On February 23rd at approximately 11:30 am, two armed suspects exited a blue Honda Accord in front of William Eckhardt Research Center with firearms to rob an individual affiliated with the University of Chicago before fleeing. Thankfully, no physical injuries were reported. Just two minutes earlier, at 11:28 a.m., I had stepped off a bus at that same location. This was not an incident that occurred late at night or on the edge of the city. It happened on a bustling weekday morning at the center of campus—a minute’s walk away from classrooms, residence halls, and campus buildings. One hour after this brazen crime, at 12:35 p.m., the university’s Department of Safety and Security sent a security alert to all students and faculty informing them of the incident, shown below:
These security alerts rapidly provided by the university are in line with the Clery Act, which mandates that campus security authorities in federally funded universities must provide timely alerts of certain crimes reported within properties directly or indirectly associated with universities. Examples of qualifying crimes are aggravated assault, burglary, motor vehicle theft, murder, and more. As described by the university itself, “Timely security alerts will normally include the date, time, and a description of the incident, as well as other information that may aid in the prevention of similar crimes.” Furthermore, per university guidelines, “An alert may not be sent if there are factors that reduce the level of threat to the community, such as an arrest.”
In principle, these security alerts serve a well-defined function: to logistically communicate immediate threats to the university community. The problem, however, is that these security alerts are practically the only on-the-ground communication of the state of campus safety shared to students and the community. In the minutes to hours after a dangerous crime is committed on campus, students will be immediately notified of when and where an alarming incident occurred, and rightfully so. But after that, the trail goes silent. Students are never informed by the university in the weeks to months following a fear-inducing incident that shatters student perceptions of their safety on campus whether responsible suspects were ultimately taken into custody, if the belongings of victims were returned, if perpetrators were ultimately charged and sentenced, or even simply who these suspects were, even after being adjudicated guilty beyond a reasonable doubt by a jury or judge. With each new incident on campus, students are once again collectively thrown into a state of doubt regarding their safety, with no alternative information being provided suggesting that justice was served for their peers.
Once a year, the university will try to rectify this fear-inducing black box of information by releasing an annual report of cumulative incident numbers, University of Chicago Police Department (UCPD) changes, and other safety response features. However, at this point, the effort is futile in redeeming trust in their ability to protect the community. Sure, the university can show in raw numbers that crime may be reducing in their jurisdiction, and that these changes correlate to their new implementation of safety measures. But what difference does it really make to students’ perceptions of their safety on campus? In the shocking incidents they have been exposed to, discussed with their peers and families, and adapted to by becoming more cautious and fearful, no answers or sense of justice were provided.
Clear solutions can bridge this divide without involving major structural changes. The Clery Act, which the university abides by in their security alert system, merely describes the bare minimum amount of information a university must provide to its community, meaning that the information they could convey to faculty and students could be greatly increased. Most of the relevant information that could be provided which would provide students with a clearer picture of safety on campus already exists: arrest and conviction records, updates by police departments on cases, and more. Thus, all that needs to be done is to create a method of easily presenting this information to students and faculty. Periodic summaries that revisit earlier incidents and note whether arrests were made and the state of investigations as reported by law enforcement would close the loop on cases that currently appear only once in shocking security alerts. Furthermore, brief monthly updates with available information in an easy-to-parse dashboard could frame different campus incidents together without interfering with ongoing investigations. When people are allowed to see what happens after an incident is reported, it becomes easier for us to form fair judgments about how safety policies are translating into real and tangible cases.
The February 23rd security alert of an on-campus armed robbery described “two armed suspects” who fled the area. After that message was sent, there has been no visible update in over a month, and there never will be. To us members of the UChicago community, that is where the story ended, a disturbing conclusion. Perhaps arrests were made; perhaps not. Current security alerts provide a bare minimum of information to students, and with no other details, a clear perspective on campus safety is impossible. Immediately notifying the community of incidents with security alerts is necessary, but further allowing the community to view how individual incidents are resolved would bridge the divide between safety as a macro-concept and as an experience, culminating in a more accurate collective understanding of the state of campus safety at UChicago.