Tackling violent crime may require creative solutions, but the creativity Rep. Jasmine Crockett (D-Texas) offered on a recent podcast only did violence to the dictionary. “I do want people to know that, just because someone has committed a crime, it doesn’t make them a criminal,” she told Jonathan Van Ness, the long-haired host of the “Getting Better” podcast. “That is completely different. Being a criminal is more so about your mindset. Committing a crime can come for a lot of different reasons.”
This author had to watch a video of the clip to make sure those words were recorded correctly. He then had to consult a dictionary for fear that he had missed the news of some Babel-like confusion of language occurring overnight.
On that score, Merriam-Webster put his mind at ease. According to the dictionary of standard American English, a criminal is “one who has committed a crime” or, presuming the innocence of the accused, “a person who has been convicted of a crime.” Those are the only two definitions of “criminal” as a noun (although the word also acts as an adjective).
So, it isn’t true at all that committing a crime “is completely different” from being a criminal. In fact, the act literally defines the identity. To deny this connection is to erase the only definitions for “criminal” in the dictionary, rendering the word devoid of meaning.
But our analysis need not remain so woodenly literal. Perhaps, given how obvious it is that these statements are technically false, Crockett was using hyperbole to make a point. In that case, we must inquire what point she was trying to make. Crockett appealed to her time as a public defender to argue that she understood the reasons why people commit crimes. “Being a criminal is more so about your mindset,” she continued. “Committing a crime can come for a lot of different reasons.”
These comments shed as much light as a lightning bug in a cavern. Crockett appeared to be drawing a distinction between different motivations for crime and reserving the more stigmatizing word “criminal” for a certain type of mindset.
But this interpretation simply raises another crucial question: What is the mindset of a criminal? As far as this author knows, Van Ness did not ask, and Crockett did not answer. After Crockett summarily erased the dictionary’s definitions for criminal, any attempt to guess her meaning would be just that — a guess.
Here’s at least one possibility that might make sense. Perhaps Crockett was trying to distinguish between gang members, or those committed to a life of crime, from those with only a couple of offenses to their name. Perhaps her point was that members of the first category should be treated more strictly than members of the second. This is the reasoning behind a “three strikes” law, for example. But such laws are not popular among progressives, who argue that they disproportionately impact minorities (which is a way of admitting that a higher proportion of minorities become hardened criminals).
Van Ness reportedly took Crockett’s comments in a much different direction, identifying a poor single mother stealing diapers as an excusable crime, versus white-collar crimes like tax evasion and corruption, which he said evidenced a criminal mindset.
Whatever Crockett meant, her argument has the same basic flaw: it’s more difficult to judge a person based on their mindset than their actions. Witnesses and security cameras can verify in a courtroom that the accused really did hold up the liquor store, but they cannot begin to assess why he did so. In other words, Crockett would have us exchange a verifiable definition of “criminal” for an unverifiable one.
This fruitless redefinition is not without its reason, however. The nugget of truth in Crockett’s argument is that not all circumstances and motivations for crime are equal. However, there are better and worse ways to apply this realization. Already, American sentencing guidelines allow judges to consider factors that mitigate or exacerbate a crime, leading to a lesser or greater sentence.
This is radically different from ideologically-driven, class-based excuses, which would overlook the crimes of poor or disadvantaged criminals as those of a modern Jean Valjean (the hero of “Les Miserables” who was sentenced to years of hard labor for stealing a loaf of bread to feed is family). It is unjust to treat such criminals as victims of their circumstances, as if individual choice did not play a role. It is unjust to the victims of these crimes, most of whom are likely poor themselves.
There is little room left in modern America for the “Jean Valjean” excuse. In historical (and global) terms, contemporary America is both fabulously wealthy and astonishingly generous. Most people do not have to worry about their next meal. For the poorest Americans, there are countless charitable organizations devoted to feeding, clothing, and housing those in need — not to mention government-sponsored benefits. To Van Ness’s example, there are even numerous organizations that will provide poor mothers with free diapers — although progressives seem to have an irrational hatred toward these pro-life pregnancy resource centers.
Crockett’s attempt to redefine “criminal” commits another error in that it lowers the perceived standard for human behavior, when she should raise it. Even if most people manage to get through the day without breaking any laws imposed by the civil magistrate, the reality is that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23), and all will have to give an account in the final judgment for breaking God’s divine law.
It is possible to conceive of a society so obsessed with rule-following that it becomes draconian. But the solution is to recognize the many ways in which we all fail, and to show mercy, “For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses” (Matthew 6:14-15). This does not mean that we tolerate lawlessness. Justice demands that those who commit crimes must receive the due penalty. It does mean that we hold out forgiveness, redemption, and hope. Even people who were once criminals can be washed, sanctified, and justified in Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 6:11).
This vision offers a far better prospect for making our communities safer than simply excusing the crimes of certain criminals.
Joshua Arnold is a senior writer at The Washington Stand.


