From scandal to scrutiny: How intense citizen oversight reshaped Oakland police

Groups in the Bay Area that have successfully sought to have police disciplined for misconduct and won new police-accountability policies have turned their form of organized monitoring into a training platform for protesters nationwide. Responding to widespread Black Lives Matter protests, groups like Berkeley Copwatch and Wecopwatch use online education to teach hundreds of activists nationwide how to use videotape archives to systematically document abuses, and how to perform the work of legal observers at protests. Those activities are meant to act as deterrents to abuse.

Through the San Antonio Mayor's Youth Engagement Council, students network with municipal officials, conduct research, and complete community-based projects to help them develop policy proposals around issues such as the climate crisis. Participants have organized workshops and collected food and hygiene donations to support vulnerable residents and say serving on the council has provided them a venue to work on issues that are important to them.

When Ann Arbor created a citizen panel overseeing its police department, it chose the approach that research shows is the one best suited to having real authority, and thus the most likely to reduce racial disparities in arrests and police shootings. It's too soon to know if the agency's investigations of complaints against police and review of police budgets and policies will achieve the ultimate goal of improving community trust in the police. But its chair says it is in a position to press for more accountability and transparency. East Lansing has just adopted the same model.

Three "historic firsts in policing reforms" show how attempts to root out systemic problems in policing can fail. In all three cases – federal intervention to curb civil rights abuses in Pittsburgh, a computerized early-warning system to spot abusive Los Angeles County sheriff's deputies, and rules put in place to reduce racial profiling in New Jersey traffic stops – bureaucratic and leadership failures, plus cultural resistance to change in police ranks, undermined early successes or good intentions. In all three cases, the problems persist decades later.

Five years after the FBI started tracking how often police use force, the majority of police departments still fail to comply and the FBI refuses to release publicly what information it has collected. The policy was enacted in response to the realization that no one had definitive data on how often the police kill people, use teargas, or other incidents of force. What little data exists showed racial disparities in whom police use force against. But compliance was made voluntary and the FBI made public release of the data contingent on 80% of police departments complying, a goal it's nowhere near.

In the more than five years since New York's governor ordered the attorney general to take charge of investigations and prosecutions when police kill unarmed people, only three police officers have been charged with crimes and none has been convicted. By taking control of such cases away from local prosecutors, officials hoped to instill greater trust in outcomes, because of the close ties local prosecutors have with local police. But the narrow scope of the rule establishing the special prosecutions unit, plus a host of other systemic and legal barriers, have meant that the outcomes have not changed.

After the South Carolina legislature in 2005 began requiring police to enforce a seat-belt law with traffic stops, it imposed on all police departments a duty to track and report traffic-stop data on drivers' race. The law was meant as a way to prevent biased policing, through public disclosure of disparities. But only about one-third of the state's law enforcement agencies have consistently complied with the law, and some never have. Some blame ignorance of how the system should work. But another explanation is the state has done little or nothing to enforce the law.

Once viewed as one of the nation's most brutal and corrupt police departments, New Orleans Police Department has earned steadily improving public support with a host of reforms. One reform that it took voluntarily, and in contrast with common practice in Louisiana, is to quickly release body-camera videos of police shootings and other uses of force. Though its effect is hard to untangle from other initiatives, video releases have become routine. In one case, a video prompted an official apology after proving rubber bullets were used against protesters. This helped lead to new restrictions on crowd control.

New York City established its Civilian Complaint Review board in 1993 to strengthen its police-discipline system, a response to complaints that police officers rarely were punished for harassment and brutality, especially in Black and brown neighborhoods. In 6,900 cases in which the board recommended the toughest punishment, however, police officials overruled it more than 70% of the time over the past two decades. The result is a disciplinary mechanism designed to instill trust but that instead "has become all but toothless" because of how it is structured and how police leaders responded to oversight.

Baltimore’s Safe Streets program, which uses a public-health approach to stopping the spread of community gun violence, mediated more than 1,800 conflicts in 2019 and is credited with preventing homicides altogether in one neighborhood, despite the city’s overall violent year. Since the program’s launch in 2007, studies have shown it to be effective in its use of “credible messengers” whose street savvy can be deployed to “interrupt” retaliatory violence. But the Baltimore program also illustrates tensions between such community-based programs and the police, especially when the police are corrupt.