Write a new simple attractive title based on the title from Fajardo: Are We Building Safer Communities or a More Heavily Monitored One? and dont use quote marks

By Victoria Fajardo

With the growing deployment of Automatic License Plate Readers (ALPRs) across the Rio Grande Valley, this is a question we should all be asking.

We all want safer neighborhoods, safer schools, and a Valley where families can thrive. Public safety is not a partisan issue, nor should it be. Supporting public safety does not mean giving authorities a blank check. It remains important to examine the methods used, their impact on privacy and civil liberties, and whether public resources could be better invested in community-based solutions.

The Rio Grande Valley is no stranger to being portrayed as a crime-ridden and unsafe, but residents know a different reality. For years, national headlines and political rhetoric have painted border communities as dangerous. FBI crime statistics released in 2024 reinforced what Valley residents have long known. Border communities are among the safest communities in the country.

The Rio Grande Valley is shaped by a unique border culture, a rich natural ecosystem, and the resilience and work ethic of its people. Despite this, local governments and law enforcement agencies continue expanding surveillance technologies, often reinforcing the very narrative that our region is under constant threat.

The systems of some safety companies do more than capture license plate numbers. They record a vehicle’s make, model, color, distinguishing features, bumper stickers, roof racks, and even visible damage. This information is uploaded to a searchable database accessible to participating law enforcement agencies, private companies, and even private citizens across the country.

To understand how they work, consider an ordinary day. 

You leave home in the morning to go to work, drop your children off at school, pick up groceries, or attend a religious service. Along the way, one of these cameras captures your vehicle, photographing it, and recording your license plate, the make, model, and color of your car, any identifying characteristics, the location, and the exact time.

Every trip becomes a data point. Every routine becomes logged, stored, and searchable for weeks. Allowing anyone with access to the data a detailed record of who you visited, where you have been, and how you live your life, all without the inconvenience of a warrant or suspicion of criminal activity.

Surveillance companies can do this because cities and counties have been sold the idea that more surveillance equals more safety.

Supporters contend that these systems aid investigations and help recover stolen vehicles. While they may provide evidence after the fact, their ability to prevent crimes before they occur remains far less certain. Surveillance technologies should be judged not only by their stated purpose but also by their potential for misuse, the strength of their safeguards, if any, and whether public funds would be better invested in community-based solutions that address the root causes of harm rather than expanding surveillance.

Unfortunately, there is ample evidence that these systems can be abused.

In Texas, it was revealed that the Austin Police Department’s license plate reader program had been improperly used; about 20 percent of database searches lacked proper documentation or justification. The findings also raised concerns about data retention practices that exceeded limits established by city policy.

Reports from around the country have documented law enforcement officers using these systems for personal reasons. In one case, a Kansas police chief reportedly used a license plate reader database to track an ex-girlfriend 164 times over four months. In another case, a Florida officer allegedly searched his girlfriend’s license plate dozens of times over a seven-month period.

Beyond misuse, there is also the problem of error.

Like any technology, ALPR systems are not infallible. False alerts have resulted in wrongful stops, detentions, and arrests.

In Aurora, Colorado, Brittany Gilliam was driving with her sister, daughter, and nieces when police stopped them at gunpoint after an ALPR system incorrectly flagged her vehicle as stolen. The family was handcuffed and forced onto the pavement before officers realized the mistake. The system had matched her SUV with a stolen motorcycle from another state. The incident ultimately resulted in a $1.9 million settlement.

A similar incident occurred in San Francisco when police officers drew their weapons on Denise Green after an ALPR system misread a license plate number, confusing a “3” for a “7.” Green was ordered out of her vehicle, forced to kneel on the ground, and handcuffed before officers determined that the system had made an error.

These incidents raise an important question. Who bears responsibility when surveillance technology gets it wrong?

After reviewing some safety company’s agreements, several provisions stand out. 

First, cities and counties do not actually own the cameras they pay to install. The hardware remains the company’s property and is supposed to be removed when the contract expires. Yet after the City of Verona chose not to renew its contract last year, officials reportedly made multiple attempts to contact some safety companies to have the cameras removed. Despite those efforts, the cameras remained in place. Concerned they were still operating, city officials covered them with bags. Similar issues have been reported elsewhere.

Second, the company’s liability protections are extensive. The agreements largely shield companies from responsibility if equipment malfunctions or contributes to a mistaken investigation. In other words, the public assumes much of the risk while the company limits its exposure.

Perhaps most surprising is a section of the agreement that advises agencies to call 911 during emergencies rather than rely on some safety company’s services. 

This highlights a broader reality about the surveillance industry.

Some safety companies market themselves as public safety innovators, even though license plate reader technology has existed for decades. Their true value lies not merely in cameras but in the collection, aggregation, and distribution of data.

Cities, businesses, and homeowner associations pay to use these systems. The resulting data, information generated by ordinary people going about their daily lives, becomes part of a larger surveillance network accessible to paying customers and participating agencies.

In many ways, this resembles a new form of surveillance capitalism, where personal movement and behavioral data become valuable commodities.

The question before us is not whether we want safer communities. We do. The real question is whether expanding surveillance is making us safer or simply making us easier to track. Before we accept constant data collection as the price of security, we should ask whether we are solving a genuine problem or creating a new one.

The RGV deserves solutions that prioritize both safety and long-term public well-being, solutions that address the underlying needs of the community, not constant surveillance.

The choices we make today will shape not only how safe our communities are, but also how much privacy and autonomy future generations inherit. If we fail to ask hard questions now, we may eventually discover that we have not built a safer community at all, but simply a more heavily monitored one.

Editor’s Note: The above guest column was penned by civic engagement organizer Victoria Fajardo. Raised in the colonias of the Rio Grande Valley, Fajardo holds degrees in Political Science and Public Administration. Her work focuses on the policies and institutions that shape life in border communities across South Texas.