Wednesday, February 18, 2015

The Misconduct of State Actors and the Expansion of the State’s Violence

One idea that came up today in my discussion with my independent study advisor was the concept of “categories of representations,” idea that states that people’s perception of things conform to their idea of what it should be, the assumption that people, things, or actions that fall within a certain social category or role always act accordingly with that role. In the context that we were speaking of, we were talking about the largely unknown but horrific behavior of prison guards against prisoners behind prison walls. My professor talked about how it’s always very difficult to indict let alone convict prison guards of misconduct, even though it is rampant and obvious, because people have a hard time believing (or coming to terms with the fact) that “prison guards,” members of a specific state-sanctioned social order, could act in inappropriate and disorderly ways. This brings together many issues, one of which is the almost blind faith most citizens put in the state and the authority of the state, that any agent of the state, including individual actors, only work for good because they work for the benevolent state. Besides the fact that the state is the most violent actor in our social order and therefore any agent of the state is also complicit and active in that violence, individual state actors can and do act independently of their state-sanctioned roles.

The massive inability of many citizens to be seriously critical of the behavior of state actors like prison guards is problematic for many reasons. One of which is that individuals under the protection of the state due to their social positioning (i.e. as prison guards) are rarely held accountable for their wrongdoing. And second of all, the notion that the state is benevolent even when it (through its agents) enacts terrible amounts of violence minimizes the culpability of a social order that produces this state-sanctioned violence and instead serves to justify that violence under the notion that if the state is doing it, then it must be appropriate (even when it’s clearly not).

This can be seen in a lot of conversations surrounding the non-indictment of Darren Wilson, the police officer who shot and killed 18-year-old Michael Brown in Ferguson, MO in August. Many of Wilson’s supporters defended his actions by claiming that he was “just doing his job.” It’s appalling and quite ridiculous that anyone would intimate that shooting and killing unarmed teenagers now falls under the purview of “just doing one’s job” for a police officer. In fact, their job really is to handle and subdue violent individuals with the least amount of bodily and physical damage possible. And the “just doing your job” argument doesn’t hold up with the whole “self-defense” argument either. Either you were doing your job, which now includes killing unarmed people, or you were defending yourself – because your job is certainly not to start fights with “dangerous” people for no reason so that you then have to use deadly force in order to defend yourself against them. This example shows how the categories of representations serve to distort and warp an egregious act of police misconduct. Benevolent police officers, actors of the benevolent state, cannot just kill people for no reason. That does not fit within the schema that we as a society have created for our law enforcement. In this way, expectations do not only define reality, but reality defines expectations. Police officers shoot unarmed people (reality). That now must mean shooting unarmed people is part of the job of police officers (expectation).

This not only keeps us from recognizing police misconduct when we see it before our very own eyes (in the case of Eric Garner) but also justifies that violence by expanding the role of the state actor who committed that violence. An illustration in my head is of a fenced off area that encompasses the appropriate behavior of any state actor. When he/she steps out of that area, instead of a public that says, “Look! He/she just stepped out! That’s wrong!” we expand that space in our minds to now encompass the area in which that actor stepped into. You can see how this obviously expands the breadth of violence and misconduct we allow individual actors to conduct. Mind you, these are all individual behaviors, but they act in the name of the state and with permission of the state. Therefore, they are state-sanctioned behaviors. While individuals are not the system, the more we allow individuals to get away with in the name of a system (i.e. killing an unarmed black person because you’re a police officer or killing someone by throwing them in a shower of boiling hot water because you’re a prison guard – yes this did happen), the greater the purview, control, and violence we allow the state to have over all of us as the general public.

We must turn a more critical lens on what exactly it is that we allow our state and its actors to do in our name. We have to disavow ourselves of the idea that just because someone acts in the name of the state that they also act in the best interest of the people (1) because individuals are not systems, so even if for some bizarre reason, you have faith in the system, that doesn’t necessarily mean you should have faith in every actor of that system and 2) because the United States has routinely enacted violence against people of color, women, queer folks, and foreigners throughout its history and continues to do so to this day).


Saturday, January 24, 2015

The Prison as Defining Criminality

One idea that came up during my discussion with my independent advisor was how crime comes to characterize imprisonment. We were talking about white-collar crime, and my professor noted the way that people generally cannot understand how to respond to crime or any wrongdoing without reverting to the prison as the only site of addressing crime. So even when other alternatives might exist, it’s hard for most individuals to think beyond the carceral logic. I added to that by saying that imprisonment also comes to characterize crime, not just in people’s inability to respond to crime without invoking the prison but people’s inability to recognize crime in situations where the prison isn’t involved. That’s why white collar and Wall Street crime, while way more severe than the vast majority of crimes that people are currently incarcerated for, goes all but unnoticed in our social order.

While most people can recognize that these are examples of clear wrongdoing, it is not regarded with the same degree of severity as nonviolent “crimes” against property or drug offences. The latter category of crime also does not cause direct physical damage to any person but still counts as somehow damaging enough to society that they are processed through the criminal justice system as serious offenses warranting imprisonment for perpetrators. Usually because in cases of white-collar crime, it is hard to place blame on any individuals (although definitely not impossible), the logic of imprisonment doesn’t seem to make as much sense in those situations and because crime is characterized by imprisonment (and vise-versa), it must not really be a crime if we can’t find someone to go to jail for it (or we just don’t want to).

This also brings into play the racialized and class nature of all notions of “crime” and “criminality,” since the majority of people in prison for non-violent offenses are people of color and those most likely to commit white collar crime are, well, white. The characterization of people of color, specifically blacks, as more prone to criminality translates to harsher and more punitive responses to “black crime” by the criminal justices system (most “black crime” actually being a consequence of lower economic and educational opportunities) than to stereotypically “white crime” even when the damage to individuals and society is greater in the latter case.

Constructions of criminality also require an attention to the individual and not to the systems that produced the individual. By focusing on black criminality as a trait of individual blacks, society can ignore myriad systems of racial discrimination and disenfranchisement that result in black criminality and, instead, use locking individuals up as a way of “handling” crime. The way the public responds to white-collar crime also displays an inability to understand criminal behavior in the context of social systems that produce criminality. By looking (and failing) to find individuals to lock up, we as a public can ignore entire capitalist systems that are “criminal” or corrupt that produce criminal and corrupt capitalist behavior as the norm. 

Understanding how to address wrongdoings at a systemic level, not just at the level of the individual, is essential to ridding ourselves of the carceral logic because prison as a system depends on an individualized understanding of crime. Part of that is transferring attention away from the individual behavior of perpetrators and onto the individuals and communities that the wrongdoing affects. By defining our response to crime as reducing harm, righting wrongs, and building back broken communities instead of putting some “bad guy” in jail, we can move from an individualized, racialized, and punitive understanding of crime to one that acknowledges systemic factors and aims to restore instead of punish.