There are cameras everywhere in 2026: in doorbells, on cellphones, and embedded within eyeglasses. But that doesn’t mean they’ve illuminated the picture any further. 

Like many, the first footage I saw of an ICE agent killing Renee Good was filmed by bystander Caitlin Callenson, whose chaotic camerawork seemed to offer a sense of finality. We were witnessing yet another law enforcement officer abusing their power to tragic ends — a trend that continues to underscore ICE’s deployment of inexperienced personnel and quick trigger for violence.

“What the fuck did you do?” screamed Callenson, one of several witnesses who were left in shock.

Yet, almost as quickly as the narrative leaned in Good’s favor, an opposing narrative began to take root. In an ICE press statement, the agent, Jonathan Ross, was portrayed as acting in self-defense against a “domestic terrorist” who attempted to run him over. President Donald Trump and others in his orbit later took this claim further by claiming Ross had actually been run over, citing another bystander video that, from a far-off angle, seemingly confirmed ICE’s story.

“But when you look at the way… that car was pulled away, there are a couple versions of that tape that are very, very bad,” Trump told CBS News the following week. While he would later backtrack and call Ross’ actions a “mistake,” the kernel of doubt sown by the presidential administration has permanently clouded, and politicized, the matter.

However, there is one camera angle in this entangled mess that stands out, and it should be the definitive camera angle in any criminal or legal situation — the one from Ross’s body-worn camera, a standard tool for most law enforcement nationwide. 

The only trouble? He didn’t have one. 

Instead, Ross was, confoundingly, filming the events on his cellphone. The moment Good started driving away, he lost his grip on the phone, and a loud thud boomed. This meant the footage was rendered just as incomplete as all the others. But what about the thousands of ICE agents who don’t even think to use their phones?

While body cams are far from a perfect solution, their use seeks to hold both sides of the policing coin accountable. The suspect, whose actions are captured by the camera attached to the officer’s body, and the officer, whose actions are continuously recorded for transparency and accountability purposes. When they were first piloted in the U.K. in 2005, violent crime dropped by 8% in 10 weeks, and a 2020 study found that Boston police officers equipped with cameras received 63.6% less use-of-force complaints.

“Instead of just reading what’s in a police narrative, you’re able to actually verify what happened with the video and then take the necessary steps to either correct behavior or issue additional training,” said Keisha James, a staff attorney for the National Police Accountability Project. “Or, in some cases, then go and start the disciplinary and termination process for that officer.”

Unlike footage from bystanders — who, according to James, are usually told by police to stand a certain number of feet away from the interaction — body cameras act as a first-person black box, with high-quality audio and picture, and the ability to review footage after the fact. Body cam video shown in court was key in proving the murder of George Floyd by Minnesota officer Derek Chauvin, which in turn influenced a major nationwide shift toward federal agencies and police departments adopting body cam mandates. 

“It is ICE policy to utilize BWCs according to the processes, procedures, requirements, and limitations set forth in this Directive and Department of Homeland Security (DHS) policy,” read an ICE directive released last February. “Including activation as soon as practicable at the beginning of an Enforcement Activity and deactivation when the activity is concluded.”

Yet nearly one year after this statement was issued, there continues to be a curious lack of body cam footage released by the Department of Homeland Security. Major cities like Chicago are affected most publicly by this; no cameras were worn when Silverio Villegas González was fatally shot by ICE agents in September. After an October court order required Chicago ICE officers to equip themselves with body cams during Operation Midway Blitz, a public records request revealed that no such footage was available. 

In defense, ICE Deputy Field Director Shawn Byers has claimed federal funding is not adequate to support widespread implementation for agents.

This highlights a major roadblock that continues to keep some law enforcement agencies from going all the way with their camera coverage: the high price of individual BWCs. This, when considering maintenance, public records requests, and purchase costs, can reach into the thousands of dollars. While some smaller police departments are able to archive camera footage locally, large-scale operations require more robust cloud storage — especially when evidence needs to be stored for years.

Meaghan Paré, the acting deputy police chief of Haverhill, Mass., said the department has been discussing cameras “for years,” but it took until last week for the police union and city leaders to ratify a contract. Now, they await state grants.

“As long as we come up with the funding, we should be up at the end of the summer,” Paré told The Beacon in an interview.

The question must then be asked: If a 112-person police force is struggling to meet its funding goals, what might it take for ICE, which is roughly 22,000 officers and agents, to fully implement body cams in major cities? 

As Trump ramps up the deployment of immigration agents, politicians from both parties have highlighted the need for increased funding allocation toward the purchase of body cams. New Jersey Rep. Donald Norcross has introduced legislation requiring all ICE agents to be equipped with the technology, and Congress is currently negotiating a 2026 DHS spending bill which could allot a $20 million budget for camera purchases.

And yet, it’s not outrageous to say that nationwide body cam coverage should already be more widespread — especially when, contradictory to Byers’ statements, last year’s “One Big Beautiful Bill Act” allocated a whopping $75 billion toward immigration enforcement.

“It’s not uncommon to see an interaction begin with somebody asking an officer if their camera is on,” said James. “I don’t know if there are valid excuses now to not have a full body cam policy in place.”

2025 saw the death of at least 31 people in ICE custody, which stands as the agency’s deadliest year in two decades. Under the shadow of Good’s death, increased immigration enforcement descends on New England, and this violence will hit us soon enough. Yet, no matter what is or isn’t captured on video, I won’t forget one crucial element of Ross’ cellphone footage, an element that has gone unreported in millions of law enforcement interactions on thousands of American streets — and it’s something that never would have been heard by a surveillance camera or bystander.

“I’m not mad at you,” Good says, unmistakably, as Ross approaches her car. 

He shoots her dead less than a minute later.