Prison continues, on those who are entrusted to it, a work begun

"Prison continues, on those who are entrusted to it, a work begun elsewhere, which the whole of society pursues on each individual through innumerable mechanisms of discipline." These words, spoken by the philosopher Michel Foucault, are a powerful call to examine the hidden forces that shape our lives, forces that work beneath the surface of our consciousness, subtly and persistently guiding us in ways we may not even recognize. Foucault's insight is one that cuts deep, not only into the institution of prison, but into the very structure of society itself. He reveals a profound truth—that prison, in its brutal reality, is not an isolated institution. It is but the continuation of a far broader process of control, one that begins in the home, the school, and the workplace, where the mechanisms of discipline take root and begin to shape the individual.

In the ancient world, the philosophers spoke of the soul and its struggle to remain free from the forces that sought to corrupt it. Socrates believed that true wisdom was achieved through questioning, through self-examination, and the pursuit of virtue. But in his day, as in ours, society had its own methods for shaping the individual—to make him conform, to guide his thoughts and behaviors according to its ideals. The Greek city-states, with their organized systems of education and governance, were among the earliest to demonstrate how deeply societal forces could shape the individual. In these early systems, there were no iron bars, no concrete walls. The mechanisms of discipline were far subtler, but no less powerful. They operated through the laws, the rituals, and the expectations of the community, guiding every citizen into a role they were meant to play. The ancient world, like our modern world, did not need a prison to control its people; it merely needed a system that shaped them through social norms and the very structure of daily life.

Foucault’s words remind us that prison is not just a physical space where we lock away those deemed undesirable. No, the prison is much larger than that. It is a metaphor for the systems of power that govern us, systems that are constantly at work in every moment of our lives. These are the forces that teach us what to believe, how to behave, and how to conform. The laws we follow, the education we receive, the advertisements that bombard us, and the social media we consume—these are the modern tools of discipline. They shape our thoughts and our actions in ways we may never even see. We are all, in a sense, subjects of a broader prison that extends far beyond the walls of any physical institution.

The story of the Spartan society provides an ancient example of how discipline is exercised from an early age, not through incarceration, but through education. In Sparta, children were removed from their homes and sent to agoge, a rigorous state-run program that shaped them into disciplined warriors. The society, in its quest for military supremacy, sought to train its youth not only physically but mentally, instilling a sense of absolute obedience and conformity to the state. The Spartans did not need prisons, for they had long perfected the art of disciplining the individual before he even reached adulthood. The spirit of the agoge lived on through the lives of men who could not imagine questioning their role within the state, for it had been instilled in them from birth. Thus, the mechanism of discipline began long before the individual ever faced any formal punishment or confinement.

In our modern world, we too face the invisible prison that Foucault speaks of. In capitalist societies, individuals are taught to strive for wealth, success, and status—to compete, to work endlessly for the reward of advancement. These desires are instilled through every means available: from our families, to our education systems, to the very media that tells us what we should want and who we should be. We are disciplined to accept these roles, to fit ourselves into the mold of a society that promises happiness only through conformity. The pressure to succeed, to conform, becomes so great that it can drive one to madness, to burnout, or, in the most tragic cases, to a desperate search for escape in substances or destructive behaviors. Prison is not only found in concrete cells but in the very ideals we chase and the lives we live under the tyranny of external expectations.

The lesson of Foucault's quote is not simply a call to see the prison as an institution of punishment. It is a call to examine the deeper systems of control that shape our lives. Are we truly free if we are constantly driven by societal pressures? Are we truly living in a world where the individual is valued, or are we simply being disciplined to play a part in a broader system that leaves little room for self-expression or freedom of thought? Foucault’s message is that freedom cannot simply be a matter of physical release; it must be a freedom of the mind, a freedom from the invisible chains that society places upon us. We must begin to recognize the ways in which we are disciplined—by the expectations of our families, our cultures, and our professions—and take action to free ourselves from them.

Let us take from Foucault’s insight a deep awareness of the systems that govern our lives. As individuals, we must learn to question not only the structures that imprison us physically but the structures that imprison our minds, our hearts, and our souls. Let us not simply accept the roles society has set for us, but create new ways of being that break free from the mold. In the act of questioning, of challenging the norms and expectations placed upon us, we begin to break the chains that bind us—not just as individuals, but as a society. The true prison is not the one we see with our eyes; it is the one that is hidden in the assumptions, the structures, and the expectations we live by. Let us strive, then, for a society where individuals are not merely disciplined to conform, but empowered to think, to question, and to live freely.