The Truth They Don’t Want You to See: How CDCR Fuels Fear to Feed the Prison Industrial Complex

By Ivan Kilgore

It never fails to amaze me how easily people accept the narratives handed to them by the media and those in power—especially when it comes to prisons. Few question who benefits from these narratives or what interests they serve. After spending nearly 25 years inside the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR), I’ve seen firsthand how lies, half-truths, and manipulation are used to maintain control, cover up failure, and justify bloated budgets. Compared to CDCR officials, Pinocchio was an honest kid with a slight fibbing habit.

Recently, we’ve been hearing about an uptick in prisoner violence statewide. In response, CDCR slapped all maximum-security facilities with a systemwide lockdown. No movement, no programs, no visits. Just cages and silence. As the days passed, word filtered in through the grapevine—someone got killed here, there was a stabbing at another yard, and apparently the local news was airing segments about these incidents. I haven’t watched the news in a while, but I already knew how it would be spun: prisoners are dangerous, we’re out of control, and CDCR is doing everything it can to keep the public safe.

But what happened last week at Solano State Prison, where I’m currently housed, shows what’s really going on behind the curtain.

CDCR is under pressure from budget cuts. They’ve been told to shut down facilities. Here at Solano, the directive came down to close one or two housing units in each facility—an unpopular decision for staff who are worried about their jobs. Tensions among the guards shot through the roof. Then, in the middle of this chaos, there were a couple of fistfights and a stabbing on C-Facility. None of this is out of the ordinary in prison. Fights happen, unfortunately. They’re part of this broken system.

But here’s where it gets suspicious: instead of focusing on C-Facility, the warden placed Facilities A and B—where I live—on a soft lockdown called “Modified Program.” We were told it was because of “ongoing violence and weapon findings.” Except… there was no significant violence reported on A or B. No formal security threat assessment. No legitimate reason. Just a vague memo and another layer of control slapped on us for no apparent reason. But most of us soon realized what was going on.

It doesn’t take a genius to see what’s happening. CDCR is creating a crisis to avoid following through on orders to shut down units. They’re using isolated incidents to manufacture a sense of widespread danger. Then, they turn around and use that fear—both inside and outside the walls—to demand more resources. This is the playbook: let tensions rise, ignore the conditions that created the violence, then act like saviors when things boil over.

The truth is, CDCR plays a direct role in creating the volatile environments they later condemn. They ignore staff misconduct, house people in unsanitary and degrading conditions, deny adequate mental health care, and strip away meaningful programming. Add to that the lack of educational and job opportunities, and what you have is a human pressure cooker. When it explodes, CDCR blames the people locked inside, never the policies or personnel responsible.

But this isn’t just happening here. Take the case of Gregory Rodriguez, a former correctional officer at the Central California Women’s Facility, who was convicted of sexually abusing 13 women under his custody. He got away with it for years because no one listened. Or the guards at Los Padrinos Juvenile Hall who ran “gladiator fights” among incarcerated kids—over 30 of them were indicted after nearly 70 staged fights were exposed. These are not isolated cases. These are symptoms of a sick system.

Even when misconduct is investigated, it’s often buried in secrecy. Officers resign quietly with severance packages. There’s no accountability, no justice. It’s all swept under the rug while the public is fed stories about “violent inmates” and “heroic staff.” Meanwhile, those of us on the inside pay the price—through strip searches, solitary confinement, cancelled visits with loved ones, and other dehumanizing tactics straight out of a terrorist playbook.

This has to stop. And it starts with you.

If you have a loved one inside CDCR, don’t wait. File a complaint with the Office of Internal Affairs or the California Inspector General. Demand an investigation into the use of lockdowns, staff misconduct, and the decisions being made under the pretense of safety. Use California’s Right to Know laws (like SB 1421) to request records and hold these people accountable.

The truth doesn’t travel as fast as a lie. Mark Twain said, “A lie will travel halfway around the world before the truth puts its shoes on.” But that doesn’t mean the truth won’t catch up. We just have to help it move faster.

I’m speaking up from the inside because I’ve seen too much silence, too much harm. The prison industrial complex survives off fear, manipulation, and neglect. It’s time to cut off its fuel supply.

You can start today.

It’s up to us to hold CDCR accountable! If you don’t sign this petition, our incarcerated loved ones will continue to suffer!