an increased risk of premature death in the first year after release from prison, worsening mental health issues and more frequent instances of violence.  

However, Prawer from the DOC pushed back against the statements by those in the C-pod that their treatment is similar to solitary confinement. 

“Maine Department of Corrections does not have any housing that is akin to solitary confinement,” he said. 

“For residents at that custody level, MDOC makes out-of-cell recreation and social time available on a daily basis, and allows additional time for those attending medical appointments, or pursuing work or programming, such as education,” Prawer continued. “Residents in the Maine State Prison close custody unit also have access to visits, telephones, mail, and text messaging on tablets, so long as the tablets are not misused.” 

Prawer added that residents in close custody are subject to enhanced monitoring and have often engaged in “serious misconduct while incarcerated,” are an escape risk, or could be a danger to others based on their conviction.   

He said reviews of a DOC resident’s custody status are conducted in person if an inmate wishes and that those incarcerated can appeal changes to their status. The DOC sometimes automatically reviews a person’s custody level, including when they complete certain programming, and residents can also request a review, Prawer said. 

Legislative debate over solitary confinement

As the situation at Maine State Prison plays out, lawmakers themselves are grappling with the issue of solitary confinement.  

A bill currently being considered by the Legislature seeks to define the practice within Maine law. That measure, sponsored by Rep. Grayson Lookner (D-Portland), would define solitary confinement as keeping a person isolated from others in a correctional facility for 22 hours or more a day. It has yet to receive a vote from the full Legislature, but a previous attempt by Lookner to define the term failed in 2022. 

While the DOC has maintained it doesn’t use solitary confinement anymore, lawmakers have heard a significant amount of testimony from people who say they have been isolated for long amounts of time while incarcerated.  

At a legislative hearing in 2022 on Lookner’s earlier solitary confinement bill, DOC Commissioner Randall Liberty said some people can be held in their cell for 23 hours a day on a short-term basis if there is an emerging situation involving violence or some other safety risk. But he told members of the Legislature’s Criminal Justice and Public Safety Committee that those in the administrative control unit who are there on a longer-term basis get 4-7 hours out of their cell a day. 

Hunger strike a last resort

Ultimately, Fluke and Gladu said they just want Maine State Prison to follow what they understand to be the DOC’s policies around recreation time and review of placements in restrictive conditions. 

Both also said that because they have such little time out, they have struggled to participate in the rehabilitation and reentry programming available at the prison. 

“It really degrades a person,” Fluke said. “You start thinking that clearly you’re not worth the time and effort of being allowed to go to programming, you’re not worth being able to better your life.”

Gladu said the hunger strike is a last resort to get prison officials and the DOC to change course. He’s said he’s tried everything else, including sending a letter, dated March 3, to Liberty about the situation. 

“I’ve been writing letter and letter after letter. Grievance after grievance. And everything else has failed,” he said. 

“None of us like to do stuff like this,” Fluke added, referencing the hunger strike. “But we’re sometimes forced into a corner where we have to.” 

Jan Collins, assistant director of the Maine Prisoner Advocacy Coalition, said she has been in contact with members of Maine State Prison’s C-pod about the situation. She said this isn’t the first time she’s heard such stories, citing similar accounts from several people over the past few years. 

Collins said residents need to be able to retain hope while in prison. Circumstances like the ones described by Fluke and Gladu undermine that, she argued. 

 “When you’re in conditions like that with no idea of when they’re going to change, you lose hope,” she said.