The task of punishment

Speaking of "free from hate" when referring to those incarcerated means going beyond the instinctive idea of ​​punishment as simple retribution. It means questioning the meaning of justice and the role prison should have in a society that seeks not merely to repress evil, but truly to reduce it. Detention, in fact, cannot be merely a suspension of personal freedom: it must be, above all, a time of transformation. Many violent acts are rooted in a soil of anger, frustration, humiliation, and exclusion. Hate often arises from deep wounds, from stories of marginalization and unresolved pain. If prison merely isolates individuals, without offering them the tools to understand and address what led them to crime, that feeling will not disappear. On the contrary, it risks becoming entrenched, becoming more dangerous. A punishment that fails to rehabilitate is a failed punishment. A state that simply punishes, without providing support, risks returning to society individuals who are even angrier, more closed, and more distant. Re-education, on the other hand, means recognizing that each person is more than the crime they have committed. It means creating opportunities for study, work, listening, and discussion, capable of restoring dignity and responsibility. And where this happens, the answer is clear: more work, more study, and more acceptance equal almost zero recidivism.

Freeing oneself from hatred is a difficult process, especially for those who have long lived through violence, whether suffered or perpetrated. But this is precisely the highest task of punishment: helping the incarcerated person to look within themselves, to acknowledge their own guilt without being destroyed by it, to understand the pain they have caused others and themselves. Only in this way can error become awareness, and guilt transform into the possibility of change. The restorative justice program initiated by Father Francesco Occhetta is a concrete and successful example. Prison can and must become a place of transition, not of abandonment, where hatred is acknowledged, confronted, and gradually defused. Only then does punishment cease to be vengeance and become true justice: a justice that doesn't erase the past, but opens a path to a new freedom, the most difficult and necessary, freedom from hatred. The inmates themselves testify to this; one of them stated during a writing workshop: "When I came here, I was full of anger. I thought the world owed me something. Only later did I realize I was destroying myself before anyone else."

Chiara Genisio
NP February 2026