THE Prison Service in England and Wales is in crisis. Riots and violence have been covered extensively on TV. There are also increasing numbers of suicides that receive little mention but are symptomatic of an organisation in turmoil. It’s been a long time coming. As Scottish justice secretary, regardless of the challenges I faced, I could console myself that I least I wasn’t dealing with the situation down south.

North of the Border, though, the situation isn’t easy. Prison numbers remain too high. Challenged and challenging people can do daft and dangerous things and there’s the risk of copycat riots. So the Scottish Prison Service must be vigilant, though it is in a far better position than its southern counterpart.

There, the primary issue of rising prison numbers has been exacerbated by so-called reforms from Chris Grayling when he was justice secretary. The impact of privatisation has been made worse by public sector staff cuts. Underlying factors such as race and religion that are far less prevalent in Scotland make for a lethal cocktail. Gang violence and drug taking are in danger of overwhelming a service that’s understaffed, and in which morale is at the point of collapse.

The strategy to tackle it, by incumbent Liz Truss, is to offer higher pay for staff in the south of England. That’s despite the fact that the problem is nationwide, as disturbances in the north and midlands have shown. The issue is deeper rooted than that and the offer will simply add to existing tensions in a troubled service.

This doesn’t mean higher pay isn’t deserved. It is, on both sides of the Border. I hold the prison service in the highest regard. It rarely receives the plaudits other public services do and it is hugely misunderstood. Working with offenders is more shunned than appreciated. I was stunned to discover how much lower the pay was for the Governor of Barlinnie Prison than for the headteacher of a high school or, indeed, a reasonably ranking senior police officer. This is despite the risks and challenges the job entails.

Rank-and-file prison officers are even more poorly paid and face having to work until the age of 67 or 68 for their pension. This is ludicrous, given the nature of the job. They don’t need a degree, necessary to be a prison officer in Norway, and are in service in weeks, or a few months if they are on the landings. But it’s a hard and challenging job.

The image often conjured up is of a swaggering US prison guard with a big stick practising randomised brutality. The reality is one of great humanity as officers deal with deeply troubled souls, often with mental health issues. Vigilance is needed, plus the ability to address severe violence that can be perpetrated by some of those incarcerated.

Prison staff are often expected to do the job of a community psychiatric nurse but without the training, and in very trying circumstances. Privatisation has often transformed prison staff into correctional officers, but with a loss of pensions and other employment rights as a perverse compensation for the grandiose title.

It’s no wonder many of the worst outbreaks of violence have been in private prisons, leading to a race to the bottom in officer numbers and morale. More money is welcome but the solution isn’t in increasing prison officer pay but reducing prisoner numbers. Too many low level and non-violent offenders are in for short sentences, hampering the service in concentrating on serious and violent prisoners.

I doubt Ms Truss will listen and I fear the situation will worsen. The Scottish Government consulted more than a year ago on increasing the presumption against imprisonment from three months to a year. Resources are needed for community disposals, so proceeding incrementally may be needed. But it must be done.