For nearly three decades, Professor of Sociology Jayne Mooney, Ph.D. has been at the forefront of research in the Critical Criminology field, with her work informing government policy change, providing insight into social-political history, and advancing change in society. Her body of work and its impact recently earned her the American Society of Criminology’s Division on Critical Criminology & Social Justice (DCCSJ) 2020 Lifetime Achievement Award. The award recognizes her sustained and distinguished scholarship, teaching, and service in the field of critical criminology. “I felt very emotional when I learned I had won the Lifetime Achievement Award. It is quite something to have your work recognized in this way and by such incredible people who I have enormous respect for. But I feel that the award is not just a recognition for me, it’s really a recognition of all the work we do in critical criminology at John Jay, especially through the Social Change and Transgressive Studies Project,” says Mooney. “It really is a collaborative enterprise. I’m so grateful for the incredible support I’ve received here at John Jay, especially from my colleagues, the Sociology department, and the Office for the Advancement of Research, including Anthony Carpi, and Dan Stageman who have been so helpful with all my projects. I’m very grateful for the faith everyone has in me.”

Mooney’s approach to research has been described as compassionate, well thought out, and intentional, and it’s clear she cares about not only the people she’s working with but also the people in her studies. “I get weary about research for research’s sake. You have to think about the people who you are interviewing and the impact that their opening up to you will have on them. You want this research to help them, to raise awareness, and help create solutions for the problems we’re studying.” That depth of dedication has made Mooney one of the most highly-regarded and influential people in her field. Donna L. Selman, Ph.D., Chairperson of the American Society of Criminology, summed up Mooney’s effect on critical criminology in her award letter. “I must say that in the 20 plus years in service to the DCCSJ I have never been more impressed by the widespread impact by a single individual,” said Selman. “No less than 15 letters of nomination were received on [her] behalf and each one of them spoke in detail about [her] impact.”

Wanting to learn more about her research in the critical criminology field, we sat down with Mooney to discuss her life, the collaborative research she’s working on at John Jay, and what drew her to the field.

How do you define Critical Criminology and what was it about the field that made it so appealing to you?
Critical criminology interrogates the material basis of society. It’s about examining the social structure and about how power is shaped and manifested in society. But there’s also this activist side of critical criminology that tries to make the world a better place. Critical criminology is an umbrella term that covers many things including feminist criminology, socialist criminology, anarchist criminology, convict criminology, and green criminology—and what they all share is that they’re trying to effect change, they’re attempting to do something to make things better.

In what way did your upbringing shape your view of the world and your aspirations for your career? 
I was the first in my immediate family to go to university. In those days in the UK you received a grant to go to university and it included your tuition and living cost. Because I was from a low-income family and a single-parent household, I received the full amount. If I didn’t have that kind of financial support, I wouldn’t have gone to university. Getting an education was completely transformative for me and it’s why I am a total advocate for student funding. The difference that kind of economic security would make in our students’ lives would be extraordinary. My experience of going through university has been very influential and it’s why I gravitate toward teaching at institutions that serve diverse—in terms of race and class—student bodies.

What was it about John Jay that made you want to teach here?
The diversity of the student body and the research coming from faculty really drew me to the College. Our students are incredible and I’ve learned so much from them. They’ve helped open my eyes to the impact of many of the injustices and social inequities faced in this country. So many of them are doing incredible work in the field of critical criminology. For example, alumna Jacqui Young—I’m currently mentoring her master’s degree thesis—went on to teach dance to men serving life at Sing-Sing; graduate student Albert de la Tierra is working on the archival section of the Critical Social History Project; Nick Rodrigo, who is working on the Social Change and Transgressive Studies Project, is completing his Ph.D. on border agents.

The research coming from John Jay was a big factor in my wanting to teach here. The College has been a hub for critical criminology and progressive work within criminology. When I joined in the early 2000s it was becoming well known on the international stage and the idea of having incredible colleagues like David Brotherton, Andrew Karmen, Natalie Sokoloff, and Todd Clear was exciting. We have always had great folks here, Theresa Rockett, our department secretary and back-bone of the department, was one of the first people I met at John Jay and to this day, she’s one of my dearest friends. I value the exchanges of ideas I have with all my colleagues. They really keep me going.

Your research on domestic violence helped change how it is perceived by the public as well as law enforcement, and led to greater resources for victims in the U.K. Can you tell us how you came to this course of study?
My work on domestic violence is perhaps the most meaningful work I’ve done. It was the early ’90s and people weren’t really aware of the level of violence and the impact it had on the women involved and on society as a whole—it was very hidden. At the time, I lived with other students and there was a couple that lived above us. One day the woman came and knocked on our door and asked us to help her move out and she said she’d been experiencing violence from her boyfriend. We had no idea. As we started to help her, her boyfriend returned with friends and tried to start a fight with some of the people helping her move, so I called the police and they never came because it wasn’t regarded as a policing issue. It was seen as a private domestic issue. I remember telling my mom about the incident and she reeled off a whole list of women she knew that experienced violence at the hands of their boyfriends or husbands. That’s when I realized how hidden domestic violence was.

During this time, I was also a research assistant at a hospital and the department I worked for began to do research on violence against women, but it was very clinical in focus and heavily quantitative and I thought, there’s no way you can capture a woman’s experience with such a model. So, I went to the Center of Criminology at Middlesex University and began looking at the research that had been done. I took a local crime survey, which was a vehicle for local people to talk about their fears and their experiences with crime, and I adapted this model to women to find out about their experiences with domestic violence. Our study produced some of the first baseline figures, which were very high, and showed how well hidden domestic violence was at the time—there is a real lack of reporting. The study was taken up by the local and national government which then worked to increase resources to combat domestic violence and help victims and survivors.

What were some of the challenges you faced while doing this research?
The research was multi-method, so it was quantitative in that it provided statistics and led to greater resources, but there was also a very strong qualitative component as well. For example, how each woman defined violence and the impact of their experiences differed. In research, there needs to be compassion, you need that qualitative component because you’re often interviewing people who feel powerless and you don’t want to further disempower them through the research process.  We were going into people’s lives, and even with the best intentions, it can compound the survivors’ experiences, so we were mindful of that fact. You have to be very careful as a researcher who goes in and then walks away from someone who has just told you their life story. The critical criminologists I work with all have that qualitative component in their research.

Collaborative research is an important aspect of your work here at John Jay. Can you tell us about some of the projects you’re working on with students and alumni?
I’m currently working on a project with a remarkable John Jay alumna, Yolanda Ortiz-Rodriguez. She is John Jay through and through. She did her undergraduate degree, master’s degree, and her Ph.D. at John Jay, all while bringing up two children on her own. Yolanda and I are looking at undocumented women survivors of domestic violence and their fears of deportation—particularly women living in New York City’s Latinx communities. We plan to further expand on the research by going to the border. We want to see what is happening in terms of how much help women at the border are getting, and find out if they are having problems accessing legal help. We’re hoping to speak with domestic violence advocates, and the immigration and domestic violence lawyers who are trying to help these women.

My colleagues and I are also working with students on the social history of Rikers Island for the Social Change and Transgressive Studies Project. What we’re trying to do through this project is tell the story of New York through the history of incarceration and exclusion. One of the themes we’re exploring is how the same problems reoccur with New York City's penal institutions. They start in a spirit of optimism, a focus on rehabilitation and then are seen as collapsing amongst rioting, overcrowding, escapes. They are then condemned as a disaster, the city decides to close it and rebuild elsewhere. We see this happen over and over again in New York. But what’s not being taken into account are the systemic inequalities that create these issues in the first place as well as the history of power imbalances and exclusion in liberal democratic society. One of our brilliant undergraduate students, Camilla Broderick, is someone who spent time at Rikers and she’s writing a series of blogs for our website talking about her personal experiences. She’s already expanding on the project, looking at the problems around drugs and drug laws and how these problems persist today. I just know that she is going to do wonderful work in the social justice field, she’s got an amazing future ahead of her.

Are there any other projects you’re currently working on?
I’m currently working on authoring my next book Rikers Island: A Social History of the Other New York. Rikers Island has always interested me. The fact that it’s so close to Manhattan where those incarcerated can see the city lights from their windows, where they can see the planes flying overhead from LaGuardia airport, that juxtaposition is extraordinary and, of course, hugely disturbing. The book will be completed next year.