In his unusual address about race relations after the George Zimmerman trial, President Obama recounted personal experiences when people thought he was dangerous, or a criminal, because of his skin color. He was describing a social form of racial profiling, of reactions to him based solely–instantaneously–on his race. The official practice, while widely condemned, actually remains legal under federal law and in about 25 states. And in the wake of the president’s remarks, there’s a new push in Washington to ban racial profiling.
Under Supreme Court precedent, race can be used as a factor in policing, providing that the authorities demonstrate it is relevant to specific law enforcement goals. And many states and cities maintain the option of profiling as a police tactic–though few openly admit it.
New York City runs a sweeping program that inspects predominantly young minority males. Last year, under that “stop and frisk” policy, the NYPD conducted 532,000 searches of city residents. A striking 85% of the targets were racial minorities–almost double their share of the population. Those hundreds of thousands of black and Latino New Yorkers were presumed suspicious, and forced to stop, in public, and submit to searching and questioning.
The presumption was wrong.
NYPD data indicates that the vast majority of the search targets–89%–were innocent.
“I grew up in New York City and I was subjected to the same stops,” says Marquez Claxton, a former NYPD detective who retired in 2005 after 20 years on the force. Claxton says that while New York’s profiling policy clearly violates people’s rights, it will continue “until there’s a penalty for constitutional violations.”
Civil rights advocates agree. They insist the program is not only humiliating to hundreds of thousands of innocent New Yorkers, straining relations between police and law-abiding citizens, but that it is unconstitutional. A federal court in New York heard a challenge to the policy in May, and its ruling is expected in the coming months.
Mayor Michael Bloomberg continues to tout the program, but even he is careful to argue that it does not use racial profiling.
“Nobody racially profiles,” Bloomberg insisted last month, in response to questions about local legislation that could curb the practice.
It is telling that New York, a city with an unusually diverse and liberal political establishment, is so reliant on racial profiling that the policy has sparked federal lawsuits, city council battles and rancorous debate in the contest to replace a centrist and fairly popular mayor. (Most of the Democratic candidates oppose the policy.) In many other parts of the country, profiling continues with far less outcry.
While 25 states have, technically, passed legislation to discourage racial profiling, only 12 of those states actually ban it. Even then, if you’re looking for laws that penalize police found guilty of profiling, the number of states drops to five, as the ACLU documented in a 2009 report.
The outlook is similar at the federal level, where racial profiling is widely condemned, but rarely punished.
Policing the Police
Few national politicians embrace the prioritization of race in policing. President Bush even singled out the practice in his first State of the Union address, saying he planned “to end racial profiling” with input from the Justice Department.
“By stopping the abuses of a few,” the new Republican president argued in 2001, “we will add to the public confidence our police officers earn and deserve.”
The Justice Department followed up with new guidelines in 2003. While the policy was historic in some sense, it proved to be toothless.
The new rules marked the first time the U.S. federal government ever limited racial profiling across all law enforcement agencies. Some civil rights groups cheered that step, especially given incendiary debates about profiling Muslim Americans at the time (just two years after the 9/11 terror attacks). But the actual policy was ineffective.
The rules created key exceptions, such as national security cases and a loophole technique called an “assessment” inquiry. More critically, in a familiar dodge from state legislatures, the rules failed to provide any real enforcement mechanism, or punishment, for federal officials who engage in profiling.









