Three years ago, Lansing residents greeted crime-fighting surveillance cameras with a mixed response. Now there are 22 cameras on poles in 11 areas around the city and requests by residents for cameras in their neighborhood keep coming, police say. But since the installation of the cameras, a handful of disgruntled residents have grabbed the attention of the American Civil Liberties Union.

The Lansing chapter of the ACLU, in conjunction with the state chapter, has created the Committee Against Video Surveillance in Residential Neighborhoods, which is co-chaired by Randy Watkins, and a state employee.

Camera opponents claim the cameras merely move crime and that there are less expensive and more effective ways to fight drug trafficking and thuggery. They fear the cameras target minority groups and surveillance is collected with fuzzy guidelines — they wonder who is watching the watchers.

Organizing efforts have begun in the Knollwood and Willow neighborhood, just north of the former School for the Blind, where two cameras watch comings and goings. Together, with a new communitybased nonprofit organization, the ACLU will produce a report in 30 days saying that the cameras are not only discriminatory but also a waste of crime fighting dollars.

“There are no statistics proving that cameras stop crimes,” Watkins said.

Walter Brown’s house is within range of the Willow Street cameras. He has worked for two years to grow visibility for his anticamera cause, regularly taking the podium during public comment at City Council meetings.

Brown cites studies showing that cameras across the country target minority groups.

But Lansing Police Capt. Ray Hall, while acknowledging high-crime areas tend to have higher numbers of minorities for sociological and economic reasons, says the cameras are useful tools.

The images captured at the time of a shooting in Hunter Park on the city’s east side last fall revealed that two gangs were involved, which gave the detectives valuable information. Meanwhile, a shooting at the Venue Live nightclub in November was caught on a camera. A 911 dispatcher was able to see a crowd gathering and alert officers. The dispatcher described what she was seeing as officers rushed to the scene.

“The cameras were very helpful,” Hall said.

Hall said crime incidents within 500 feet of the Willow cameras dropped from 49 when the cameras were installed in 2007 to 30 in 2009. Hall also acknowledged, however, that within 1,000 feet, the incidents increased from 69 to 76.

Shopkeepers on Willow Street concurred.

“People used to stand outside selling drugs. Now they go down the street, just so the cameras can’t see them,” said Save On Market employee Craig Westervelt. But manager Sunny Kumar said the cameras have been good for the store.

“I don’t have to call the police now. They just come ‘cause they see what’s coming down,” he said.

The conflicted reception of the cameras has played out globally. Nine hundred cameras will watch the Olympic Winter Games in Vancouver next month, and that city is mulling whether to permanently install 90 cameras. People worry about the handling of images captured by the cameras.

Watkins and Brown were at the first meeting to organize a coalition last week at Willow Elementary School. Nine people attended bringing mixed opinions about the cameras. Osas Idusuyi, originally from Nigeria, has lived in the neighborhood for nearly eight years and thinks the cameras are effective.

“I have many friends in European countries where the cameras are everywhere. They’re no big deal,” she said.

But Avani Bhatt, of ACLU Michigan, told the residents that while London has used surveillance cameras for 30 years, they have not proven effective in fighting crime. Demonstrators in Paris in October accused the government of targeting minorities with cameras in the guise of capturing terrorists. American cities that have had cameras are dismantling them, including Detroit and Oakland, Calif.

The ACLU says much of the conflict is related to terrorism concerns, which has led to the lowering of privacy standards. It has created a research center focusing on civil liberties issues called the Electronic Privacy Information Center. The center is particularly concerned about the so-far 66 information fusion centers across the country, including the Michigan Intelligence Operation Center, referred to as MyOp. It functions out of the Michigan State Police headquarters in East Lansing with about 40 employees, and will move to the new MSP headquarters in downtown Lansing in April, said Lt. Michael McCormick. He expects the department will grow as new relationships with public and private agencies are developed.

The fusion centers are hubs of a new domestic intelligence apparatus that collect information about crime, everyday activities, personal relationships and tips from the public about suspicious activity, the ACLU says.

Hall says his department does collaborate at times with the MSP but that procedures are followed for sharing information.

A seven-page policy manual governs the Lansing camera system, but some guidelines are vague. The manual says an advisory committee should meet monthly “or as needed.” It met about a year ago, and will do so again in a month or two, Hall said.

Federal Department of Homeland Security grants are helping grow the use of surveillance cameras, ACLU’s Bhatt said.

In fiscal year 2009, $1.71 billion in Homeland Security grants went to states and municipalities; $1.66 billion was for programs for video surveillance equipment and training.

The Lansing Police Department won nearly $1 million; $100,000 was to help pay for the city’s cameras. (The remaining $900,000 is going to secure local medical facilities.) The city has spent $87,870 to date on the leased cameras, and training and maintenance, not including $54,000 in private donations.

Even the Capital Area Transportation Authority has asked the LPD to monitor the 31 cameras in its central station in downtown Lansing. (While the LPD can watch CATA’s pictures, CATA cannot see the LPD images.)

Some split the camera debate, focusing on cameras in public places versus cameras in neighborhoods. The Knollwood-Willow argument centers on privacy in residential areas.

“We’ve had cameras in public areas for years,” said Brown. But he fears cameras pointing into people’s private backyards can amass information on who visits, what people purchase, even how they dress, and use it for nefarious purposes. For that matter, simply hanging a camera in a neighborhood brands it as an unsafe place.

But Hall has a quick rejoinder.

“Not any more than a drug deal going down on the corner,” he said.