Resources

Over the past few years, there has been growing attention to the violence of policing and obstacles to police accountability and community safety that does not rely on police. With this heightened attention, the role and influence of police unions/fraternal organizations/associations has entered the spotlight, sparking discussions and debate over how to challenge obstacles posed by police union power.1 As calls grow to address police union power, so too does apprehension around targeting what many assume functions as a typical labor union. Some caution that critiques of police unions is a slippery slope that can only lead to negative consequences for all public sector unions, not just those for police unions.

Police violence is a public health issue in need of public health solutions. Reducing police contact through public health–informed alternative response programs separate from law enforcement agencies is one strategy to reduce police perpetration of physical, emotional, and sexual violence. Such programs may improve health outcomes, especially for communities that are disproportionately harmed by the police, such as Black, Latino/a, Native American, and transgender communities; nonbinary residents; people who are drug users, sex workers, or houseless; and people who experience mental health challenges.

The use of alternative response teams is increasing across the United States. This article provides a public health rationale and framework for developing and implementing alternative response programs informed by public health principles of care, equity, and prevention.

The questions in this document provide a guide to analyze whether proposed reforms to family policing further entrench the family policing system or move us closer to abolition of family policing. The questions we ask are a reflection of the world we want to build—one without family policing and one where children are safer.

A searchable database of police, sheriffs, and other public safety agencies’ contracts.

There have been enormous spending and staffing increases within the criminal legal system (or, as it is more commonly called, the “criminal justice system”) at the city, county, state, and federal levels over the past few decades. Use this map and corresponding tabs to learn more about what has been going on where you live.

In this report, Communities United, Movimiento Poder, Reimagine Richmond, and the Social Movement Support Lab examine the 2022 budgets of the 20 largest US cities and their respective counties to determine whether their investments prioritize the Mass Criminalization System or Systems of Community Care. We analyze the size of these public investments, the ratio between them, the cost to local residents, how that translates into the city personnel that residents encounter on a daily basis, and how these dynamics have shifted over time.

In light of concerns that the technologies employed by the digital welfare state exacerbate inequality and oppression, this article considers contemporary shifts in the administration of social assistance. Specifically, it examines the surveillance of recipients of government income support focusing on marginalized peoples in two jurisdictions: social security recipients subject to the Cashless Debit Card (CDC) in Australia, many of whom are Indigenous, and persons under the purview of the Lebanon One Unified InterOrganizational System for E-Cards (LOUISE) in Lebanon, many of whom are Syrian refugees. Taken together, the cases illuminate embedded ideologies and adverse experiences associated with the financialization of social assistance and the digitization of cash. Through a dual case study approach, this analysis draws out patterns as well as contextual distinctions to illustrate how technological changes reflect financialization trends and attempt neoliberal assimilation of social welfare recipients through intensive surveillance, albeit with disparate outcomes. After considering how these dynamics play out in each case, the article concludes by reflecting on the contradictions that emerge in relation to the promises of empowerment and individual responsibility through financialized logics and technologies.

Informants are the foot soldiers in the government’s war on drugs. By some estimates, up to 80% of all drug cases in America involve them, often in active roles. For police departments facing budget woes, untrained informants provide an inexpensive way to outsource the work of undercover officers. “The system makes it cheap and easy to use informants, as opposed to other, less risky but more cumbersome approaches,” says Alexandra Natapoff, a professor at Loyola Law School in Los Angeles and a leading expert on informants. “There are fewer procedures in place and fewer institutional checks on their use.” Often, deploying informants involves no paperwork and no institutional oversight, let alone lawyers, judges, or public scrutiny; their use is necessarily shrouded in secrecy.

Every day, offenders are sent out to perform high-risk police operations with few legal protections. Some are juveniles, occasionally as young as 14 or 15. Some operate through the haze of addiction; others are enrolled in state-mandated treatment programs that prohibit their association with illegal drugs of any kind. Many have been given false assurances by the police, used without regard for their safety, and treated as disposable pawns of the criminal-justice system.