As I worked as a new correctional officer, I came to realize that some inmates can make a typical shift miserable. For example, when I worked in the Special Housing Unit, most of the inmates had been placed in segregation due to disciplinary reasons; a few caused problems for staff during every aspect of their shifts. Staff members dealt with inmates who would hold their food slots open, flood their cells, bang on their doors, refuse to return trays of food and create endless disruptions throughout the entirety of a shift, which required great patience.
In that environment, it became easy to remember names. You could recall the inmate who turned a simple meal pass into a conflict situation, the one who flooded his cell, the one who refused to follow an order or the one who forced staff to spend more time handling unnecessary, physically exhausting behavior. Even though no one had ever officially indicated that an inmate would go on your GNC list — the informal “you got nothing coming” list officers use to remember difficult inmates — your continued experience with that individual would lead to some well-known names on your list as you did your job.
How the GNC list quietly takes shape
The rationale of the GNC list was relatively simple: if an inmate made your job more difficult, challenged your authority, embarrassed you or created ongoing problems, you remembered that inmate. Because that inmate had been placed on your GNC list, it often felt easier to give only the minimum required by policy. An inmate not on your list might receive an extra tray if available, additional time in the shower, more recreation time or extra assistance with a request, while the inmate on the GNC list would not receive the same consideration.
That inmate was also more likely to be selected first for a cell search, urinalysis or breath test, not always based on current behavior or intelligence, but based on how the officer remembered past behavior.
That is where the problem begins.
“You got nothing coming” is a common phrase in prisons. In “You Got Nothing Coming: Notes from a Prison Fish,” Jimmy Lerner illustrates the harsh realities of prison life with this phrase — comfort, status and special treatment cannot be counted on, even though they may be desired. Each prison has its own rules, limitations and hierarchy. As Gresham Sykes pointed out in “The Society of Captives,” prison provides a completely different social environment, and the challenges and limitations of imprisonment shape the behavior and culture of the inmate population. These pressures influence how prisoners behave, the social systems they create and the power struggles that exist within prisons.
But corrections does not stop at one bad shift.
The real test comes after the bad shift
Later, you may see that same inmate in general population acting like a completely different person. The inmate who once banged on the door may now be quiet. The one who held the food slot open may now be compliant. The one who flooded a cell may now go through the day without bothering anyone.
But the officer still remembers. The flooded cell. The banging. The tray refusal. The frustration.
That is where the real professional test begins. Do you manage that inmate based on current behavior, policy and sound correctional judgment? Or do you manage that inmate based on an old memory from a bad shift?
The badge requires the first response, even when human nature pulls toward the second.
This is why the GNC list is such an important lesson for new officers and supervisors. It shows how easily frustration can turn into personal decision-making. A correctional officer has authority, but that authority must be connected to policy, safety, behavior and legitimate correctional purpose. Once authority becomes personal, professionalism begins to decline.
An effective officer can be firm without being vindictive. An officer can be assertive without making the job personal. An officer can be alert and security-minded without using discretion as a quiet form of punishment. Searches, urinalysis testing, breath tests, cell inspections and other security measures are important correctional tools. They help maintain safety, accountability and institutional order. But those tools should be used because policy, behavior, intelligence or reasonable suspicion supports their use — not simply because an inmate made a previous shift difficult.
Inmates pay attention to staff behavior. They know when an officer is being consistent, and they know when something feels personal. They may not like being held accountable, but most can recognize when decisions are tied to behavior rather than personal dislike.
When officers apply rules consistently, their authority becomes stronger. When rules are applied based on personal dislike, credibility weakens. Professionalism does not mean overlooking misconduct. It means the officer is not controlled by ego, anger or resentment. It means the easy inmate and the difficult inmate are both managed according to policy, behavior and sound judgment.
This is especially important for newer officers because much of prison culture is learned informally. Officers receive formal training, but they also learn by watching others — what gets laughed at, what gets ignored, what gets rewarded and what gets passed down as “how we do things here.” Some of those lessons are useful. Others need to be questioned.
The GNC list is one of those lessons.
Why professionalism means letting go
“You got nothing coming” should never become an excuse for unprofessional behavior. A correctional officer does not have to be liked by every inmate, but the officer is still responsible for managing every inmate within policy, procedure and professional expectations.
The ultimate test in corrections is not whether an officer can remember who caused problems. Every officer can do that. The real test is whether the officer can remember those problems without allowing them to control future decisions.
The GNC list may be a lesson many officers learn early in their careers, but it is also one they must eventually outgrow. Good officers do not forget what happens on a shift. They learn from it, document it when necessary, respond according to policy and stay alert. But they do not allow one bad shift, one difficult inmate or one frustrating assignment to turn their authority into personal score-settling.
That is the difference between surviving the culture and becoming a professional within it.