By now, millions of TV viewers have seen the video numerous times on
television: Two police officers are beating a man on the pavement. It’s
big news -- because a camera was there.
Robert Davis, a 64-year-old retired teacher, suffered injuries during
the incident on the night of Oct. 8 in New Orleans. He’s scheduled to go
on trial with charges that include resisting arrest and battery on one of
the police officers who beat him. But under the circumstances, the man on
the receiving end of the violence got lucky.
Ordinarily, there’s no evidence to dispute the accounts provided by
police officers after such violence occurs. The news media and the legal
system are oriented to accept the word of uniformed authorities and
discount the claims of defendants. For journalists and judges, the
official story becomes The Story.
Davis’ ordeal was unusual, and caused a national uproar, because an
Associated Press Television News crew happened to be near. But for every
exceptional incident that exposes official misconduct to national view,
there are countless deplorable events that never see the light of media
day.
Naturally, people are on their best behavior when they know they’re
being watched -- especially through a camera lens. And the worst behavior
comes when people assume that they aren’t being watched.
For journalists, the usual assumption is that there’s nothing to
report if nothing unusual takes place. Without video, there’s no story
when a bloodied suspect is taken into custody.
But people who’ve been incarcerated are apt to know something that
American media outlets rarely acknowledge: Beyond the glare of publicity
and outside of camera range, people in police custody and behind bars are
vulnerable to capricious and dangerous acts of violence by tax-funded
employees.
Overall, it’s a safe bet that news media would do a better job of
scrutinizing such institutionalized violence if the victims included
substantial numbers of affluent people. But it’s a truism that few
well-to-do people can be found in prison. A white-collar executive who
cuts legal corners is very unlikely to go to the slammer, even though a
wide range of corporate swindles are harmful to the well-being of the
public.
“We have a system shaped by economic bias from the start,” criminal
justice analyst Jeffrey H. Reiman wrote more than two decades ago. His
words still ring true. “The dangerous acts and crimes unique to the
wealthy are either ignored or treated lightly, while for the so-called
common crimes, the poor are far more likely than the well-off to be
arrested, if arrested charged, if charged convicted, and if convicted
sentenced to prison.”
Being poor is a big hazard when it comes to mistreatment by police
officers and the legal system. So is being a person of color. Robert Davis
is black. And while we might say that what happened to him could have
happened to anyone, his race was a very significant risk factor.
The outcry over the video of police officers beating Davis may seem
to offer reassurance that the news media are concerned about fair play and
social justice. But journalism should involve much more than showing
footage that materializes by happenstance.
An underlying assumption, usually prevailing in newsrooms, is that
police officers and legal authorities are truthful but suspects and
prisoners are not. This assumption routinely prevents media outlets from
digging below the surface of stories.
Troubling questions remain. Such as: What are police officers doing
with suspects when no cameras are around? What’s going on behind bars? And
how can we hold police officers and prison guards accountable if we don’t
really know what they’re doing?
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Norman Solomon is the author of the new book “War Made Easy: How
Presidents and Pundits Keep Spinning Us to Death.” For information, go to:
www.WarMadeEasy.com