It has been done before

The Los Angeles Police Department ended its Flock contract.[20]

The tacticAn accuracy audit, not a privacy argument.

LAPD's own audit reportedly found roughly one in three hot-list alerts was false. That reframed the debate: the objection was no longer that the system works too well, but that it does not work well enough to justify the stops it generates. For anyone told these cameras are simply a public safety tool, this is the most useful example on the list — the largest municipal police department in California looked at its own numbers and walked away.

Unanimous vote to terminate the contract and remove the cameras — six days after residents organized.[22]

The tacticAn outside legal letter, plus a full room.

The ACLU sent the council a letter on July 22. Residents filled the meeting. The council voted unanimously on July 28 to terminate and remove. Little Compton, Warren, and Portsmouth followed. This is the closest model for a town our size: no lawsuit, no expertise, no years of organizing. A letter from a credible outside organization, and enough neighbors in the room that the council could see them.

Council revoked its approval one day after a public meeting.[3]

The tacticAsk the vendor a narrow factual question, on the record.

A Flock representative told the council the system does not create a heat map of an individual's movements. It does. Once that was established, the council revoked its approval the next day. The lesson is precise and copyable: do not argue with the sales representative. Ask them a specific, checkable question in a public meeting where the answer goes into the minutes, then check it.

City council rejected the proposal unanimously.[7]

The tacticA public records request for the search logs.

A resident obtained the audit logs under Colorado's open records act. They showed Denver's data had been searched more than 1,400 times in connection with federal immigration enforcement. The council had not known. This is the single highest-leverage action available to any resident, and it requires one email.

Council voted 6–1 to terminate the contract.[23]

The tacticSustained local pressure through the renewal cycle.

A California city working under the same state law that applies in Yucca Valley — including the restrictions on sharing data with out-of-state and federal agencies.

Revoked out-of-state access to its ALPR database.[8]

The tacticFound the specific violation in its own data.

Evanston discovered seven ICE searches of its data despite a state law banning that sharing. Seven. Not seven hundred. A small, specific, documented violation was enough — because it proved the town had lost control of who was searching, not merely that it might.

Let the contract expire, then passed an ordinance requiring council approval for any future ALPR use.[21]

The tacticA broad coalition, plus the city's own audit.

More than 30 community groups organized against renewal. An audit of the police department's own program found over 20% of searches lacked required justification. The city manager pulled the renewal from the agenda rather than take it to a vote.

Honestly, thoughBy February 2026 the police department had found a workaround, and the state police installed their own readers in Austin regardless. This is the strongest argument for asking for an ordinance alongside a cancellation — and we would rather tell you this than have someone raise it at a meeting.

Ordered the cameras physically removed from utility poles.[12]

The tacticDiscovered that switching them off was not enough.

The town disabled its cameras. The company restored power to them remotely, without notifying the town. Littleton then ordered them taken down. If your council agrees to only one thing, make sure it is removal and data deletion — not deactivation.