LeftOut

The Passage of the "James Byrd Jr. Hate Crimes Act"
Why Now? Why Ever?
by Daryl Moore

On May 11, 2001, Texas Governor Rick Perry signed the "James Byrd Jr. Hate Crimes Act" into law. The State of Texas has finally pronounced–after a debate that lasted for two legislative sessions–that it is not okay to hurt or kill someone because of their race, gender, religious affiliation, or sexual preference. And, if you do commit a hate crime, you face stiffer criminal penalties.

On its face, this "no-place-for-hate" concept seems unobjectionable. So, it’s ironic that the act drew fire from both ends of the political spectrum. Conservatives argue that the act creates "special rights and protections" for crime victims who are gay, placing more value on gay lives than straight ones. Liberals, on the other hand, argue that the act permits the state to become the "thought police"–punishing some individuals more than others simply for what they believe.

Neither of these concepts are new, however. For decades, legislatures have enacted laws that punish some crimes more than others because of who or what the victim is. For example, if you kill a cop, you have committed a capital offense that can lead to the imposition of the death penalty simply because of the profession of the individual you killed. If you conspire to kill a federal judge, you have committed a federal offense that can lead to one of the stiffest criminal penalties available for any federal crime.

At first blush, it might appear that by enacting stiffer penalties for cop-killers and those who threaten the judiciary, the government is placing more value on the lives of cops and judges than on average citizens. But that impression is wrong. The purpose of imposing stiffer penalties on those who threaten our police and the judiciary is to send a message that as a society, we will not tolerate threats against those who protect us and ensure justice. The "special protection" that such laws afford cops and judges is incidental. It is the message that counts.

Likewise, federal and state governments have a history of enacting legislation that attempts to deter individuals from committing acts that are based upon bias or prejudice. For example, Title VII prohibits employers from firing individuals because of their race or gender. The Fair Housing Act prevents landlords from refusing to rent apartments to individuals with disabilities. Both of these acts are "thought based" to the extent that they prohibit individuals’ discriminatory thoughts from becoming discriminatory deeds. But again, the incidental intrusion on an individual’s thoughts is outweighed by society’s proclamation that discriminatory acts in the workplace and housing are unacceptable. It is the message that counts.

So now comes the Hate Crimes Act. What is its effect? Will it stop hate crimes? Absolutely not. Will it deter one hate-filled individual from dragging a black man down an East Texas road, or from strapping a pistol-whipped gay man to a Wyoming fence post and leaving him to die? Perhaps not.

But it will send a message. It will say that after 10 years of debate, a majority of those who have been elected to represent Texas have finally agreed that when it comes to acts of violence, Texas is no place for hate. And it is the message that counts.