John Campbell’s report on the Drug-Free Zones has a lot to say about racial disparity in the enforcement of the policy, and I highly recommend you read the full thing at the link in this post, here, but buried at the end of the report are seven paragraphs that blast the police bureau and highlight Portland’s ongoing race problems.

What we find more troubling than the disparity itself is an evident lack of institutional curiosity at the Bureau for determining, early and aggressively, if such a disparity existed. Because, in the absence of more institutional curiosity about these issues, problems of racial disparity will remain very difficult to solve. While the disparity certainly exists, there are layers of dimensions to it that could give a curious manager ample room to test theories, experiment with policy, ask for feedback, and make other adjustments that could both reduce, or eliminate, the racial differences found in the data and provide important management learning about how to get closer to the root of this critically important issue.

Frankly, had this degree of disparity been uncovered early by the Bureau and shared with the public in the context of genuine commitments by managers to dig into the underlying causes, make corrections, and report back on evolving changes to a concerned public, the conversation on this issue would be very different today. That, however, is not the reality of this situation, which is why we are identifying the lack of institutional curiosity about this issue as a very significant problem in and of itself.

In fewer words, Campbell is aghast that the bureau—not necessarily as individuals, but collectively as an institution—didn’t really seem to care about whether or not the DFZ enforcement was targeting African Americans. Instead, they floated a number of theories about why the numbers looked like they do (as in, “more African Americans sell crack on the streets, which is why they are excluded more,” which we’ve written about). But, according to Campbell, none of those theories panned out and, in fact, there’s little proof that anyone at the bureau bothered to verify their own claims.

The result: Continued mistrust between the police bureau and the community, particularly the African American community—and that won’t disappear just because the DFZ law is gone.

I ran into Promise King—former Tribune columnist, city hall staffer, and current community activist—while I was at city hall a bit ago. After I told him the news about the DFZ law and showed him the press release, he said, “This might be breaking news to some people, but to me, this is old news.”

The African American community didn’t need Campbell’s report to know that they are disproportionately targeted; they live it. But, finally, the mayor has been handed undeniable proof, and he did the only thing a reasonable leader could do—he killed at least one of the most obvious policies targeting minorities.

Potter is now in a position to create a mayoral legacy of criminal justice reform, producing lasting policies that not only address root causes of crime, but also deal with suspected criminals—and community leaders—with the civil rights protections we’re all guaranteed by the Constitution. Whether he can do that in the short 14 months he’s got left is unclear, as is the question of why he didn’t get started sooner.

Read the rest of Campbell’s take on the “lack of institutional curiosity” after the jump.

We won’t review the process it took to get to the point that analysis could be done and we don’t see any convenient individual villains who could be blamed for roadblocks and barriers along the way. Instead, we see an institutionalized culture that may have left even well-intentioned managers without sufficient sense of urgency about asking the tough questions that needed to be asked or provided them with a compelling need to request a record keeping approach for Drug Free Zone data that could routinely provide information that management would need to inform better decision making.

The conversation about race in Portland will not move forward if both “sides” treat data as a mere tool to support their already foregone conclusions. While it would be a great day if the voices on both sides could change in this respect, it is certainly time for at least one side — the side that is paid to give full-time attention to policing issues — to adopt an open curiosity about measuring and responding to the facts as they are, to demonstrate a greater willingness to discover and correct, and to explain openly and honestly whatever shades of gray the facts reveal.

The Portland Police Bureau, institutionally, has seemed incurious about testing the hypotheses developed to explain apparent disparities and, in the absence of a willingness to do the necessary self-analysis, insufficiently committed to taking the self-corrective steps necessary to mitigate the racial issues that, as is the case in most American cities, remain a barrier to better partnership with all citizens.

The work necessary to properly test the hypotheses developed, analyze the data, and put it in the context of police work, is not simple and does require a level of skill that is unique to those who are very familiar with statistical analysis, probabilities, and correlations (and also have a working knowledge of police work). But the Bureau employs analysts with these skills who could be turned loose to go where the facts take them, testing each hypothesis and working with managers to develop responses that are commensurate with the issues found.

We urge the Portland Police Bureau to make a much deeper commitment to assessing its own need for improvement in this regard and then addressing the need in a way that will offer relief for concerns about police practices and allow the conversation with the community to move more easily to questions of improving public safety. A better community policing partnership, built on trust and a shared commitment to problem solving, particularly with Portland’s African-American community, will never be achieved without it.