FINNISH PRISONS: NO GATES OR ARMED GUARDS

KERAVA, Finland - Going by the numbers, Antti Syvajarvi is a loser. He is a
prison inmate in Finland - the country that jails fewer of its citizens
than any other in the European Union.

Still, he counts himself fortunate.

"If I have to be a prisoner," he said, "I'm happy I'm one in Finland
because I trust the Finnish system."

So, evidently, do law-abiding Finns, even though their system is Europe's
most lenient and would probably be the object of soft-on-criminals derision
in many societies outside of the Nordic countries.

In polls measuring what national institutions they admire the most, Finns
put their criminal-coddling police in the No. 1 position.

The force is the smallest in per capita terms in Europe, but it has a
corruption-free reputation and it solves 90 percent of its serious crimes.

"I know this system sounds like a curiosity," said Markku Salminen, a
former beat patrolman and homicide detective who is now the director
general of the prison service in charge of punishments. "But if you visit
our prisons and walk our streets, you will see that this very mild version
of law enforcement works. I don't blame other countries for having harsher
systems because they have different histories and politics, but this model
works for us."

Finland, a relatively classless culture with a Scandinavian belief in the
benevolence of the state and a trust in its civic institutions, is
something of a laboratory for gentle justice. The kinds of economic and
social disparities that can produce violence don't exist in Finland's
welfare state society, street crime is low, and law enforcement officials
can count on support from an uncynical public.

Look in on Finland's penal institutions, whether those the system
categorizes as "open" or "closed," and it is hard to tell when you've
entered the world of custody. "This is a closed prison," Esko Aaltonen,
warden of the Hameenlinna penitentiary, said in welcoming a visitor. "But
you may have noticed you just drove in, and there was no gate blocking you."

Walls and fences have been removed in favor of unobtrusive camera
surveillance and electronic alert networks. Instead of clanging iron gates,
metal passageways and grim cells, there are linoleum-floored hallways lined
with living spaces for inmates that resemble dormitory rooms more than
lockups in a slammer.

Guards are unarmed and wear either civilian clothes or uniforms free of
emblems like chevrons and epaulettes. "There are 10 guns in this prison,
and they are all in my safe," Mr. Aaltonen said.

"The only time I take them out is for transfer of prisoners."

At the "open" prisons, inmates and guards address each other by first name.
Prison superintendents go by nonmilitary titles like manager or governor,
and prisoners are sometimes referred to as "clients" or, if they are
youths, "pupils."

"We are parents, that's what we are," said Kirsti Njeminen, governor of the
Kerava prison that specializes in rehabilitating young offenders like Mr.
Syvajarvi.

Generous home leaves are available, particularly as the end of a sentence
nears, and for midterm inmates, there are houses on the grounds, with
privacy assured, where they can spend up to four days at a time with
visiting spouses and children.

"We believe that the loss of freedom is the major punishment, so we try to
make it as nice inside as possible," said Merja Toivonen, a supervisor at
Hameenlinna.

Natalia Leppamaki, 39, a Russian immigrant convicted of drunken driving,
switched off a sewing machine she was using to make prison clothing and
picked up on Ms. Toivonen's point. "Here you have work, you can eat and you
can do sports, but home is home, and I don't think you'll see me in here
again," she said.

Thirty years ago, Finland had a rigid model, inherited from neighboring
Russia, and one of the highest rates of imprisonment in Europe. But then
academics provoked a thoroughgoing rethinking of penal policy, with their
argument that it ought to reflect the region's liberal theories of social
organization.

"Finnish criminal policy is exceptionally expert-oriented," said Tapio
Lappi-Seppala, director of the National Research Institute of Legal Policy.
"We believe in the moral-creating and value-shaping effect of punishment
instead of punishment as retribution."

He asserted that over the last two decades, more than 40,000 Finns had been
spared prison, $20 million in costs had been saved, and the crime rate had
gone down to relatively low Scandinavian levels.

Mr. Salminen, the prison service director, pulled out a piece of paper and
drew three horizontal lines. "This first level is self-control, the second
is social control and the third is officer control. In Finland," he
explained, "we try to intervene at this first level so people won't get to
the other two."

The men and women who work in the prisons also back the softer approach.
"There are officers who were here 20 and 30 years ago, and they say it was
much tougher to work then, with more people trying to escape and more
prison violence," said Kaisa Tammi-Moilanen, 32, governor of the open ward
at Hameenlinna.

She conceded that there were people who took advantage of the leniency.
Risto Nikunen, 41, a grizzled drifter who has never held a job and has been
in prison 11 times, was asked outside his drug rehabilitation unit if he
might be one of them. "Well," he shrugged, "many people do come to prison
to take a break and try to get better again."

Prison officials can give up to 20 days solitary confinement to inmates as
punishment for infractions like fighting or possessing drugs, though the
usual term is from three to five days. Mr. Aaltonen said he tried to avoid
even that by first talking out the problem with the offending inmate.

Finnish courts mete out four general punishments - a fine, a conditional
sentence, which amounts to probation, community service and an
unconditional sentence. Even this last category is made less harsh by a
practice of letting prisoners out after only half their term is served.
Like the rest of the countries of the European Union, Finland has no death
penalty.

According to the Ministry of Justice in Helsinki, there are a little more
than 2,700 prisoners in Finland, a country of 5.2 million people, or 52 for
every 100,000 inhabitants. Ministry figures show the comparable rate is 702
per 100,000 in the United States, 664 in Russia and 131 in Portugal, the
highest in the European Union.

Finland's chief worry now is the rise in drug-related crimes that do result
in prison sentences and the growing number of Russians and Estonians, who
Mr. Lappi-Seppala said were introducing organized-crime activities into
Finland.

Finns credit their press and their politicians with keeping the
law-and-order debate civil and not strident. "Our newspapers are not full
of sex and crime," Mr. Salminen said. "And there is no pressure on me to
get tough on criminals from populist-issue politicians like there would be
in a lot of other countries."

One reason why the Finnish public may tolerate their policy of limited
punishment is that victims receive compensation payments from the
government. Mrs. Tammi-Moilanen was asked if this was enough to keep them
from getting angry over the system of gentle justice.

"My feeling is that victims wouldn't feel that justice is better done by
giving very severe punishment," she said. "We don't believe in an eye for
an eye, we are a bit more civilized than that, I hope."

Mr. Syvajarvi, a muscular 21-year-old with close-cropped hair who become a
heroin addict at age 14, received a six-year sentence for drug selling and
assaults. As a young offender, he will serve only a third of that time, and
he is expected to be out in a year.

He is now the appointed "big brother" peer counselor to other youths in the
jail, must submit to random drug checks to make sure he remains off the
habit and has undergone training with anger management specialists that he
says has prepared him to rejoin society with a new outlook.

"Before, I wanted to be like those drug dealers in the States," he said,
adding in English, "I was a gangster wannabe." He went into a boxer's
crouch and popped punches in the air. "I used to think the most important
thing was to stand up for yourself.

"Now I've learned that it takes more courage to run away."