Fear and Loathing
It’s been a year since the death of George Floyd, and the cycle of violence is becoming fixed in our minds and in our streets. Police are being targeted while protestors cheer, and black men fear that racist police are looking for reasons to kill them. Fear plays a significant role in this deadly dance, and it’s not hard to see how the fear, on both sides, is justified. Empathy might, if nothing else, provide us with a vantage point from which to understand both sides.
Consider, first, the perspective of the black man. Since you were a child, you have been told stories of innocent people killed by racist cops. You know their names: Michael Brown, Freddy Gray, George Floyd and, you are certain, as one website puts it, that there are “thousands of other names we don’t know.” Famous people like Lebron James see the same thing: “We are scared as Black people in America. Black men, Black women, Black kids. We are, we are terrified.” You’ve grown up knowing the perils of “driving while black.” You know in your bones that if a policeman pulls you over, things could quickly go bad. As Ibram X. Kendi puts it, “I had to learn how to keep racist cops from getting nervous.” Cops pull black men over a lot. This is because most cops are racists, and they explicitly target black men. “They clearly want to arrest us. They suspect that just because we’re black, we are violent criminals. When I see a cop, I gotta admit, I feel a sinking feeling in my stomach. I just want to get away.”
Now consider the perspective of the policeman. Of course, the race of police officers varies. About 12% of officers in America are black, a slightly lower proportion than the U.S. population as a whole, which is 13.4% black. Nationwide, minorities comprise around 27% of the police officers. For law enforcement officers, certain disturbing facts hover over the day-to-day work of maintaining order. For instance, in 2019, 39.6% of murders were committed by blacks (29.1% by whites and 29.3% unknown). In other words, 13.4% of the population committed at least 40% of the murders. And that statistic, itself, is misleading. Young men are far and away the most common culprits. Like it or not, young black men are involved in a disproportionate number of violent crimes. Blame it on systemic racism. Blame it on poverty. Blame it on absentee fathers and the breakdown of families. It’s not hard to imagine the police officer’s thoughts: “I really don’t know why young black men are involved in more violent crime. I do know that whenever I pull a car over, there’s a little surge of adrenaline, and if I see the driver is a young black man, well, sure, I’m especially attentive.”
When a police officer encounters a young black man, this is not simply an encounter between two individuals. In every such meeting, two competing but complementary narratives collide. The black man’s narrative tells him that he is a target, that law enforcement officers have the power to destroy him, and that they are eager to use that power. The police officer’s narrative tells him that young black men are more likely to be violent criminals and therefore are more likely to respond violently. One of the obvious consequences born of these narratives is a heightened sense of fear. And from the perspective of the competing narratives, the fear is completely justified.
Fear tends to short-circuit good judgement. We all know from observation and personal experience that frightened people don’t always act rationally. When a person is suddenly confronted with what he perceives to be a life-or-death situation, the fight or flight mechanism kicks in. If this is not quickly suppressed, the situation will escalate. The officer will escalate in response and in the process may make fatal mistakes. The competing narratives nourish one another. The likelihood of violence increases, and when violence breaks out, the narratives of each side are reinforced. The game is set for the next round in another neighborhood, another city, or another state where everyone is amped up on social media and self-righteous anger.
In the swirl of fear, it’s important to keep some things in mind. In 2019, 13,927 people were murdered in the United States. Of those, 5,787 were white and 7,484 were black. That is, blacks make up 13% of the population but comprise well over half of the murder victims. In short, it’s clearly more dangerous to be black. It’s also worth noting that 90% of black murder victims are killed by blacks. At the same time, it is increasingly dangerous to be a law enforcement officer. In July of last year, for example, the number of police officers killed was up 28% over 2019. The general perception of danger exists on both sides.
There is no single solution to this symbiotic cycle. Police reforms are warranted. However, most people agree that defunding the police is not the answer. In fact, increased funds to train police in de-escalation of high pressure situations is essential. It makes sense to encourage neighborhood policing where officers are assigned to particular neighborhoods and, consequently, are seen as “an extension of the citizenry rather than as warriors.” At the same time, young black men need to recognize that the real danger is not law enforcement, even though there may be the occasional racist cop. The real danger for the young black man is other young black men. And while the causes are complex – poverty, poor schools, family breakdown, and public policies that lead to despair – one thing is certain: young men need good role models, and the most effective role model for a young man is a father in the home who provides an example of responsible citizenship. Fathers matter.
Ultimately, empathy requires us to make the effort to see the common humanity we share. The cycle of fear and violence will not subside until people on both sides begin to engage seriously and respectfully with the facts – and, ultimately, with one another.
Mark T. Mitchell is Dean of Academic Affairs at Patrick Henry College and the author, most recently, of Power and Purity: The Unholy Marriage that Spawned America’s Social Justice Warriors.
