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No Bars, No Guards, No Violence: Europe’s Experiment in Trust-Based Justice

Student Stories: Summer Research Series

Samantha Richter is one of our 2025 Human Rights Summer Research Grant winners and a featured guest blogger. Samantha is spending the summer in Brussels, the Czech Republic, and Portugal analyzing the political and fiscal barriers to implementing small-scale detention centers in Europe and identifying strategies for overcoming them. Grant winners will be sharing an inside look into their experiences on the Duke Human Rights Blog this summer and fall as part of our Student Stories: Summer Research Series.

My interest in one of America’s most persistent systemic failures, the prison industry, has taken me across the Atlantic to Belgium, the Netherlands, the Czech Republic, Ireland, and Portugal to investigate meaningful alternatives. The justice model I’ve traveled so far to explore would, to many Americans accustomed to a punishment-driven system, seem like something out of speculative fiction. 

That search led me, in early June, to Kortrijk, a quiet town nestled in rural Belgium and home to the country’s first small-scale detention house. After a two-train, three-bus journey through a sea of Dutch-only signage (a language I do not speak, despite my best attempts at context clues), I found myself standing at the gates of what had occupied my research for the past six months: a radically different vision of incarceration built on rehabilitation, dignity, and integration—not surveillance and control. 

The facility looked nothing like what comes to mind when picturing a prison. To my right: a modern, open-concept kitchen my mom would envy. Straight ahead: a sunny garden with a parakeet cage and incarcerated individuals in jeans and hoodies, chatting and playing cards with staff who wore no uniforms, just badges. The halls were clean and calm, lined with dorm-style rooms, each personalized with family photos, decorations, and even iPhones resting on side tables. 

The director, the very first person to lead one of these small-scale houses, walked me through what used to be a senior living home, now transformed into a 77-person detention facility for those convicted of lower-level offenses like theft, drug possession, and minor violence. As we passed residents, she greeted each with a nod or a casual “Hallo.” In turn, they held open the doors they’re trusted to move through freely, introduced themselves, and welcomed me into their space with a calm sense of ease. 

No bars. No uniforms. No handcuffs. No armed guards. No locked cells. And in their three years of operation? No instances of violence.  

How could a philosophy of justice so radically centered on humanity coexist in the same world as the U.S. system we treat as the default? In a country defined by mandatory minimums, for-profit prisons, and “tough on crime” soundbites, I’ve spent years circling the same question: how do we even begin to reform a system plagued by high recidivism rates, inhumane conditions, ballooning incarceration, and the generational fallout of destabilized communities? Perhaps the first step isn’t trying to reform something flawed from the start, but rather stepping outside of it altogether. If the system has consistently failed to deliver on its core promises of safety and justice, then maybe a complete reconstruction is necessary. 

The small-scale detention house movement taking root across Europe envisions justice as an interconnected ecosystem, shaped by healthcare, education, housing, income, and mental health support. By visiting these facilities and researching their implementation, I’m investigating whether this model can be scaled beyond its current contexts or if it remains bound by cultural and political conditions.  

The Kortrijk facility I visited is part of a growing network of detention houses that now includes several operational centers and many more in development. Across 17 European countries, the RESCALED advocacy movement is working to replace traditional large-scale prisons with smaller, community-integrated alternatives. These facilities are guided by three core principles: 

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Justice Ecosystem diagram displaying chronosystem, macrosystem, exosystem, mesosystem, microsystem, with detention facility in the center.
The justice ecosystem as imagined by RESCALED, the leading organization of the small-scale detention house movement
  1. Keeping them small-scale, ideally housing no more than 30 individuals.  

  1. Emphasizing differentiation, with tailored responses to various offenses and individual needs that balance rehabilitation and accountability.  

  1. And prioritizing community integration by embedding the facilities within society rather than isolating them. Residents are connected to external services such as education and healthcare and may take on jobs in the community once they’ve earned trust and demonstrated readiness. 

 

Inspired by this model, my thesis investigates the political and cultural barriers to implementing small-scale detention centers across varied national contexts, each with its own prison systems, public attitudes, and forms of governance. Through 35 to 40 interviews with policymakers, prison administrators, and advocates of the RESCALED movement, I ask how the concept is explained to skeptical political actors, how communities respond on the local level, its implications for safety and recidivism, and what psychological evidence supports its effectiveness.  

A fair and important question, one I often sit with on long journeys back from detention houses, is whether these more compassionate approaches to incarceration can truly work across different national and cultural frameworks. Can they balance the need for accountability with the principles of rehabilitation? Can they deliver justice not just for the incarcerated, but for victims and communities as well? The tension between public safety and compassion, between retribution and reintegration, is real and not easily resolved. 

And yet, standing in the courtyard of a small-scale facility, speaking with residents committed to their sobriety, holding steady jobs in restaurants, or cleaning the pitch at the local soccer club, I saw something quietly powerful. These aren’t abstract theories or pilot programs on paper. They’re lived, daily realities that offer a glimpse of what justice might look like when built on trust rather than control. 

Back in Brussels, sipping a café crème beneath towering EU buildings and amid policy debates unfolding in three different languages, I find myself reflecting on what systemic change truly requires. What allows new ideas, especially those grounded in both empathy and complexity, to move beyond academic theses and panel discussions into the political mainstream? How do we bring innovative, evidence-based alternatives into the conversations that shape real decisions, from family dinner tables to ministries of justice? 

With each interview and site visit, I become more convinced that paradigm shifts I used to view as impossible are already quietly unfolding across Europe. Through my thesis, I hope to help translate the successes of alternative incarceration models into practical frameworks that other countries can adapt. I also hope to challenge and expand how we think about prison systems and what we ultimately mean by justice. 

Follow Duke Human Rights Center on social media and sign up for our newsletter to keep up with our Student Stories: Summer Research Series. Look out for part 2 of Samantha's research experience later this summer!

 

My favorite corners of Brussels (and frites, of course):