When communities try to hold police accountable, law enforcement fights back

One-third to half of those killed by police are disabled, a recent report says. “Our problem isn’t with police,” one mental health advocate says, but both sides say officers need more training.

Police departments across the United States are implementing strategies and reforms in response to the growing number of unsolved criminal cases. With cold cases often linked to declined trust in police and the undermining of wellbeing in, typically urban, neighborhoods, these reforms are seeking to reverse course.

The Law Enforcement Assisted Diversion (LEAD) program in Alamosa, Colorado, gives police officers the option of sending people to substance abuse treatment rather than straight into the criminal justice system. Used in non-violent cases, the diversion program is based on a harm-reduction model that uses a health-care approach rather than a punitive approach to address the underlying issues when a crime is committed. Some police officers object to the program's mission, but proponents say that forcing compliance would be counterproductive.

More than 2,700 police departments in the U.S. have crisis intervention teams aimed at responding to mental health crises with fewer arrests and less violence, but the death of Daniel Prude in Rochester police custody offers clear lessons in the shortcomings and misuse of the CIT model. A lack of adequate mental health services across the country, coupled with superficial training of the police, too often means a police response to a crisis will not de-escalate the situation or lead to meaningful help for the person in crisis. A recent study found CITs have not shown they will lower violence.

Crime-tracking mobile apps give millions of Brazilians crowdsourced data on urban violence, alerting people to dangerous places and filling gaps in government data on shootings, robberies, and other risks. But apps such as Fogo Cruzado (“Crossfire”) and Onde Tem Tiroteio (“Where There's a Shooting”) offer statistically crude glimpses of crime, distorted by media and racial biases that one expert blames for myths about the risks people actually face.

The Violence Against Women Act was billed as a way to make a patriarchal society, and policing profession in particular, take domestic violence more seriously. It encouraged policies making arrest of alleged abusers mandatory, even to the point of punishing victims who refused to cooperate in prosecutions. This has backfired on many victims, especially women of color who distrust police and their punitive approaches to solving family problems. The law also prioritizes punitive approaches in its awarding of federal grants, thus denying victim aid to women who do not wish to cooperate with arrests.

Frustrated by a tight labor market, two locally owned Grand Rapids employers discovered the virtues – economic, not just moral – of hiring formerly incarcerated people, whose gratitude for an opportunity translated into excellent performance and less risk of adding to rapid turnover. The employers helped guarantee success by paying for support services that made post-prison transitions easier. The employers then talked hundreds of other local employers into doing the same. Besides providing a business advantage, the program changes lives and is evidently contributing to much lower rates of recidivism.

CAHOOTS has become a national model because of its uncommon partnership with the Eugene Police Department. The police chief says CAHOOTS' unarmed first responders to mental health crises can de-escalate crises before crimes occur or someone gets hurt. That's the idea behind the decades-old agency that takes calls where police can sometimes cause worse outcomes. The crisis intervention workers and medics treat people on the scene or transport them to places where they can get the help they need. Police are available but rarely needed for safety on those calls.

Thunder Bay police formed IMPACT (Integrated Mobile Police Assessment Crisis Team), pairing crisis responders with mental health expertise with police officers to respond 24/7 to people experiencing mental health crises. Instead of defaulting to police responses, which risk the use of force and often land people in custody or a hospital, the teams often are able to get people connected to needed social and health services. So far the team has managed to divert about 40 percent of calls to helping services.

During the pandemic, indigenous communities received massive federal funding through the 2020 Coronavirus Aid, the 2021 American Rescue Plan Act, and the Relief and Economic Security Act for a number of needs, like infrastructure and tribal housing improvements. Many indigenous entities received smaller funds too. But COVID exacerbated several long-pending and neglected issues, local officials and tribal members say, and the funding does not sufficiently address them in the longterm.