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What draws a person to topics most people rather avoid?

JV: It was curiosity that brought me to these issues and I’ve been looking for students who share it. When I started my research, few people focused on these topics. But I think topics that are deliberately not given attention, like homelessness or incarceration, are the best test of how a society treats people on its margins. That’s where you see most clearly whether we’re inclined to help or to despise.

LD: I grew up in Horní Slavkov near Karlovy Vary, where the local prison dominates the town. I used to jog and walk my dog around it, and the world behind those walls always fascinated me. Gradually, I wanted to understand how people there live and work. Many of my acquaintances worked in the prison, and I heard stories that were hard to believe. That’s what made me want to explore that environment more deeply.

What have you learned from each other professionally and personally?

LD: Jan focuses on religion, I study prisons, so our areas of expertise naturally came together. We’ve learned a lot from each other, and the collaboration works. And I hope it will continue.

JV: I’ve learned patience from Lukáš. The best students I’ve ever taught shared one trait: a certain level of defiance. I’ve also learned a lot from him factually — he went much deeper into prison-related topics than I ever did.

How do you research such topics and collect data? Does it take a lot of patience?

JV: It’s hard work. You need plenty of time, endless patience, and since these aren’t exactly popular topics, it’s also hard to secure funding.

LD: Yes, and if we have all of that, there are two main approaches. The quantitative way is through questionnaires, which we can send to prisons. But I prefer qualitative research and direct contact. I regularly visit prisons, talk with inmates, observe their everyday life, and try to understand the world behind bars.

It sounds like fieldwork plays a big role. What has struck you most or changed your view of people?

LD: My view of prisons has changed dramatically in both directions. You meet people with tragic stories, some who’ve committed unspeakable crimes, but I’ve learned not to judge. Often, you find that offenders were once victims themselves. At the same time, I’ve probably become a bit numb, stories of violence or murder no longer shock me as they once did.

JV: I was surprised to find students willing to study such topics, even entering places where not even the police like to go. The other thing that moved me was seeing human pain reflected in social structures. Every personal tragedy has wider social consequences.

How do you study such painful life stories and still keep some emotional distance? Do you first have to earn people’s trust to get them to open up?

JV: Trust is essential, without it, no one will talk to you. That’s why I teach my students that people we study are not objects but partners. Sociology can reveal hidden realities, but we mustn’t fall for the illusion that we can save the world. It’s about balancing between excessive idealism and cynicism — between wanting to fix everything and believing nothing can be done.

LD: Building trust in prison is extremely difficult. If you’re lucky enough to be allowed in, you only have a few hours, which are not enough to truly earn it. So I approach the environment and the people with respect. I don’t judge, I don’t act superior, and I genuinely care about their stories. So far, hardly anyone has refused to talk to me.

What’s the connection between your research and the region? What does it mean for the Pilsen area?

LD: We’re both closely tied to Pilsen, and we’ve done a lot of research in the local prison. But incarceration is a nationwide phenomenon, and our findings have a broader relevance.

JV: Yes, on the regional level, we focused mainly on homelessness. That research actually inspired the idea of a so-called “wet house” in Pilsen, which is housing for people with alcohol dependence. Thanks to our data, the project got approved, and the city adopted a broader homelessness strategy. My advice: keep following that plan.

A common theme in your research is religion. How do you study faith in a country that’s mostly secular?

LD: Surprisingly well, at least in prisons. The approach to faith there is very different from in mainstream society. I’m not saying everyone’s a believer, but the proportion of people identifying with faith is much higher. Religion often serves as a support system — it helps inmates cope with guilt, seek reconciliation, and find a new direction. Of course, some treat it instrumentally, but even that can be a step toward change.

JV: Yes, for some prisoners faith is more of a tool — a way to speed up their return to freedom. But for those serving long sentences, faith often turns into a deep inner process. The Czech environment is unique in this sense: we have many sociologists who study religion, but we’ve started examining it in settings where it hadn’t been studied before, among homeless people and prisoners. Interestingly, we found that marginalized groups are not necessarily more religious than the rest of society.

If you had to sum up what keeps you in this work in one sentence, what would it be?

LD: I keep learning new things. Every visit to a prison shows me a different side of that world. There’s always something that surprises me. Recently, I realized how deeply rooted our prejudices are, even when we think we’re open-minded. I go there as a researcher, but I know I wouldn’t want to live there.

JV: What keeps me going is curiosity. The urge to understand what’s behind the surface and how things work. And the belief that through research and our work at the university, we can help change at least something.