In just the past couple of weeks, America has witnessed a string of violent crimes that captured national attention — from the federal hate‑crime sentencing of a Washington man who stabbed a Black woman on a Metro bus, to a 30‑year sentence for a Memphis offender who carried out multiple armed robberies while firing his weapon. Over Memorial Day weekend alone, major cities saw a surge of multi‑victim shootings: four injured in Cincinnati, three killed in Dallas, and four more wounded in Philadelphia. These incidents, occurring across different states and circumstances, reinforce the urgent need for strong public‑safety leadership, tough criminal justice, and meaningful support for the officers and agencies confronting these threats every day.
Every time a violent incident captures national attention, the response from public officials follows a familiar script: “This is unacceptable. It will not be tolerated.” It’s the right sentiment — and an understandable one. But after the press conferences end and the headlines fade, hard questions linger. If this level of violence is truly unacceptable, why has there been so little change in our criminal justice system? And why is there such a disconnect between reports of declining crime and a continuing sense of unease among most Americans?
Let’s start with the criminal justice system — and its failures. A small number of repeat violent offenders are responsible for a disproportionate share of serious crime. This has been documented for decades. The U.S. Department of Justice (DOJ) has repeatedly found that 5–6% of offenders commit 50% or more of violent crimes. In Washington, D.C., a 2023 study found that roughly 500 individuals — less than 1% of the city’s population — were linked to 70% of gun violence. Yet our justice system continues to go easy on these chronic offenders at the expense of the public.
Leonard Sipes, a respected criminal justice analyst, notes that the average person arrested for a violent crime has been arrested 12 or more times previously, based on DOJ recidivism data. When criminal justice becomes a revolving door, deterrence collapses and communities pay the price. If we are serious about reducing violence, then focusing on the small number of chronic offenders who drive most of it is one of the most direct, evidence‑based strategies available.
Part of the disconnect between crime data and public perception lies with the reporting itself. The FBI’s Uniform Crime Report (UCR) — the source most often cited — is based on crimes reported to police. But most crimes in America are never reported. According to the Department of Justice’s National Crime Victimization Survey (NCVS) — a far more comprehensive measure — only 42–45% of violent crimes and about 33% of property crimes are reported.
The FBI reported a significant 4.5% decrease in violent crime between 2023 and 2024, including a nearly 15% drop in murders. But the NCVS showed that overall violent victimization remained statistically unchanged during that same period — a finding that aligns more closely with what most Americans feel in their daily lives.
To be clear, there is no single cause of violence, and no serious person should pretend otherwise. Crime trends are shaped by a mix of factors — economic conditions, family stability, education, drug markets, and access to illegal firearms, among others. Policing is just one part of that equation. But it is a critical part, and it’s often the one most directly influenced by public policy.
In recent years, many jurisdictions have implemented changes in the name of reform — adjustments to bail practices, limits on certain types of enforcement, and new constraints on when and how police can act. Some of these efforts were driven by legitimate concerns about fairness and accountability. Those concerns shouldn’t be dismissed.
At the same time, some leaders vigorously embraced calls to “defund the police,” a movement that — regardless of its intentions — had a tangible and negative impact on staffing, morale, and the overall capacity of departments to provide consistent public‑safety services. In communities already struggling with violence, fewer officers and reduced proactive policing translated into slower response times, less visibility, and diminished deterrence.
That’s where the disconnect becomes most visible. Leaders continue to use strong language — “zero tolerance,” “won’t be tolerated,” “inexcusable” — yet the systems responsible for delivering those outcomes often lack the alignment, resources, or authority to make those words real.
Accountability in this context is complicated, but it cannot be optional. Elected officials set the policies and priorities. Police leadership implements strategy within those constraints. Prosecutors decide which cases move forward. Courts determine outcomes. Each plays a role, and each must answer for results, not just intentions.
If violence rises or persists, it shouldn’t be enough to issue another statement of concern. Voters should expect clarity: What policies are working? Which ones aren’t? What changes will be made and on what timeline? And who is responsible for making sure those changes produce safer communities?
None of this requires abandoning reform or ignoring the need for trust between law enforcement and the communities they serve. In fact, lasting safety depends on both. But it does require honesty about tradeoffs and a willingness to adjust when policies fall short.
Americans don’t need more empty statements. They need a system that protects them, leaders who mean what they say, and a justice system that finally treats violent crime as the urgent, life‑altering threat it is. Until that happens, “unacceptable” will remain just another word — when what the country needs is action.
Louis F. Quijas is a 36-year law enforcement veteran and a former Assistant Secretary at the U.S. Department of Homeland Security. He currently serves on the Law Enforcement Advisory Council at Citizens Behind the Badge.
