You have no doubt seen the news reports on prison overcrowding across the UK, and probably watched some pretty gripping prison dramas on TV.

So, I reckon you will have a grasp of what our staff do. I thought that too.

Anyone who has ever set foot in St Andrew’s House or Victoria Quay will be able to tell you how much the civil service, of which I was a member, loves a briefing.

Carefully crafted, cleverly informed pieces of paper slide from desk to desk, and it is credible to believe you can learn a lot about any subject from such fact-filled documents – including about prisons.

So, when I left the Scottish Government to join the Scottish Prison Service, just over a year ago, I came prepared (I had even been in to visit prisons and enjoyed the odd TV drama too). I was informed.

Or at least, I thought I was.

Because while there is much to learn in the corridors of the Scottish Government, there is so much more you can only learn from the corridors of C Hall in Perth, or Hermiston in Edinburgh, in Dumfries, Stirling, Barlinnie, or Inverness. And, throughout all our prisons, seeing the committed and caring dedication of our staff to the very varied and complex people in our care.

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Until then, you do not appreciate the simmering tensions that can erupt in a moment; the way humour is used to defuse a situation, or alternatively an authoritative command, calmly spoken; the split-second decision-making in a moment of crisis; or the patient work with an individual who takes years to finally open up.

And you certainly cannot understand the diverse and highly skilled role that prison officers, and all those working in establishments, carry out on a daily basis.

There is a tendency, in the public and in the media, to refer to our staff as “wardens” or “guards”. But those are not words I recognise when I see the work of the staff within Scotland’s prisons. I see people who care, who build relationships, and can get through to some of the most challenging people in our society.

What many people imagine the work of a prison officer entails will be true. Honestly, yes our staff can and do face violence and threats from some of the most dangerous individuals in society, in some cases on a daily basis.

The work our officers do is challenging enough, and as you have seen in the media, with high and increasing population, and the risks and relationships of our growing serious and organised crime population, it is right now even more so.

The drones that attempt to navigate their way to people in our care are loaded with tens of thousands of pounds of illicit substances.

If one gets in, and the contents quickly spread around those in our care, the consequences can be awful.

Suddenly, several people have access to substances and no way of knowing what is really inside them. The impact on their health can be devastating. They may start fighting or alternatively require an ambulance immediately. Imagine going to your workplace every day knowing that could happen at any moment.

The work our officers do is challenging The work our officers do is challenging (Image: PA Archive/PA Images)

In many ways, this is similar to the challenge faced by our police, firefighters, and paramedics. But those services are perhaps more visible, out on the streets, lights flashing, and sirens blazing.

Because prisons are largely out of the public’s eye, and the majority of the population do not encounter them on a regular basis, our staff’s work is hidden. This is why they are Hidden Heroes and why, every year, we mark Hidden Heroes Day, which this year falls on 25 September.

So, the resilience, courage, and calmness under pressure of our staff is every bit as impressive as I hope people imagine it to be. But they also do so much more. And let me tell you about the side you are less likely to see on news reports or TV dramas.

Even in such challenging environments, maximum numbers, tension, risk, and complexity, our staff find the capacity for a level of care, compassion, and empathy that is truly remarkable and inspires me on a daily basis.

People in our care can be violent, but we are also seeing more and more people with serious physical and mental health problems.

We have a growing proportion of older prisoners in our care, needing more mobility and social care support.

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Many of these people will have an offending history that would elicit little sympathy from the general public, which I understand. But is the job of our staff to look after all the people who end up in our prisons.

And our staff, amidst all the noise and tensions of prison life, find a level of compassion which is extraordinary.

Officers work with people regardless of their backstory to try and find a way for them to rehabilitate. They work with people who are scared, who have never understood let alone addressed why they do what they do, and people with complex layers upon layers of trauma, learned behaviours, and who otherwise lack support.

They care for people many of us, understandably, don’t care about, and they do that despite the risk and the challenge. And they do it every single day, not just today.

Our staff do it knowing that not all lives can be turned around, and that there’s often not time to work with every individual despite the wish to. Offending histories, complex addictions, mental health problems, and years of trauma are all powerful head winds to walk head on into.

But we know that every life saved, every mother, father, son, or daughter successfully returned to their families in the community, is testimony to their work and that of the partners we work with across social work, NHS, third sector, which is rightly applauded today. So today, one year into my experience in Scotland’s prison service, I continue to be inspired, and grateful for the work of our staff – hidden heroes.

Linda Pollock is deputy chief executive of the Scottish Prison Service