The killing of Ahmaud Arbery reveals a number of troubling truths about our society, law enforcement and the criminal justice system. If you are black, you can be killed based on mere suspicion that you have committed a crime, denied the benefit of an unbiased and adequate police law enforcement investigation, and be denied equal treatment and protection under the law.

As a trial attorney, I find it hard to conceive of a winning defense strategy in the criminal prosecutions of Gregory and Travis McMichael that does not racialize, criminalize and devalue black lives. While I respect the constitutional right to a fair trial and effective assistance of counsel, even the most creative rationalization of this incident cannot avoid the unescapable truth that Arbery was killed because he is black.

As described by his grieving father, the shooting death of Arbery was a "modern-day lynching." At 25 years old, Arbery was gunned down in the road where he was jogging after being chased and confronted by two armed white men in a pickup truck. While attempting to defend himself, Arbery struggled with one of the men who was carrying a shotgun, while the second man brandished a pistol. Arbery died from shotgun wounds to his chest.

This incident occurred in a predominantly white and middle-class neighborhood in Brunswick, Georgia. Like many southern cities, Brunswick has a significant black population, but a checkered history of race relations, despite once being labeled a "model Southern city" for its peaceful path toward desegregation.

It is no coincidence that for more than two months the circumstances surrounding Arbery's death did not result in an arrest or any meaningful investigation by local police and prosecutors. But for the public release of a video of the incident, and the resulting public outcry, Gregory and Travis McMichael, father and son, would not have been arrested and charged with the murder and aggravated assault of Arbery.

The death of Arbery is reminiscent of the post-Reconstruction era in the South, where white supremacy, white lynch mobs, and vigilante killings of black men was business as usual. The assault and death of Arbery is the fruit of America's history of racism, oppression, dehumanization, and criminalization of black people. With the release of the video, Arbery's death has been widely condemned, but should not be viewed as an isolated incident.

The senseless and brutal killing of Arbery illustrates the ongoing problem and viciousness of racism, specifically racial profiling and stereotyping of black people as criminals who must be captured, punished, and taught a lesson. Even worse, the Arbery case landed on the desk of two prosecutors who recused themselves, before a third prosecutor received the case in mid-April, which led to the arrest and charges against the McMichaels. As if conceding there can be no justice for Arbery in South Georgia, the case is now assigned to a fourth prosecutor in metro Atlanta.

Arbery could have been any black person in America. To his white assailants, it did not matter whether he was a doctor, lawyer, bus driver or student. It did not matter if he was a father, husband, son, or brother. Even if his assailants truly believed he committed a crime justifying a citizen's arrest, it did not matter to them whether Arbery was guilty or innocent. The McMichaels were motivated to pursue and confront Arbery because of their ignorance, revulsion and suspicion of black men.

As a nation, we should take a hard look at laws that may facilitate or justify racial bias, such as Georgia's "citizen's arrest" and "stand your ground" laws. As citizens, we must continue to confront, protest, and fight against racial bias and stereotyping of black people as criminals who must be detained, arrested, prosecuted and incarcerated at any cost.

Sam Starks is a former public defender and criminal defense attorney who is now a senior attorney with The Cochran Firm Atlanta.