Life behind bars has its own laws, codes, and hierarchy — a social order as rigid and unforgiving as the steel bars themselves. When you cram hundreds of men into a confined space—sometimes so close that the toilet is only a few feet from your head—it’s inevitable that a system of power emerges. Prison isn’t just about serving time; it’s about surviving inside an ecosystem where respect, fear, and reputation are the currencies that matter most.
The Top of the Pyramid
At the top sit the shot-callers — high-ranking members of organized crime syndicates who still wield influence from the inside. Old-school Mafia figures may retain pockets of respect, but today, the real muscle often comes from racially or ethnically aligned prison gangs. Groups like the Mexican Mafia, Aryan Brotherhood, Black Guerrilla Family, Latin Kings, and MS-13 dominate entire facilities. Their reach extends beyond prison walls into street operations, drug routes, and neighborhood turf wars.
These leaders operate with military precision, often communicating through coded messages, legal mail, or even family visits. Beneath them are their soldiers — loyal members who handle day-to-day enforcement, drug distribution, and protection. The rules are simple but absolute: loyalty, silence, and retaliation. If someone disrespects or harms a gang member, the entire organization responds. Violence isn’t random — it’s policy.
The Middle Tier: The Neutrals
Next comes the largest demographic — the neutrals. These are inmates who aren’t affiliated with any gang or organized group. They just want to do their time and get out. But even they live under an unwritten code of conduct: don’t snitch, don’t stare, don’t touch another man’s belongings, and don’t act like you’re better than anyone else. Basic respect is sacred.
A neutral inmate who minds his business can serve his sentence relatively quietly. But neutrality doesn’t mean safety. If you accidentally insult a shot-caller, sit at the wrong table, or borrow something without asking, you might find yourself in a fight you never saw coming. In prison, ignorance of the social rules is no excuse.
The “Prison Wives” and Power Through Submission
Beneath the neutrals exists one of the most psychologically complex layers of prison society — the so-called “prison wives.” These are inmates, often physically smaller or emotionally vulnerable, who are dominated by stronger prisoners. Sometimes they’re coerced into servitude through intimidation or violence. Other times, they submit willingly, trading autonomy for protection.
To outsiders, it might seem purely sexual — and yes, that’s part of it — but inside, it’s mostly about power. The “husband” establishes dominance and status by possessing another man. The “wife,” in turn, gains a form of twisted safety. They might cook, clean, wash clothes, or perform sexual acts, all under the illusion of being “protected.” But that protection comes at a price — total obedience.
When that protection disappears, things can turn dangerous fast. If the dominant inmate gets transferred, killed, or loses status, the “wife” becomes fair game. Some end up “passed around” or targeted by other predators. Prison staff are often aware of these dynamics but turn a blind eye unless outright violence occurs. It’s a brutal arrangement, but in the absence of freedom, people adapt to survive however they can.
The Outcasts: Chomos and Other Pariahs
Then there are the chomos — prison slang for child molesters and other sex offenders. These inmates occupy the lowest rungs of social standing. Even the most hardened murderers, drug lords, and gang enforcers tend to despise them. Crimes involving children are viewed as unforgivable.
Once their charges become known — and they almost always do — they’re at constant risk of being beaten, extorted, or killed. Many prisons place them in protective custody (known as “PC”) or in separate housing units away from the general population. But even there, the stigma follows. Other inmates will spit at them, throw urine or feces through cell doors, and taunt them endlessly.
A regular inmate caught talking to or sharing a table with a chomo might as well paint a target on his back.
The Bottom of the Barrel: The Snitches
Finally, at the very bottom are the snitches. In prison, nothing is worse than being labeled an informant. It doesn’t matter what crime you committed, what gang you’re in, or how long your sentence is — if you’re seen as someone who talks to the staff, you’re finished. The inmate code is crystal clear: You don’t tell.
Sometimes the label is true; sometimes it’s rumor. Either way, it’s deadly. Snitches are often attacked in the yard, stabbed in the showers, or “checked in” (voluntarily placed in protective custody) just to stay alive. Once branded, there’s no coming back. Even if the inmate they informed on has been transferred, released, or is long dead, there will always be someone ready to settle the score.
Life for a snitch often means years in administrative segregation, or “the hole.” They spend 23 hours a day locked alone in a small cell. It’s safer, but it’s also a kind of slow-motion death — isolation, boredom, and paranoia all rolled into one. Some inmates intentionally get transferred to new prisons to escape the label, but word has a way of traveling. The walls may be concrete, but gossip moves faster than contraband.