In the Netherlands, a unique architectural and social experiment is underway. Vacant prison cells, once designed to hold criminals, are being repurposed into homes for refugees seeking safety from conflict-ridden nations. This initiative represents a pragmatic approach to both declining crime rates and the global refugee crisis.
Since 2010, the Netherlands has experienced a significant shift in its criminal justice landscape. With the crime rate consistently decreasing by about 0.9 percent every year, the country found itself with an abundance of empty facilities. According to Tom Coggins of Culture Trip, the Dutch legal system increasingly favors alternatives to incarceration, such as fines or electronic monitoring devices that allow the government to track individuals without the need for traditional confinement.
Professor René van Zwarningen of the Erasmus School of Law notes that the Dutch are inherently "practical people." Unlike nations that focus heavily on the moral justifications for imprisonment, the Netherlands prioritizes "what works." When prisons became an unnecessary financial burden, the government chose to repurpose them rather than let them remain idle.
As Dutch prisons emptied, Europe faced a massive influx of displaced people fleeing war and instability in countries such as Syria, Afghanistan, South Sudan, Iraq, and Somalia. In 2015 alone, the Netherlands received over 60,000 refugees. To manage this humanitarian challenge, the Central Agency for the Reception of Asylum Seekers (COA) launched a creative housing strategy: converting these unused prisons into temporary living centers.
Transforming a prison into a home required significant physical and social modifications. While the buildings retain their original "thick" walls, "heavy locks," and "gates," the environment has been softened to foster a sense of normalcy. The COA removed walls, planted gardens, and combined cells to create larger living spaces for families.
These centers are not prisons in practice. Residents are free to "ride a bicycle" or leave the premises to navigate the local community, provided they inform the staff for safety reasons. Furthermore, the facilities now include spaces for residents to "cook food, exercise and take language and computer classes," assisting them in their transition toward becoming future citizens of the Netherlands.
Initially, the concept of housing refugees in former prisons was met with skepticism. Muhammad Muhaizen, a photographer for the Associated Press, admitted he "could not imagine anything but a prison" when he first heard of the project. He feared the psychological impact on refugees. However, after spending a month visiting three different centers, his perspective shifted entirely. He observed that the centers could be "considered beautiful in the way different people live together," noting that these spaces serve as a microcosm where "the whole world is represented."
For individuals like Naza, a refugee from Syria, the transition to a new culture was undoubtedly difficult. Yet, through engagement with the community—attending classes and seeking employment—he found that he could "start to fit in." While living in a repurposed prison is not a perfect long-term solution, it serves as a functional bridge for refugees. By providing a safe space to learn the Dutch language and culture, the Netherlands is transforming structures of confinement into foundations for new beginnings.