On Sunday, two New York City police officers fired into a crowded Brooklyn subway station, shooting and injuring four people, including two bystanders, one of whom is a hospital employee now in critical condition after police shot him in the head during his commute. 

The catalyst for this bloody confrontation: an alleged fare evasion. In other words, $2.90.

According to the NYPD, officers suspected that 37-year-old Derell Mickles had skipped a turnstile at the Sutter Avenue subway station in Brooklyn. The officers followed Mickles, resulting in a chase that ended with officers shooting him, two bystanders, and another officer on duty. While police initially claimed that they had recovered a knife Mickles had used to threaten officers, officials later contradicted their own claim, prompting questions over what exactly had happened.

Asked about body camera footage on Tuesday, Mayor Eric Adams deflected, telling a reporter to “speak with the police commissioner,” before praising the officers involved in Sunday’s shooting for demonstrating a “great level of restraint.” The NYPD has since firmly defended the officers, with the police departments chief of patrol stating, “We are not perfect.”

The violent incident, inside one of the world’s busiest subway systems, has sparked outrage among New Yorkers as well as a victim’s family members, who condemned the officers’ actions as “reckless.”

And they’re far from alone. Criminal justice reform advocates are slamming what they see as an outsized response by the NYPD to something as minor and trivial as alleged fare evasion. It comes amid New York Mayor Eric Adams’ aggressive crackdown on fare evaders, a policy Adams has claimed would also help with violence that occurs on trains. Protests have since broken out across the city, calling for the officers involved in Sunday’s shooting to be held accountable.

I spoke with Michael Sisitzky, assistant policy director at the New York City Civil Liberties Union, to learn more about Adams’ crackdown on fare evasion, overpolicing, and lack of police transparency surrounding Sunday’s violent encounter. Our conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

This is an ongoing investigation. But there are already significant concerns over how the police handled this situation and how the mayor has responded.

This disturbing incident is sadly not surprising, given what we’ve seen from this administration. The Adams administration and NYPD have been dramatically ramping up enforcement activity, increasing their presence in the subways, increasing stops, increasing frisks, and increasing all of the hallmarks of broken windows policing.  This is a predictable and inevitable consequence of this administration’s approach to a very aggressive enforcement mindset. There are so many questions about what we’ve heard from the mayor’s office from the NYPD about what exactly unfolded. 

We have heard officer accounts of what happened. We’ve heard some witness accounts. The NYPD and the mayor’s office have been reviewing body camera footage. But, we have not been able to see this. We’re not getting a transparent accounting of what took place. It’s absolutely critical that we see the evidence that they’re relying on to make these assertions. 

We’re being asked to take the word of a mayor whose initial tweet in response to this incident had to get community noted because it was leaving out the important context of the officer he was talking about having been shot was shot by a fellow officer. We can’t really trust their version of events when they’re not showing us the evidence of what took place in that incident.

This is a predictable and inevitable consequence of this administration’s approach to a very aggressive enforcement mindset.

Are complaints over transparency from the NYPD common?

It’s a hallmark of the NYPD. We know that they can be transparent when they choose to be and when they think it serves their interest. Folks may remember back in January of 2024 the NYPD released body camera footage within hours, within a day of the traffic stop of a city council member when they sought to use that footage to highlight their version of what took place. But they treat incidents like this very differently.

How common—or rare—are shootings like this in New York?

I don’t know that we have the full stats on how common this type of shooting is in the subway from an officer.  It’s not something that I’ve seen a full accounting of, but what we have seen are increased reports of police misconduct and abuse of New Yorkers that have upticked with this administration. Civilian complaints going into the Civilian Complaint Review Board have reached alarmingly high levels. At the same time, there have also been real concerns about what the department is actually doing with complaints that are moving through the NYPD disciplinary system, where they’re just not taking those reports seriously. 

When you respond to everything with an officer, you are increasing the likelihood that we’re going to see more cases where someone is subject to use of force.

Can overpolicing backfire? How do outsize police presences affect communities, particularly communities of color?

The approach that this administration has taken since day one is overpolicing. 

They’ve identified police officers as the be-all, end-all, sole solution to every societal ill. Fare evasion? Send a cop after it. Homelessness? Send police to conduct sweeps. Mental health crises? Instead of sending peers and EMTs, send a cop instead.

It’s a formula that this administration seems wedded to, but it’s not improving community safety for New Yorkers. Police are primarily concerned with enforcing criminal laws, making arrests, and issuing summonses. They have an enforcement mindset, not a delivery of services or addressing root causes mindset.

So when you respond to everything with an officer, you are increasing the likelihood that we’re going to see more and more cases where someone is subject to use of force, someone is tased, someone is shot, someone is killed when they did not need to be, because you are responding to a situation with tools that are just fundamentally not a good fit for that scenario.

We see this play out largely in communities that need more investments to address the root causes of crime, poverty, homelessness, the need for increased mental health and healthcare services. Rather than making those investments, which are harder and will take more thought to accomplish, we instead default to a reliance on police officers.

In March, the NYPD announced they would send 800 officers into subways to combat fare evasion. In the same month, Gov. Kathy Hochul deployed the National Guard in response to several violent incidents that occurred a few weeks prior. Realistically, how effective are methods like this in preventing crime, and what are some of the pitfalls?

It’s brought up time and time again that if you focus on low-level crime and low-level signs of disorder, you’re mitigating the potential for it to escalate into more serious criminal activity and driving down overall crime rates as a result. 

That’s been studied and debunked numerous times. New York City hit historically low crime rates as stop and frisk plummeted to historic lows and was reined in as enforcement fell, as summonses and arrest activity went down. The data is just not there to justify the approach to broken windows or quality-of-life policing.

Instead, it’s very effective at funneling more and more people into the criminal legal system, saddling people with fines that they cannot afford, making them attend court dates that they cannot afford, and giving people the potentially lifelong consequence of acquiring a criminal record which can extend to every aspect of their life. What it’s not doing is meeting community needs and making New Yorkers safer.

Eric Adams has pushed for a crackdown on fare evasion. Last month, the MTA announced that they’ll be sending summons of up to $50 to $100 to fare evaders. Did a “tough on crime” approach play into what happened over the weekend?

What happened over the weekend is an inevitable outcome of that kind of tough-on-crime approach, where the only tool that we seem to have to offer is police officers, who are going to focus on enforcement and if they’re given an aggressive mandate to enforce, are going to enforce that aggressively.

We haven’t seen the actual footage yet. We’re relying on accounts of what happened. But it’s very easy to see how a police officer pursuing someone, chasing them, is a tactic that is escalatory, as opposed to thinking of ways we can tackle issues like fare evasion without the threat of violence.

That is such a mismatch we don’t need to be constrained thinking about responding to fare evasion with just a police law enforcement tool.

We should be thinking more broadly about getting people access to the support they need to enroll in programs for New Yorkers who can’t afford to pay for fares to get to work, pay for child care, or get access to medical care. We can think about other ways that we are addressing those causes without putting armed officers in and telling them you need to make sure that you are aggressively cracking down on everyone within the system.

As this case has gained traction on social media, one of the most disturbing responses I’ve seen is how so many people justify using this level of force because Mickles was suspected of evading a $2.90 fare. It’s a narrative that oftentimes rears its head after a high-profile case of police brutality. We saw this with George Floyd, Eric Garner. 

The level of force used here is so disproportionate to the alleged infraction. No one should be subject to having their life put in jeopardy because of an alleged evasion of a $2.90 cent fare, to say nothing of the fact that officers pursued him into a crowded station and onto a train.

That response is not only out of proportion to the individual’s alleged offense, but it is putting so many other people needlessly in harm’s way.

It’s deeply disturbing that the NYPD and the administration could view that level of a response as an appropriate reaction when we’re talking about something as trivial as the evasion of a $2.90 cent fare.

Since the shooting occurred, plenty of New Yorkers have started to protest the NYPD’s crackdown on fare evasion. What are your thoughts on some of these demonstrations?

People are recognizing an uptick in the targeting of their communities and an uptick in stop activity racial disparities as bad or even worse than they were at its height. There is a real sense that the NYPD is not providing a service to New Yorkers but is causing active harm In communities.

And I think that an expression that also finds a voice in the number of complaints of police misconduct going in, being on the rise, and is evident in the types of protests that we’re seeing against this incident and against other instances of police brutality and violence.

It’s important that New Yorkers be able to express their to raise their voice and express their views in protesting against policies that are causing harm in their communities rather than actually helping deliver real safety for them.

More than four years after Kentucky police barged into Breonna Taylor’s home in the middle of the night and shot her to death, her family is still fighting for justice. And this week, a federal judge dealt them a major blow.

On Thursday, US District Judge Charles Simpson, a Ronald Reagan appointee, dismissed felony charges against two of the former Louisville officers involved in the police raid that led to Taylor’s death. Instead, the judge ruled that Taylor’s boyfriend was legally responsible for her death. The officers still face other charges.

Former Detective Joshua Jaynes and former Sgt. Kyle Meany were not present at the raid on Taylor’s home in March 2020, but they allegedly lied to obtain a warrant for other officers to enter in search of drugs. Taylor, a Black 26-year-old medical worker, had fallen asleep watching the movie Freedom Writers when, a little after midnight, seven plainclothes police barged through her door. Her boyfriend, Kenneth Walker, thinking the officers were intruders, fired a single shot, and the officers returned with a barrage of bullets that struck Taylor. As she lay wounded, Walker called 911, still not realizing it was the police who had attacked them.

In 2022 the Justice Department filed civil rights charges against four current and former officers who were involved in her death, including Jaynes and Meany. Not long afterward I was writing a profile of Taylor’s aunt, Bianca Austin, who told me that the family felt relieved about the prosecutions. “I was just so happy,” Austin said of the indictments. “I’m just grateful the DOJ decided to do their job, that somebody decided to step up and say, ‘This is not right.'”

Within a few weeks of the charges, one of the four officers, Kelly Goodlett, pleaded guilty. Goodlett said she and her colleagues lied to obtain the warrant by claiming to have evidence they didn’t have. More specifically, she said she did not stop Jaynes when he falsely claimed to have proof that a drug dealer was sending packages to Taylor’s apartment. According to prosecutors, the warrant application also stated that the dealer used Taylor’s address as his own, even though the detectives knew the dealer did not live there. No drugs were found on the premises.

The lies allegedly continued later. News of Taylor’s death sparked widespread outrage. Thousands protested. As public backlash grew, according to prosecutors, Goodlett and Jaynes met in Jaynes’ garage to scheme how they could cover up the false statements they had made. And according to prosecutors, Meany allegedly lied to the FBI.

The two cops who actually shot Taylor—Jonathan Mattingly and Myles Cosgrove—were never charged. Prosecutors said they did not know their colleagues had lied to obtain the warrant. Instead, the Justice Department blamed the four other officers for Taylor’s death. But on Thursday, Judge Simpson disagreed. “While the indictment alleges that Jaynes and Meany set off a series of events that ended in Taylor’s death, it also alleges that [Taylor’s boyfriend, Walker] disrupted those events when he decided to open fire” on the police, Simpson wrote. Walker’s “decision to open fire,” he added, “is the legal cause of her death.”

The ruling effectively reduced some of the felony charges against Jaynes and Meany, which had carried a maximum sentence of life in prison, to misdemeanors. But officers are not totally off the hook: The judge refused to dismiss a charge against Jaynes for conspiracy and a charge against Meany for lying to the FBI. Goodlett, who pleaded guilty to federal charges, is expected to testify against them at their trials. A fourth former officer, Brett Hankison, also faces a retrial for federal charges in October.

Taylor’s family said prosecutors plan to appeal this week’s ruling. “Obviously we are devastated,” the family wrote in a statement to the Associated Press. “The only thing we can do at this point is continue to be patient…we will continue to fight until we get full justice for Breonna Taylor.”

Update: On Tuesday, Attorney Ben Crump announced that the Department of Justice will be investigating the death of Sonya Massey, who was shot and killed by a former Illinois sheriff’s deputy earlier this month. 

“We don’t know what the scope is. We just know they’ve opened an investigation file on Sonya Massey,” said Crump in a press conference. “Obviously, with the family’s guidance, if the family wants them to go deeper, we’re going to advocate for them to go deeper.”

On Monday, an Illinois county sheriff’s department released body camera footage showing the fatal shooting of a Black woman who originally called 911 for help. Earlier this month, Deputy Sean Grayson shot 36-year-old Sonya Massey after she attempted to move a pot of water off of her stove at the officer’s behest.

The Sangamon County Sheriff’s Office has reportedly fired Grayson, who was later charged with first-degree murder last week. He’s pleaded not guilty.

“She needed a helping hand,” attorney Ben Crump said at a press conference on Monday. “She didn’t need a bullet to the face.” On July 6, Massey reportedly called the authorities about a potential prowler around her Springfield home. Officer Grayson and another deputy arrived on the scene.

While asking her a few questions, Grayson asked her to turn off her stove, where a pot of water was reportedly boiling. Massey gets up to turn it off and pick up the pot. The officers then step back. She asks where they’re going; Grayson replies, “Away from your hot steaming water.”

Massey then says, “I rebuke you in the name of Jesus.” Grayson responds that she “better not,” threatening to shoot her “in her fucking face.” She apologizes before three shots ring in the air.

As Massey laid bleeding in her kitchen, the other unnamed officer said he was going to get his medical kit from his car when Grayson said, “Nah, she’s done. You can go get it, but that’s a headshot.”

Following the shooting, the 30-year-old deputy referred to Massey as a “crazy fucking bitch” to other officers who arrived on the scene. Grayson’s body camera was reportedly turned off for most of the shooting.

The footage of Massey’s death, captured by the other deputy’s body camera, shocked the nation. Several local, state, and federal officials have condemned the officer’s actions. President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris both released statements calling for justice for Massey’s family on Tuesday.

“Sonya Massey deserved to be safe,” said Harris. “After she called the police for help, she was tragically killed in her own home at the hands of a responding officer sworn to protect and serve.”

In an interview with CNN, her father, James Wilburn, alleged that law enforcement had given them conflicting information about his daughter’s death, leading him to believe that a robber had killed her. Massey’s killing has devastated him.

“Sonya was a daddy’s girl. She never ended a conversation—whether by text or telephone or in person—without saying, ‘Daddy, I love you,” her father, James Wilburn, told CNN’s Laura Coates in an interview. “And that’s the last message I have from my daughter that’s saved on my voicemail, was ‘Daddy, I love you.'”

When police kill someone, a medical examiner lists their cause of death—which plays a significant role in whether a police officer will be held accountable.

Some of those determinations shield the police from potential accountability: notably, “excited delirium,” a so-called syndrome not recognized in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders or the International Classification of Diseases, with research finding that most deaths attributed to the term involve aggressive restraint.

Aisha M. Beliso-De Jesús, a professor of American studies at Princeton University, traces the history of “excited delirium” in a new book, Excited Delirium: Race, Police Violence, and the Invention of a Disease—and calls it a “very useful tool that has allowed medical examiners to participate in these cover-ups.”

Beliso-De Jesús spoke to me about the racist and xenophobic views behind the term, the devastating impact of its pseudoscience on the families of the deceased, and what has to be done to move forward.

Forensic pathologist Charles Wetli first used the concept of “excited delirium” in dismissing the deaths of Black sex workers in the 1980s; they were later found to have been murdered by a serial killer. Does the term’s origin speak to its being dehumanizing? 

Medical diagnoses are supposed to be helpful to people. But as we can see in the example of excited delirium, and specifically with the misdiagnosis of the cases that you’re referring to—the misdiagnosis of Black women who were strangled to death, murdered and raped by a serial killer—which Charles Wetli described as “cocaine sex deaths,” this horrific term was really used for him to substantiate his argument.

He used these Black women’s deaths to sort of make the argument that Black people, who he saw as a species that was separate from white people, had a specific genetic flaw [causing them] to die spontaneously.

He argued Black women died through small amounts of cocaine use and sexual activity, which he assumed or presumed to be consensual. Then he argued that Black men died spontaneously around police officers. This reveals so much dehumanization.

How did Wetli use and misconstrue Afro-Latine religions in rationalizing excited delirium? 

The relationship between Wetli’s research on Afro-Cubans and cocaine and “excited delirium syndrome” is not direct or obvious, but I think it’s much more subtle and ingrained. So this is the 1980s, during the Mariel Boatlift, when 125,000 Cubans arrived as refugees in Miami—and those Cubans that arrive are darker, poorer and less well or less resourced than the previous generations of Cubans, who were whiter and wealthier.

Wetli was in his first couple of years as the new assistant medical examiner, and at the same time, there was a mass criminalization of this community. You see it in stereotypes like the famous Tony Montana from Scarface, who is this sweaty, aggravated, sexual predator mobster who is addicted to cocaine and murder.

Charles Wetli’s research on Afro-Cubans and cocaine, particularly on the tattoos of Afro-Cubans, is a participation in this longer criminalization of Afro-Cuban religions. He has this hobby where he claims himself as an expert on Afro-Caribbean religions, or cults, as he calls them.

He’s saying that, basically, mostly Black and Latino men have this tendency to become aggressive, sweaty, and overheated—essentially just self-combusting as a result of their aggressiveness. And as a result, he argues, they die, and police witness their deaths. It becomes a pattern with the Afro-Cubans he’s studying, where he blames the religion and the Cubans as these aggressive criminals, almost a plague infection into the United States.

How has the label of “excited delirium” in the killing of Black people by police been used to underplay how lethal other forms of police violence can be, such as the use of tasers?

Excited delirium has allowed for certain deaths to go under the radar for so long. With shootings, it’s very clear what the cause of death was. But for many years, with this term, these deaths have been completely ignored.

What excited delirium does is say that the person’s own behavior— cocaine use or hyper-masculinity, aggressiveness—leads to their death. As a result, there’s a very frightening, medicalized cover-up of police violence. If it hadn’t been for footage of George Floyd’s death, many people would have taken for granted the initial argument: that he was simply a man who died under medical distress. That was what [Minneapolis police] had posted when his death first occurred. Without the bystander video, there really would have been no way for the world to have known that this was someone who was essentially murdered in plain sight.

Was there anything that stood out to you in conversations with family members of people whose deaths were labeled as excited delirium?

For a lot of the family members I spoke with, there is a sense of relief—because for many years, people were blaming the victims. A family I interviewed was told that their father just suddenly up and died during a police car chase, that it was his drug use, and his heart had just self-combusted. There were other stories that maybe the police had pushed him off the road. Questions around that completely got erased by the narrative.

These people who are labeled as dying by “excited delirium” are often seen as written off by society, similar to the way that the Black women who were murdered and raped were written off as so-called “crack whores.” That weaponization [of the term] by police justified blaming the victims, and in many [cases], created a buffer for police and medical doctors to work together to write off whole communities.

The American Medical Association came out against “excited delirium” in 2021. What do you think would need to change for its racist pseudoscience to be discarded?

I’m really glad to see that there have been many people, many organizations, many states, actively working against excited delirium right now. I think it’s [a trend] that grew out of the post-2020 uprising of people coming together and recognizing systemic police violence.

That practice has not gone away simply because people don’t use the term any longer. People are still being tased and asphyxiated. Police officers are putting their weight on people’s bodies, putting them into chokeholds; people are complaining of not being able to breathe, and then ultimately dying. Medical examiners and coroners are still using the same kinds of medical justifications, like heart failure and drug use, rather than acknowledging the role of police violence in these deaths.

We have to continue to ensure that we don’t just focus solely on this term, but on the broader structure of policing in the country and how these two institutions—medical institutions, police institutions—are tied together.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.