Crisis of violence
With nearly a month to go, Little Rock has already set a new all-time record for homicides at 75. That’s a lot of fatal bloodshed in a city with a population of only 200,000.
Using the normal metric, it calculates to a rate of 37 murders per 100,000 population. And should there be any more record-breaking homicides in December, the murder rate— which is already on par with some of the world’s most violent nations—will go even higher.
Homicides in Little Rock have risen 70 percent in the last five years, according to news reports.
Little Rock is not unique; the past couple of years have seen a number of cities hit all-time highs in various violent crime categories, specifically including murder. As some pundits have observed, the more accurate description has been that many areas in the country are experiencing a violence, rather than a crime, crisis.
Statistics support such a conclusion in Arkansas in general, and in Little Rock particularly, as property-crime rates have plummeted during the same five years that saw murders skyrocket.
The FBI’s UCR 2020 rate for burglary in Arkansas was the lowest in more than half a century. Larceny-theft rates have steadily declined since 2012, and hit a 38-year-low in 2020.
Conversely, the violent-crime index statewide was the highest ever, propelled in part by Little Rock’s crime spike, with assists from Pine Bluff, Jacksonville and North Little Rock. All four cities landed on the FBI’s list of the 50 cities with the highest murder rates in 2020.
Early this year, Little Rock’s city directors approved a mayor’s resolution declaring a crime emergency in the capital city. That was followed by the creation of a crime-prevention advisory group, which presented its recommendations this week.
The Holistic Outreach and Prevention in Every neighborhood plan forms the acronym HOPE, which along with prayer is something every crime-ridden community needs. And as far as holistic approaches go, the advisory council’s long view on things like improving police-resident relationships and prioritizing youth and parental support programs.
A firm nod toward greater victim advocacy was especially welcome to read about.
The general tone of the HOPE recommendations echoes the LRPD’s Violent Crime Reduction Plan unveiled last year—the response to which was the most deadly homicide year ever this year. The long view comes up short as a crisis plan when murders are up 30 percent over last year, with no indication of subsiding soon.
Emergency measures by definition are extraordinary, and yet it seems there hasn’t been much extraordinary effort expended to address the fatal violence. Drastic tactics such as stop-and-frisk must be administered in ways that avoid constitutional overreach, but when murders are out of control, such actions warrant consideration.
Why not ask members of communities suffering the most violence themselves what they would like to see, what they think might work? Surveyed residents may have some innovative ideas, and might invite and welcome help in ways law enforcement wouldn’t normally initiate.
Arkansas law was changed in 2015 to allow police officers to search the person, car or home of someone on parole or probation at any time, with no requirement for cause. Given the high recidivism rate of violent criminals, a strategy involving surprise searches in high-crime areas during high-crime days and times, like weekend nights, might disrupt criminal behavior (and likely also disarm a few thugs).
The 2021 violent-crime reduction plan cited some “glaring causational societal factors,” which included perpetrators using vehicles to add mobility for crime strikes and using social media to target and coordinate attacks.
Police traditionally respond by rushing to the scene of a violent crime. Maybe they should simultaneously set up roadblocks on main roadways leading from the scene following a shooting, to be on the lookout for suspicious getaway vehicles. And monitoring and cross-referencing threatening social media users with known parolees or probationary subjects could trigger intervention searches that require no warrant or notice.
All that takes additional staff and money, of course. But in emergency situations, the first priority is to stop the bleeding (literally).
Another approach is being tried out in Chesapeake, Va., where a survivor of a Walmart manager’s alleged shooting of a dozen co-workers is suing the retail giant for $50 million.
Her lawsuit argues that Walmart knew of complaints about the shooter’s violent tendencies and his threatening remarks but failed to take action to protect her as an employee. Walmart knew or should have known, based on things the manager had said and done, that he presented a predictable risk of violent harm to his fellow employees, the lawsuit asserts.
Liability and accountability are powerful incentives for positive change and broader efforts at self-policing and security. Beyond workplace violence, the argument can be made that parole boards need to be more scrutinizing and careful in contemplating early release of violent criminals.
Felons with a history of firearm violence that stems from youth are almost a sure bet to be repeat offenders. Creating more accountability and liability around mistakes or negligence for those involved in early release decision-making would almost assuredly save lives.