If the reports are accurate, New Yorkers should be asking a very simple question: what message is Mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani trying to send by surrounding himself with a slate of anti-police activists and, allegedly, appointing a convicted armed robber who served seven years as a criminal-justice advisor? Calling this “bold” or “courageous” ignores the obvious reality that optics and judgment matter in public office — and that some choices simply beg for scrutiny rather than applause.
Elected officials are entitled to their beliefs about reform. They are also accountable for who they empower to shape policy that affects everyone’s safety. There are two reasonable, competing considerations here: the value of lived experience in shaping criminal-justice reform, and the need for credibility and public confidence in those who influence public-safety policy. The question is whether those considerations have been balanced — and right now it looks like balance has been thrown out the window.
Start with the simplest point: appointing an advisor with a violent criminal record to advise on criminal-justice policy is bound to generate skepticism. Whether one believes in second chances or not, there is a difference between hiring formerly incarcerated people with expertise in reentry or community support, and putting someone who committed armed robbery — a violent offense that directly threatened citizens’ safety — in a role advising on policing and public safety. For many New Yorkers, especially victims of crime and their families, this is not abstract. It is personal, painful, and disorienting. Public officials who ignore that reality risk alienating the very communities they claim to serve.
Then there is the optics concerning the NYPD. Whether or not one supports reforms aimed at greater accountability, recruiting a roster of activists primarily antagonistic toward police sends a clear message: the incumbent intends to stack the deck against law enforcement. That perception matters. Police are not above debate — they should be subject to scrutiny and reform like any other public institution — but demonizing the entire profession and surrounding oneself only with voices that echo that view risks turning policy-making into an exercise in grievance confirmation rather than problem-solving. The result is predictable: fewer officers willing to engage with reform-minded leaders, increased mistrust, and a harder environment for implementing pragmatic changes that actually reduce crime and improve community relations.
There is also a governance question. Advisors are not ceremonial; their recommendations inform budgets, legislation, and enforcement priorities. An advisor with a demonstrated hostility to law enforcement — or worse, someone whose past involved serious violent harm — may have blind spots that produce unworkable or harmful policy prescriptions. Criminal-justice reform requires expertise in law, public safety, rehabilitation, and community needs. If the advisory team lacks a diversity of perspectives — including practitioners, victims’ advocates, former law-enforcement officials, and community leaders — the policies that emerge will be incomplete at best and reckless at worst.
Supporters will rightly point to the importance of lived experience. People who have been through the criminal-justice system can offer invaluable insight into the harms of mass incarceration, the barriers to reentry, and the human failures of a system designed without empathy. Redemption is real, and many formerly incarcerated individuals make powerful, constructive contributions to society. But redemption does not automatically qualify someone to shape public policy on the very harms they once inflicted, especially when the harm involved violent criminality. A good government expects a higher bar for those advising on public safety: demonstrated expertise, transparency about past conduct, and a clear articulation of how their experience will translate into constructive, evidence-based policy.
There is also politics at play. Appointing polarizing figures can be a deliberate strategy: energize a base, attract media attention, and stake out a radical position. But officials who tilt too far into symbolic gestures risk governing from the fringes. New Yorkers did not elect policy theater; they voted for representatives who can solve problems — reduce crime, make neighborhoods safer, and improve fairness in the justice system. Alienating law enforcement and moderates while courting activist applause is a poor trade-off when real-world outcomes hang in the balance.
What should be done instead? If the goal genuinely is meaningful reform, the advisory team should reflect a range of expertise and experience: criminal-justice scholars, community-based service providers, people with lived experience who have relevant programmatic expertise, victim advocates, and reform-minded law-enforcement leaders. Transparency about vetting criteria and the roles advisors will play is essential. And most important, officials should be ready to explain, plainly and persuasively, why any particular appointment advances public safety and fairness — not merely ideology.
Ultimately, public servants must remember that their appointments are not only about signaling to allies. They are a promise to every constituent that decisions will be made with competence, prudence, and respect for diverse perspectives. If the reports about these appointments are true, they raise more questions than they answer — about judgment, priorities, and who gets a seat at the table when decisions about safety and justice are on the line. That is not a fringe concern; it is common-sense accountability. New Yorkers deserve better than provocation dressed up as reform.
