Victorian Premier Ben Carroll said this week that if Labor wins the November state election, it will pilot a program that would see supervised, minimum-security incarcerated people working on roadside maintenance.
They would be paid to undertake tasks such as collecting rubbish, mowing lawns, weeding and cleaning graffiti, which the premier says would free up skilled maintenance crews to fix potholes.
People living in low-security facilities in Victoria already do day release programs to help with gardening, weeding and rubbish collection.
But how common is it for people in Australian prisons to work – and where’s the line between meaningful work experience and exploitation?
What kinds of work do incarcerated people do?
In 2024-25, 80% of eligible people in prison were employed.
But there are many reasons someone may be ineligible to work, including full-time education, training, illness, and short-term imprisonment.
Some states and territories also have a policy of not providing work. This means many incarcerated people are not involved in work programs in or outside of prison.
Corrective Services Industries is a work and education program within Corrective Services NSW that manages prison-based employment in that state.
It employs more than 5,000 people in custody (out of a population of about 13,000).
Through this program, incarcerated people deliver essential services across NSW prisons in industries such as dairy, laundry and building maintenance. They also produce commercial services, including making flags.
In Victoria, people in prison produce number plates, while those in South Australia produce timber furniture items sold to wholesalers.
Across Australia, 51% of eligible people in prison are employed in service industries and 28% work for commercial industries. The majority of work done by incarcerated people is done inside the prison, not out in the broader community.
Employment rates are lower for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people in prison (about 72% compared with 85% for non-Indigenous people).
The kind of work an incarcerated person does matters. For instance, about 70% of the prison population in Broken Hill identifies as Indigenous. In a partnership between the prison and Landcare, incarcerated people there are helping to restore the local lake area.
One of the participants told the ABC last year:
[There’s] nothing better than being on Country […] This has probably been the best thing I’ve ever done to rehabilitate myself.
This reinforces the need for work that is culturally appropriate for Indigenous people.
AAP Image/James Ross
Prison employment reduces reoffending – but can be exploitative
Across Australia, 60% of adults in prison have been in prison before. Australian research shows people who have meaningful employment are less likely to return to prison.
And international research has found participating in employment-focused programs during incarceration leads to an increase in employment and reduction in crime after release.
NSW data show that those who participate in a 12-month traineeship (which requires employment by Corrective Services Industries) are less likely to reoffend. The findings were particularly strong for Indigenous people.
But prison employment programs can be exploitative. Pay rates are very low – as little as $7 a day. In 2020, a report by the Northern Territory Auditor General found problems with the management of almost $1 million of incarcerated people’s money held in trust.
In 2024, the United Nations Special Rapporteur on contemporary forms of slavery assessed the risk of incarcerated people being subjected to modern slavery. He said:
States must pay fairer and sufficient wages regardless of the type of labour performed by incarcerated individuals. In that regard, the national minimum wage, which rises with inflation, is a reasonable starting point.
Moving prison labour outside the prison walls raises questions about workers’ rights. Employees who maintain Victorian roads are entitled to minimum wages and other worker protections. A person sent from prison to work on those roads does not have the same employment status and protections. This means two people could effectively be doing the same work on the same roads and be remunerated under different systems and with very different workplace rights.
It’s also important that the work people do helps prepare them to return to the community. In research one of us (Lorana Bartels) did with incarcerated people in the ACT, one person said:
the skills I learned in the [the ACT prison] definitely wouldn’t help with the outside world […] It feels like I’m back in the first grade.
Many prison jobs are menial and won’t help people develop the skills needed for modern workplaces. This risks worsening the digital divide.
From fixing roads to fixing broader social issues
People enter prison from different starting points. Only 29% of surveyed people entering prison were employed in the month leading up to their imprisonment.
On the other hand, 45% of prison entrants had completed a non-school qualification and, of these, 73% had completed a trade certificate. This shows many incarcerated people do actually have valuable skills and training.
Among people surveyed as they left prison, 72% did not have paid work organised to start within two weeks of release. This highlights the need for prison work to lead to jobs on release.
At best, prison work programs help incarcerated people repay their debt to society and increase the chances of successful reintegration after release. At worst, they have been criticised as effectively a form of slave labour.
The Victorian premier’s proposal reaffirms that incarcerated people are part of broader society and have contributions to make.
But governments also need to provide – and pay for – safe, meaningful, technologically relevant and culturally appropriate job options that help prepare people for the real world.
This help will make our community, not just our roads, safer.
