Stein's Public Safety Budget Spends Big But Misses the Real Crisis

North Carolina Governor Josh Stein stood before the state’s sheriffs, microphone in hand, delivering a speech brimming with gratitude for law enforcement. His words painted a vivid picture: officers as heroes, running toward danger while others flee. It’s the kind of rhetoric that warms the heart of anyone who values public safety. Yet, as Stein unveiled his 2025-2027 budget, the applause faded into skepticism. His $67.9 billion plan, packed with flashy proposals like a Fentanyl Control Unit and a Cold Case Unit, sounds bold but crumbles under scrutiny. For those of us who demand results over rhetoric, Stein’s approach feels like a well-meaning but misguided swing at the plate.

Public safety is non-negotiable. North Carolinians deserve streets where families can walk without fear and communities where justice prevails. Stein’s budget, however, leans on big spending and centralized control, raising red flags for anyone wary of government overreach. His plan promises raises for officers and new specialized units, but it sidesteps the deeper issues plaguing law enforcement: staffing crises, bureaucratic inefficiencies, and the need for local autonomy. A closer look reveals a proposal that’s more about headlines than solutions.

The governor’s speech to the sheriffs was a masterclass in optics. Who could argue with supporting those who protect us? But optics don’t solve crimes or fill empty police rosters. Stein’s budget, while draped in the language of safety, risks becoming another example of government promising much and delivering little. For North Carolinians who value fiscal discipline and effective governance, this plan demands a critical eye.

Law enforcement across the country is bleeding officers, and North Carolina is no exception. A 2024 survey by the International Association of Chiefs of Police found agencies nationwide operating at just 91% of authorized staffing levels. In major cities, departments are short hundreds of officers, while smaller towns struggle to keep their forces intact. The reasons are clear: a competitive job market, negative public perceptions, and the toll of high-profile incidents that paint police as villains. Stein’s response? Throw money at the problem with raises and signing bonuses for new recruits.

On the surface, it’s a reasonable move. Higher pay and incentives could attract fresh talent to a profession that’s been battered by years of scrutiny. But salaries alone don’t fix a broken system. Recruitment woes stem from deeper cultural and structural issues, like the erosion of respect for law enforcement and the bureaucratic hurdles that slow hiring. Stein’s budget ignores these, opting instead for a cash-heavy approach that risks inflating costs without addressing root causes. True support for officers means streamlining hiring, fostering community trust, and shielding departments from federal meddling.

Contrast this with solutions championed by those who prioritize local control. In states like Texas, agencies have tackled shortages by cutting red tape and partnering with communities to rebuild trust. These efforts don’t require bloated budgets; they demand creativity and commitment. Stein’s plan, by contrast, feels like a one-size-fits-all fix that could leave taxpayers footing the bill for underwhelming results.

Stein’s budget highlights two eye-catching initiatives: a Fentanyl Control Unit to combat opioid trafficking and a Cold Case Unit focused on unsolved sexual assault cases. Both address real crises. Fentanyl, a synthetic opioid, fueled 69% of fatal overdoses in 2023, devastating families across the state. Cold cases, meanwhile, leave victims without justice and communities without closure. These are problems that demand action, and Stein’s proposals sound like steps in the right direction. But dig deeper, and the cracks appear.

The Fentanyl Control Unit, for instance, risks becoming another layer of bureaucracy. Recent data shows fentanyl seizures are already declining, thanks to aggressive border security and international cooperation. California alone seized over 1,000 pounds in early 2025, proving that targeted enforcement works. Stein’s unit, however, could duplicate existing efforts, draining resources from proven strategies. Similarly, the Cold Case Unit, while noble, faces the reality of limited funding and competing priorities. Nationwide, cold case work often relies on federal grants and forensic advancements, not state-level task forces that may struggle to scale.

Advocates for efficient governance argue that these issues are better tackled through partnerships, not new government programs. Strengthening local police with federal support, like the Bureau of Justice Assistance’s cold case grants, delivers results without reinventing the wheel. Stein’s centralized approach, by contrast, smells of political posturing, prioritizing splashy announcements over practical outcomes.

Stein’s budget operates in a vacuum, ignoring the broader federal landscape. House Republican proposals for 2025, for instance, call for a 2% cut to federal law enforcement funding, reflecting a push to curb Washington’s overreach into local policing. Programs like Community Oriented Policing Services, which Stein’s plan implicitly relies on, face scrutiny for enabling cities that slash their own police budgets. This tension highlights a core principle: local communities, not distant bureaucrats, should drive public safety.

Stein’s silence on federal overreach is telling. His budget assumes a steady flow of resources, but the reality is messier. Those who value state sovereignty see his plan as dangerously dependent on a federal government that’s increasingly skeptical of blank-check policing grants. A smarter approach would empower local sheriffs and police chiefs, giving them the flexibility to address their communities’ unique needs without Raleigh’s heavy hand.

Public safety doesn’t need more government programs; it needs smarter ones. North Carolinians deserve a system that respects law enforcement, prioritizes victims, and spends taxpayer dollars wisely. Instead of piling on new units and bloated budgets, Stein could learn from states that have tackled similar challenges with precision. New Jersey, for example, boosted its State Police with targeted funding for 153 new troopers, avoiding the temptation to overcomplicate. Washington State’s grant program ties funding to local revenue, ensuring accountability.

The answer lies in empowering local law enforcement with resources and autonomy. Streamline hiring to fill vacant positions. Invest in proven technologies, like DNA databases for cold cases, rather than creating redundant task forces. And when it comes to fentanyl, double down on border security and international partnerships that are already yielding results. These aren’t flashy fixes, but they work. They respect the men and women in uniform while delivering the safety North Carolinians demand.

Governor Stein’s budget is a classic case of good intentions gone astray. His proposals tug at the heartstrings, promising safer streets and justice for victims. But promises don’t cut it when officers are overworked, budgets are stretched, and communities are crying out for real solutions. North Carolinians need a governor who respects their tax dollars and trusts their local leaders, not one who reaches for centralized control and headline-grabbing initiatives.

The path to safer communities runs through efficiency, local empowerment, and unwavering18. It’s time to reject the allure of big government fixes and embrace a leaner, more effective approach to public safety. Let’s back our officers with the tools they need, not the bureaucracy they don’t. That’s the conservative vision for North Carolina, and it’s one worth fighting for.