There’s a crime wave. Why are Tarrant police stopping some arrests for pot, theft?
Dallas County does it. So do the blue counties of Harris, Bexar and Travis.
Ideas deployed in those areas sometimes draw skepticism in more-Republican Tarrant County. But here comes cite and release, a concept that will spare a large number of criminals from the stigma of arrest.
Tarrant law-enforcement leaders announced Monday that local police departments and individual officers will have the latitude to write tickets for many offenders who have historically been arrested and escorted to jail. The list of offenses is not long, but it contains crimes committed routinely by innumerable people, including possession of less than four ounces of marijuana, theft or criminal mischief below $750 and graffiti below $2,500.
Cite and release is not a county-wide universal jail rescue for this crowd of offenders; it is promoted as a tool that can simplify procedures and cut costs. Cuffing and booking lawbreakers is not cheap; handing these people a ticket and a court date saves time and money.
But is it right?
I’m as eager as anyone to help law enforcement streamline operations. Some local police officials seem thoroughly enthused. My natural inclination would be to nod in agreement.
I can’t. Maybe it’s the times we’re slogging through, featuring crime waves across America fueled by misbehavior born of outright contempt for law and order. Maybe it’s violent offenders escaping consequences after a season of rioting.
Maybe it’s politicians suggesting the defunding of police, adding to the image of lighter enforcement even as our crime problem grows. It all adds up to a worrisome erosion of the concept of consequences for bad actions.
Crime is not binary. Society does not break down into the purely law-abiding and wanton criminals. Between those two poles is a large group of people who may or may not make bad decisions on a given day.
What prospect often restrains them from illegal choices? The imagery of being loaded into the back of a police cruiser for a jarring introduction to jail, even for a brief booking process. Take that away, and some terrible acts are reduced at first to the mild sting of a traffic ticket.
There will be a court date and, one presumes, the doling out of punishment harsher than for speeding. But instead of a drug bust or a theft leading to a shocking immediate consequence, defendants can stuff a citation into their pockets, circle a date on the calendar and plan dinner.
The crimes eligible for cite and release are described as “low-level.” Compared to a vicious assault or a bank robbery, sure.
But imagine three criminals: One is caught with 3.9 ounces of pot, which is a dealer-caliber satchel of weed. The second just stole an item from you that cost $749. The third just tagged your property with a pastiche of graffiti that will cost $2,499 to clean up.
What could these folks have in common under cite and release? “Here’s your citation, sir or madam, see you on the assigned date, have a nice day.”
Pardon me for thinking an appreciable number of people are wary of the back of a police car but wholly undaunted by the genteel interaction of a ticket.
Police officers can be trusted not to afford this latitude to genuinely undeserving suspects, and Tarrant County District Attorney Sharen Wilson offers assurances that prosecutions will ensue.
But the trauma of capture and arrest is a legendary deterrent that keeps countless people leaning just short of committing crime every day. Losing that disincentive may not serve us well.
Mark Davis hosts a morning radio show on 660-AM and at 660amtheanswer.com. Follow him on Twitter: @markdavis.
