A plastic license plate cover or tinted LED lights can make you a criminal in Florida.
That’s not hyperbole — it’s a new state law. A person may not “alter the original appearance” of a vehicle registration or license plate or do anything that “interferes with the legibility, angular visibility, or detectability of any feature or detail… or interferes with the ability to record any feature or detail on the license plate.” Charges range from misdemeanors to felonies. Penalties vary from a $500 fine to jail time.
Lawmakers say it’s about “visibility.” Plates must be legible to law enforcement and automated cameras. That sounds reasonable. But in practice, this small tweak gives police yet another reason to pull drivers over. While the language above may seem specific, in reality, it’s remarkably vague. Who determines what “angular visibility” means? “Detectability?”
The language leaves room for discretion. That discretion is a problem.
Florida already gives police broad discretion over minor equipment and registration violations, which has drawn criticism. With the new law, a few millimeters of plastic are now a pretext for initiating a stop.
This may not seem like an issue if everyone is equally likely to be pulled over — but they’re not.
Data across the country suggests that Black drivers are pulled over and searched at higher rates than white drivers, even after accounting for factors like location and time of day. Hispanic drivers face similar disparities, as police tend to require less suspicion to justify a search and yet recover contraband at lower rates than from white drivers — clear signs of a double standard in enforcement.
These inequities also reflect how encounters unfold. Black Americans are over three times as likely as white people to face threats or use of force and six times as likely to experience police misconduct. Hispanic individuals are twice as likely as whites to report misconduct, highlighting how bias affects not just who is stopped, but how they are treated. When enforcement depends on subjective judgment, discretion becomes policy.
Defenders of this policy — and policies like it — cite public safety as the primary objective. However, unless the state is facing a slew of unsolved crimes involving license plate covers, it’s hard to see how this law will meaningfully enhance public safety. What the rule does is widen the field of criminal exposure for ordinary people, especially those least able to afford a ticket, a court date, or the higher insurance premiums that follow.
The Florida Legislature didn’t debate this as an expansion of police power. It passed quietly, viewed as a technical fix. But anyone who understands modern governance, surveillance or policing knows how “technical fixes” work. They’re the Trojan horses of state overreach — small, dull and dangerous in aggregate.
The issue isn’t just the rule itself; it’s what it represents. Passing these laws lets politicians tout themselves as “tough on crime,” without confronting any actual public-safety threats. It’s performance dressed as policy. Legislators get credit for cracking down; police gain new discretionary power, and taxpayers foot the bill for more arrests, court cases, and jail time.
This is more than inefficiency — it’s the quiet logic of authoritarianism. Expanding the range of punishable behaviors, however trivial, normalizes the idea that the state should intervene first and justify later. When everything becomes an offense, everyone becomes a suspect.
Criminalizing trivial behavior doesn’t deter crime; it manufactures it. Instead of allocating resources toward violent offenses or genuine safety hazards, officers are incentivized to chase technicalities. These activities don’t make us safer; they do place additional strain on our limited criminal justice resources and open the door for civil liberty violations — all for the sake of reading a license plate.
There’s a simpler way forward. Make plate violations a civil issue again. Require police departments to publish data on stops tied to “visibility” infractions. If lawmakers truly care about legibility, they could ditch the handcuffs and invest in better lighting for state-issued tags.
Florida’s new plate law might look like harmless housekeeping, but it reveals something larger: a government that increasingly polices the trivial while ignoring the structural. A society that trades liberty for the illusion of order ends up with neither.
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Patrik S. Ward is an economics student at the University of Tampa and a member of the Adam Smith Society.
Abigail R. Hall is an Associate Professor of Economics at the University of Tampa and a Senior Fellow at the Independent Institute.