U.S. policy leadership in the world-wide suppressing of prisoners’ communication reflected more vigorous democratic deliberation and greater political concern about communication in the U.S. than elsewhere in the world in the early nineteenth century. Crime and punishment always have been political issues capable of garnering widespread attention. The circumstances leading up to the American Revolution produced in the U.S. a vigorous, independent, commercially driven press and persons accustomed to rough competition for popular attention and influence. The new U.S. national government encouraged open, antagonistic discussion of government policy (free speech) and of God’s will (religious freedom). It invested heavily in a geographically comprehensive national postal system, and provided favorable rates and regulations for disseminating newspapers. This democratic culture gave popular communications greater importance in the U.S. than elsewhere in the world in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries.^ Not surprisingly, vigorous U.S. competition in discussing penal policy centered on prisoners’ communication.

If one understands the U.S. Constitution and U.S. political culture to endorse government open to participation “by all the citizens, without exception,” U.S. policy leadership in suppressing prisoners’ communication might seem surprising. But influential texts, established investments in interpreting them, and class interests produced, as if by an invisible tongue, a nearly unified public voice among persons with unquestionable respect for the U.S. constitution and deep appreciation for U.S. political values. That voice urged suppressing prisoners’ communication. That voice did not distinguish between communication among prisoners and communication between prisoners and their family and friends. That grotesque result indicates that free communication can produce profoundly unjust results.