Hashem Abedi's sick prison attack show our jails urgently need three things

The attack by convicted terrorist and mass murderer - where he used boiling oil and improvised weapons to injure three prison officers - has stunned the nation. To call it a lapse in prison management would be an understatement bordering on satire. Let's be clear: Abedi is currently serving a 55-year minimum sentence for the murder of 22 people at the Manchester Arena in 2017.

He'd already racked up another three years and ten months for attacking a guard at HMP Belmarsh in 2020 - a 57-year-old man who suffered serious injuries, including long-term hearing damage. And yet, somehow, this same violent extremist was allowed access to both cooking oil and the means to heat it. A man with a known given kitchen privileges. What could possibly go wrong?

Despite being held in Frankland's Separation Centre - a unit designed specifically to isolate extremist inmates - Abedi still managed to plan and carry out a . It's no wonder the public is outraged. And just days later, at HMP Whitemoor, convicted murderer John Mansfield was killed by a fellow inmate. Mansfield wasn't in the general population either; he was in a Close Supervision Centre, supposedly one of the most secure environments in the system.

Frankland and Whitemoor are meant to be the pinnacle of prison security. These are men so dangerous they're considered too volatile even for other violent criminals. And yet, guards are being assaulted and prisoners murdered in facilities that are meant to be near-impervious.

So, what happens now? The usual fanfare - another few years added to a life sentence, stern ministerial tweets about "strongest possible punishments," and perhaps another transfer to a different failing facility.

But the real fixes are painfully obvious: for the most violent inmates, particularly those with a track record of targeting staff; expand solitary confinement for those beyond help; and crucially, build new high-security facilities that can actually contain the threats they pose.

Still, those are just the basics. Necessary, yes - but not transformative. They don't get to the heart of the deeper dysfunction: overcrowded prisons, shifts, widespread drug use, and an appalling lack of order. This is a system on the brink.

Let's start with . They're not just sneaking in - they're part of the scenery. Around 79% of prisoners have reportedly used cannabis while inside. Nearly half have used synthetic cannabinoids like "spice". And also make regular appearances. In some prisons, more than half of inmates test positive for illegal substances.

And between the highs, there's the low-level chaos - nearly 100 staff have been disciplined for with inmates since 2017, and dozens more have been dismissed for smuggling and misconduct. Whatever rehabilitation exists in our prisons is happening in spite of the system, not because of it.

And so we arrive at the inevitable: the UK's eye-watering rates. Roughly 37% of prisoners reoffend within a year, with the figure jumping to 55% for those on shorter sentences. Now compare that with Japan - hardly a bleeding-heart liberal bastion - where re-imprisonment rates are just 10.2% for parolees and 23.3% for those who serve full terms.

What's their secret? Structure. Discipline. Work. A Japanese inmate's day is ruthlessly scheduled: they wake up at 7.10am, clean up, have breakfast, then work from 8.00am to 5pm - anything from carpentry to auto repair. They have dinner and then lights out by 9pm. It's regimented, purposeful, and productive. Idle time simply doesn't exist.

Meanwhile, in Britain? Many inmates spend 22 hours a day in their cells, especially on weekends. Routine? Barely. Rehabilitation? Almost mythical. And we spend nearly £57,000 a year per prisoner to achieve this mediocrity.

We are not going to rehabilitate every offender. And monsters like should never see the outside world again. But for those who can be reformed, we need to rethink what prisons are even for. Work and discipline aren't just deterrents - they're tools for change. They give structure, reduce the pull of gangs and extremism, and offer a roadmap back to society.

Radicalised inmates like Abedi - who are probably spending their days dreaming about collecting 72 virgins in the afterlife - aren't reachable through kindness and "pathways to rehabilitation". But the rest? The ones who've made terrible choices but aren't beyond reach? They deserve a system that offers consistency, training, and a reason to look forward.

If we're serious about protecting staff, cutting reoffending, and clawing back the £18.1billion we spend annually on repeat offenders, we need bold, intelligent reform. Because if we can't even keep our own officers safe in our most secure jails, do we have a functioning system left at all?