Chapter 9’s case study of a major market-driven development project in Baltimore, the Port Covington project, explores how racial segregation and economic segregation are implicitly assumed to be normal parts of zoning’s spatial ordering of American cities. Inner cities are now places where private developers in a global neoliberal economy seek to use both public and private investments to create new exclusive, elite spaces for higher wealth consumers. Port Covington, a forty-two-block multi-use redevelopment of a vacant industrial site, is one such example on a massive scale. Although Baltimore’s relatively weak inclusionary zoning ordinance forced the developers to agree to include a limited number of affordable housing units in its new development plan, there were no discussions about whether or how to remedy Baltimore’s racialized geography and its legal and policy history of segregation, exclusion, and unequal opportunity. Major land-use decisions should not only embrace mixed-income and mixed-use policy goals but also government-provided affordable housing units and robust inclusionary measures to redress the subordinating dynamics of entrenched structural racism in local zoning.

The War of 1812’s end heralded a new era for the courts, and for the nation. Political leaders emboldened by having fought Great Britain to a standstill were eager to lay the groundwork for a new American empire. But adventurous Americans had their own priorities, and privateering on behalf of South American revolutionary governments offered new opportunities for wartime profit. Like the British in the 1790s, Spanish and Portuguese officials demanded that the federal government suppress such freelancing. To preserve relations, the Madison and Monroe administrations dusted off a tool for suppressing maritime violence that previous administrations had largely eschewed – criminal prosecutions for piracy. But a patchwork statutory regime and popular support for South American rebels made convictions difficult to secure. At a deeper level, privateering cases raised thorny questions about the sovereign status of former colonies seeking autonomy. As Congress and the executive branch struggled to adapt to the rapidly shifting political context in the Americas, federal judges expressed renewed doubts about extending their authority onto the high seas. The renaissance of privateering threatened to derail the American imperial project just as it was getting started.

The Conclusion first summarizes the study’s findings. It then presents the study’s policy implications that might help inform local actors’ decisions on interventions related to police–citizen cooperation in communities with criminal groups. Additional research questions are also proposed. In particular, how the study’s findings might relate to contexts experiencing political violence such as civil war or insurgency remains an avenue for future research. The final section highlights that populations are projected to grow fastest in countries with strong criminal groups and weak state institutions for fighting those groups. This trend increases the urgency to understand vacuums of justice and how they might be filled.

This chapter tests cycles of silence theory in Baltimore to evaluate its applicability in a Global North context where the state and the police are well resourced. It provides background on how Baltimore residents become exposed to violence by drug crews and details the results from an original survey of residents in the city’s violence- affected communities. Violence heightens perceived retaliation risk, and the heightened risk perception in turn pushes residents who support cooperation to keep that support private. As result, residents share less information than they otherwise would in absence of this norm suppression. The chapter’s final section explains that the underlying cooperation support exists, because the drug crews have largely failed to gain legitimacy in eyes of residents.

This chapter lays out the study’s research design. The design aims to enhance cycles of silence theory’s generalizability at two levels. At a macro level, the goal is to increase the potential that, contingent on local factors, the theory applies to as many of the communities facing criminal group violence as possible. It does so by drawing on logic derived from human social psychological dynamics, leveraging a wide range of existing datasets including a global survey of 109,000 citizens, and studying communities both the Global North (Baltimore, Maryland) and Global South (Lagos, Nigeria). At a micro level, the design combines cross-national data with original surveys as well as interviews and first- hand observations in Baltimore and Lagos. This multimethod approach improves the likelihood that the findings from the surveys and interviews in Baltimore and Lagos accurately reflect cooperation dynamics in the cities. Finally, the chapter provides definitions for key terms related to the study’s main actors – criminal groups, police, and citizens – and the main outcome of citizen cooperation with the police.

This chapter presents the results of a survey experiment testing cooperation interventions in Baltimore. It describes existing efforts in the city to promote cooperation with the police and how police rely on information from witnesses. The survey experiment entails respondents viewing and responding to a professionally produced fictional news report of a shooting with experimental variations to test the various interventions. The results show police encouraging cooperators to call an anonymous tip line (as opposed to a non-anonymous line) as well as creating awareness of cooperation norms both increase information sharing. The police commander portrayed in the news report being the same race as the respondent does not change the amount information that they are willing to share. The chapter also discusses the mechanisms of how support for cooperation exists in Baltimore despite distrust of the police.

The Introduction previews cycles of silence theory, which seeks to explain how criminal groups constrain citizen cooperation with the police. The Introduction focuses on laying out the book’s central contributions. Theoretically, the book provides a new explanation for how criminal groups prevent cooperation with the police, highlighting the role of their violence in suppressing perceived norms favoring cooperation. The theory speaks to the political science literatures on state-building, political conflict, and criminal governance as well as literatures from other social science disciplines including criminology. Methodologically, the study bridges research divides between the Global North and Global South by testing the theory in both regions. The study also employs realistic survey experiments including a virtual reality–based survey experiment. Finally, the Introduction puts the study into perspective: While the book’s focus may be centered around the effect of violence, the violence should not be interpreted as a defining feature of communities that endure criminal groups.

This chapter examines Douglass’s time in Baltimore between 1826 and 1838. “The nineteenth century’s black capital,” Baltimore was then home to the largest concentration of free black people in any U.S. city. Eight-year-old Frederick Bailey arrived in Baltimore in March 1826, staying with the Auld family in Fell’s Point. Five years later, he joined the Strawberry Alley black Methodist church, the oldest permanent Methodist place of worship in the city. The Methodist Church, with its important traditions of literacy and abolition, had two huge black congregations in Baltimore – Sharp Street and Bethel AME – which served as foci for literacy, oratory, and reasoning against bondage. Douglass entered black religious and educational circles fully as a teenager and, with the addition of the important neighborhood networks of Fell’s Point’s black caulkers and seamen, these associations were key ideational and material supports to his escape from slavery in 1838.

William H. Williams was also intimately connected with a wildcat bank on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, the Commercial Bank of Millington. Slave traders such as Williams and Thomas N. Davis helped underwrite the state–chartered banks that proliferated after the death of the Second Bank of the United States, supplying a portion of the start–up capital required for them to go into operation. In turn, many of these very same banks kept slave traders awash in the paper money necessary for slave dealers to pay for their human commodities in the cash that sellers wanted. Williams was sued by at least three different plaintiffs who alleged that he paid for slaves with paper money from the dying Millington bank, knowing that those notes would soon be worthless.

This chapter examines how the legal climate around prostitution in Baltimore changed in the wake of the Civil War. Growing fears about vagrancy following emancipation and the triumph of a free labor economy prompted crackdowns on streetwalkers and public sex workers, who found themselves incarcerated in the city’s growing network of carceral institutions. Meanwhile, real estate speculators’ growing disenchantment with brothels as investment properties and pressures from a growing urban middle class that expected the state to act as an active guarantor of their property rights brought challenges to the decades-old regime of toleration around indoor prostitution. Brothels, once regarded as a comparatively benign sexual labor arrangement because they kept illicit sexuality contained and out of sight, came to be firmly defined as threats to private property rights and to the future of the middle class. Authorities began to utilize the precedent set by an 1857 equity decision, Hamilton v. Whitridge, as they moved to crack down on sex workers and evict them from “respectable” neighborhoods. As they did so, they began to create informal red-light districts.

This chapter examines the growth of Baltimore’s casual sex trade in the early republic. At the turn of the nineteenth century, the sex trade in Baltimore emerged as part of the broader, mobile world of coastal and Atlantic commerce and labor and functioned as a survival strategy for women whose existences were governed by seasonal labor patterns and the uncertain rhythms of trade. Sex work was a loosely organized and casual affair that was part of poor women’s economy of makeshifts, and it was neither highly profitable nor spatially separated from the everyday world and social fabric of community life in maritime neighborhoods. Men and women, black and white, enslaved and free, sold and purchased sex in taverns, sailors’ boardinghouses, and local groggeries. They did so at significant legal risk and for little in the way of profit, for prostitution in the early city was little more than a subsistence trade.

This chapter examines the decline of the brothel as a commercial form in the latter decades of the nineteenth century and the recasualization of sex work in the context of women’s changing labor arrangements and the growth of urban leisure culture. Baltimore’s brothels, in keeping with patterns in other US cities, lost their prominence as a sexual labor arrangement as the result of changing land use patterns, new styles of courting, and evolving work and housing arrangements for young laborers. With the rise of new types of urban leisure, young women who sold or traded sex increasingly resorted to concert saloons, dance halls, and amusement parks to solicit men and to furnished room houses to carry out their trysts. Once-taboo forms of sexual exchange became incorporated into the courting and leisure culture of young working people. Brothels, which in many ways reflected an outmoded, domestic model of courtship, had to embrace niche sexual markets in a struggle to compete for labor and customers.

This chapter traces the expansion of Baltimore’s sex trade and the rise of brothel prostitution over the course of the antebellum period. Although prostitution is often called “the world’s oldest profession,” it resembled a “profession” in urban America only after the 1820s, when rapid changes to the structures of labor and increased mobility created both a supply and a demand for sexual labor beyond the structures of maritime neighborhoods. The sex trade’s geographies shifted toward new centers of business and trade, and labor patterns in the trade changed. In keeping with a broader trend of business specialization and capitalist labor practices, Baltimore’s sex trade came increasingly to revolve around brothels where madams dictated aspects of sex workers’ behavior, extracted surplus value from their labor, and commercialized both sex and intimacy to a much greater degree than before. Women involved in the sex trade adapted their ventures to cater to dominant cultural preferences, from the domestication of courting to the embrace of racially exclusionary labor practices.

This chapter traces the expansion of Baltimore’s sex trade during the Civil War and the reactions of civilian and military authorities to its growth. Baltimore was an occupied city and staging ground for Union troops for much of the war, and the presence of thousands of soldiers in and around the city swelled the demand for commercial sex. As the economic hardships that accompanied war drove more women into sex work, Baltimore’s prostitution trade expanded far beyond its antebellum scale. Prostitution drew the attention of military and civil authorities, who were fearful of the potential the brothels had to undermine military discipline, civilian relations, and the health of soldiers. Baltimore’s brothel keepers managed to keep Union officials at bay by cooperating with their efforts to round up errant troops and providing valuable intelligence gathered from their clients, and many managed to make small fortunes by catering to soldiers. However, the attention the war brought to the violence, disorderliness, and disease-spreading potential of the sex trade would have profound long-term consequences for Baltimore’s sex workers and their enterprises.

In 1846, Baltimore entrepreneur Johns Hopkins opened a “splendid” set of commercial buildings on the corner of Lombard and Gay Streets, just north of the Patapsco River. Hopkins, who made his fortune first as a country merchant and then as an investor in the railroad, intended the buildings to facilitate the trade that was central to both Baltimore’s economy and his personal wealth. The buildings were practical, but they were also a symbol of the city’s commercial pretensions. In addition to offices and commodious warehouses where merchants and dry goods dealers could keep the variety of products they imported from the countryside and exported through the port of Baltimore, Hopkins funded the construction of a beautifully designed corner hall. The three-story structure, described as one of the “handsomest buildings in the city,” was adorned with numerous ornaments, including a trident of Neptune and a Roman spade that symbolized Baltimore’s links to maritime commerce and agriculture.

This chapter traces efforts by Baltimore and its courts to grapple with the expanding prostitution trade in the decades before the Civil War. Initially, local officials and courts attempted to take a suppressive approach to prostitution, in keeping with long-standing common-law precedents that enabled the state to police urban disorder. However, efforts at suppression proved prohibitively taxing on city resources, which prompted the adoption of a bifurcated approach to commercial sex in which the local officials and magistrates continued to punish public prostitution while largely tolerating indoor prostitution. By the 1840s, Baltimore had developed a regulatory approach to the sex trade that was intended to ensure that it remained as contained and orderly as possible. This system continued to function for nearly two decades before a groundbreaking 1857 legal intervention allowed city residents to seek equitable remedies for the presence of brothels in their neighborhoods. The precedent set in Hamilton v. Whitridge would set the stage for the containment of brothels within red-light districts, although it would take the Civil War to usher in that new phase of spatial regulation.

This chapter traces how the rise of brothel prostitution embedded commercial sex into the world of urban real estate and urban commercial networks. As a portion of the sex trade moved out of the streets and taverns and into houses, the sex trade became a source of profit for urban real estate investors and speculators. Meanwhile, the conspicuous consumption required to sustain a high-end brothel and the costs associated with maintaining one ensured that money generated by sex work circulated throughout the city and extended its reach far beyond those directly involved in prostitution. Taking up calls by historians to examine the ways that women’s labor contributed to the capitalist economy, this chapter explores the networks of real estate investors, entrepreneurs, laborers, medicine dealers, and proprietors of entertainment establishments who profited from women’s entrepreneurship and sexual labor. Although women were increasingly defined in nineteenth-century America as nonproducing dependents, their labor as sex workers and the commercialized fantasies they created around prostitution contributed in important ways to the urban economy.

This chapter traces the development of the anti-vice and good governance movements that eventually succeeded in securing the closure of Baltimore’s already ailing red-light districts in 1915. The most successful of Baltimore’s anti-vice movements had its origins in evangelical Christianity, but concerns over industrialization, urbanization, and women’s role in the changing economy ensured that it developed a diverse following. Women’s rights organizations, Progressive political reformers, and physician and public health advocates all focused on prostitution as a symbol of the perils of urbanization, economic inequality, and political corruption. The relationship between political reform and anti-vice reform eventually proved to be the most significant one, as reform Democratic and Republican victories in state elections ushered in a period of state support for anti-vice measures. Following the white slavery scare of the 1910s, Maryland’s governor appointed a new Police Board and a state-level anti-vice commission. The combined efforts of the Police Board and the Maryland Vice Commission would ultimately result in the closure of Baltimore’s formerly tolerated brothels.

This chapter examines black women’s increased participation in the sex trade in the aftermath of the Civil War. During the 1860s, thousands of black women, children, and men arrived in Baltimore as refugees from war and enslavement. As police increasingly pushed brothels out of “respectable” neighborhoods, black Baltimoreans who faced limited housing prospects found themselves occupying the same neighborhoods as sex establishments. As the overlap between brothel districts and black neighborhoods grew, black women entered the indoor sex trade in larger numbers and began to remake it to suit their needs and preferences. Although selling sex was an important part of personal economies of makeshifts for black sex workers, sex work fueled long-standing racial stereotypes about black women’s libidinousness and black men’s unfitness as patriarchs. Middle-class black Baltimoreans who founded the city’s Colored Law and Order League attempted to resist these stereotypes by publicizing their efforts to clean up their neighborhoods, but they failed to sway the city’s white politicians, who used the alleged “disorder” of black residential enclaves to argue for racial segregation of housing.