Last summer, I took the California Zephyr sleeper train, which winds its way across America from Chicago to Oakland, offering stunning views. It was a short trip, and I planned to fly back, so I booked a one-way ticket and only had carry-on luggage. What I didn’t know at the time was that these two factors would have been reason enough for law enforcement to search my things—and pocket any cash. That’s exactly what happened to 37-year-old mathematician Aaron Heuser after an agent with the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) aggressively pressured him to consent to a search.
Like countless other Americans, Heuser was a victim of civil asset forfeiture: an astonishing practice that allows law enforcement to seize assets like cash, cars, and even property, without a conviction and often “based on no particular behavior.” Through a series of intentional legal loopholes, police make a hefty profit—and they can spend the money however they like. It’s no small change: in 2022 alone, the New York Police Department raked in over $33 million.
Last month, Mayor Eric Adams used $750,000 of those funds to buy some sinister new friends: robot police dogs. The NYPD first unleashed the “DigiDog” on unsuspecting public housing residents in 2021 before backtracking after mass outrage. If New York already said no to DigiDog, why is the NYPD still purchasing the pooch with what some call “legalized robbery”?
Most of the NYPD’s asset forfeiture proceeds come from federal agencies like the DEA, which lets agents search and seize assets with no justification as long as the person they approach agrees to be searched. New York requires a slightly higher bar—the money must be vaguely linked to a crime. But thanks to a loophole called federal equitable sharing, the NYPD can still take advantage of looser federal laws. The typical person targeted by asset forfeiture can’t afford a lawyer, so 80% of forfeitures go uncontested. Even if the legal challenge is successful, the NYPD often still keeps a chunk of the change.
Asset forfeitures started in the ’80s but were rare until Congress passed a bill allowing law enforcement to keep a share of the profits. These days, the practice has become a rampant free-for-all because law enforcement see it “as a way to provide equipment and training for their guys.” Conveniently, these funds are also subject to lighter rules than other government spending. So from Boston, Massachusetts, to Calexico, California, police now spend the money on spy tech. Over five years, law enforcement bought a whopping $121 million worth of surveillance equipment using asset forfeiture funds.
We can’t let law enforcement fund one bad practice with another. Surveillance technology, like NYPD’s DigiDog, always ends up affecting marginalized communities the most. Robot dogs are just the latest toy more likely to endanger New Yorkers than protect them. When it comes to “search and seizure,” people of color are, unsurprisingly, disproportionately targeted. Bankrolling Big Brother with their stolen cash only twists the knife.
Eighty-four percent of Americans oppose civil asset forfeiture, so why is it still happening? Later this year, civil forfeiture will head to the Supreme Court. When it comes to spending stolen cash on spy tech, “policing for profit” must be stopped once and for all.
Julie Lee is a research intern at the Surveillance Technology Oversight Project, a labor organizer, and postdoctoral researcher at New York University. She has a PhD in neuroscience from University College London.
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