Column: Race, Crime and Police Reports

Something weird must be afoot when such an obvious distinction in a person's physical description is omitted from otherwise detailed lists of characteristics -- lists that often make mention of specifics such as weight, eyecolor, hairstyle, and even once . . . a nickel-plated gun. Why does this matter? Are we ever going to be able to match a simple newspaper description to one of the millions of people who live in Philadelphia? Probably not. And yet it really does matter -- it affects the ways we perceive and relate to other members of our community. Public reporting plays a part in determining the assumptions people make about race and crime. And yes, unfortunately, many assumptions abound. It is because of these assumptions that the University Police Department refuses to provide the DP with information about a suspect's skin color except in situations where it's specifically salient. And it's because of these assumptions that this issue deserves discussion. We should all hope that in this age and egalitarian environment we would all hold a common belief that a person's skin color has nothing to do with his or her abilities or faculties. And yet incidents of racism abound. It's too clear that even now, and even at the University, some people will read about crimes committed by black men and assume that they have a reason to fear black men more than white men. But here the police department might be making assumptions for us. The policy implicitly states that skin color carries with it a meaning beyond that of pure physical information. While designed to be sensitive, in paying special attention to skin color the policy actually may encourage readers to link the only real problem -- the crime -- with an issue that shouldn't even play a part -- race. Lately there has been a movement among groups to seek pride in their collectivity. One of the reasons why someone may wish to be identified as African American rather than as black is that the newer term refers to a heritage and a culture; it defines a positive ethnicity that goes beyond the mere two-dimensional factor of skin color. "African American" is a term of race and history, while "black" simply describes someone's skin. So in a police report, "black" or any other reference to color or physical characteristic should only be taken for what it is -- a description. No reader should make the leap from outward characteristics to either general racial attitudes or individual motivations. Race-related terms such as African American shouldn't be a part of police reports (and here they aren't). Why should we ask that ideas of multi-dimensional social history be brought into a realm where only physical specifics are important? Yet in a similar manner, the overtly purposeful omission of skin color may actually bring the issue of race into situations where it isn't really a factor. With the lack of an obvious piece of information in a long list of specifics, readers are encouraged to make assumptions on their own about a suspect's skin color. And when these assupmtions are made, I wouldn't doubt that all the racial baggage floating around in people's minds plays a part. Yes, most of the crimes committed in West Philadelphia involve people whose skin is black. But if eighty percent of the crimes are committed by blacks, it's only because eighty percent of the population is black -- not because the color of one's skin has anything to do with his or her propensity for criminal activity. But University Police's policy tells us to think about crime first. From that information -- in combination with our past experiences and the perpetuation of stereotypes throughout society -- we are then to make our own guess as to a person's race. I wonder what the pattern of guessing is. Does the guessing benefit our community more than the risk of mentioning a suspect's skin color (not implying race) when it's known? It's too bad that there is no clear answer. On the one hand, reporting a barrage of crimes that often happen to be committed by blacks could reinforce a reader's general perspective that blacks commit crime. On the other, people look at a crime and think, "black." We should decide which method creates the least troubling of the two consequences. We should ask what place a police department has in deciding the public effects of including skin color in crime reporting. Stuart Sperling is a senior Communications major from Rye, New York. Oh, The Humanity! appears alternate Tuesdays.

Please note All comments are eligible for publication in The Daily Pennsylvanian.