For decades, Oakland, California has been one of the most dangerous cities in the United States, with homicide rates far above the national average. Like most other cities, though, the number of murders in Oakland dropped dramatically over the past two years; from 118 in 2023, to 78 in 2024, to 57 in 2025.
That figure still translates to a per capita homicide rate of about 13 per 100,000 people, which is more than triple the estimated U.S. homicide rate of 4 per 100,000. Still, it's remarkable progress for Oakland, and it's worth noting that city officials aren't crediting California's restrictive gun laws for the historic decline.
Instead, they're pointing to a program that's very similar to one that was defunded earlier this year by Virginia's Democrat-controlled legilslature: Operation Ceasefire.
In Oakland, the program is called Ceasefire-Lifeline, but it works in much the same way as the soon-to-be defunct program in Richmond. Police first identify those who are the highest risk of committing a shooting, and then non-profits and community members work intensively with those individuals to put them on a new path in life. Those who don't take advantage of the opportunity to turn their life around, meanwhile, are subject to the toughest punishment available if they are arrested and charged with a violent crime going forward. No more plea deals, no more excuses. No more second chances.
Oakland originally put the Ceasefire program in place in 2012, and over the next five years homicides plunged by almost 50%. As the numbers dropped, though, officials devoted less time and attention to keeping the operation going, and it was basically laid dormant by the pandemic in 2020. Over the next few years homicides spiked once again, and authorities once more turned to Ceasefire in 2024.
There are a lot of reasons why conservatives should embrace the Ceasefire model, even if it was first adopted in uber-liberal Boston and can appear at first blush to be another soft-on-crime policy from progressives. Fundamentally, conservatives understand the importance of the individual; their freedoms, responsibilities, and accountability for their own actions.
So too does Ceasefire. It seeks to not just hold individuals accountable for their actions, but to give them the tools they need to reshape their lives for the better. In Oakland, that approach involves a number of "life coaches" who are in daily contact with the at-risk individuals they're mentoring
“People may underestimate how little the clients believe in themselves, and how little they value their own lives,” said Holly Joshi, chief of the violence prevention department.
Once selected, the men meet or learn of people whose lives have been forever changed by gang violence, such as parents who have lost a child, or someone left paralyzed able to communicate only by clicking their tongue.
Last year, Bernard, a 27-year-old former gang member, was among 200 people matched with a life coach. He was contacted as he was leaving prison after serving six years for attempted robbery. Today, he has a full-time job, an apartment and a new outlook.
He’s more aware of community ties, he says.
“When I was younger, I didn’t realize I wasn’t only hurting myself. I was hurting everybody around me, everybody who cared for me,” said Bernard, who asked that his last name not be used because he fears sharing his background could hurt his future opportunities.
LaSasha Long is Bernard's life coach. She's nine years older than he is, and grew up in difficult circumstances after her mother was shot and killed before she was old enough to start school. Though she's offered Bernard plenty of advice and guidance, she maintains that he's "the pilot" in charge of his own destiny.
Individuals like Bernard have to want to change in order for Ceasefire to be successful. But as it turns out, if given a real opportunity to escape a life of gang violence, drugs, and the chaos that inevitably comes with them, a lot of guys are eager to make the changes necessary.
Bernard aspires to be like Long one day, a coach who can offer a lifeline to others who grew up surrounded by violence and with bills to pay. His mother was loving but addicted to drugs. His father was in and out of jail.
He has discovered the joy of helping people.
On a recent day, Bernard was on break from his job cleaning streets in San Francisco when he saw a teen crash his bike. The old him would not have rushed over, much less reassured the embarrassed boy that everyone falls sometimes.
But Bernard helped wash the gravel burn on the boy’s face and told him jokingly: “Tell your girl you got jumped.”
“All some of us need is to see or know that people care,” he said. “Once people realize that, I believe they start to do better, they want to do better. They figure there’s more to life.”
Ceasefire doesn't need any new gun control measures to be effective. It doesn't require demonizing gun owners or gun makers, nor does it depend on destroying or denigrating the Second Amendment. It hinges on individual responsibility, but with guidance and support from a broader community.
We know that a small number of individuals in any given community are responsible for a large share of violent crimes. Some research indicates as little as 1% of the population commits more than 60% of violent crimes. Focused deterrence efforts like Ceasefire are aimed directly at that population, instead of casting a wide net of new gun laws that inevitably ensnare far more legal gun owners than prolific, violent offenders. It's a constitutionally sound approach to public safety that has the added bonus of actually being effective, unlike California's draconian gun control regime.
