In attempting to assess a link between homelessness and crime in our community, Jamie Spinelli offers some insight.
Spinelli is the city of Vancouver’s homeless response coordinator. And in an article by Columbian reporter Kelsey Turner, she notes that a tacit code of conduct within the homeless community has deteriorated in the past five years. Two contributing factors: The COVID-19 pandemic and an increase in fentanyl use.
“There’s so much more fentanyl out there today than there was three years ago, and the whole vibe of camps has changed along with that,” Spinelli said. “There’s a much greater sense of desperation, there’s more anger, there’s more fear, there’s more overdose.”
In that regard, homeless encampments are no different from the rest of society. Teachers can quickly point to how the pandemic has altered behavioral norms among students, and fentanyl is touching all demographics. But when encountering homeless people, particularly those showing signs of mental issues or substance abuse, many people assume that there is an increased risk of violent crime.
Therein lies an issue that highlights the importance of reducing homelessness — perception is reality. If residents, business operators or pedestrians are made to feel unsafe by homeless people or somebody openly using drugs, that diminishes Clark County’s quality of life. In the short term, it leads to discomfort for those who live here; in the long run, it makes our area less attractive for visitors, would-be residents and companies looking to relocate.
In the process, the situation creates a conundrum for law enforcement. Shouting or uncivil behavior can appear threatening, but in most cases those actions are not criminal. As Vancouver police Officer Tyler Chavers said: “There’s a big difference between being uncomfortable and being unsafe.”
Which brings up the crux of the article: As can best be determined from available data, homeless people are not more likely to commit violent crime than housed people. Vancouver has seen a sweeping increase in both crime and homelessness, but less than 2 percent of emergency calls in 2022 included the words “homeless,” “transient,” “houseless” or “unhoused” in the incident report.
Last year, using data from Seattle, professor Charles Lanfear at the University of Oxford studied a possible link between property crime and the growth of homeless camps. “On average, an increase in the number of tents and structures in an area is not associated with any increases in property crime — very close to zero,” Lanfear found.
But, he added, “There is such a strong association between encampments and crime, that it’s leading people to assume that any change in property crime is attributable to the tents and structures in their neighborhood.”
Whether or not homeless camps lead to an increase in crime, their impact is unmistakable. The Columbian reported on a longtime Vancouver business that relocated to another part of town because of unchecked nearby homelessness. “When there are needles on the ground, foil on the ground, it affected our business,” one executive said.
Indeed, having customers navigate people sleeping on the sidewalk or drug paraphernalia or human feces is not an effective way to attract repeat business. And it is easy to empathize with businesses that suddenly find themselves on the front lines of a community crisis.
For both businesses and residents, the perception of a link between homelessness and crime is a powerful reality that diminishes our community.
