It was, by any standard, a fair cop. Neither his wealth nor his standing as a lawyer protected Christopher Lumsden from lunatic rage at his wife’s infidelity; he stabbed her to death and was sentenced to prison.

Now, however, with his release imminent, he has been nabbed again: this time snitched to the press by busybodies who cannot bear him lending his professional skills to a Derbyshire legal centre and even - get this - popping out for ice cream at lunchtime. I mean, cushy or what? It never seems to occur to those who hate the idea that a convict might benefit from such an arrangement that there is a corollary: so do we. We paid for his education; if he does his time banged up, rather than advising the unfortunate, it is we who are deprived of a return on our investment.

There is something self-defeatingly mealy-mouthed about filling our prisons to bursting point and then leaving inmates idle when they could, instead, be useful. It varies from nick to nick, but typically they may sweep, clean, perhaps transcribe books into Braille and earn an average £7 a week. Only, however, if they are in Category D “open” prisons, as is Lumsden, may they work outside the walls - such a silly waste of skills already learnt and of opportunity to learn more.

In the US, by contrast, utilising such skills is integral to the economy. Some critics in this country claim to be appalled by the ritual of public humiliation as afforded to Boy George or Naomi Campbell - both required to don overalls under spotlight - but their punishments, based as they were upon hubris, were exceptional.

For the most part, as here, prisoners are ill-educated, unskilled louts and if packing them three to a stinking cell gratifies the baser instincts of the purse-lipped, in the long term it helps nobody. So, where reasonably possible, it doesn’t happen.

As a frequent visitor to America, I am accustomed to seeing happy chappies with State Penitentiary stamped across their backs busying themselves, for instance, with clearing undergrowth from roadsides while, almost incongruously, other huge, grizzled lags stoop to plant flowers in its place.

In some states, prison labour rented to farmers - with a small cut to the orange-clad workers - means the prisons actually run at a profit, rather than being a drain on local funds. And the prisoners themselves? Far from hangdog, they are visibly chipper; passing drivers honk merrily and even throw the odd wodge of tobacco their way. In short: win-win.

The downside, of course - and properly unthinkable here - is that although it is kept discreet, the convicts know that their overseer does carry a real gun in his pocket. But out there, in fresh air and sunshine, I prefer to think he’s just pleased to see them.

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