A Pittsburgh police car sits on the proposed site of a public safety training campus on July 24, in Lincoln-Lemington-Belmar. The 168-acre plot of land used to house a Veterans Affairs hospital. (Photo by Stephanie Strasburg/Pittsburgh’s Public Source)
The City of Pittsburgh has recently pushed forward plans for an ambitious public safety facility in the predominantly Black neighborhood of Lincoln-Lemington. The projected cost of this initiative? Approximately $86 million. While on the surface, it may seem like a simple extension of community development, there are undercurrents of concern regarding its implications for safety and community dynamics. In examining this situation, it’s essential to engage with themes of progressive politics and the ramifications of neocolonialism.
Progressive politics centers around social justice advocacy, aiming to tackle pressing issues such as income inequality and systemic oppression. Politicians and candidates often align themselves with these progressive ideals, striving to position themselves as champions of the left. In Pittsburgh, the mayor and a majority of the City Council proudly endorse progressive platforms. However, the reality on the ground raises questions about their commitment to true community engagement.
A glaring omission in the development process is the lack of public meetings concerning the facility. Despite over 30 community voices expressing opposition to the project over the course of three months, the council voted to proceed without any significant local discourse. Their assurance of holding discussions post-master plan completion feels disingenuous, especially when the community’s input is a vital part of shaping sustainable solutions. Partnering with a firm known for surveillance tactics only exacerbates these concerns, hinting that this isn’t reflective of progressive governance.
The historical context of progressives often avoids confronting police violence also adds to the complexity. The reluctance to use terms like “defund,” especially after electoral setbacks, has led to a shift in language. This has thrust the debate onto the shoulders of grassroots organizers, who have been marginalized in conversations about community safety. The shift to the more palatable term “reimagine” has resulted in ineffective solutions that lack the depth and engagement necessary for real change, leading to the establishment of police advisory boards that do little to truly address community concerns.
Touching on neocolonialism, we can see how these dynamics play out. Neocolonialism generally refers to forms of indirect control where dominant powers impose their will through seemingly benevolent means. This is particularly relevant in Pittsburgh, where local policies have favored privatization and reduced public investment in critical areas like housing, education, and violence prevention. The detrimental effects of these decisions are increasingly visible: schools in Black neighborhoods are closing, funding for violence prevention is dwindling, and gentrification continues to reshape the city.
Moreover, the militarization of the police force, compounded by influence from international military practices, illustrates the deeper layers of control at play. The recent Pennsylvania Energy & Innovation Summit, held at Carnegie Mellon, emphasized forthcoming investments amounting to $90 billion in energy and AI sectors. Still, this influx comes with serious implications as it positions Pittsburgh as a training ground for police tactics borrowed from militarized forces abroad. Such tactics, including the infamous use of knees on necks and rubber bullets, have resulted in significant harm, and sometimes loss of life, for peaceful protestors.
To further complicate matters, recent statements from the administration indicate plans for using these training grounds in Black communities for military endeavors. This is a stark reminder that the ramifications of such decisions reach far beyond immediate concerns, manifesting a form of soft power that subtly yet effectively encroaches on community autonomy. This is neocolonialism in action—disguised as security and progress, yet ultimately enforcing a cycle of control and subjugation.
Pittsburgh’s decision to invest heavily in a police training facility raises critical questions: Why not redirect these funds toward housing, education, or community revitalization? The focus should be on initiatives that lift the voices of those most impacted—strengthening community ties rather than fostering an environment of surveillance and militarization. In redefining what safety and community mean, the city can harness its true potential by prioritizing grassroots support and collective well-being.
