Law360 Canada (November 12, 2026, 1:46 PM EST) --
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| Harpreet Ahuja |
When I began presiding over disciplinary hearings for B.C. Corrections, I quickly realized I had to relearn how to listen. Incarcerated individuals navigate their environment using their own distinct vocabulary; without understanding it, you risk missing essential pieces of the story, or misinterpreting it entirely.
What makes prison language unique is its secrecy. This intentional blend of slang, coded phrasing and repurposed everyday terms is central to daily life inside, and understanding it is just as critical for staff as it is for those in custody. The language is constantly evolving, varying across institutions and regions, shaped heavily by the tough realities and frequent violence of prison life.
The definitions and examples below come directly from my experience presiding over disciplinary hearings. While names and identifying details have been altered to protect privacy, these reflect real-life cases and verbatim testimony.
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This column does not seek to support or condemn the behaviours described. Rather, it serves as a historical record — a written account of the culture, routines and expressions of a population whose lives often go unseen and unrecorded.
Here are some terms from B.C. provincial jails (all defined in my
prison glossary):
Checked off (verb phrase/institutional idiom)
The act of an incarcerated person intentionally securing their
own removal from a general population living unit due to fears for their personal safety. While this can be attempted through administrative requests, it frequently involves deliberately committing a rule violation — such as assaulting another inmate — to force staff to immediately remove and rehouse them in segregation or protective custody.
Case one
Inmate Campbell knew that if he assaulted inmate Miller, he would be removed from the unit. He didn’t believe in completing a request form, so he took matters into his own hands and checked himself off the unit. He reiterated that he did so for his own safety.
Case two
Earlier in the hearing, inmate Kam testified that he assaulted inmate Jack to check himself off the unit. He felt unsafe, was receiving threats and had been asking staff to remove him.
Case three
Inmate Martens tried for a few days to stay away from inmate Kiel because Kiel carried a shank. After his Nov. 8 transfer request was denied, he ultimately checked himself off the unit. He has PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) from being held captive for 48 days and asked that I impose segregation as a last resort because it worsens his
mental health.
Goof (noun/institutional lethal/volatile slur)
Don’t ever use this word when talking to an inmate.
A severe, highly inflammatory insult that carries profound stigma and disrespect. Contrary to its common outside meaning of a harmless or silly person, within a correctional facility, calling someone a “goof” is an
egregious provocation that challenges a person’s standing, safety and integrity, almost immediately prompting a violent response. The label is often applied to informants, sex offenders and inmates segregated from the general population in protective custody, as well as any inmate or staff member who has become hated for suspicious or irritating behaviour.
Case one
After inmate Scott provided his testimony, I directed that he be removed from the hearing room. He became elevated, aggressive and hostile, using derogatory language toward the officers present, including calling them “goof.” This was not casual disrespect; in this environment, it is the most volatile insult possible, meant to invite a physical confrontation.
Case two
He acknowledged that his involvement led to a three-on-one assault after inmate Donald called the back table where he was seated “goof.” He expressed a lack of remorse, stating, “Yeah, that’s jail.”
Case three
Inmate Simpson testified that inmate Joe called him a “goof” and he responded. I considered the context as a whole within a correctional centre environment and the implications of that slur: had inmate Simpson not responded, he would have put a target on his back.
Heavy (noun/institutional hierarchy)
A high-ranking, influential figure within the inmate hierarchy or an organized criminal group who wields significant power, clout and authority over
institutional “politics.” Unlike lower-level inmates who are forced to carry out orders under threat of violence, a “heavy” operates from a position of control — commanding street or gang affiliations, directing illicit operations (such as contraband trafficking), and ordering retribution or violence against others.
Case one
Inmate Lefont approached the staff station and started to question Officer Kumal’s salary, stating, “I know you don’t make much here,” and then quickly escalated to offering the officer $20,000 a month to “bring in stuff” for him. Officer Kumal testified that he immediately declined, shut the conversation down and understood that inmate Lefont was offering money in exchange for bringing in contraband. He also testified that Lefont told him he was a “big heavy” and that “the politics have changed around here.”
Case two
She said she ripped someone off on the street and was ordered by a “heavy” to assault inmate Joelle, who warned that if she did not, “it would come back to her” while she was at the centre. She explained that she would be jumped if she did not comply.
Case three
He explained that he assaulted inmate Tom because otherwise he would “get jumped.” If he didn’t do it, someone else would have. It took place because of “politics,” and he admitted to the premeditated nature of the assault. I acknowledged inmate Singh’s point of view and lived reality; he felt he needed to do what he did or he would be harmed. This is the unfortunate reality of “being tied up” and “being inside.”
Hot buttering (noun/assault method)
A severe, premeditated method of assault involving boiling butter in a microwave, often mixed with sugar, shampoo, oil or bleach, and thrown onto a targeted inmate. The added substance causes the scalding liquid to stick directly to the victim’s skin rather than running off, which dramatically increases contact time and inflicts catastrophic, deep-tissue burns and permanent disfigurement.
Case one
Inmate Don went to the kitchen area because he did not want inmate Joe to put butter or shampoo in the kettle, which would result in the boiling water sticking to his own skin.
Case two
He took inmate Lucas “under his wing,” but Lucas made him look bad when he did not follow through and “bang the guy out.” He tried to talk to inmate Lucas multiple times, but Lucas kept ignoring him. He explained that if he did not assault Lucas, he would be hot-buttered, stabbed or otherwise harmed.
Want to explore more institutional terms? Visit my
Beyond the Bars Prison Glossary. Have a term to add? You can reach me at
contact@harpreetahuja.com.
Author’s note: The cases are drawn from my experience as an external independent decision-maker presiding over disciplinary hearings for B.C. Corrections (2021-2023). Identifying details have been changed to respect confidentiality and protect privacy.
Harpreet Ahuja is a lawyer, human rights consultant and social justice advocate. Her work explores the intersection of law, policy and lived experience — and tells the human stories behind injustice. Ahuja is based in Vancouver and publishes on her website. Read part one and part two of my solitary confinement series.
The opinions expressed are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the views of the author’s firm, its clients, Law360 Canada, LexisNexis Canada or any of its or their respective affiliates. This article is for general information purposes and is not intended to be and should not be taken as legal advice.
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