May 1972
The War on Crime:
The First Five Years
Nixon and Mitchell vowed to turn the tide. "Operation Intercept" and three
years later, it's their turn to face a fact of life: crime is rising, and
law enforcement alone won't stop it.
by James Vorenberg
Five years ago the President's Commission on Law
Enforcement and the Administration of Justice--generally known as the Crime
Commission- reported the results of its two-year examination of crime and
made more than 200 specific recommendations to overhaul our system of
criminal justice.
The Commission, for which I served as executive director, had been
appointed by President Johnson in 1965, partly in response to Senator
Barry Goldwater's introduction of "crime in the streets" as an issue in
the 1964 presidential election. But as we met in the White House to accept
the President's thanks for our report, politics seemed remote. The
Commissions chaired by Attorney General Nicholas Katzenbach, included
among its members Democrats and Republicans, prosecutors and academics,
the executive director of the Urban League and the vice president of the
International Association of Chiefs of Police. It had, nonetheless, been
able to reach agreement on what the President described as "the most
comprehensive and detailed program for meeting the challenge of crime ever
proposed in this country."
The President promptly submitted to Congress proposed legislation that
would provide funds to states and cities to carry out the Commission's
recommendations for change. Even those of us who had two years earlier
been a bit cynical about the reasons for the Commission's creation and
doubtful about what it would accomplish were optimistic.
Yet five years later crime is unquestionably a far worse problem for the
country than it was then, and our system of criminal justice--the police,
courts, and corrections agencies--seems less capable of coping with it.
The Department of Justice consoles us with the assurance that although
crime is still increasing, the rate of increase is slower. For former
Attorney General John Mitchell, who made heavy use of crime statistics in
the 1968 presidential campaign, the 30 percent increase in the reported
crime rate during the first three years of the Nixon Administration must
present a strategic puzzle as he plans the 1972 campaign.
In 1967 the Crime Commission could review the FBI reports of the seven
"index" crimes--homicide, rape, aggravated assault, robbery, burglary,
larceny (over $50), and auto theft--for 1960-1965 and report increases for
the five-year period of 36 percent in crimes against property and 25
percent in violent crime. This was troubling, to be sure, but hardly the
uncontrolled rampage about which Senator Goldwater had warned in the 1964
campaign. The Commission noted that because of the post-World War II "baby
boom," an unusually large part of the population was between fifteen and
twenty-five years of age. Since this group commits most of the serious
crimes, about half of the 1960-1965 increase could be attributed to this
temporary disproportion. The Commission also suggested that some of the
increase in crime might be the result of better reporting by or to the
police. Generally, it counseled against overreaction.
But the figures for the last five years of the sixties have convinced all
but the most skeptical that something more ominous than population changes
or reporting errors is involved. By 1970 the rate of crimes against
property had increased 147 percent for the decade and the rate of crimes
of violence had increased 126 percent. And the latest FBI figures show
that during the first nine months of 1971, there were further increases of
l0 percent for violent crimes and 6 percent for property crimes compared
with the same period in 1970. In the past five years self-protection has
become the dominant concern of those in our cities and suburbs evidenced
by the rapid growth of a multibillion-dollar-a-year private security
industry and the emergence of the German shepherd as the second most
popular breed of dog.
No one can say for sure what accounts for the enormous increase in the
danger which Americans face from each other. We do know that those
agencies on which we are accustomed to rely for crime control--police,
courts, and corrections--seem less capable of that task today than they
did five years ago, and many police chiefs, judges, and prison officials
openly acknowledge that there is nothing they can do to help. We also know
that each year there are thousands of new drug addicts, most of whom are
driven by their addiction and the nation's drug policy to prey on their
fellow citizens in order to get money to buy heroin. And we have
compelling evidence that during the past five years the frustration of
poor people and minorities with continued denial of opportunities to
improve their lives by lawful means has made reliance on crime an
increasingly acceptable alternative. The fifth anniversary of the Crime
Commission's report, coinciding as it does with the beginning of a
presidential election contest in which crime is once again certain to be a
central issue, is an appropriate time to explore why we have done so
poorly and what the prospects are for the years ahead.
The Crime Commission sought to show how police, courts, and correctional
agencies could both reduce crime and treat people more decently. A review
of where these criminal justice agencies stand today indicates virtually
no progress on the first of these goals and only spotty progress on the
second.
THE POLICE. The principal gains by the police in the past five years have
been in lowering the level of hostility between the police and young
people, particularly blacks. This progress has taken place despite the
fact that President Nixon came into office after a campaign that invited
the police and the public generally to blame crime on Supreme Court
decisions designed to curb police abuses. Improvement has been especially
marked in cities such as Oakland and New York, where the chiefs have made
it clear that decent treatment of citizens is a top priority and will be
given weight in promotion and assignments of officers. Many police
departments now have their own legal offices and are getting advice from
the inside on how to respect due process. The Brandeis University Center
for the Study of Violence cites better training in community relations as
one reason for the decline in disorders in the past five years. Increases
in the number of minority-group police officers have also helped, although
here the record is mixed. The nation's five largest cities in total have
shown a 23 percent increase in black officers in the past five years. Yet
some departments, such as Cleveland's and Philadelphia's, have lost
ground. Alabama and Mississippi still bar blacks from their state police,
and Massachusetts has only two on its 870-man force.
Changes which seem to have improved relations between citizens and the
police in many cities have not been matched by new crime-reduction
methods. Much of the federal aid to police has gone for such flashy items
as helicopters, computerized communications systems, and new weaponry. Yet
these have not produced a significant impact on crime. Little progress has
been made on Commission proposals that police presence on the streets be
increased by hiring civilians for clerical and administrative tasks. (New
York City, with 32,000 policemen, has a maximum number of 3500 on the
street at one time.) One discouraging indication of how little change has
been made in five years is the striking similarity between the chapter on
the police in the Crime Commission's 1967 report and the police section of
"Planning Guidelines and Programs to Reduce Crime," just released by the
Justice Department for use in its eight "high-impact" cities, where a
special effort will be made to reduce crime.
The most promising "new" crime-control idea for the police is New York
Commissioner Patrick Murphy's neighborhood team system, a blend of the
Crime Commission's teams of policemen with the traditional "cop on the
beat." Simply stated, Murphy wants to decentralize responsibility so that
each neighborhood has its own team of officers who would come to know its
crime patterns, its residents, and its potential offenders. The team would
then be held responsible for reducing crime in the neighborhood. Murphy's
crime prevention and anticorruption strategies overlap, since the team's
commanding officer would also be fully accountable (Murphy's favorite
word) for any corruption among his men.
Murphy instituted his system in Detroit but left to become commissioner in
New York before its results could be tested. He is adopting the same
approach in New York; and Chief Jerry Wilson in Washington, D.C., Murphy's
protege, believes his own form of this plan is responsible for some
reductions in street crime in the nation's capital.
The neighborhood team has probably improved police-community relations in
the cities where it is being used. It remains to be seen whether it will
also result in significant reductions in crime or whether it will simply
provide pressure for incomplete reporting of crimes to central
headquarters, a time-honored practice in earlier days when a precinct
captain's job depended on keeping a "clean beat."
CORRECTIONS. The same two goals it set for the police--crime reduction and
humane treatment--also ran through the Commission's 1967 report on
corrections, where, as with the police, it believed that the goals were
not inconsistent and could, in fact, reinforce each other. To achieve
these goals, the Commission urged a shift from the use of prisons to
community treatment of offenders. Its reasoning can be simply summarized:
if we take a person whose criminal conduct shows he cannot manage his
life, lock him up with others like himself, increase his frustrations and
anger, and take away from him any responsibility for planning his life, he
is almost certain to be more dangerous when he gets out than when he went
in. On this basis, the Commission urged that only the very dangerous
should be held in prison. It called for the development of halfway houses,
programs to send offenders home under intensive supervision, special
school and employment programs, and other forms of nonprison treatment.
In a few places there has been progress in carrying out these
recommendations. California has developed an extensive work-furlough
program for prisoners and also offers a subsidy to counties, which helps
keep the state prison population low by putting more offenders on
probation. The number of state prisoners has declined from 28,000 to
21,000 in the past three years. Plans for new prisons have been scrapped
and some of the existing ones are being closed.
The boldest approach is that of Jerome Miller, Massachusetts Commissioner
of Youth Services. Mr. Miller concluded that his institutions were doing
juvenile offenders more harm than good at a per capita cost to the state
of $10,000 a year, enough, in his words, "to send a child to Harvard with
a $100-a-week allowance, a summer vacation in Europe and once-a-week
psychotherapy." Within the next few months he plans to close all his
institutions for committed offenders and move the inmates to community
based work and education programs. He estimates that only 30 of the 800
juveniles now incarcerated are dangerous enough to be locked up, and he
eventually hopes to get these into private psychiatric facilities.
A few other states are moving more cautiously in the same direction. But
as a whole the country has continued to place heavy emphasis on prisons. A
recent survey by the Center for Criminal Justice at Harvard Law School
showed that there are residential facilities outside the walls of
traditional prisons for less than 2 percent of adult offenders--and that
most of these facilities were set up in the first two years after the
Crime Commission's report.
Ironically, the best hope for a move away from incarceration may lie in
the system's reaction to the slaughter at Attica. In much the same way
that the fear of city riots prodded police chiefs to develop community
relations programs in the late sixties, the fear of prison uprisings has
forced officials to confront such questions as how many of the 1200
inmates at Attica really had to be in prison.
It is sad but probably true that the fear of riots and the fiscal squeeze
on the states are more likely to close down prisons than either a sense of
humanity or a desire to prevent crime.
THE COURTS. While there has been some overall improvement in the police in
the past five years, and perhaps corrections has held its own, the quality
of the adjudication process--the responsibility of the courts--seems
clearly to have deteriorated over the same period. Many lower criminal
courts look more like factories than halls of justice. More than half of
the people in jail in this country are there because they are awaiting
trial, not because they have been convicted. Whatever deterrence of crime
the threat of penal sanctions might exercise is undermined as thousands of
defendants go free, not because they have been acquitted but because
courts and prosecutors are too overwhelmed by their work load to consider
their cases.
The total number of arrests, the source of the courts' business, increases
about 5 percent a year. More defendants are represented by lawyers who are
asserting their rights in court, including rights relating to confessions
and police searches spelled out by the U.S. Supreme Court during the
1960s.
The result is that a cumbersome process, which had managed to keep moving
by herding large numbers of defendants through the courts on guilty pleas
without consideration of possible defenses, has been further slowed. And
delay begets delay. The only way prosecutors and judges can keep the
glacierlike process moving at all is to drop cases or offer concessions to
defendants who will agree not to assert their rights. Often the best way
for defense counsel to get these concessions is to make repeated motions,
seek adjournments, and generally try to drag out the process as long as
possible. Even lawyers who do not deliberately seek delay achieve the same
result owing to their own overloaded schedules and the courts'
inefficiency. The rewards to defendants from this delay are enormous.
Ninety-four thousand felony arrests in New York City last year resulted in
only 550 trials. The other cases were dismissed or reduced to misdemeanors
in return for a guilty plea.
To blame the Supreme Court or defense lawyers who seek their clients' best
interests is rather like blaming highway congestion on those who set speed
limits and on drivers themselves. If we want the criminal system to be
able to handle the present volume of traffic, we must double and triple
the number of courtrooms, judges, prosecutors, and defense counsel--and be
ready to keep on increasing the number in the future. And even with such
increases the system will depend heavily on bargaining for pleas of
guilty.
Five years ago the Crime Commission called for resources to enable courts
to handle increased traffic, but it also outlined two possible approaches
to reducing the traffic. First, most cases involving drunks, first
offenders, persons in need of psychiatric or medical treatment, and
nondangerous offenders should be handled outside the criminal system.
Prosecutors and defense counsel were encouraged to agree on alternative
forms of treatment before such cases get to court, thus avoiding court
congestion and the destructive effects of pretrial stays in jail. In fact,
most of these cases now are disposed of without a formal court decision,
but usually only after they have added to the jam in the courts.
Second, for those cases that remain, the Commission urged the courts to
adopt modern administrative and business management methods that would
avoid repeated appearances and continuances. This recommendation has been
ignored, although adopting it would help not only the courts but also the
police, since prosecuting witnesses, including policemen, often are
required to come to court on five or more separate occasions for a single
case. Our society surely has the technology to schedule its judicial
business to eliminate repeated appearances, continuances, and delay. The
only way to keep delay from being manipulated as part of the bargaining
process is to have a system that gives the parties their "day in
court"--but not a day every week.
For the past five years crime has been a major national issue. More than
$1.5 billion in new federal money has been appropriated for the nation's
criminal justice system. One may fairly ask why there has been so little
progress.
Much of the answer lies in the inevitable hostility to change in any large
bureaucracy. Proposals to substitute halfway houses for high-security
prisons and computers for court docket clerks, or to establish new
educational requirements for police officers, threaten job security and
challenge the propriety and worth of what is being done. When Commissioner
Miller in Massachusetts abolished punishment cells for juvenile offenders
and allowed them to have long hair, some staff members permitted a series
of escapes designed to discredit his administration. Two comments by
employees suggest their frustration with the changes: "Years ago you could
flatten the kids out and that would be the end of it." "You wonder who's
in Jail, us or the kids."
City dwellers have learned recently about the "blue flu that often
afflicts police officers who are suspicious of proposed changes.
Commissioner Russell Oswald's apparent sense that he had to cater to the
views of the guards at Attica--even at the risk of scores of
deaths--suggests how powerfully existing values now hold those working in
the system. Strong and militant police and correctional officers' unions
in the past few years have provided an organization which can mobilize
this opposition to change.
Not all of the opposition to reform comes from within the bureaucracy.
Many state and city legislative bodies tend to be wary of changes,
particularly those that may seem "soft" on criminals or that cost money.
And some changes--such as attempts to establish halfway houses or drug
treatment centers in residential neighborhoods--have evoked enormous
hostility from private citizens.
Notwithstanding these inherent pressures against change, there was a
strong sense of optimism in the mid-sixties that something could be done
about crime. For the first time the federal government had acknowledged a
responsibility to help the cities and states. Local police chiefs,
prosecutors, and correctional administrators worked with the Crime
Commission from 1965 to 1967, and with the prospect of federal financial
aid, began the arduous task of overhauling their agencies.
The year 1968 was a bad one for criminal justice. During the 1968
presidential campaign, Mr. Nixon repeatedly cited decisions of the United
States Supreme Court as being the major cause of crime. The result was to
provide police officials, prosecutors, legislators and the general public
with an easy explanation for the enormous increases in crime in the late
sixties. This relieved some of the pressure for change, a process which
criminal justice officials were finding more painful and difficult than
expected.
It was also in 1968 that the Congress, after a delay of more than a year,
finally passed the Safe Streets and Crime Control Act to provide aid to
cities and states. As originally proposed, the Act would have given the
Justice Department the power to dispense funds directly to criminal
justice agencies which carried out the changes such as those recommended
by the Crime Commission. But Attorney General Ramsey Clark became
embroiled with Congress over Senator John McClellan's insistence that the
Act provide authorization for wiretapping and bugging. Clark and President
Johnson were strongly opposed to electronic surveillance. [*See Endnote].
However, Johnson's relations with Congress had deteriorated over the
Vietnam War, and Clark had emerged as the Republicans' whipping boy in
preparation for the 1968 presidential campaign. When the smoke had
cleared, the Administration had settled for legislation which not only
authorized electronic surveillance but which also substituted "block
grants" of federal funds to the states for the broad grantmaking authority
in the Justice Department.
The seriousness of this legislative defeat soon became clear. The
principal justification for federal aid was that it would provide an
incentive for cities and states to make changes in criminal justice
agencies. But with block grants the federal government cannot directly
push for reform. It simply gives a lump sum to each state to be
distributed in accordance with the state's own written plan. These plans
are the products of large new state bureaucracies, many of which are
controlled by old-line representatives of the state and local police
departments, courts, prosecutors, and correctional agencies that need to
be changed. Since the state plans are rather general and require only
superficial changes in the agencies, much of the money has been spent to
preserve the status quo.
Thus, except for a few states where the planning agencies have insisted on
substantial change as a condition of funding, there is little to show for
the almost one billion dollars that has been spent. Some of the early
funds were wasted on military equipment for riot control. In one state a
congressional committee found federal funds had been used to send families
of law-enforcement officials to college. At a hearing last fall, the
Conference of Mayors charged that "there is a wide-spread failure to
comply with the spirit of the law as it relates to distributing funds to
cities to fight crime." And the former administrator of the Act, Charles
Rogovin, has made the drastic suggestion that the Law Enforcement
Assistance Administration's funds "be frozen until its house is in
shape."
Unquestionably some of the problems are those attendant on any new federal
grant program. Some result from the highly political nature of the crime
issue. It has been suggested that the eight "high-impact" cities, each of
which will receive $25 million in the next two and one half years, were
picked with at least one eye on the 1972 election. Perhaps the most
fundamental defect in terms of crime control is the lack of research.
Largely because Congressman John Rooney of Brooklyn, the chairman of the
key subcommittee of the House Appropriations Committee, is suspicious of
research, there has been a five-year drought in funds for the research
authorized by the original Act. Thus, not much more is known about
specific techniques of crime prevention today than was known five years
ago, and the prospect for new answers in the next few years is bleak.
Even if every change the Commission called for in police, courts, and
correctional agencies had been made, the resulting reduction in crime
would probably have been more than offset by increases resulting from the
enormous spread of drug addiction. The best present estimate is that there
are 250,000 addicts in the United States, of whom between one third and
one half live in New York City. Research has shown that the same young
people at the bottom of the social and economic ladder who commit the bulk
of predatory crime are most likely to become addicts. (Five out of every
six addicts in New York City are black; about half are under twenty
two years of age.) Their addiction adds to the already great likelihood of
their committing crimes the need to raise $25 to $ 100 each day to buy
heroin. The results have been explosive. Some cities are reporting that
almost half of those in jail are addicts. One judge in Washington found
that 75 percent of the defendants brought into court on felony charges
were addicts.
Five years ago, the Crime Commission recognized addiction as a major
source of crime, but as four dissenting members of the Commission noted.
the majority was unwilling even to explore alternatives to the present
drug enforcement policy, which, by requiring addicts to get their heroin
illicitly, puts enormous pressure on them to rob, steal, prostitute
themselves, or sell drugs to raise money. Recently as an extension of this
policy, we have negotiated with Turkey, France, and Mexico and other
drug-producing countries in an attempt to cut off the supply at the
source. This has been combined with attempts to stop drugs at the borders
of the United States. The most dramatic example was "Operation Intercept,"
aimed at persons bringing marijuana across the Mexican border, and some
experts think that the only result was a temporary increase in the price
of marijuana in the United States and a switch by thousands of marijuana
users to heroin. In any event, it is perfectly clear that heroin and other
drugs are still plentiful and that federal law enforcement has served
primarily to keep the price at a high level, with the resultant pressure
on addicts to commit crimes to support their habits.
The most significant change in drug policy in the past five years is that
at the same time that several agencies of the federal government are
devoting enormous resources to the apparently futile effort to stop heroin
traffic, the country has moved quietly to a policy of dispensing another
addictive drug--methadone--on a maintenance basis. Labeled as
"experimental," methadone projects now exist in cities and towns all over
the country. Many such projects are funded by the Department of Health,
Education, and Welfare and all require a federal permit.
It was originally thought that methadone in some mysterious way provided a
"blockade" to the effects of heroin, but it is now clear that many addicts
take heroin and methadone (and other drugs) interchangeably. Both drugs
are addictive: both can give a "high" if taken in large doses; and both
can probably be given at sustaining dosages that would permit most addicts
to lead more or less normal lives. Many doctors prefer methadone as a
sustaining drug because they believe it is easier to stabilize doses; some
would prefer heroin because they think it has a better effect on the
patient's emotional state. The biggest difference between heroin and
methadone is probably political rather than pharmacological--methadone
does not have the history and the connotations that make it so difficult
for heroin to be considered as a form of medical treatment.
Partly for the same reason, among addicts heroin is still clearly the
"drug of choice." As long as it is available it is unlikely that even a
massive methadone maintenance program open to all addicts would
dramatically reduce the number of heroin users.
Concern about crime by heroin addicts has resulted in support for
experimental heroin-maintenance programs from unexpected sources. In
recent weeks a special committee of the staid American Bar Association has
called for such experiments. So have United States Attorney Whitney North
Seymour, Jr., and Police Commissioner Patrick Murphy in New York City and
Sheriff John Buckley in Middlesex County, Massachusetts. Mayor Lindsay
would almost certainly have set up such a program already but for the
strong opposition of Congressman Rangel and several other black leaders.
They see this approach as "writing off" their people and fear that
whatever deterrent effect the possibility of addiction might have on
marginal drug users might be undermined if the worst they faced by
becoming addicted was a daily trip to a government dispensary.
Another factor that has discouraged such programs is a prevailing
misconception in this country that the British system of making heroin
available to addicts at government-regulated clinics has resulted in a
large increase in addiction. While this was true when individual doctors
were permitted to prescribe heroin freely, two years ago the British began
controlling distribution by individual doctors and now make drugs
available through government-sponsored clinics. The result is that the
number of addicts in England has stabilized at less than 3000. (A recent
study counted six times that number in one forty-block area in New York
city.) There appears to be little crime committed in England today by
addicts seeking money for drugs, because addicts pay either nothing or 2
cents per dose for their heroin.
It would be a mistake to expect that most addicts will give up crime
altogether once they can get free heroin from clinics. A prostitute in the
Addiction Research and Treatment Corporation Center in Bedford
Stuyvesant explained it clearly: "Now that I'm on methadone, I feel like a
human being for the first time, I want some nice clothes and the only
thing I'm good enough at is boosting [shoplifting] and turning tricks. But
I don't have to do as much as long as I can get my drugs here."
Just as methadone is turning out to be no "magic bullet," so we would have
to anticipate that many heroin addicts maintained at clinics would commit
crimes. But controlling crime is not finding one total answer: it is
chipping away with a number of partial answers. By relieving the enormous
economic pressure of addiction, it may be possible to offset partially the
enormous increase in criminality accounted for by addiction.
Unless researchers find a nonaddictive substitute for heroin, we will
probably soon see a few government-sponsored heroin maintenance
experiments in the United States. And if the experience with methadone is
any guide, it seems a fair, if somewhat gloomy, guess that five years from
now public pressure to reduce crime will have forced acceptance of heroin
maintenance as a generally available form of treatment.
Neither improving the criminal justice system nor relieving addicts of the
additional economic pressure to commit crimes that their addiction imposes
on them is likely to make much difference in crime rates if millions of
people believe crime is their best route to a decent life. We rely for
self-protection more than we usually recognize on moral restraints based
on a sense that each member of society has a stake in obeying the law. The
sense of belonging to a community that underlies much of this moral
restraint is undermined if the conduct of the rich and the powerful is
characterized by selfishness, and if the government appears to have little
concern for the plight of those for whom life is difficult.
Continuing denial of opportunity combined with the anonymity of city life,
is destroying the social pressure to abstain from crime. The riots of the
mid-sixties showed one possible outlet for the deep frustration and hatred
felt by young blacks in the cities--the same group that is already
responsible for a large proportion of serious crime. In New York City
predatory "rat packs" of juveniles roam the city. They justify what they
do as "getting even," and the thought that their victims are human beings
with lives and feelings of their own seems foreign to them.
It would be a tragic mistake to assume that we can look to the law
enforcement system to control crime if other restraints disappear. To
understand this we need only look at the situation from the point of view
of the potential criminal. The odds against the police catching the
average burglar--either at the scene or later--are probably no better than
50 to 1. And if he is arrested, he has a good chance of having his case
dropped or of being put on probation. A middle-class citizen with a
reasonably comfortable life may be deterred by these odds: he has too much
to lose. But 25 million people in the United States live below the
officially defined poverty line. In a society where television commercials
are constantly reminding us that every self-respecting American should be
driving a new car and flying off for a Caribbean vacation, crime may seem
like the only good bet for those whose lives are little more than a
struggle to survive.
Even if we double or quadruple the effectiveness of law enforcement (and
there is no reason to think we can) and reduce the odds proportionately it
may still be a good bet. Crime will be a worse gamble only when people
have decent enough lives on the outside so they are unwilling to risk
arrest and conviction.
The view that the level of crime is determined less by law enforcement
than by the extent to which we make life worthwhile for those at the
bottom of the economic and social ladder is not a partisan one. Five years
ago the Crime Commission, which included such staunch conservatives as
William Rogers, currently Secretary of State, and Lewis Powell, one of
President Nixon's most recent appointees to the Supreme Court, unanimously
reported that the Commission
...has no doubt whatever that the most significant action that can be
taken against crime is action designed to eliminate slums and ghettos, to
improve education, to provide jobs, to make sure that every American is
given the opportunities and freedoms that will enable him to assume his
responsibilities.
The country seems to be proceeding on the contrary assumption. In a two
year period when federal appropriations for the Law Enforcement Assistance
Administration program increased from $270 million to $700 million, funds
for the federal juvenile-delinquency programs were cut from $15 to $10
million. Against the background of the tremendous increase in crime
committed by blacks, whatever notions of fiscal soundness or social
justice are thought to underlie the Administration's apparent acceptance
of Daniel P. Moynihan's proposal for "benign neglect" of blacks, that
policy seems almost certain to have disastrous effects on crime.
The Crime Commission's final conclusion was that "controlling crime in
America is an endeavor that will be slow and hard and costly. But America
can control crime if it will." At that time I thought there was hope for
changes that would both strengthen the agencies of criminal administration
and reduce the injustices that underlie much crime. I still do not believe
that we have to settle for a society where we live in fear of each other.
But today, I find it hard to point to anything that is being done that is
likely to reduce crime even to the level of five years
ago.
Copyright 1972 by James Vorenberg. All rights reserved.
The Atlantic Monthly; May 1972; The War on Crime: The First Five Years.
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