The book Jail Time describes Con Air as "never fast, never comfortable, and never efficient." In an awful slog of a process known as "Diesel Therapy," prisoners take short trips that take a long time. Travel is only permitted during the day, and covering a distance of 200 or 300 miles can take up to 10 days. In the interim, prisoners must be booked at different facilities, frisked, and strip-searched. Before leaving in the morning, they go through the onerous routine again. This can go on for months.
Inmates never receive advance notice. A guard might wake them up before the butt crack of dawn and tell them to get ready for their new home. There's no chance to contact loved ones who may be planning on visiting. Conditions on the plane can be demeaning. Prisoners using the restroom must relieve themselves with the door open.
In a piece for the Marshall Project, ex-convict turned ordained rabbi Michael Rothenberg recalls what he calls "the hell that is" Diesel Therapy. He says he landed on a very-unmerry-go-round of prison transfers after angering guards during an interrogation about an escaped inmate. Rothenberg writes that during one of his stints on Con Air, a guard refused to let a prisoner use the bathroom and then tased him for wetting himself. The flights were interspersed with rides on buses, one of which had an overflowing toilet. An unfortunately fitting metaphor for the U.S. prison system.