Interest in Community Police Watch Training Soars as Courses Go Online

When New York legislators abolished a state law that had long shielded police officers’ disciplinary records from public scrutiny, they were not just responding to recent protests but also to activism over many years by reform advocates and families of victims of police violence. Long-running legal challenges had failed to pry the records loose. But activists – opposed by police unions and their allies – had used public testimony, publicity, and their families’ stories to lay the groundwork for changes that then came quickly after George Floyd’s death sparked nationwide protests of police brutality.

In what started as a series of posts on Twitter and evolved into a public database published by an investigative media outlet, Mediapart, a lone reporter documented police violence against France's Yellow Vest protesters in an act of accountability that had been neglected by other journalists and the government. David Dufresne's “Allô Place Beauvau” (a "hello" to France's interior ministry) documented 800 cases of police violence or misbehavior. Many of the cases came to Dufresne as tips from the public, which he then verified. His work was cited by French and international authorities.

The murder of Ahmaud Arbery sparked nationwide rage, but the people most affected by local racism felt it most keenly. A Better Glynn formed to seek reforms in Glynn County law enforcement after years of status-quo racism and resistance to change. The group worked with an existing group of Black pastors and other leaders and found success in the firing of the police chief, his replacement by the county's first Black chief, the district attorney's reelection defeat, and the beginnings of police reforms.

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.

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.

Since 2016, complaints filed against Oakland police officers have triggered parallel investigations by both the department's internal affairs unit and the city's Civilian Police Review Agency. When an outcome is disputed, the final decision is made by the Civilian Police Commission, a system that has resulted in the city sustaining complaints against officers at a rate more than double the state average between 2018 and 2020.

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.

Decades of advocacy for more effective civilian oversight of police-misconduct investigations in St. Louis finally resulted in a new oversight board created in the wake of the death of Michael Brown in nearby Ferguson. But that board has been rendered a "total failure" because the police found ways to keep steering investigations to their secret, internal investigative office and preventing prosecutors from working independently on investigations. A new mayor and a sympathetic prosecuting attorney promise to fix the structural flaws that have let the police continue to investigate themselves.

Since 2017, Seattle residents have had a direct say in how some city money is spent on neighborhood projects. It's a form of "participatory budgeting" that has been spreading from Brazil through many U.S. cities. After the 2020 racial justice protests, King County Equity Now, Decriminalize Seattle, and other groups spent several months calling for a budget that takes money from policing and invests in "true public health and safety" projects. After eight weeks of hearings, the city agreed to put $30 million – $12 million cut from police – into a citizen-controlled safety budget.

By framing their police-reform proposal as an investment in community services rather than a bid to take money away from policing, the Re-Imagine L.A. County coalition of racial and criminal justice advocacy groups won voter approval for what could be the most significant realignment of public safety spending since the 2020 policing protests began. Los Angeles County voters approved Measure J, which mandates that the county allocate 10% of its $8.8 billion discretionary local budget to "direct community investment," and not to law enforcement. The Sheriff's Department accounts for $2 billion of that budget.