Why is Violent Crime Increasing?

 I was shocked last month when finally returning to live choral rehearsals in Manhattan for the first time since the pandemic started. It was a joy to ride on half empty subways. But I was taken aback when the conductor asked if anybody wanted to finish the rehearsal early because they did not feel safe getting home.

 

Nobody spoke up, the rehearsal finished at the expected time, and I travelled home on the subway safely. It didn’t feel dangerous to me. But the comment of the conductor gave me pause for thought.

 

The first time I visited New York City was in 1982 as a tourist. I recall how shabby the city was. Walking only two or three blocks from Times Square, I took a wrong turning and immediately felt unsafe, the subject of prying eyes sizing up my potential for robbery. I understand things became worse by 1990, before Rudy Giuliani became mayor, launched zero tolerance, and started the clean up. Coming to live in the city from 2012, I have been a beneficiary. I am not especially careful about where and how I get about, yet I have not once felt unsafe here.

 

New York is not alone. I first lived in London in the early 1980’s, and my landlady in Herne Hill took out an A to Z on my first night there and pointed out various local streets and neighbourhoods that I should avoid. I suspect the need for such caution is much less now.

 

And yet the last eighteen months has seen worrying increases in violent crime in many cities in the developed world. Of course the papers and social media and even the police exaggerate the problem, quoting eye-popping percentages. Why do we overuse percentages so much? If Covid is up 300% in my district I don’t really care if the base line is low enough, yet I have to research in order to discover what that base line is.

 

Still, undoubtedly there is a problem. Gun crime, homicide and violent assault are all on the rise. Eric Adams captured the popular mood to win the mayoral primary. My conductor had been taken in by the scaremongering, but increasing violence is not good, and what if it is going to get worse? It is certainly worth trying to understand the causes.

 

To start to analyse the possible causes of the increase in violent crime requires first trying to understand why violent crime decreased so much in the long period before. Giuliani got things started in a positive direction, but violence has continued to reduce markedly ever since until the recent uptick. And Giuliani cannot take all the credit, because the same trend took root everywhere, including places where zero tolerance never became a mantra.

 

Still, smarter policing surely played a role. Perhaps more valuable than zero tolerance has been the use of technology, with lots of cameras to solve crimes and lots of data to pinpoint neighbourhoods for focused effort.

 

Demographics always play an important role in trends. In the USA, the number of people aged 15-22, the cohort responsible for most crime, decreased steadily since the millennium, but has ticked upwards recently (though it is set to decline again soon). Smaller families offer a second benefit too, because the number of kids growing up in chaotic surroundings will be fewer.

 

Improved education for the most disadvantaged kids must have played a role, as well as other public policies such as rehabilitation of the homeless and those leaving prison and support for children of poor families. The USA still lags in all of these areas, but I can believe that what efforts exist have become gradually more efficient. Other policies should not be overlooked either. It is reputed that lead in the water, formerly ubiquitous, caused young brains to be anxious and potentially more violent. Nutrition does not appear to have improved much, but faltering efforts to reduce salt and sugar, especially in school meals, may have helped as well.

 

Then there is more professional crime. My image of the hardened criminal has changed since the 1990’s, from somebody roaming the streets stealing cars and prone to violence when provoked, to somebody at a computer terminal hacking bank accounts. The latter probably does more societal harm, but is surely less violent. Probably many gangs have taken up less violent methods as well.

 

Hence the context of the recent rise in violent crime is a long trend of reduction, probably caused by a combination of causes, many of which are still in play today. So what is different that might have reversed the trend?

 

The most obvious difference is the pandemic, and the increase in violence seemed to start around about when the pandemic struck. My image here is of somebody becoming steadily more desperate and eventually succumbing to violence. The pandemic has made life seem hopeless at times, and being cooped up in an unhappy home without the social outlets of school or activities must have been tough for many.

 

An extreme example of this came to mind yesterday when I attended a funeral, and the priest told a story about an incident that reminded him of his mortality and led him to think about the really important things in life, love and kindness. We should indeed live each day as if it were our last. But what about somebody in anger or despair? Might such thinking during the pandemic have led people into reckless acts? If life is truly hopeless, how about taking out the partner you have lived in misery with for that last decade?

 

The second factor that has clearly changed since 2020 is policing. George Floyd and the ensuing protests will have made police intelligence and community work more difficult, and some police may be choosing to avoid tough situations for fear of becoming the next Derek Chauvin. In New York, we have one more factor. The start of 2020 saw a major change to the use of bail, which had previously been used to keep habitually violent people locked away in Rikers Island for long stretches, despite not having been convicted. Now more of them are on the streets, and more violence is a likely consequence, however well intentioned the reform.

 

No doubt police practice will find a more healthy balance again over time as wise voices prevail and lessons are learned. The pandemic will pass too. So can we expect the more positive trends on violence to resume soon? Perhaps, but could it also be that the pandemic has simply accelerated a trend that would be occurring anyway? If the latter view is correct, we can expect more violence in the near future, not less.

 

Pessimists might extrapolate from my story of the one whose anger bubbles up until it explodes into violence. It is not only the pandemic that makes this more likely. In the USA, Trump stirred up enormous pent up anger that shows no sign of abating. Social media and popular culture make us believe we can achieve anything, yet most of us cannot. Many may mortgage their future on some hustle, or a self-image, or reckless behaviour, only to see everything collapse. Watching baseball nowadays, most adverts between innings are for sports betting – one more temptation for the unwary. For vulnerable young men, the wonderful march of female emancipation will have made some angrier as well.

 

All these societal trends are accelerating, so perhaps we are in for a prolonged period of more violence. Of course it does not help at all in the USA that guns are so readily available, so the angry have ready means to create havoc. A different possibility is all about gangs and organised crime. Perhaps something has changed recently in that landscape. If so, I have no idea what it can be.

 

The decline in violence has surprised many experts, and there is still much debate about its causes. No doubt the same will be true of the reversal of the trend. There are certainly many possible factors to consider. We might have reached an unfortunate tipping point, or we made simply be seeing a negative blip in a positive story. Let us hope it is the latter.         

Children and Cultures

 My daughter was brought up between the ages of seven and eighteen in Sweden, Norway and the Netherlands. One day I was even more smug than usual when I read a report listing these three countries among the leading five in the world for bringing up children. I could understand why that was.

 

The key to the culture in these countries was that the child would be offered agency as early as possible, so the child would get involved in decisions earlier than in most cultures. A consequence is some degree of risk, since the child may not be fully mature to make good decisions, but the reward of earlier learning and independence was deemed to be worth it. I agree.

 

I became accustomed to seeing seven-year-old kids cycling through city streets with a heavy backpack. At first this not only reckless but also cruel, and we were always on the cautious side with our daughter. But I came to realize that few kids were injured, and all developed skills and maturity more quickly. By the age of sixteen my daughter had experimented with all the teenage vices that are frowned upon by conservative parents and are often illegal in other countries. She worked out the pros and cons for herself and had moved on already from things where danger outweighed passing thrills. Of course such lessons became more embedded for having been discovered rather than enforced. But I have to confess to a few sleepless nights along the way.

 

Recalling this and linking it with some observations about different societies has led me to a new four box model. We can call the dimensions tools and scope. The tools dimension considers how much children, or whole societies, are encouraged to develop a toolkit for life. Education is the most obvious component of this dimension, but it needs to be defined widely and supplemented by other elements. The toolkit grows if formal education encourages questions, and if parents and other caregivers have the chance (and take it) to teach wider life skills.

 

There are other, more complex influences. Does society make learning simpler or more complicated? How much misinformation is out there? How much genuine debate? I found Sweden and the Netherlands excellent in all of these respects.

 

The second dimension of the model is scope. In a child, how much are they encouraged to explore and to find their own way? The seven-year-old cyclist is the poster child for high scope. A high scope society offers many paths without too much cultural or parental or governmental baggage in the way.

 

Progress can be seen as navigating a path whereby both tools and scope are expanded in parallel. Not even the Dutch think that newborns should be cycling, or that five-year-olds should choose careers. Parents should initially choose, before gradually stepping back to roles as a safety net and then a coach. The issue is whether tools or scope have the higher emphasis and how fast the overall development is allowed to move.

 

There are risks when tools and scope become out of balance. A child with many tools but no scope may become frustrated, rebelling against perceived limitations. A child with lots of scope and few tools will make many costly mistakes by taking on challenges he or she is not equipped for.

 

It may be a bit of a stretch, but we can extend the model from children to whole societies. We can also define the boxes by low tool and low scope, high tool and low scope, high tool and high scope, and low tool and high scope.

 

An example of a low tool, low scope society would be Saudi Arabia. Religious doctrine confines education and the family and the mosque have a big input towards acceptable choices for everybody. High tool and low scope could be China or Japan. Education and knowledge is prized, but culture sets limits for exploration. High tool and high scope would be the Netherlands. High low tool and high scope could be the USA or Brazil. Here education is mixed, knowledge sources are chaotic, but ambition is unlimited.

 

I could characterize the boxes by C words. Low-low is controlled or closed. High-low is conjoined or conflict focused (like an army). High-high is collective, but can be coddled or complacent. Low-high is competitive (between individuals), and chaotic.

 

There are no guarantees. Children or societies and all the boxes can fail spectacularly. The four boxes can respectively create the jihadist, the fascist, the mad scientist and the angry lone killer.

 

Most of us would agree that navigating carefully to develop both skills and scope is of benefit, to both kids and societies, so long as disasters can be averted. It might also be the case that deviating too far in one direction is especially dangerous. High-Low demands compliance and may cause a desire for rebellion to grow, such as the Arab spring. Low-High can become very unequal and exploitative and tough for the weak.

 

For most of my life, I have been indoctrinated to believe that low-high is better than high-low. Low-high allows democracy, and innovation, and individual liberty, while High-low can lead to Hitler. But the respective states of China and the USA at the moment cause me to challenge my assumption. High-Low is clear, efficient and focused, so long as there is no capture by a tyrant or loss of credibility.

 

Look at Covid. The societies that have performed the best are generally High-Low. China, Korea, Taiwan and even Germany have managed to gain support from an informed and educated public for policies to contain the spread. It does not surprise me that Sweden (and the Netherlands to an extent) was an outlier, delaying lockdowns and relying on intelligent public response. The closed societies have performed well, partly because people move about less. And the Low-Highs have seen the worst outcomes. Misinformation, distrust in institutions, inequality and a perceived value in personal liberty have all hampered efforts to suppress Covid. Perhaps Covid is merely a symptom of a general malaise in these places: is the Low-High model unsustainable?

 

Whether we lean towards High-Low and Low-High is determined by cultural factors and the starting point. A classic example is the fall of the Iron Curtain, where High-Low societies were encouraged to become High-High or even Low-High overnight. The change was initially highly counter-productive. Perhaps the same could be said of the Arab spring. Societies should move cautiously in this particular four-box-model. The same could apply to families: rapid attitudinal change by parents, perhaps following a divorce, can be too difficult to absorb by a growing child.

 

This model is far from clean, but I am finding it interesting to think through. Anything that can seem to draw links between Covid response, parenting and the advantages of US or Chinese models is of interest to me. I will enjoy developing this idea.  

Just Deserts

 We have just returned from two and a half lovely weeks in Dubai. It was far too hot to be outdoors very often, but that did not matter, since our goal was to spend time with our beautiful first grandchild, who grew from four weeks to six weeks old during our visit.

 

So the title of this blog could have referred to the land that Dubai is built on – just deserts. At a pinch, it could also be referring to some of the all-you-can-eat brunch meals favoured by privileged Dubai expats, even if those rarely consist of just desserts. But instead it is about what we deserve, and how the idea is so dangerous to us.

 

This thought came about before the trip, but the lifestyle in Dubai only strengthened my idea. It is possible to look down on how people live there, owing to its lack of history and rather thin culture, but overall the top strata of society do very well. Unless you are local, you have to accept that you can be deported at a moment’s notice and your access to justice can be rather limited, but the other side of that equation is a modern place where everything works well, leisure is abundant and ambitious people can easily find a satisfying social life. Part of me still finds it sad that, offered the chance to build a project from scratch to represent an ideal human existence, the result seems to comprise endless shopping malls. But hey, those malls are impressive as malls go.

 

I know from my own expatriate experiences that one risk with such a lifestyle is that we can come to think we deserve it. In a limited sense, perhaps some of them do. It is always a brave move to leave the comforts of home, even if the salary and tax structure are appealing and those malls entice. Many people have the opportunity but lack the bravery, so those that do have earned some of their rewards.

 

But even looking around Dubai it should be clear that those deserts are rather questionable and can be transient too. Society there functions by dividing its residents into strata. The locals and wealthy Arabs sit atop the structure: anybody born in Dubai is given substantial land and money on their eighteenth birthday. Then come the white corporate expats, followed by the Arab and Chinese merchants. Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, Africans and Filipinos, who build the new structures, drive the taxis and work in retail and as domestic helpers, underpin society. For each of these groups, the life they can enjoy in Dubai is better than that available at home, but still far from the comfort of the privileged strata. Then there are the billions of people who have no chance at all of making it to Dubai or anywhere like it, simply because of the circumstances of their birth.

 

Enjoying dessert at the end of brunch, overlooking the marina yachts and anticipating a return to a cleaned apartment and fed children, it is easy to forget humility. I am delighted to note that the people I met this trip, including my own family members, have not generally fallen into the trap.

 

Feeling deserts is simply setting ourselves up to fail and be miserable. It is especially true in a place like Dubai, where privileges can be fleeting and a return to normality in a home country can be tough, after opulent habits have become entrenched. But it is true in any situation. I love the expression that an expectation is a preordained disappointment. A feeling of deserving something is much the same thing. It is far better to be grateful for what we have and for life to be a series of happy surprises.

 

On the two long flights, I deliberately chose entertainment to help me remember that none of us deserve very much. Avoiding traditional Hollywood fare, I found Illegals and also Minari, both excellent films about immigrants to the USA. And I read The Language of Kindness – a Nurse’s Story. Our granddaughter might be lucky in life and might not, and that book reminded me that most such things depend on chance and that Kiara has already been lucky, born with fully functioning organs.

 

Like other female professions, nurses do wonderful work for poor rewards. Getting to know such people can help to ground us and avoid thoughts of what we might deserve. In a similar way, so can volunteering. One thing I learned very quickly where we volunteer was not to expect any gratitude. That may not always feel fair, but it is healthy to recognise it.

 

Many individualistic societies slip into unhealthy territory when it comes to deserts and expectations. Hollywood does not help, and nor does most advertising. Every time some voiceover tells me I deserve a fancy car or vanity health treatment I feel like shouting at the TV. Admittedly addictive, Love Island has the same effect on me. How can those young people be so unaware of their greed and the context of their existence?

 

Many of us are lucky to have lived in an era without wars or hardships and where many luxuries have become normal. Covid gave us a jolt, and also showed how pampered we have become. When complaining about having to wear a mask and being deprived of some restaurants, it would pay us to remember disabled people or those without running water or electricity.

 

As so often, religion is a double-edged sword when it comes to our attitudes. Religion can steer us towards kindness, gratitude and charity. But sometimes we can misinterpret or be misled so we expect rewards, even in this life. Even worse, religion can make us believe that our own tribe is somehow more deserving than the rest of humanity. That way of thinking never leads anywhere positive.

 

Politics can go the same way. Phrases such as “Hard working Americans” are code towards unrealistic expectations and protecting unjust privilege, while perpetually disadvantaged groups can too easily fall into victimhood. The Trump clan are led into all the rabbit holes at once. Often already in a tribal mindset from their religious interpretations, they can easily fall prey to feeling superior, unjustly treated and under threat all at the same time. If the belief becomes strong enough, then leaders can discard all logic and still retain support. In this way of thinking, even if the methods might be questionable, the cause feels right and the ends justify the means.

 

The last weeks have helped to remind me that I deserve very little and owe huge gratitude for what I have, mostly by lucky chance. I guess I was a little brave when I was younger. I suppose I can have a small expectation that having put money into a pension scheme I might get some back in old age. I suppose that, having invested some effort and a modicum of kindness into parenthood, my children might offer some kindness in return. I suppose I can even rely a little bit on some justice and human rights.

 

But there are no guarantees. I can hope with all my heart that my granddaughter has a fruitful life. I will try to help where I can to make such an outcome more likely. But I can’t expect it. And perhaps, innocent though she is, I can’t even say she deserves it. May God save me from my expectations.