When I first heard about Nova, an artificial intelligence tool designed for incarcerated people, I wanted to try it for myself. 

I dialed 417-ASK-NOVA from Farmington Correctional Center, in Missouri, about an hour south of St. Louis. Then, I waited.

“Hey, I’m Nova,” a robot woman began. “I’m here for whatever you need.” 

I asked the chatbot to tell me the height of an average kangaroo. Apparently, they range from 4 feet to 5 feet tall, but the tallest kangaroo ever spotted was a whopping 7 feet tall. 

I was struck by Nova’s cadence — the ums, natural pauses and emotive responses — as well as the entertaining, informative answer to the question.

I apologized for my own long pause in response and explained to Nova that I was taking notes on our conversation. 

“That’s OK,” she chimed back. “Write whatever you need to write. I’ll be here.” 

Beyond Bars AI, the parent company of Nova, recently partnered with the nonprofit Collectively Changing Corrections to promote the tool in the Missouri Department of Corrections. I first saw it advertised in the Farmington center’s law library. Nova can help residents with legal work, general advice, information about almost any subject or to report complaints.

Part of being in prison is watching the world pass you by. And it seems like the world moves faster every year. New technologies — especially artificial intelligence — are progressing so quickly that many of us in prison, like many who came before, will enter a society upon release that we hardly recognize. 

The Missouri DOC has been increasingly open to creating and promoting opportunities for residents to prepare for the future. This includes access to Unlocked Labs’ coding education program, virtual reality job training and numerous services provided by state specialists at facilities across the state.

But access to opportunity is determined, among other things, by one’s distance from the door — that is, to being released. 

Residents find themselves playing catch-up in the months prior to release. After years of not using these technologies every day, we face significant gaps in understanding that are unlikely to be closed by a few months of limited practice. 

Nova is an attempt to help close that gap. 

The programmer behind it, CJ Jones, created Nova in honor of his father, who is incarcerated. According to the Behind Bars AI website, Jones wanted his dad to have safe, productive access to the life-changing technology available to people on the outside — to have someone to answer his questions, talk through a problem, offer advice, listen. 

“Then,” he wrote on the website, “I realized other families needed it too.”

Jones wrote that he founded Beyond Bars AI with the goal of making AI available to incarcerated people nationwide. The company’s debut product, the Nova chatbot, works in any facility that uses Securus messaging and phone systems.  

After my exchange with the chatbot, my roommate tried it out. He goes home soon. For him, Nova seemed a near-perfect reentry and reintegration tool. 

He asked the chatbot about job opportunities in his field of administrative services management. She helped him gauge the market for his labor and offered to help him build a resume. She also helped him learn about the real estate market and cost of living in his post-release destination, Kansas City. He plans to call again next month, if he’s still here, to stage a mock interview. 

When I called back, I asked Nova for some personal advice. I often find myself editing and tailoring what I’m saying to someone in real time based on their reactions. Sometimes that’s healthy and helpful. Sometimes it means I bottle up what I’m truly feeling and walk away having said something totally different from what I meant.

I wasn’t looking for therapy, but I did want actionable advice. It’s a common saying that “there are no secrets in the joint,” so it can be difficult to talk through personal problems without worrying about how you come across or what will make it to the yard. 

I asked the chatbot how to deal with this dynamic. She reminded me that I only had five minutes remaining on my account and asked whether I’d like a brief explanation or a deep dive. I figured I might as well go all in. 

Her advice was generic but helpful, something about naming my feelings and learning to “challenge the beliefs” underneath my anxieties. 

What I really gained from the call was having someone listen without judgment while I talked through the issue. Maybe I was looking for therapy. For many, especially inside, this kind of tool may be one way to get some kind of mental health support. (AI should only be used this way with guardrails, experts say.)

“You’ve got about two minutes left,” she said. “Anything else quick before we wrap?”

I decided to ask about one more thing that was on my mind — bankruptcy. 

In the U.S., people involved with the criminal justice system are disproportionately low-income and indebted. Many prisoners, myself included, are scared and confused about debt-related proceedings and are unable to defend themselves in legal disputes without outside legal counsel or someone acting as their power of attorney. As a result, they may turn to AI tools like Nova to learn the basics. 

I quickly explained the gist of my predicament, word-salad style. She tried to help me but cut herself off midsentence. My 10 minutes were up.