Across the United States, automatic license plate readers have quietly become a staple of modern policing. These cameras, perched on traffic lights and patrol cars, snap photos of passing vehicles, logging where and when they were seen. Police departments have leaned on this technology for years to crack cases, but a recent surge in federal agencies tapping into local license plate data has sparked fresh controversy—especially in so-called sanctuary states that restrict cooperation with federal immigration enforcement.
According to NPR, the increase in federal lookups has not gone unnoticed. Phil Neff, research coordinator at the University of Washington’s Center for Human Rights, has been poring over internal audits from police departments that store their license plate records in the cloud. Neff was startled by what he found: "Some of the comments you see are, well, these are only tracking criminals. But that's not true. It's everyone," he told NPR. His research revealed that over the summer of 2025, there were hundreds—if not thousands—of searches by U.S. Border Patrol, often using search terms as broad as "investigation" or "targeting."
This uptick in federal interest is especially troubling for states like Washington, which have enacted laws to limit the information local police can share with immigration authorities. Ryan Rutledge, deputy chief of police in Renton, a suburb of Seattle singled out by Neff’s research, described his reaction bluntly: "Yeah, it was alarming to hear that, and we wanted to dig in right away and find out what we need to do." As soon as the issue came to light, Renton’s police department temporarily locked down outside access to its license plate data while it reviewed its settings.
Rutledge was clear on one point: "You know, did we go in and click a box to give access to these federal agencies? No, we did not." The confusion, it seems, centers on a setting called "national lookup" in the data system used by these departments. That system is run by Flock Safety, a company that has rapidly become the go-to supplier of license plate readers and cloud-based data management for police agencies nationwide.
Flock Safety, for its part, insists that the responsibility for granting access lies squarely with the agencies themselves. Holly Balin, a spokesperson for the company, told NPR, "Flock has never opted any agencies into sharing relationships that they did not opt themselves into." She emphasized that it’s normal and legal for agencies in Washington to cooperate with federal authorities on criminal matters such as human trafficking. "We see agencies cooperate with federal agencies for these complex cases that are very much within the purview of their laws. But again, that's not Flock, to determine whether agencies cooperate with federal agencies or they don't. That is entirely up to them," Balin said.
But the real sticking point is whether—and how often—federal agencies are using local license plate data for immigration enforcement, which is prohibited by sanctuary state policies. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) did not respond to NPR’s request for comment. However, the Trump administration has repeatedly criticized sanctuary states, accusing them of obstructing federal immigration enforcement efforts.
The debate is not confined to Washington. In California, state law explicitly bans police from sending license plate data outside its borders. In November 2025, Attorney General Rob Bonta sent letters to 20 local police departments, warning them that their systems were open to out-of-state law enforcement. Most departments, Bonta said, were caught off guard. "It seemed like it wasn't voluntary. It was unwittingly. And they changed the permissions and the sharing, and that was that from 19 of the 20. They fixed the problem," Bonta explained to NPR.
But not every department complied so readily. The city of El Cajon pushed back, with city manager Graham Mitchell telling NPR that they were not sharing data with federal agencies, but believed they were within their rights to share with police departments in other states. Bonta, unconvinced, is now suing El Cajon, suspecting the city is funneling data to federal immigration authorities indirectly—by sharing with out-of-state police in places like Texas, which often work closely with ICE.
According to Bonta, the search terms used by federal agencies included "immigration," "immigration enforcement," "immigration violation," and "ICE assist"—suggesting that the data was indeed being sought for immigration-related purposes. This indirect sharing, Bonta argues, undermines the intent of California’s sanctuary laws and poses a significant risk to residents who may be targeted for immigration enforcement.
The controversy has reignited long-standing debates about surveillance and privacy. Advocacy groups warn that the widespread collection and retention of license plate data amounts to a dragnet that sweeps up the movements of ordinary Americans—not just suspected criminals. As Phil Neff pointed out, "it's everyone" who is being tracked, not just those under suspicion.
Even Attorney General Bonta, while acknowledging the privacy risks, stops short of calling for the abolition of these databases. Instead, he argues for clear and enforceable guardrails on who can access the data and for what purposes. "As long as his state enforces clear guardrails on who gets the data," Bonta believes the benefits of the system can be preserved without sacrificing civil liberties, according to NPR.
Flock Safety’s role in all this is complex. While the company maintains that it does not unilaterally grant access to federal agencies, the proliferation of its technology—and the sometimes confusing web of sharing permissions—has made it harder for local departments to ensure compliance with state laws. The "national lookup" feature, in particular, has been cited as a source of confusion, with some departments unaware that their data was accessible to out-of-state or federal agencies until it was brought to their attention by researchers or state officials.
For now, the response from local police has been mixed. Many departments, once notified, have swiftly changed their permissions to comply with state law. Others, like El Cajon, remain defiant, setting the stage for legal battles that could clarify—or further complicate—the rules around data sharing and immigration enforcement.
Meanwhile, the broader questions raised by this episode remain unresolved. How much surveillance is too much? Who should control access to sensitive data about people’s daily movements? And can technology designed to keep communities safe be used in ways that threaten the very freedoms it was meant to protect?
As the legal and political wrangling continues, one thing is clear: the intersection of technology, law enforcement, and immigration policy is only getting more tangled. With automatic license plate readers now ubiquitous, and both federal and local agencies eager to tap into their potential, the debate over privacy, civil liberties, and public safety is far from over.
For residents in sanctuary states—and indeed, for anyone concerned about the reach of government surveillance—the outcome of these battles will be worth watching closely.
