Oregon's prisons are facing a sweeping new challenge to one of their most entrenched practices: solitary confinement. A new class action lawsuit filed in Oregon state court on behalf of hundreds of people held in solitary across the Oregon Department of Corrections (ODOC) claims that what the state labels as segregation and special housing is, in reality, extreme isolation that serves little legitimate purpose and violates basic human dignity.
Life in the Hole
The complaint sketches a stark picture of solitary confinement in Oregon's prisons. People typically spend "23 to 24 hours a day" in a small cell, often without a window, eating, sleeping, and using the toilet in the same cramped space under bright lights that stay on most of the day. On weekends, holidays, or during lockdowns, they may remain there for "48 hours or more," surrounded by the sounds of others in crisis--screaming, crying, or banging on doors--with bare walls, concrete or steel fixtures, and a heavy solid door as their only view. Ordinary experiences like walking more than a few steps, seeing the sky, or speaking to another person face‑to‑face become rare.
That isolation is social as well as physical. Plaintiffs describe abrupt, prolonged cuts to phone access when they are sent to segregation; even after bans lift, a brief daily window of about 40 minutes on some weekdays must cover calls, showers, and any exercise. Visits are sharply restricted and non‑contact, usually through thick glass with the person in restraints. Parents lose touch with children, partners see loved ones disappear from their lives, and families navigate serious illness and death with almost no contact.
Even out‑of‑cell time offers little relief. According to the complaint, recreation often takes place alone in concrete or chain‑link enclosures with high walls, minimal sunlight, and no equipment. Many people get, at best, about 40 minutes of such time on some weekdays, and others get even less. Those facing additional discipline can lose nearly all recreation and phone use, leaving their cells only three times a week for 10‑minute showers. Movement through the unit requires multiple officers to escort them, using handcuffs, leg irons, or tethers, and some people report being mocked as "doggy" or "puppy" while on these leashes.
Health Consequences
The complaint centers on how solitary confinement destabilizes people's minds and bodies. It alleges that isolation in these units triggers or worsens mental illness and other conditions: depression, anxiety, PTSD, hallucinations, panic attacks, and suicidal thoughts. One plaintiff calls solitary "the lowest point in my life," saying that if he had to choose between being shot again and going back to solitary, he "would get shot again." Another, who has spent years cycling in and out of isolation, describes how solitary is "built to try to break [him]" and says he has started to hear voices and talk uncontrollably to himself. A woman at Coffee Creek reports that in solitary, "I feel like I am losing my mind."
At the same time, the lawsuit says the system offers little meaningful mental health care in response. Clinicians often stop briefly at the cell door, with no privacy and no real therapy. People report repeated requests for help that result only in cursory check‑ins focused on whether they are actively suicidal.
For those with disabilities, the complaint adds another layer. Wheelchair users are housed in cells and showers they cannot safely navigate. People with serious vision impairments are cut off from the tools they need to read legal and program materials. Deaf or hard‑of‑hearing individuals are shut out of announcements and sign‑language video calls on equal terms. Together, the plaintiffs argue, these practices both harm mental health and deny people with disabilities equal access to basic prison programs and a fair chance to get out of solitary at all.
'Unnecessary Rigor'
The case hinges on Article I, section 13 of the Oregon Constitution, which says people who are arrested, or confined in jail, cannot be treated with "unnecessary rigor," a protection Oregon courts have applied to incarcerated people challenging prison conditions. Oregon courts interpret that clause to bar "cognizable indignities" that are not justified by necessity, including "harsh, degrading, or dehumanizing" treatment, and the plaintiffs say ODOC's solitary regime fits that bill.
The plaintiffs point out that the Oregon Department of Corrections has already turned at least one former solitary unit into a behavioral‑health unit with more out‑of‑cell time and programming. Additionally, other jurisdictions have reduced or ended long‑term solitary through less isolating separation units. Because of this, the plaintiffs argue, Oregon's near‑total isolation cannot be called "necessary." On their account, that makes the current system unconstitutional under the state's own charter.
Who's Covered and What's at Stake
The lawsuit is a proposed class action led by plaintiff Dominique Jenkins‑Millage. The five named plaintiffs aim to represent all class members in ODOC custody who are now, or will be in the future, subjected to the department's solitary confinement policies. They also seek to represent a subclass of people with physical disabilities that substantially limit major life activities (such as mobility, vision, or hearing) who are or will be placed in solitary.
The relief they request is sweeping. They ask the court to declare that ODOC's solitary confinement program violates the Oregon Constitution's Unnecessary Rigor Clause and the state's disability‑rights statute. They also ask for a court order overhauling how solitary is used: ending extreme isolation, expanding safe out‑of‑cell time, increasing human contact and family communication, and restoring access to programming, mental health care, and outdoor exercise.
The plaintiffs want solitary units made accessible to people with disabilities, along with meaningful accommodations so those individuals can use programs and work their way out of isolation on equal terms. To make these changes stick, they ask for ongoing monitoring and reporting--aiming not for minor tweaks, but for a fundamental redesign of the Oregon Department of Corrections' use of solitary confinement.
The coming months will tell whether this becomes just another prison‑conditions case, or the beginning of the end of long‑term solitary in Oregon's state prisons.
