The suspect in the assault appears to be Black, making Gonzales’ messaging an almost exact replay of the “Willie Horton ad,” which came to define racist dog whistle politics. The campaign spot was created by Larry McCarthy, a disciple of Fox News CEO and Chairman Roger Ailes, and painted Democratic presidential nominee Michael Dukakis as ultimately responsible for a rape and home invasion Horton committed during a “weekend pass” from prison under a program authorized by the then-governor. It is virtually inconceivable that the Times’ reporters and editors failed to notice the similarities, given that the attack ad is perhaps the most famous political messaging in the last half century. Yet even this glaring historical parallel went unmentioned. (Horton maintains his innocence.)
The rest of the Times story continues in a similar vein, primarily asking whether Trump’s modest sentencing reform could be a liability that DeSantis could exploit. Again, the method through which DeSantis would exploit that “vulnerability,” in the Times’ phrasing, is through thinly veiled racist messaging — which the Times’ coverage elides.
Also left unexamined in the piece is Florida’s racist record on crime and incarceration, which is long and relatively well-documented. It’s worth adding the caveat that crime statistics are notoriously difficult to obtain in general, and even more so in Florida than other states. Only 0.3 percent of Florida law enforcement agencies reported crime data to the FBI in 2021, the lowest in the nation that year, according to Axios.
When it comes to incarceration, and the racist outcomes derived from “tough-on-crime” policies, Florida also fares poorly. The state had disproportionately locked up Black people prior to DeSantis’ election in 2018, and all available evidence suggests it continues to do so under his leadership.
“The U.S. Census Bureau states that 17% of Florida citizens are Black, while the Florida Department of Corrections reports that 47% of men and women in state prisons are Black,” the ACLU reported in June of 2020. “The numbers don’t lie: racism and discrimination are prevalent in Florida’s criminal justice system and the disparities in Florida are greater than those across the nation.”
The Vera Institute of Justice provides additional historical context for Florida’s racist incarceration regime. “Since 1978, the Black incarceration rate has increased 51 percent,” the institute wrote in a fact sheet about Florida’s prisons and jails. “In 2017, Black people were incarcerated at 3.6 times the rate of white people.”
The Prison Policy Initiative adds even more granular data. The United States has a larger prison population per capita than any other country on Earth by a wide margin, and Florida outpaces the U.S. average: 795 people per 100,000 versus 664 nationally. Using 2010 Census data, PPI concludes that Black people are overrepresented in Florida prisons and jails, while white people are underrepresented.
While acknowledging the above caveat that crime data is difficult to assess, multiple studies show that, for all of Florida's racist approach to incarceration, the state continues to have high crime rates. New York has a lower incarceration rate, for example, but the two states had relatively similar rates of violent crime as of 2019, according to a study from Stanford. That study also found that Florida's homicide rate is 44 percent higher than New York's. Compared internationally, Florida has high rates of both violent crime and incarceration — as is true of virtually every state in the United States — suggesting the country's approach to what we label as crime is ineffective in its stated goal of improving public safety but extremely effective at controlling large elements of the population through imprisonment.
What gets labeled as crime is also a political choice. It is not an accident that DeSantis' primary feud with Disney revolves around so-called culture war issues, rather than with the corporation's alleged pattern of wage theft — certainly a crime, but not one that registers under the racist implications of “tough-on-crime” rhetoric.
These data points are not difficult to find, but they are necessary context to understand the desired, inevitable impacts of “tough-on-crime” policies. Yet they are completely absent from the Times’ coverage, not only in this story but also in other recent Times coverage of DeSantis and Trump.
DeSantis and Trump are trying to outdo each other in barely coded racist messages under the rubric of “tough-on-crime” policies, just like they are trying to outdo each other in anti-trans bigotry. Times readers deserve to hear that obvious truth stated clearly.