In the summer of 2026, a quiet but spreading unease reached the street-level machinery of American towns: license plate cameras built by Flock Safety, which read the passing traffic of ordinary life, began going dark in places like El Cerrito, California. Across the country, city councils have been weighing a question older than any single device, namely how much a community is willing to be watched in exchange for being protected, and who gets to hold the record of where its people have been. Some have said no, others have paused, and supporters continue to argue that the tools help solve cri
Dozens of US Cities Reject or Switch Off Flock License Plate Cameras Over Privacy Fears
Cameras that went dark on June 7 in El Cerrito
Ninety-five cities rejecting Flock sounds like a wave. Is it?
It's a real pattern, and it's moved into council chambers, where residents show up and press their elected officials. El Cerrito's cameras were actually switched off on June 7.
Careful with the number, though. The 95, the 47 and the 22 all come from DeFlock, an anti-surveillance group. That's one tracker with a point of view, not an independent count.
And the scale of Flock itself?
DeFlock says it has mapped more than 122,000 cameras nationwide, and the report says thousands of communities still use ALPR technology.
Which means the cities pulling out are a minority. The reporting doesn't say what share of Flock's customers they represent.
What are people actually afraid of?
Long-term records of where cars go, and who can reach them. In El Cerrito, Rebecca Saltzman worried the law could change and force data turnover to the federal government.
That's a fear about what could happen. The piece doesn't document an actual federal demand on any of these cities.
Menominee is different, isn't it?
Yes. Cameras were reportedly turned on without council approval, and officials asked where the data was going.
Note the word reportedly. We don't have the company's side, and Flock hadn't responded when this was published. Its stated position is that the tech targets vehicles, not people.
Il Polso
- Council chambers across the country are filling with residents who fear that years of recorded vehicle movements could outlast the policies meant to contain them.
- A single contract switch-off in El Cerrito ignited a chain of decisions, as cities from Appleton to Menominee found their camera networks questioned, halted, or abandoned.
- Officials are scrambling to answer uncomfortable questions about who can see the data, whether federal agencies could reach it, and why some systems were activated before approval.
- The pushback is gaining ground, with advocacy tallies showing dozens of rejections and cancellations, yet thousands of communities still run the technology and Flock keeps expanding.
In the summer of 2026, a quiet but spreading unease reached the street-level machinery of American towns: license plate cameras built by Flock Safety, which read the passing traffic of ordinary life, began going dark in places like El Cerrito, California. Across the country, city councils have been weighing a question older than any single device, namely how much a community is willing to be watched in exchange for being protected, and who gets to hold the record of where its people have been. Some have said no, others have paused, and supporters continue to argue that the tools help solve crimes. The outcome of these local debates will reveal whether residents can still shape the terms of surveillance in their own neighborhoods.
On June 7, 2026, the license plate cameras in El Cerrito, California, went dark after the city council voted in May not to renew its contract with Flock Safety. It is one of a growing list of local decisions in which towns have turned away, canceled, or switched off Flock's automated license plate reader systems.
Council members there worried most about the possibility that federal authorities could reach the data. Mayor Pro Tem Rebecca Saltzman put it bluntly: the law keeps shifting, people are losing rights every week, and a future court or administration could compel Flock to hand over the records almost overnight.
Appleton, Wisconsin, made a similar move in May, pointing to community feedback and doubts about the integrity of Flock's system. Mayor Jake Woodford said those doubts had eroded the city's trust. Other places ended contracts after sustained public pressure, including Bloomington, Indiana, Tompkins County, New York, Ithaca, and Saranac Lake.
Some communities stopped before they started. In Shoreline, Washington, a planning meeting with Flock was abruptly canceled after opposition from residents and council members. In Menominee, Michigan, officials voted unanimously to cancel after cameras were reportedly activated without council approval and no one could say clearly where the information was going.
The objections echo from town to town: long-term records of where people drive, unclear storage and sharing rules, and whether residents were ever asked. Supporters counter that the cameras help police find stolen vehicles and crime leads, and that Flock says its technology targets vehicles, not people. Flock continues to expand, and the question now is whether more councils will follow El Cerrito, Appleton, and Menominee.
On June 7, 2026, the license plate cameras in El Cerrito, California, went dark. The city council had voted in May not to renew its contract with Flock Safety, and that switch-off was the result. It is one of a growing number of local decisions across the country in which cities have turned down, canceled or deactivated Flock's Automated License Plate Reader systems.
In El Cerrito, council members cited the possibility that the federal government could get at the data the cameras collect, along with dissatisfaction over the company's negotiations. Mayor Pro Tem Rebecca Saltzman said her biggest concern was federal access. She added that the law has been changing constantly, that people are losing more rights every week, and that Trump and the Supreme Court could change the law and require Flock to turn over the data tomorrow.
Appleton, Wisconsin, also announced in May that it was moving away from the system. City officials pointed to community feedback and worries about the program's integrity. Mayor Jake Woodford said in a statement that concerns about the integrity of Flock's underlying system had eroded the city's trust.
Other governments have formally ended contracts after public opposition. Bloomington, Indiana, terminated a $50,000 agreement with Flock after significant community pushback. Tompkins County, New York, cut its contract after months of organized activism by residents worried about surveillance. Ithaca and Saranac Lake, both in New York, canceled theirs after privacy concerns and public criticism.
Some places stopped deployments before they began. In Shoreline, Washington, a planning meeting with Flock was abruptly canceled in April after public opposition and concerns from council members. Mayor Betsy Robertson told a local outlet, The Osprey, that several council members felt it was not a good time and not something they wanted to pursue, and that there were no plans to talk with Flock. In Menominee, Michigan, city leaders voted unanimously in May to cancel an existing arrangement after cameras were reportedly activated without council approval; officials questioned where the collected information was going and how the system had been turned on before formal authorization. Salem, Illinois, canceled its agreement after changes to the contract terms worried city officials.
Not every community has gone as far as a ban. In some, officials have simply shut off systems already in place while they reassess privacy and oversight. The anti-surveillance group DeFlock, which tracks these decisions, counts 22 jurisdictions that have deactivated cameras, 47 that have canceled contracts and 25 that have rejected proposed agreements. It lists only one, Ypsilanti, Michigan, as having formally banned ALPRs outright. The group also says 95 cities have rejected ALPR systems, and that more than 122,000 license plate reader cameras have been mapped nationwide. Those tallies come from DeFlock, an advocacy organization, not from an independent count.
The objections recur from town to town. Critics say ALPR networks can build long-term records of where vehicles travel, and they ask how the data is stored, who can see it and whether it ends up shared beyond the local agency that gathered it. Others raise federal access, information-sharing, transparency about how the technology works, and whether residents were consulted before approval. The fight has moved from online criticism into council chambers, where residents have organized campaigns and attended meetings, and several cancellations on DeFlock's list were explicitly attributed to public opposition.
Supporters see it differently. They say the cameras help police investigate crimes, find stolen vehicles and generate leads, and Flock has consistently maintained that its technology focuses on vehicles rather than people and is meant to support public safety. Newsweek said it reached out to the company for comment.
Thousands of communities still use the technology, and Flock continues to expand. What to watch is whether more councils follow El Cerrito, Appleton and Menominee in ending their arrangements.
Citazioni salienti
Ultimately my biggest concern is the federal government could access the data.— Rebecca Saltzman, El Cerrito Mayor Pro Tem
Concerns about the integrity of Flock's underlying system have eroded our trust.— Jake Woodford, Mayor of Appleton, Wisconsin