Skip to main content

At Sunday debate, Trump still soft-headed on crime: Ellis Cose


Getting tough on crime has always been more about fueling racial resentment than protecting victims.

Before Donald Trump became the male chauvinist pig candidate, he was the “law and order” candidate. On the first day of his campaign, Trump denounced Mexican rapists and dopers spilling across the border. In his first debate with Hillary Clinton, he accused her of being afraid to even say “law and order.” Responding to the first question on Sunday’s debate, he returned to that theme, invoking the need to “bring back respect to law enforcement” and make America “safe.”

The law-and-order trope is inarguably potent. It is also disingenuous. And it fosters this wacky notion that the United States is in chaos when, in fact, violent crime is lower than it has been for decades. But never mind that. The argument for getting tough on crime has never been about reducing crime; it mostly has been about fueling racial resentments.

Running for president in 1968, Richard Nixon argued that “doubling the conviction rate … would do far more to cure crime in America than quadrupling” spending on poverty. Why feed people when you can arrest them? Why show compassion when you can crack heads? Why build up those you can demean? In a time of backlash against civil rights, voters understood that law and order was largely an indictment of a social movement — and a group of people — that many whites found repugnant.

In 1984, President Reagan similarly argued that the solution to crime was not reducing poverty: “Government’s function is to protect society from the criminal, not the other way around.”

Hillary Clinton apologized this year for invoking a discredited argument about juvenile black superpredators in defending the 1994 crime bill. Nonetheless, Trump scolded her for saying such a “terrible thing.” Then, bizarrely, he launched into a defense of stop-and-frisk, which, he argued, effectively took guns off the streets.

That is simply not true — not, at least, as it was practiced in New York. When stop-and-frisk was policy during the Bloomberg administration, police found guns in fewer than 0.2% of the stops, according to data unearthed by the New York Civil Liberties Union. What that policy did produce was tons of ill will between young men of color and cops. At its height, in 2011, police made 685,724 stops — the vast majority of black and Latino residents, roughly 90% of whom were perfectly innocent. “There were more stops of African-American youths between the ages of 18 and 24 than there were in the entire New York City population,” observed Christopher Dunn of the NYCLU. The tactic was disavowed by incoming mayor Bill de Blasio and sharply curtailed under Police Commissioner Bill Bratton, and the crime rate stayed down. So much for Trump’s faith in stop-and-frisk.

But then, Trump’s tough-on-crime talk never had much to do with crime or even justice. After five minority teenagers were arrested in the brutal rape of a jogger in Central Park in 1989, Trump made headlines with full-page ads calling for the death penalty. After years in prison, all of them were eventually exonerated and given restitution by the city, which Trump called “a disgrace.” In other words, he was angry that five innocent men of color finally found justice.

And tellingly, although he sort of apologized for his comments on women, he has continued to slander the Central Park Five.

Many politicians rejected Trump after his lewd tape was uncovered, citing concerns about their daughters. But few showed the same sense of outrage —  Sen. John McCain is a notable exception — over his comments about the Central Park Five out of concern for their sons. Perhaps people identify less with the five innocent non-white men. Or perhaps they see that side of Trump as toughness — not the bigoted ignorance that it is.

POLICING THE USA: A look at race, justice, media 

The world has learned a few things since Nixon mocked compassion. One big thing we have learned is that tough-on-crime policies, for the most part, are not tough on crime at all — and that compassion often works.

I recently returned from Norway, where I spent a day in Halden, the country’s showcase high-security prison. During a walk through the grounds with Are Høidal, the governor (or warden), I asked about the forest in the middle of the grounds. Prisoners sometimes went there to pick blueberries, explained Høidal, who pointed out that “access to nature” improved mental health.

Norway has (per capita), roughly one-tenth of the prisoners that we have in the United States. It has a recidivism rate that is a fraction of ours. “I think that there's something global about treating people with dignity that gets results,” explained Høidal.

Our get-tough policies get terrible results. They are tough on suspects (including those arrested yet not convicted) and soft-headed on crime. They turn people who make mistakes — particularly those who are minority and/or poor — into criminals. And yet politicians like Trump keep pushing these policies because, in the end, they are less interested in reducing (or being smart about) crime than in riding fear into office.

Ellis Cose, a member of Paste BN’s Board of Contributors and writer in residence for the American Civil Liberties Union, is the author of The Rage of a Privileged Class and The End of Anger.

You can read diverse opinions from our Board of Contributors and other writers on the Opinion front page, on Twitter @USATOpinion and in our daily Opinion newsletter. To submit a letter, comment or column, check our  submission guidelines .