In the weeks since President Joe Biden dropped out of the presidential race, a new narrative about the election has taken shape.
In one corner, there’s presumptive Democratic presidential nominee Kamala Harris — the former chief legal officer for California who says she’s here to “prosecute the case” against Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump. In the other is Trump, the self-proclaimed candidate of law and order who wants to “make America safe again.” Crime was already on voters’ minds. Now it sits squarely at the center of the debate — and both candidates will work strenuously to win voters’ trust on the issue of safety.
As they do, they’d be wise to remember that Americans aren’t interested in overheated rhetoric or petty name-calling. What people want are real solutions to make our communities safer and more just.
A debate on those terms — constructive and future-focused — would be a departure from the historical norm. Too often, our political discourse about crime and safety has become a war of constant escalation, in which candidates go to extreme lengths to claim the mantle of “tough on crime.” This dynamic hasn’t done anything to advance public safety. Instead, it’s given us the war on drugs and the highest incarceration rate in the world.
Is that really a mistake we want to repeat?
The polling data says no. Last year, Gallup showed that when you ask Americans whether the criminal justice system is “too tough” or “not tough enough,” most say it should be tougher. But then the pollsters went a level deeper and asked people what should actually be done. The top answer wasn’t to hire more police. It was to address the social and economic problems that drive crime in the first place — by a margin of 2 to 1.
Absent leadership from the top, people have spent the last decade developing those solutions from the ground up. Their movement travels under the broad banner of “criminal justice reform.” But really, the work is better understood as a process of democracy unfolding in big cities and small towns across the country — red, blue and purple.
Reformers are ordinary people working to center safety and justice in a way that’s specific to where they live. Together, they seek to understand what’s driving crime in their communities, from family instability to the absence of mental health services. They design policies to address those issues. They build political power and support networks. And they work with elected officials to get better laws on the books.
The reform movement has notched remarkable wins, beginning with the fact that 3 in 4 Americans– Democrats and Republicans — now believe in its aims, according to a report from the bipartisan group FWD.us.
Many of its solutions enjoy broad political appeal — among voters and legislators alike. States have passed laws to give police the resources they need while improving oversight and accountability. They’ve also pushed ahead on other fronts — strengthening the public defense system, ending mandatory minimum sentencing and juvenile life without parole, creating deflection and diversion programs, funding education and workforce development in prisons, expanding access to parole, sealing criminal records and making sure people who leave the prison system have the support they need to reenter society successfully.
Now the prison population is shrinking in many places, and crime rates are plummeting.
We have to protect those precious gains. And we can’t let the overheated rhetoric of a presidential election keep us from making more.
The way to start is by throwing a spotlight on progress. The bright-red state of Oklahoma, for example, just passed a law to help survivors of domestic abuse who were imprisoned because they committed a criminal act while defending themselves. Their sentences will now be reduced, thanks to a politically diverse group of advocates, legislators, funders and community members who spent two years working to right an obvious wrong.
Stories like this remind us that “tough on crime” policies aren’t the only option. Even in an era of profound political division — and a moment when the presidential election will pry us even further apart — we are still capable of crossing party lines to make change.
It’s only when we lose sight of that that we end up with laws such as the Safer Kentucky Act, which promises to sweep even more people into the state’s bulging prison system, some for life, while doing nothing to prevent crime.
People seeking elected office — Trump, Harris and everyone down-ballot — ought to take note. Voters might be willing to back a bad policy if it’s the only thing on the menu. But if you actually listen to what they’re asking for and give them a choice between senseless punishment and pragmatic solutions that deliver safety, accountability and justice, they’ll pick the better option. Sometimes, good policy really is good politics.
If we can manage to remember that, I’m optimistic about what November will bring for public safety measures across the country — regardless of who wins the White House.
No matter what, I urge everyone who cares about these issues, and especially the donors who sustain this movement, to stay committed. Politics is transient. Candidates come and go. But as we’ve proved together over the past decade, the criminal justice reform movement is durable.
If we keep investing in smart policies that the majority of Americans want, this work can remain an evergreen, bipartisan focus that can win in every state.
Trump and Harris may have the loudest megaphones. But it’s voters’ voices that matter most, and they’ve made their wishes clear.
Ana Zamora is founder and CEO of The Just Trust, which advocates for bipartisan criminal justice reform. Previously, she worked at the California Appellate Project and later served as director of criminal justice reform at the American Civil Liberties Union. She wrote this column for the Chicago Tribune.
Related Articles
Other voices: More schools should ban student cellphones
Sally Pipes: Free tuition won’t fix America’s shortage of doctors
David French: Colleges can’t say they weren’t warned
Lisa Jarvis: Bizarre raw milk trend puts kids at risk
F.D. Flam: The oldest Olympians might hold the key to slowing aging
