Defund the police? Not while law enforcement is funding Democrats’ political campaigns

The murder of George Floyd has finally awakened most Americans to the reality some have always known: policing is fundamentally broken.

Floyd’s death has forced us to reckon with police racism and violence, making profound change possible.

Perhaps.

Never underestimate the power that police hold in our political system. Law enforcement support can make or break political careers. When mayors want to raise taxes, “public safety” is a winning phrase and police endorsements are highly valued.

Police groups fund many political campaigns.

“Law enforcement associations have poured more than $7 million dollars into the campaigns of California lawmakers in the past two decades, and that leads to real power in Sacramento,” said Daniel G. Newman, president of MapLight, a nonprofit that tracks money in politics. “Not everyone has millions of dollars to spend on politics and our current campaign fundraising system often bends policy toward the interests that fund campaigns.”

Lawmakers love law enforcement money. Assemblywoman Lorena Gonzalez, D-San Diego, is a progressive, pro-union powerhouse. She also leads the Legislature in having received the most money from law enforcement during her career, with $163,900 in contributions, according to MapLight.

“I’ve been a strong supporter of criminal justice reform, including new safeguards to hold police officers accountable for their actions, and I co-authored Dr. Shirley Weber’s AB 392 to reform the use of force by the police,” Gonzalez said in a statement. “We all know our work on this is not done.”

This week, state Sen. Scott Wiener, D-San Francisco, announced he would redirect $20,000 in law enforcement donations to community groups and refuse future contributions. State Sen. Lena Gonzalez, D-Long Beach, pledged to do the same. Three progressive district attorneys have asked the California State Bar to ban prosecutors from taking police union cash, calling it a “conflict.”

“It’s extremely important for my constituents to have complete confidence that I’m willing to fight for racial justice and for dramatic change to policing in our criminal justice system,” said Wiener, who said he has a track record of bucking police groups.

Courage can be costly. In 2016, Wiener said, one police union withdrew its support after he voted in favor of reform.

Could Wiener’s shift spark a trend? Climate change activists have made it impossible for pro-environment politicians to accept fossil fuel dollars. Could the same thing happen with police money? It’s an important question that illuminates the power structure underlying our political system.

Law enforcement groups spend heavily to influence all levels of government. For example, the California Correctional Peace Officers Association — the prison guards’ union — donated $2.8 million to Gov. Gavin Newsom’s 2018 campaign.

Do they get something for their money? In 2019, Newsom agreed to give prison guards a 3 percent pay raise “with no evident justification,” according to the Legislative Analyst’s Office.

Protests are necessary expressions of political will, but it’s hard to compete with lobbying power. Slogans can capture a movement’s mood, but policy language dictates reality. Most politicians realize the need for action, but they also know that protests fade. Then it’s simply a question of how to adopt long overdue but minimal changes to symbolize progress.

Case in point: Democrats now support a national standard to govern when police are allowed to use force. It’s modeled after the tougher rules California adopted last year with Assembly Bill 392, which prohibit officers from using force unless it’s “necessary.” It was a hard-fought change that almost didn’t pass.

After Newsom signed it into law, however, some pro-police advocates bragged that it was toothless. Weber had proposed a stronger version, but the law enforcement lobby owned enough votes to force a compromise.

“I feel bad for that segment of the public that really thinks this is going to be the savior of ‘murder by police.’ It’s not,” Ed Obayashi, a sheriff’s deputy and AB 392 opponent, told the Los Angeles Times.

So, the bill that’s now the national model is, in Deputy Obayashi’s view, a nothing burger. No wonder activists feel cynical about “reform” and demand a complete dismantling.

Which brings us to “defund the police.”

As a political slogan, it’s disastrous. It’s unpopular, with only 16 percent support in one poll. It lacks a clear definition. Worst of all, it plays into the hands of law enforcement. The vague “defund” allows police groups to evoke the specter of a world in which rapists and murderers run free.

Anyone who has paid attention to police reform battles over the past few decades knows police groups excel at exploiting fear to fight change. They also know most voters will reject the idea of abolishing all police. Even Sen. Bernie Sanders has distanced himself from the “defund” language.

Hopefully, creative minds will find better ways to describe our need to comprehensively “rethink the role of police in society,” as Alex S. Vitale puts it in “The End of Policing.” The problem, after all, is bigger than policing. We must fundamentally transform our society into one that invests in care instead of cages.

This is a turning point, but change won’t come easy — and don’t imagine that it’s possible to remake public safety without overturning a political system hooked on police money.

To end police oppression, we must defund the politicians who get paid to serve and protect it.

This story was originally published June 12, 2020 at 5:00 AM.