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Thursday, May 11, 2017
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
OPINION

O

n April 18, the Los Angeles
Police Department adopted
new rules that require police

officers to try to defuse situations before
firing a weapon. Regardless of how
disturbing it is that police departments
were previously not operating under
these guidelines, one would expect this
to mitigate police brutality. With this
new rule and growing backlash toward
law enforcement agencies, police are
surely on their way toward reformation
and improvement, right? While this is
a step in the right direction, it does not
address what is inherently incorrect
about police: its principles.

In every institution, especially

government institutions, principles
and values are areas of fierce debate.
In fact, the core principle of the size of
government is a contributing factor
toward the divide in contemporary
U.S. politics. Some argue that with
bigger government, one sacrifices
freedom. Alternatively, others cite
that with smaller government, one
compromises safety. This continuum
that measures security and freedom is
often debated among those discussing
surveillance, national security and
other partisan issues. However, the
continuum that is more pressing to the
morality of U.S. law enforcement is that
of safety and justice. That is to suggest
that many times, justice is sacrificed in
the name of safety. Specifically, modern
law enforcement prioritizes safety over
justice, and this prioritization punishes
lower-income
African
Americans

for the unsafe conditions in which
they often live. Alternatively, a focus
on justice could spur reformations

resulting in equity among races.

Safety and justice are principles that

collide with each other, but cannot exist
without the other. To put it in concrete
terms, justice refers to the equal and
fair treatment of an individual under
the law. Alternatively, safety is the law’s
protection of an individual from any
danger or threat to their life. There
is often a sacrifice made to prioritize
one over the other. Obviously, safety
could not truly exist without a level of
justice, and vice versa. For instance,
a country fully prioritizing justice of
all people would allow every Muslim
immigrant into its country despite
potential terrorist threats. Here, the
Muslim immigrant’s justice is valued
higher than the complete safety of
residents. Alternatively, a country fully
prioritizing safety would not permit
any Muslim immigrants into the
country despite the millions of innocent
Muslims who are not terrorists. Here,
the immigrant’s justice is sacrificed for
the safety of the resident.

The
trend
of
police
generally

prioritizing safety over justice is an
unsurprising one. The United States has
a retributive justice system — meaning
it punishes crime — and is naturally
focused on safety. Many will argue
safety is always of paramount concern,
and if all people’s safety is valued
equally, the system is flawless. This is
problematic because a prioritization
of safety is inherently a punitive focus.
That is to say a police force that looks
to safety as its guiding principle will
always punish those that exist in
unsafe conditions. Social conditions
such as poverty, low employment rates

and lower educational attainment
produce unsafe communities, and
these conditions are frequently found
in African-American-dominated and
lower-income communities. This is
to suggest that safety guides police to
disproportionately target Blacks and
the poor. Alternatively, a priority on
justice is reformative. By focusing on
justice, the social conditions that put
safety at risk can become more salient
and addressable. Instead of punishing
Blackness, justice looks to improve the
environment of Blacks in America.

This is exemplified through modern

developments in predictive policing.
The
Marshall
Project
examined

HunchLab, a crime-predicting program
that “surveys past crimes, but also
digs into dozens of other factors like
population density; census data; the
locations of bars, churches, schools,
and transportation hubs; schedules for
home games — even moon phases.”
HunchLab predicts where crime is
likely to be, then sends police to patrol
that area more heavily. Craig Atkinson’s
documentary “Do Not Resist” also
examines a predictive policing program,
LACER. LACER goes as far as to predict
whether or not a person will be a
criminal based off of historical actions,
age, sex, race and other characteristics.
This is exemplary of law enforcement’s
emphasis on safety as a principle. Police
departments send more officers to
confront areas and individuals more
likely to be unsafe. Alternatively, a
philosophy of justice may lead police
departments to send more beneficial
resources toward the areas and
individuals. Safety will punish those

NISA KHAN

EDITOR IN CHIEF

SARAH KHAN

EDITORIAL PAGE EDITOR

DAYTON HARE

MANAGING EDITOR

420 Maynard St.

Ann Arbor, MI 48109

tothedaily@michigandaily.com

Edited and managed by students at

the University of Michigan since 1890.

Justice is more important than safety

in these high-risk situations; whereas
justice will address the conditions that
make it high risk. That is to reinforce
that justice can be more reformative,
and ultimately generate larger change
than safety can.

This being said, the responsibility

does not all lie on law enforcement.
It is imperative that citizens start to
bear the responsibility as well. In his
book, “Between the World and Me,”
Ta-Nehisi Coates writes, “I called
politicians and questioned them. I
was told that the citizens were more
likely to ask for police support than to
complain about brutality… According

to this theory ‘safety’ was a higher
value than justice, perhaps the highest
value.” Here, it’s made clear that even
citizens value safety over justice, that
“the destruction of the black body is
incidental to the preservation of order.”
If any changes are going to be made
in law enforcement, it is essential that
there be a reformation within ourselves
and at the University of Michigan. Our
values must change. If justice is to be
upheld by the police, we must start to
prioritize it as well.

—Brennan Pope can be

reached at popeb@umich.edu.

Carolyn Ayaub
Megan Burns

Samantha Goldstein

Caitlin Heenan
Jeremy Kaplan

Sarah Khan

Anurima Kumar

Ibrahim Ijaz
Max Lubell

Lucas Maiman

Alexis Megdanoff
Madeline Nowicki
Anna Polumbo-Levy

Jason Rowland

Ali Safawi

Sarah Salman
Kevin Sweitzer

Rebecca Tarnopol

Stephanie Trierweiler
Anna Polumbo-Levy

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Editorial Board.

All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.

BRENNAN POPE | COLUMN

LENA DREVES | COLUMN

Fully known

E

aster morning stands out in
my mind from all the collected
memories of my childhood.

My parents would take my five siblings
and me to church. In a sense of quiet
reverie, we would listen to the grief of
Jesus’s rejection by mankind, and how
his ultimate love overcame it all when
He rose from the dead. As I sat in that
hard pew, fully embracing the love I felt
from the story of Jesus’s resurrection, I
dedicated my heart to always being full of
love and acceptance like Him.

This dedication in my heart has

been the reason I am able to overcome
a destructive belief that LGBTQ-
identifying individuals are somehow
“sinners” — from certain Christian
perspectives — and the reason I have
been able to accept myself as an individual
attracted to the same sex. Ironic, isn’t
it? That faith and love can overcome
religion? I can continue in this dedication
of love only because I have first received
love for who I was. I accept myself and
others because I have been accepted by
this love. This is my Christianity. Some
call it Christianity with a little “c”, some
call it spirituality and some call me
religious. However, for me, it is Love. It is
what I want to receive and what I want to
give away.

I didn’t fully understand what love

meant until I felt hate, and I didn’t
fully understand acceptance until I felt
rejection. I knew I was gay since I was 17
years old. It took me four years to accept
this part of who I am. Though my religion
told me I was sinning to accept my identity,
it ironically supported me and helped
me accept myself. This contradiction
changed the way I thought about religion
and Christianity specifically. The same
heart that surrendered fully to this God
I’ve come to know was the heart that
knew it was falling in love with a girl. The
same heart felt His love and acceptance.

The word “intersectionality” was used

throughout the winter semester in my
Women’s Studies class. I believe I didn’t
fully understand the wisdom of the word

‘intersectional’ until recently. The day my
mom told me, over the phone, she would
not be attending my wedding, I felt I could
identify — if only a little — with minority
individuals battling the majority. It was
only after that week that I understood
intersectionality. An individual cannot
be “partially” accepted. A Black woman
cannot be accepted as a woman without
being fully accepted for being Black. An
LGBTQAI-identifying individual cannot
be accepted as a white person without
being accepted for their sexuality. Who
we are is not divisible. All the books I
read and the movies I ever watched about
minority groups experiencing rejection
seemed to float through my mind that
week: the civil rights movement, women
suffrage, the entire LGBTQ community
— all brought to mind an understanding of
the rejection of minorities simply because
of one factor that was “not acceptable”
about them, according to society. Some
are the wrong color, some are the wrong
gender and some love the wrong sex.

If I went to get a tattoo today, I would

tattoo the words “fully known” from 1
Corinthian 13:12. It states: “For now, we
see only a reflection as in a mirror; then
we shall see face to face. Now I know in
part; then I shall know fully, even as I
am fully known”. I find it incredible
that God fully knows us, yet also
chooses to fully love us. Love chooses
to see beyond external characteristics,
to not be afraid of individuals who are
different, and to embrace the uncertain.
Love does not fear. Without fear, I am
free to be who I know myself to be.
Because of love, and because of God,
I am able to allow myself to be fully
known without the fear of rejection.
The love may come from those around
us — or may not for now. However, by
choosing to stand in the open, and live
according to who I am, I believe it will
give others the courage to do the same.

—Lena Dreves can be reached

at ldreves@umich.edu.