These developments raise a number of questions: Are drones safe enough to be flown in dense neighborhoods and cities? Is it a violation of people's privacy for police to fly drones overhead at an event or protest? Who decides what level of drone autonomy is acceptable in a war zone? Those questions are no longer hypothetical. Advancements in drone technology and sensors, falling prices, and easing regulations are making drones cheaper, faster, and more capable than ever.

Quick, efficient and with a bird's eye view of any scene, more police departments are embracing the use of drones to carry out law enforcement work, with some blue cities now even using them to respond to 911 calls. Around 1,500 police departments across the country are currently using drones in some form, according to a report by the Electronic Frontier Foundation, a digital privacy group, with agencies deploying the technology for crowd control purposes, missing people searches, tracking fleeing suspects or mapping crime scenes. Steep budget cuts and dwindling staff numbers in blue cities, in particular, make drones both an effective and cost-saving tool for police in Democratic strongholds. A law enforcement official sets up a drone during a manhunt for suspect Robert Card following a mass shooting on Oct. 27, 2023, in Monmouth, Maine. Today's police drones are much bigger than regular drones commonly used for recreational purposes, with much longer battery lives and features such as thermal sensors, loudspeakers, spotlights or beacons.

A black-and-white drone about the size of a sofa cushion took off with a gentle whir at the Hawthorne Police Department earlier this month, hovering and darting back and forth a few times before landing on a podium to a round of applause. A small audience and local TV news crews had gathered to see the unveiling of "Responder," marketed as the first drone built specifically to respond to 911 calls by quickly arriving at scenes, beaming a live video feed and, if necessary, dropping off medical supplies. The company behind the new drone, Seattle-based Brinc -- a tech startup with a 24-year-old chief executive -- has boasted it will "revolutionize the public safety landscape." But law enforcement agencies across Southern California and the country already employ drones for a variety of purposes, including 911 response, and skeptics warn about the risk of "mission creep" when the technology is weaponized or used for surveillance. Some Los Angeles activists have fought to limit police drone use, but Hawthorne's adoption of Brinc's Responder is a sign some local authorities are continuing to embrace unmanned aerial vehicles despite the pushback and price tag.

The use of police drones is "poised to explode" in the next year as law enforcement takes advantage of the technology's proliferation, leaving public regulation and transparency efforts in danger of being caught woefully behind, civil rights advocates warn. "A world where flying robotic police cameras constantly crisscross our skies is one we have never seen before," Jay Stanley, senior policy analyst with the American Civil Liberties Union, wrote in a report released Thursday. "Yet there are strong reasons to believe that such a world may be coming faster than most people realize." At least 1,400 police departments across the country are using drones in some fashion, but only 15 have obtained waivers from the Federal Aviation Administration to fly their drones beyond the visual line of sight, or BVLOS, of operators. That means the vast majority of departments are still limited in the types of calls they can respond to with drones.

In the skies above Chula Vista, California, where the police department runs a drone program 10 hours a day, seven days a week, it's not uncommon to see an unmanned aerial vehicle darting across the sky. Chula Vista is one of a dozen departments in the US that operate what are called drone-as-first-responder programs, where drones are dispatched by pilots, who are listening to live 911 calls, and often arrive first at the scenes of accidents, emergencies, and crimes, cameras in tow. But many argue that police forces' adoption of drones is happening too quickly. The use of drones as surveillance tools and first responders is a fundamental shift in policing, one without a well-informed public debate around privacy regulations, tactics, and limits. There's also little evidence available of its efficacy, with scant proof that drone policing reduces crime.

One evening in February last year, a 23-year-old Uber driver named Niradi Srikanth was getting ready to start another shift, ferrying passengers around the south Indian city of Hyderabad. He pointed the phone at his face to take a selfie to verify his identity. The process usually worked seamlessly. But this time he was unable to log in. Srikanth suspected it was because he had recently shaved his head.

A small drone descends from the skies and hovers in front of my face. The police are conducting routine checks in the neighborhood. I feel as if the drone's camera is drilling into me. I try to turn my back to it, but the drone follows me like a heat-seeking missile. It asks me to please put my hands up, and scans my face and body.

"Communities should ask hard questions about these programs. As the power and scope of this technology expands, so does the need for privacy protection," said Jay Stanley, a senior policy analyst with the American Civil Liberties Union's Project on Speech, Privacy and Technology. "Drones can be used to investigate known crimes. But they are also sensors that can generate offenses." With the pandemic still worsening, drones are a way of policing at a distance, said Rahul Sidhu, an officer in Redondo Beach, near Los Angeles, which started a program similar to the one in Chula Vista just after the virus reached the United States.

The isolated Twin Lake beach outside of Minneapolis is known as a haven for freewheeling summer behavior, a place where sunbathers feel comfortable socializing, drinking, and occasionally taking their tops off. According to local authorities, the beach has also been the site of sexual assaults, drownings, drunk driving, and other illicit behavior, drawing regular complaints from nearby homeowners. On July 10, police decided to take action. But instead of sending on-foot officers to the scene to hunt for rule-breakers, they flew their zoom camera–equipped DJI Matrice drone over the beach, in hope of catching them in the act. Police reasoned that the drone could help them deescalate things by avoiding unnecessary personal interaction, in light of the pandemic and the police brutality protests that had ignited over the death of George Floyd at the hands of an officer in late May, in nearby Minneapolis.

Since the death of George Floyd on May 25, Americans have taken to the streets to peacefully protest in unprecedented numbers, calling for an end to our national culture of racism and police brutality. These protests have, on too many occasions, been met with violent force from police, who have been caught on camera using tear gas, pepper spray, rubber bullets, and other supposedly less-lethal weapons against unarmed and compliant people. Police around the country are also devoting considerable time and energy to collecting intelligence on protesters and protest movements, with methods ranging from monitoring social media posts to aerial surveillance--sometimes, with drones. Police, military, and federal government forces have regularly flown surveillance helicopters and small, crewed surveillance aircraft over protest areas, capturing real-time video and photographs of protest movements. The New York Times found that by mid-June, the Department of Homeland Security had captured more than 270 hours of surveillance footage of protests from helicopters, airplanes, and drones, data that was shared with a digital network accessible by other federal agencies and by police departments.