The fear of becoming a victim of a violent crime has become routine. It is a structural problem, fueled by inequality, impunity, and institutional distrust.
In Latin America, insecurity is not a passing news story: it is a reality that has become part of the everyday landscape. Over the past three decades, one in three inhabitants has been a victim of a crime or has seen a close family member suffer one. And in the last fifteen years, eight out of ten have lived with the constant fear of being the next victim. It does not matter whether it is large cities or small towns, wealthy neighborhoods or neglected outskirts; fear crosses borders, social classes, and levels of education.
The thermometer of this concern is Latinobarómetro, the most representative survey in the region on this matter. The data, collected from 1995 to 2024, reveal that Latin Americans are always torn between two major specters: the economy and violence. In most countries, financial hardship—unemployment, inflation, low wages—competes neck and neck with insecurity as the main national problem. In Ecuador, Uruguay, or Costa Rica, violence has even come to overshadow economic concerns; and in Argentina or Bolivia, with relatively low homicide rates, the priority remains making ends meet. On average, between 1995 and 2024, the proportion of people who considered the economy the country’s main problem fell from 57% to 40%, while concern about violence rose from 11% to 21%.
Historical trends show peaks that coincide with political and economic crises. In Argentina, victimization reached 49% in 1998, amid the collapse of employment and declining trust in institutions. Mexico experienced its own shock in the early 2000s, when three out of four people said they had suffered a crime, coinciding with the militarization of the fight against drug trafficking.
But the most disturbing fact is not violence itself, but its shadow: fear has become an invisible routine. Indeed, over the past 15 years, 85% of Latin Americans have lived worried about becoming victims of a violent crime. In 2024, in Brazil 59% admit to being in a constant state of alert, while in Uruguay that figure is only 29%. In the case of El Salvador, fear fell from 57% in 2015 to a historic low of 10% in 2024, as a result of hardline policies that have drastically reduced crime, although at a high cost in terms of human rights. Educational level also plays a role: the higher the level of education, the greater the concern. And although statistics show that men and women suffer crimes in similar proportions, women feel more fear, a difference of four percentage points on average.
When asked about the most common type of violence, the answer is clear: street violence. This perception has grown from 33% to 42% in less than ten years. It is followed by violence against women and children, both on the rise. Bullying in schools has doubled, going from 11% to 22%. Domestic violence against women has risen from 23% to 30%. And new forms of fear have emerged: violence on social media and that associated with drug trafficking, around 20% in 2024.
When asked about trust in institutions, the answer is conclusive: only 10% declare “a lot” of trust in the police and 7% in the judiciary, while about a third trust them “not at all.” This distrust fuels a vicious cycle: fewer crimes are reported because people do not believe in the system, and the system does not improve because it lacks sufficient support and reporting.
In this context, technology appears as a double-edged sword. Electronic payments increase the sense of security by reducing the need to carry cash, especially among those with higher education and income. But digitalization also brings new risks: cybercrime is growing, from scams and fraud to identity theft, and governments always seem to be one step behind.
Insecurity is not only measured in crime statistics. It also has a brutal economic cost. According to the Inter-American Development Bank (IDB), crime costs the region 3.44% of its GDP, a pool of resources that could be allocated to schools, hospitals, or infrastructure. And behind each percentage point are failed stories, disrupted routines, and streets empty at nightfall.
Thirty years of data paint a clear diagnosis: insecurity in Latin America is a structural problem, fueled by inequality, impunity, and institutional distrust. But this challenge will not be solved with more patrol cars or prisons, but with comprehensive strategies that combine prevention, social cohesion, effective justice, and economic opportunities. Because, as one Guatemalan respondent said, “you stop walking without fear when you feel you have a future ahead of you.” Perhaps that is the key to breaking, once and for all, this cycle of fear and violence that has affected the region for a long time.