By Christine Rosen
Saturday, February 13, 2021
American liberalism is in a strong position to dominate
cultural and political life in the United States for the near future, with Joe
Biden in the White House and the Democratic Party in control of both houses of
Congress. The cultural and media elites are, for now, united in their
conviction that they have saved democracy and that the future is theirs. And
yet, a serious challenge to this new liberal ascendancy could be coming, one
similar in kind to the circumstances that knocked liberalism back on its heels
in the 1960s—its inability to address or mitigate an increase in crime,
particularly violent crime, and arrest the decline of civic order. In their
eagerness to remake the criminal-justice system, defund police, and abolish
prisons, today’s liberal leaders and activists appear to have forgotten the
lessons of a previous era—and like their 1960s forebearers, prefer to denounce
opponents of their agenda and forestall the difficult conversations about
tradeoffs rather than confront the very real anxieties and fears many Americans
are expressing about safety and disorder.
To understand the threat these ideas pose to the rosy
Democratic future, we need to take a hard look at the overcast American past.
When crime began its decades-long upward spiral in the 1960s, liberalism’s leading proponents seemed unable or unwilling to address the problem. Some ignored it; others claimed the issue was not about crime but about the need for more expansive social-welfare programs; and still others actively denounced citizens’ demands for law and order as motivated by racism. At the same time, a series of decisions from the U.S. Supreme Court placed new restrictions on law enforcement and created new rights for criminal defendants in decisions such as Escobedo and Miranda, contributing to the sense among many Americans that the state and the dominant culture had become more concerned with protecting the rights of criminals than the safety and property of ordinary law-abiding Americans.
“Street crime” became not just a terrifying reality for
urban dwellers in particular but a national political issue—a rallying cry for
the right and the subject of rationalization by the left that provided yet
another justification for expanding federal spending on social welfare.
Culturally, the liberal elite doubled down on its defense of the accused and
even glamorized violence and criminal behavior—a tendency that had grown so
pronounced that by 1970, Tom Wolfe memorably was skewering it as “radical chic”
in his portrait of the fundraiser Leonard Bernstein had hosted for the Black
Panthers in his lavish New York City penthouse apartment.
For most Americans, the harsh realities of a decades-long
crime wave could not be wished away over canapés. The homicide rate doubled
between 1960 and 1980, and in general, all felonious crime, such as rape,
assault, robbery, and theft, rose steadily. By the 1980s, in cities where crack
(which radically lowered the financial cost of getting an aggressive high from
cocaine) dominated the drug trade, the breakdown of social order played out
daily with often deadly consequences. The government’s responsibility to keep
its citizens safe was properly viewed as a promise betrayed—and Democrats at
the local and national level paid the price at the polls for many years for
their unwillingness to confront the issue. It wasn’t merely scared white folk
who were concerned about rising crime; people of color who lived in poor
neighborhoods were far more likely to be the victims of crime than anxious
suburbanites and had long expressed concerns for their safety. As civil-rights
leader A. Philip Randolph said in 1964, “while there may be law and order
without freedom, there can be no freedom without law and order.”
Politicians who failed to appear tough on crime were
viewed as dangerously out of touch. Democrats learned this lesson during
Michael Dukakis’s disastrous run for president in 1988, when he was the target
of an ad paid for by a PAC that supported George H.W. Bush. The ad featured Willie
Horton, who was serving a life sentence for brutally murdering a teenage
gas-station clerk during a robbery (he stabbed Joseph Fournier 19 times before
stuffing his body in a garbage can) and who was granted a weekend furlough by
Massachusetts only to go on a crime spree, including armed robbery, assault,
and rape, before being captured. Dukakis had supported the furlough program as
governor of Massachusetts.
Dukakis was also famously an opponent of the death
penalty, and it was significant that after his defeat, his party chose a
candidate who actually left the campaign trail and flew home to Arkansas to be
present in his home state for the execution of a death-row prisoner. By 1994,
that Democratic president, Bill Clinton, joined with a Democratic senator named
Joe Biden to lead a liberal charge for law and order with the 1994 Crime Bill.
Biden himself claimed that the legislation would “lock Willie Horton up in
jail.”
A quarter century later, Biden ran a presidential
campaign in which he relied heavily on his record as an old Washington hand and
for the most part refused to apologize when his record did not seem congruent
with present-day wokeness. Except when it came to crime. Asked in October 2020
whether his support for the crime bill—which was more than merely support, it
was his bill—had been a mistake, he replied, “Yes, it was.” Biden’s refusal to
stake a proud claim to his most significant legislative accomplishment suggests
just how profound the snapback has been—back to ideas that dominated liberal
viewpoints toward crime and once did such damage to Democratic politicians.
And yet we’re not just experiencing echoes of the past.
No: The leaders of today’s most fashionable perspectives on crime are advancing
the arguments into an entirely new realm. A new generation of activist
legislators, such as Representatives Cori Bush and Jamaal Bowman, are proposing
sweeping changes to the criminal-justice system based not on practical
realities but on the ideology of Critical Race Theory and its claims of
“systemic racism” and “white supremacy.” They are not working on common-sense
reforms of law enforcement and the criminal-justice system, many of which are
needed in the wake of the three-decade crime drop in part because they were a
product of a more dangerous time that required a more Draconian public
response. Rather, they seek the abolition of what they call the
“prison-industrial complex.” The problem, we are told, time and time again,
isn’t antisocial, violent, criminal behavior, but a society that imprisons
people for it.
The death of George Floyd in Minneapolis last spring at
the hands of a police officer prompted months of protests and demands for
changes to law enforcement, as well as exponential growth in support for the
Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement. It presented an opportunity for a
large-scale bipartisan debate about the criminal-justice system’s flaws. But
the moment passed quickly because the left refused to seize it. For the most
committed, radical activists, reform is a dodge. Abolition of law enforcement
is their goal.
Throughout the spring and summer, when BLM demonstrations
turned violent, the mainstream media downplayed them or deemed them “mostly
peaceful,” and liberal activists, if they acknowledged the violence at all,
justified obvious criminal behavior as necessary civil disobedience. When
destructive riots broke out (as they did across the country, causing numerous
deaths and billions of dollars in property damage), a BLM leader in Chicago
called them appropriate “reparations” for slavery. Americans who watched their
communities burn and witnessed the widespread social unrest—as well as month
after month of invective directed at law enforcement—understandably questioned
the credibility of the “mostly peaceful” narrative as well as the broader goals
to “defund police” and “abolish prisons.” There is some evidence that they took
those concerns to the polls in local and state elections in 2020, which led to
a shrinking of the Democratic majority in the House and allowed many state legislatures
to maintain Republican majorities.
It’s one thing to put a Black Lives Matter sign on your
front lawn to express your sorrow at what you believe to be the disparate
treatment of people of color by people in authority. It’s quite another to endorse
the elimination of all law enforcement and its replacement by social workers.
It is here where the radicalism of the liberal agenda for law enforcement once
again runs up against the realities of criminal behavior—and where liberalism
is poised to repeat the mistakes of the past.
A troubling rise in homicide rates across the country
suggests that the transformation of law enforcement sought by BLM and its
supporters has thus far had tragic consequences—with the greatest impact felt
by the very population of vulnerable citizens, black Americans, that it claims
to represent. As the Manhattan Institute’s Heather Mac Donald noted recently in
the Wall Street Journal, “the local
murder increases in 2020 were startling: 95% in Milwaukee, 78% in Louisville, Ky.,
74% in Seattle, 72% in Minneapolis, 62% in New Orleans, and 58% in Atlanta.”
The vast majority of victims of these homicides were black Americans, including
many children, 55 of whom were killed in Chicago last year alone.
The message of the summer’s protests against police has
been heard, and cops are acting on it. “Proactive police work is dead,”
Lieutenant Bob Kroll of the Minneapolis Police Department told Mac Donald.
Police stops in the city have fallen by half since the summer, a rational response
by cops to the public hostility directed toward them when they do their jobs.
In the name of pursuing racial justice, progressive mayors have disbanded
special law-enforcement units that focused on the violent drug trade or getting
illegal guns off the street, with a predictable increase in gun violence as the
result.
These units, a form of proactive policing (as opposed to
the reactive policing that exists when police officers merely respond to calls
for service, such as 911 calls), are the reason crime remained low in high-risk
communities. Rather than wait for crimes to occur and respond to them, special
units, often made up of plainclothes officers, spend time in the communities
they police, monitoring potentially criminal activity (such as drug and gun
sales) to thwart criminal activities that would eventually lead to violence.
When they work well, these units partner with community groups to defuse gang
tensions before they spill over into the community in the form of wanton
violence, for example. When elements of the public come to see proactive
policing as too aggressive, which can be the ironic result of its success at
lowering crime such that the practices begin to involve more and more people
who are not involved in any way with unlawful activity, proactive policing can
have unintended negative consequences.
It is a difficult balance to strike, but past experience
suggests that eliminating proactive policing tactics entirely has the immediate
effect of increasing gun violence in particular. When Portland Mayor Ted
Wheeler responded to BLM activists’ demands this summer by eliminating the
police department’s Gun Violence Reduction Team (activists claimed it was
unfairly targeting black citizens), gun violence doubled. “I think the City of
Portland had three or four murders up to I think the end of May, mid-June [2020],
and then we’d had like 48 since and that pace is really bad—that puts Portland
on a pace to have 100 homicides a year or more, which would by far be a record
that goes back 30-plus years,” a Portland police detective told a local news
team. “That’s super concerning.” Other cities that eliminated their task forces
saw similar spikes in gun violence.
While cops withdraw from proactive policing, the
officials entrusted with prosecuting people for crimes have also embraced
radical, progressive agendas in the name of racial justice, including trying to
redefine what crime is. In cities across the county, elected progressive
prosecutors now heed the calls of activists to “decriminalize” illegal actions
in the name of social justice. Philadelphia District Attorney Larry Krasner has
been outspoken in his support of such decriminalization, and he refuses to
prosecute thefts and other violations. A 2018 profile in the New York Times Magazine described him
denouncing his own profession to law students, saying of prosecutors, “What
they are involved with has elements of racism, classism, picking on the poor.
What they do is connected not to the best but to the worst elements of
policing.”
He’s not the only one to embrace such radical views. San
Francisco DA Chesa Boudin refuses to prosecute what he calls “quality of life”
crimes (including prostitution), while in Boston, DA Rachael Rollins initially
ran for office on a platform promising not
to prosecute many crimes, including selling drugs, trespassing, and resisting
arrest. The willingness to tolerate these crimes is recast as promoting a more
merciful, less punitive justice system—but in the eyes of law-abiding people,
including the victims of crime, it is experienced as a dereliction of duty.
The trend is likely to continue. The Appeal, a
progressive news site, noted that a new round of local elections for sheriffs,
district attorneys, and mayors in 2021 will offer new opportunities to expand
the progressive agenda on crime. “A string of local elections that hold the
potential of upending the criminal legal system are on the horizon in the
spring and fall,” Daniel Nichanian wrote, noting approvingly that liberal
victories would “shrink the criminal legal system and law enforcement
altogether—by not prosecuting certain behaviors at all or by closing jails, for
example—rather than just making them work differently.”
But the way it’s working “differently” thus far is giving
free rein to violence. As Rafael Mangual noted in the New York Times about the recent disturbing increase in violent
crime in New York City: “Through Dec. 27, New York City’s 447 homicides and
1,518 shootings are respective year-to-date increases of 41 percent and 97.4
percent from 2019’s numbers. New Yorkers haven’t seen a year-over-year spike in
homicides anywhere near this large since the early 1970s.”
In Washington, D.C., where homicide rates are also rising
steeply and crimes like carjacking are up 141 percent in 2020 compared with
2019, the city council recently approved, over the vigorous objections of law
enforcement, legislation to allow people convicted of violent crimes to
petition for early release. The council even rejected proposed amendments to
the new law that would have insisted judges consider the experience of the
victims of crimes or the “nature of the underlying offense” when considering
early release. Instead, the focus, as in so much of the new progressive
approach to criminal justice, is on the experience and needs of the criminal.
The new mood in cities is reflected by a recent addition to the streetscape in
D.C.’s Shaw neighborhood, where crime has risen significantly since last year,
including several daytime shootings and armed carjackings. There, you can find,
affixed beneath city parking placards, permanent metal signs placed by
activists that read “Prisons are modern slavery.”
***
When the Wall
Street Journal asked a third-generation NYPD officer who recently retired
after nearly 40 years on the force what had changed most since he was a rookie,
he told the following story: A woman whose apartment had been broken into was
asked to appear in court to testify about the crime after cops had found the
perpetrator’s DNA at the scene of the crime and arrested him. She said she
didn’t want to testify, and when the cop asked her why, she replied, “I don’t
believe in mass incarceration.”
Incarceration isn’t something you do or don’t “believe
in,” like the Tooth Fairy. Nor is it something one can abolish or wish away
without consequence. And yet the agitprop of BLM and anti-incarceration
activists has been so effective that such views are now part of the liberal
mainstream, with disastrous consequences.
Ashish Prashar, a self-described “justice reform
campaigner,” is typical of this thinking. Writing in Business Insider, he argues that even the language we use to talk
about crime is offensive and unnecessarily stigmatizes offenders. “From
replacing words like ‘convict’ or ‘criminal’ with phrases like ‘formerly
incarcerated person’ or ‘person who served time,’ to replacing ‘gang’ with
‘friends’ or ‘schoolmates’ when a young person gets tangled up in trouble, this
helps us accurately represent the relationships at play, remember our capacity
for restorative work, and invites true justice,” he writes. He describes his own
brief prison experience (he was part of a criminal gang in the UK that stole
tens of thousands of dollars of merchandise): “In prison the guards take your
personal belongings and issue you jeans, a shirt, a faded blue sweatshirt, and
a clunky pair of black shoes. This is the start of a process designed not to
rehabilitate you, but to crush you.”
He believes the problem with prison—and the
criminal-justice system writ large—is that it fails to nurture the potential of
those who break the law: “The people I went to prison with could have become
executives, entrepreneurs, or elected officials if only the story told around
their lives was honest or if someone had recognized their spark and nurtured
it. The responsibility is with us to change the narrative by putting people
before records.” In a post-election op-ed in USA Today, Prashar called on a newly elected Joe Biden to abolish
prisons, although he conceded the process might take time: “We know that
prisons won’t be bulldozed tomorrow, and the complete elimination of the
justice system can’t be done in one fell swoop. But in the meantime, people
need to continue to confront the criminal justice system and face the harm of
incarceration.”
Rebranding the Crips and the Bloods as Friends and
Schoolmates does nothing to diminish the havoc they wreak on communities,
however, so another front in the decarceration battle involves muting the
concerns of crime victims. In his Philadelphia office, Krasner appointed Movita
Johnson-Harrell as the supervisor of victim services charged with aiding crime
victims. Yet, as the New York Times
reported, she appears more focused on excusing criminals than she is on helping
victims. “I’ve always fought for kids on both sides of the gun,” she told the
reporter. “Young people who cause crimes are often victims themselves, even
victims of a broken society.” By drawing this moral equivalence between the
perpetrators and the victims of crime, this “supervisor of victim services”
effectively erases the experiences of crime victims and, correctly or not,
contributes to the feeling of many citizens that liberal officials are more
concerned about society’s unfairness to criminals than about seeking justice
for those upon whom they prey.
Consider a Boston woman who was violently attacked while
walking her dog in 2017 and left with a traumatic brain injury. DA Rollins, who
was supposed to prosecute the crime, instead charged the attacker with a
misdemeanor so he could avoid jail time. As the Boston Globe reported, Rollins wants to stop “a freight train
moving toward mass incarceration of poor people and black and brown people.”
When the paper reviewed Rollins’s record, they found that not only was she
“dropping more cases than before, but some of the cases don’t seem ‘low-level’
at all, involving serious bodily injury, major thefts, and career criminals.”
In response to the criticism she received for letting the
violent criminal who attacked the woman back on the street, Rollins doubled
down on protecting the criminal. “I represent not just the victims but the
defendant and the community,” she claimed. In fact, her job is to prosecute
violent offenders to protect the
community (public defenders represent the accused). But in the world of
decarceration advocates, up is down, and down is up, and criminals, not crime
victims, are always the vulnerable party.
Prison abolitionists often describe our criminal-justice
system as an organization full of mistreated, nonviolent offenders wrongly
incarcerated because of the color of their skin. In fact, although activists
frequently cite the fact that rates of imprisonment in the U.S. are some of the
highest in the world, the trend in incarceration is actually going down.
Analyzing data from the U.S. Bureau of Justice Statistics, the Pew Foundation
found that “the U.S. incarceration rate fell in 2016 to its lowest level in 20
years.”
Decarceration advocates also wildly misrepresent the
offenses committed by the prison population. As the criminologist John Pfaff
has argued, prisons aren’t full of nonviolent drug offenders who many Americans
could agree would be better off in diversionary programs. They are, quite
simply, full of violent criminals: “In state prisons, which hold nearly 90
percent of the nation’s 1.5 million prisoners, almost 95 percent of inmates
serving long sentences have been convicted of serious violence, not drugs; about
half or more of such inmates were convicted of murder or manslaughter.” If you
abolish prisons, what do you do with the violent among us? They will not
disappear with the wave of the social-justice wand, or bend to the will of the
social workers who progressives argue should replace police officers.
Nor can the disquieting racial disparities in the
commission of violent crimes be wished away: According to the Bureau of Justice
Statistics, more than half of all homicides in the U.S. are committed by black
people, despite the fact that they make up only 13 percent of the population.
Most of their victims are also black. FBI data also reveal that blacks
disproportionately commit a range of other crimes, including manslaughter,
rape, robbery, and aggravated assault.
Progressive activists and BLM supporters who argue for
the abolition of prisons and police because of their supposed disproportionate
impact on black Americans cannot be taken seriously if they do not contend with
these facts. The reason more black Americans come into contact with police in
the first place is that cops are called to respond more often to the actions of
dangerous people in minority neighborhoods. The law-abiding citizens in these
neighborhoods know this; they are the ones who want a law-enforcement presence
on their streets to deter violence.
Prison abolitionists refuse to countenance such facts,
relying instead on revolutionary appeals. The progressive Rewire News Group
explains that advocates of prison abolition “trace the origins of prisons to
slavery and slave patrols” and “identify the criminal justice system as an
anti-Black apparatus that works to other and disappear people from society.” As
for lawbreakers, they argue, “crime doesn’t happen in a vacuum and is often a
result of poverty and necessity, along with the steady decline of social
services.” Indeed, abolitionists claim to “challenge the notions of
‘criminality’ and ‘innocence’” altogether.
Critical Resistance, an abolitionist group founded by
one-time American Communist doyenne Angela Davis, supports the destruction of
the “prison-industrial complex” (PIC) as part of a broader revolutionary
worldview: “We think of the PIC as the system of surveillance, policing, and
imprisonment that government, industry and their interests use as solutions to
economic, social, and political problems.” In its view, the PIC “helps and
maintains the authority of people who get their power through racial, economic
and other privileges.”
But when it comes to policy specifics, abolitionists are
vague about what a world without prisons would look like. “From where we are
now,” avers Critical Resistance, “sometimes we can’t really imagine what
abolition is going to look like. Abolition isn’t just about getting rid of
buildings full of cages. It’s also about undoing the society we live in because
the PIC both feeds on and maintains oppression and inequalities through
punishment, violence, and controls millions of people.” The organization
#8toabolition offers an eight-point approach that begins with defunding the
police and includes “freeing people from jails and prisons.” But like many
abolitionist prescriptions, its agenda assumes that violent crime will somehow
disappear when cops and prisons no longer exist.
As one abolitionist revealed in Rewire News:
“Abolitionists are all around you, working to create systems that address harm
while also honoring the humanity of everyone. We are organizing to stop new
jails from being built in our towns and to get cops out of our schools. We are
talking to our loved ones about actual methods of accountability and practicing
nurturing interpersonal relationships with each other.” How one holds a rapist
accountable in the absence of law enforcement or nurtures an interpersonal
relationship with someone who attempts to murder you is left unexplored.
There are practical solutions known to be effective at
curbing violence. As former Department of Justice official Thomas Abt noted in
a 2017 New York Times op-ed about
effective ways to respond to rising homicide rates: “Civic, community and
criminal justice leaders confront criminals with a simple message: ‘The killing
must end now. If you let us, we will help you. If you make us, we will stop
you.’ Those willing to turn away from violence are offered services and
support, while those who will not are confronted with coordinated law
enforcement action. A systematic review found that this strategy reduced crime
and violence in nine out of 10 studies, with homicide reductions of 34 percent
to 63 percent.”
When violence doesn’t stop, social order becomes what
economists call an “intermittent asset.” Like perishable food, it expires when
certain conditions are reached. When cops no longer proactively police
dangerous neighborhoods, when progressive prosecutors refuse to prosecute
criminals, and when activists demand the abolition of law enforcement, social
order decays—most dramatically in the neighborhoods that are already the most
vulnerable to disorder. For the people living in these neighborhoods, safety
becomes a perishable good.
Beyond repeating the mistakes of the 1960s, the new
progressive approach to crime and punishment also risks destroying some of the
trans-partisan coalitions that have effected real criminal-justice reform in
recent decades.
In our politically polarized environment, it’s easy to
forget that criminal-justice reform has always had constituents on both the
left and the right. The left’s reformers are progressive activists and
organizations; the right’s are chiefly evangelicals, most notably former Nixon
aide Charles Colson, whose Prison Fellowship was founded in 1974 as an
evangelical outreach program to prisoners after his own stretch in jail.
Libertarian-minded people on the right are also part of this coalition and have
offered useful criticisms of the war on drugs, mandatory minimum sentencing for
minor drug offenses, and “three strikes” sentencing laws that might now seem
overly punitive.
The approach of these trans-partisan groups rejects both
the radicalism of prison abolitionists and the embrace of the status quo among
those on the right. They have focused their efforts on advocating treating
prisoners with dignity without downplaying the severity of violent crime or
lapsing into ideological claims about “systemic” racism or a “prison industrial
complex.” Realistic about human nature, they offer a pragmatic approach to the
need for incarceration for some individuals and the opportunity to offer better
alternatives (such as parole and rehabilitation programs) for those who are not
deemed a serious threat to their communities.
In the wake of the 1971 Attica prison riot, David J.
Rothman described this approach in the pages of the Public Interest: “There is no magical plan for prison reform that
can promise to reduce the number of criminals or the number of crimes.” But, he
suggested, “if we scale down our expectations and rely upon such basic
standards as human decency and economic costs, we will be in a better position
to consider the merits of innovation and decarceration.”
Writing in 2016 about the ways in which conservatives and
liberals collaborated on practical criminal-justice reform during the early
decades of the 2000s, David Dagan and Steven Teles noted that these coalitions
were effective largely because each side succeeded not by trying to bend the
other side to its will, but by embracing specific common goals and being
disciplined about pursuing them. Most important, they were careful not to allow
debates about reform to lapse into ideological or partisan battles.
The debate has shifted in opposition to pragmatic
collaboration. When South Carolina Senator Tim Scott proposed a police reform
bill in the wake of George Floyd’s killing last year, he included many of the
items on the left’s wish list: better data collection about use of force,
banning chokeholds, and making lynching a hate crime, among others. Scott, a
Republican, invited amendments from his Democratic colleagues to ensure
compromise and support for the bill, and expressed hope for a wide-ranging,
bipartisan piece of legislation. Instead, Democrats insulted Scott (Senator
Richard Durbin called the proposed legislation “a token, half-hearted
approach”) and immediately blocked debate on the bill, effectively killing it.
In its stead, progressive Democrats in the House are
pursuing a more radical policy agenda, called the BREATHE Act. The brainchild
of BLM activists, this wide-ranging proposal, as the Washington Post puts it, includes “calls for divesting federal
resources from policing and incarceration, greatly expanding funding for
low-income schools, creating a universal basic income for poor Americans,
overhauling drug laws and ending mandatory minimum sentences, among other
things.” (It also calls for the creation of a congressional committee to study reparations
for slavery.) It has the support of Representatives Bush, Bowman, Ayanna
Pressley, and Rashida Tlaib.
During his presidential campaign last summer, Biden
boasted, “When I was vice president, violent crime fell 15 percent in this
country…. The murder rate now is up 26 percent across the nation this year
under Donald Trump.” Even Politifact, which goes out of its way to give
Democratic politicians the benefit of the doubt, deemed Biden’s statement only
“half true.” The statistics Biden cited to brag about his achievements as VP
lumped together many different crimes; in fact, the murder rate in 2008 was the
same as it was in 2016, with dramatic increases coming only in 2020,
particularly in the wake of pandemic-related lockdowns and the George Floyd killing.
Biden wants credit for the results of decades of
tough-on-crime policies (which he supported then) even as he denounces those
same policies now as bulwarks of “systemic racism” and “white supremacy.” In
announcing a set of executive orders during his first weeks in office that
invoked Critical Race Theory jargon, the new president described the challenge
as an existential one. “We’re in a battle for the soul of this nation,” he
said, “and the truth is our soul will be troubled as long as systemic racism is
allowed to exist.” He went on to promise that his administration would “make
strikes to end systemic racism, and every branch of the White House and the
federal government will be part of that.”
The souls of Critical Race Theory folks might be troubled by “systemic racism” claims, but everyday Americans will be, and should be, far more bothered by imminent threats to their security and property. Biden has said next to nothing about those concerns since winning the election. Instead, he has embraced certain pet causes of the decarceration crowd, such as standing in opposition to privately owned prisons. And his adoption of Critical Race Theory rhetoric comes at a time when data suggest we are at risk of being swamped by a new wave of violent crime, not the fantastical cessation of criminal behavior envisioned by progressive activists. If Joe Biden continues to respond to the grim reality of rising crime with factitious and false rhetoric about why we need less law enforcement, the results may prove to be not only a disaster for the nation as a whole, but political suicide for his presidency and his party.
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