Thank goodness for an enlightened view on the treatment of prisoners

In Barlinnie, this served as a catalyst for some modest changes. Selected prison officer volunteers took on a more "welfarist" approach in dealing with the resident population. This freed up social work time to deal with more complex cases, almost always involving families on the outside. This worked well, prompting inmates to dub said prison officers "the Care Bears".

During my time there I came to the conclusion that a substantial percentage of inmates fell into the categories of hopeless, hapless, feckless and inept. The category of offence and length of sentence did not necessarily reflect the personalities of the inmates I saw every day in B Hall. Indeed, the only inmate I can recall that intuitively I had reservations about, was serving just 30 days for non-payment of a fine.

There have been so many false dawns over the years with regard to penal reforms, usually down to the lack of investment by whichever political party is in power, combined with an equal lack of community-based alternatives to custody.

Deprivation of liberty is a terrible thing and not a soft option.

I can only hope that when the replacement for Barlinnie is ready, Mr Stoney and his staff are supported and enabled by those who are in power at that time to demonstrate to politicians and public alike that his views as expressed in the article can and do work.

I wish him and his team well, but fear it may be a Sisyphean task.

Ann Ross-McCall, Glasgow.

Trouble behind the bar

I HAVE utmost respect and sympathy for Brendan Keenan (Letters, July 17) for being brave enough to speak out on the topic of noise pollution in bars. He is certainly not a grumpy old man, rather he is obviously someone with an eye (sorry, "ear") for detail.

There have been many, many times when I too have had my tatties tattered by inconsiderate staff. As Mr Keenan so rightly points out, launching a ballistic bottle into a bin is not very courteous, especially when the listener is feeling like a broken bottle himself after having broken open a few too many the night before.

There is also the barperson who has obviously caught that most insidious combination of hospitality viruses: apathy and arrogance. You know the type: the barkeep who thinks it's okay to look at you, nod at you and grunt at you, "Two minutes" and return to their obviously much more important text that must of course be dealt with immediately.

And what about the type of bartender who is a little lacking in the hygiene department? The kind who bites their nails or, even worse, scrapes them down their teeth and then grabs a glass by its rim to pour a drink for a poor unsuspecting punter – often picking up a couple of chunks of ice to add to said glass.

There is one more habit that makes me want to hurl my haggis at the gantry, although, to be fair, they are a bit more thin on the ground. This is the barperson who takes your cash and asks: "Do you want your change back?" Many of my friends (yes, I do have some) might try to persuade you that I am as tight as two coats of paint when it comes to parting with my hard-earned, but I can assure you this is not the case. I take delight in proffering tips to those who serve me, but let me decide, don't put me in the position of saying "Yes thanks" and making me appear like a parsimonious, penny-pinching personage.

Due to these lapses in standards, I rarely venture out to hostelries any more, preferring to stay home with a "cairry-oot" of my own choice and to read quality writing supplied by the likes of your illustrious correspondent, Mr Keenan. Slainte!

Gordon Fisher, Stewarton.

Read more: Why has Johnstone's vibrant church been condemned by Kirk leaders?

A love for tennis tradition

I THINK that Alan Fitzpatrick's tongue must have been firmly implanted in his cheek when he raised the issue re the tennis scoring system (Letters, July 18). He quoted "apart from the tradition" – ie, the very essence of the establishment of said system. The preservation of long-term historical basics must be preserved.

Derek B Petrie, Milngavie.

Driving a hard bargain

TO cheer up Doug Marr, who inevitably finds himself on the back foot when dealing with car salesmen ("Buying a car is driving me round the bend", The Herald, July 17), at the start of a test drive some years ago I remarked to the salesman that it must be quite stressful being driven by a driver whose competence is unknown. He put me at ease and said that had never been a problem.

After a 20-minute test some years ago coping with a stop-start feature unfamiliar to myself and some of Ayr’s more challenging roundabouts we ended back at the showroom fortunately unscathed, with the quivering salesman wiping his brow and asking: “Doc, have you any tranquilisers you could gie me?”

With myself now in the driving seat: “OK, I’m ready to deal.”

R Russell Smith, Largs.

Numbers game

JOHN Crawford’s letter (July 15) reminded me of queuing for transport at Paisley Road Toll one day in the long ago.

In their best days a Glasgow tramcar indicated its route by a coloured band around its upper deck panels. Then, progress – service numbers took over, that from Bellahouston via the Toll to Riddrie and Millerston becoming number 7, later all the different colour bands morphed into green, and then of course the trams were replaced by largely-unloved trolleybuses.

A man in the queue asked a wee Glasgow biddy how he could get to Bridgeton Cross, and was puzzled by her reply: “Nae boather, son, a yella caur – here's wan comin’ the noo”, and lo, there was a smart number 106 trolleybus gliding towards our stop.

Ian Maclean, Bishopton.