In his book The new Jim Crow (Alexander, 2010), Michelle Alexander argues that while overt discrimination based on race is no longer socially acceptable, discrimination against those convicted of a crime is. She notes that although crime rates in the United States are roughly equal to those in other Western countries, incarceration rates have steadily climbed, even though domestic crime rates are lower than the international average. This exponential growth has been fueled by drug policy, whose enforcement falls disproportionately on people of color. As a result, more people of color are incarcerated in the United States than were in South Africa at the height of the crisis. aside.
While some, like criminologist Barry Latzer, challenged Ms. Alexander’s view, it is difficult to seriously argue that the War on Drugs™ has an equal impact on all population subgroups. Consider that in 1985, before the passage of the Anti-Drug Act of 1986, of approximately 22,000 inmates arrested primarily for drug offenses, 39% were black and 38% white (Mitchell, 2009). In 2003, the number of arrests was five times higher and the proportion of detainees was 53% black and 30% white. To put the problem even further, in 1999, approximately 2% of the black population was incarcerated, with 1 in 10 black men between the ages of 20 and 30 in state or federal prison (Bobo and Thompson, 2006). . As Simon (2007) observes, with such a large proportion of young black men incarcerated, prison plays a greater socializing role in affected communities than college, marriage, the military, and has a similar socializing impact to that of the labor market.
You have to ask for it; what justifies these disparities? A differential involvement paradigm would reveal that minorities are arrested, convicted, and incarcerated more often simply because they engage in more criminal activity. This is in fact the opinion of many policy makers, law enforcement officials, and a large part of the public. Yet, Blacks and Whites have repeatedly been shown to use and sell drugs at similar rates (Rosenberg, Grooves, & Blankenship, 2017). Additionally, it has been shown that when looking at crimes unrelated to drug activity, such as rape, robbery, and assault, both blacks and whites of the same socioeconomic status commit such crimes. crimes at approximately the same rate (Harrell, Langton, Berzofsky, Couzens, & Smiley-McDonald, 2014). Therefore, differential involvement cannot explain why black people are up to 57 times more likely to be imprisoned for drug crimes than their white counterparts.
The answer lies in differential selection, in which enforcement efforts tend toward specific characteristics that are more easily visible. As Mitchell and Caudy (2015) observe, blacks, as well as Hispanics (who also have higher incarceration rates than whites), tend to cluster in disadvantaged inner-city neighborhoods where Drug activity is much more public and transparent, like the streets. corners and “crack houses”. Unlike larger, more clandestine transactions between associates in wealthier neighborhoods, transactions in these areas tend to be smaller, more frequent, and between strangers with little, if any, personal loyalty between them. Finally, with the surplus of small dealers and sub-traffickers, these entrepreneurs naturally group together into gangs to protect their interests in the profitability of distribution territories, which leads to street violence.
Targeting these areas therefore constitutes a rational exercise for law enforcement. Operating within the mandate to deter both the supply and use of drugs, street sweeps, drug house raids and other similar measures enable policymakers and drug enforcement officials to law enforcement to claim an increasing number of victories, despite no measurable decrease in supply or demand. Adding to the absurdity of this differential selection is that the majority of incarcerated blacks were not convicted of trafficking or distribution, but of possession, despite recognition by the United States Sentencing Commission that the vast majority of users are white (Nunn, 2002). . All of this creates a self-perpetuating cycle of racist bias in law enforcement, justifying existing perceptions by creating and fostering the paradigm in which they are justified.
Under current federal and most state laws, the majority of drug offenses – even possession of small amounts of illegal substances – are classified as misdemeanors. This creates significant negative repercussions for those convicted of these offenses.. Those with criminal records have been shown to earn significantly less in the labor market than others during their respective lives, even those who were skilled workers before their conviction. This is not only due to the loss of wages during the period of incarceration, but also the stigma that private employers often place on criminal records, as well as the loss of social networks that inform their members of opportunities legitimate. Convicted individuals are generally ineligible for student loans to further their education, admission to military service, and other similar pathways known to improve socioeconomic mobility. Perhaps most insidious is that those convicted of drug crimes are disenfranchised, often unable to make their case to policymakers who have little incentive to address citizens’ concerns. those who can no longer vote. It is important not to assume that the above repercussions are consequences that fall on each convicted person. Families and communities are also affected, too often leading to intergenerational cycles of reduced socio-economic mobility and increased crime (Gust, 2012), (Foster and Hagan, 2009); a subject which will not be developed here because it requires its own treatment.
Tarnell Brown is an economist and public policy analyst based in Atlanta.