The BBC's reality TV show about the Metropolitan Police Service seems refreshingly free of propaganda. Doubtless the Met provided abundant soundbites, but the producers mercilessly edited these out.
I've watched episodes 2 and 3, and here's what I think. Do let me know your thoughts too, if you wish, by writing a short comment.
Episode Two:
I worry that showing such detail of the murder investigation will give too much away to criminals planning violent attacks, however the programme showed that excellent police work is taking place.
Met detectives catch 9 out of 10 murderers. How good is that?
Many times I've heard people say “The police are useless” but we're good enough to fill the prisons so full that they are forced to release people early.
This sends out the right message to criminals – we are good, and we will catch them.
The sex attacker interview is good, accurately showing what we face during what seems like almost every interview these days: a guilty-looking person murmuring 'No comment' after every question. They say this because they know how the system works, and that they'll receive no greater punishment if they refuse to comply.
I know from experience that they can leave changing their plea from 'not guilty' to 'guilty' until the very day of the trial and the court still won't impose a more penalty for wasting public time and money.
Even the professionalism of the Territorial Support Group has been shown on television, at long last! The TSG receives nothing but criticism from human rights groups, but they are cops doing hard and thankless work. It's the nature of their tasks that nobody will pat them on the back, or even see their work, but it's essential and dangerous.
The TSG seem fearless. Escorting a prisoner through the Notting Hill Carnival, they were faced by groups of gang members who wanted to fight through the officers to reach their captured comrade. But they stayed on track and dealt calmly with the situation.
Episode Three:
Again, there's good police work taking place, and we see that. Borough Commander Richard Tucker is shown as sincere and concerned, despite flak from despairing residents at a public meeting.
He pointed out that we can't pursue thieves on mopeds because we are accountable for the robber's safety. Victims don't want to hear that we have a duty of care towards the criminals – but this is the truth of the risk-averse Britain in which we live.
Unfortunately we didn't see whether Tucker expanded on this point, explaining that it's the culture around us and our legal framework, that forces us to be pink and fluffy. We can't deal with criminals as robustly as we would like. That point really needs to be made.
It's no use criticising the police. If you want change, you must lobby your MP and force a discussion at government level.
The residents didn't understand, and probably weren't told, that a borough commander has no power to influence the way policing is conducted. Even a borough commander is really only a leader of a team, not a policy-maker. Policing is micromanaged from the centre by New Scotland Yard – the likes of Mark Rowley and Sir Bernard.
Two years ago we had neighbourhood teams of five to eight officers. Under Sir Bernard's Local Policing Model, those teams were replaced by one constable and one community support officer. Those two officers are now busy writing newsletters, 'good news stories' for the local newspapers, and updating spreadsheets.
But even so, the BBC programme proves good police work is taking place.
Although the show appears to take a neutral stance, the writers still can't resist every now and again getting in a little dig at the police. For example, the narrator stated that Victor Olisa is 'one of only five black borough commanders.'
Well, there are 32 boroughs, therefore 15% of borough commanders are black. The 2011 census showed that 13.3% of London residents are black. So the Met's 15% is more than representative.
The Met has an online forum on its Intranet, where officers are invited to post their views. In general the comments from officers are negative. The greatest disgust seems to be around Sir Bernard saying, or implying, that officers are racist.
I find it regrettable that the programme gives the impression that response policing is constantly exciting – that every day you're locking people up or trying to resuscitate stab victims. I spent many years working on a response team, and the excitement was infrequent at best.
I'm guessing the film crew has taken two hundred hours of film, from which they've distilled the most thrilling incidents to piece together a one hour programme.
I mean no criticism of the two PCs, Tim and Steph, but this footage of them seems to suggest that policing is all light-hearted chat and laughs.
That simply isn't representative. Coppers are culturally preoccupied with putting the world to rights and discussing how 'The job's fucked' – a stock phrase we use.
It's part of police culture that we spend half our time complaining, and the BBC documentary-makers have clearly chosen their footage carefully to avoid this, instead showing the carefree Tim and Steph cheerfully discussing their dietary habits.
There's no mention of the fact that neither of them have probably had a decent nights sleep for five years. Nor that they never know if/when they will leave work. Nor that their hours and and days are constantly changed at short notice – which happens because the law allows it...because we aren't employees and aren't protected by employment law.
I'm around police officers all the time – I am one – and we never stop talking about the venality of managers, and how the job is in the doldrums. We talk about how the bosses design the inane practices we have to follow, as if they're running some sort of video game, up in their remote Scotland Yard ivory tower. That's the conversation that takes place inside police cars.
Because of it's unrealistically rosy tint, this series is likely to improve recruitment. This is unfortunate because the senior officers can continue to ignore our welfare and careers as long as the cannon fodder keeps coming – the endless queue of willing twenty-somethings, desperate to apply...
“As long as I can remember I always wanted to be a police officer. I can't wait to put on my uniform. Look how shiny my shoes are!”
Senior manager are apparently too busy working on public relations, as we saw in episode one. And what a great job they make of that.
The programme doesn't show the hours we spend each day duplicating paperwork, ticking boxes and adding to spreadsheets. It doesn't show us standing on cordons for hours. It doesn't show our health suffering from the hours we work, or the aggression the organisation expresses towards us.
The cannon fodder won't want to see that, of course. Give those young people a few years however, and they'll be looking for an 'out', like the rest of us.
In general I approve of this television series. The overt propaganda, that the senior management doubtless provided, has been left on the cutting room floor, and we see something of the dichotomy between, on the one hand – the nonsensical and enormously time-wasting system under which we struggle, and, on the other hand – the activity of day-to-day policing, where officers are doing great work.
Two very different things.
I'm a police constable in the Met. Sigh... My new book 'The Accidental Copper' is an exposé of the police state within the police. Twitter @JusticeChaos. Thanks for stopping by x
Tuesday, 7 July 2015
Tuesday, 30 June 2015
Episode 1 of The Met: Muppets and Moomins
I was astonished to find that the new BBC documentary about the Metropolitan Police Service isn't simply unrelenting propaganda. I expected the usual soundbites about how crime is down, there are more officers on the street than ever before blah blah blah...
But it isn't bad. I have mixed feelings about it.
I have no doubt that Sir Bernard and his senior management team attempted to dictate the content, in order to show the Met in the best possible light, but the BBC edited heavily. Let's take a look:
Episode One:
Mark Rowley at a public meeting – I do feel for him: it's hard taking that abuse from people, but also I can't help but feel rather embarrassed at seeing him and his colleagues – our bosses – sitting there like imbeciles, unwilling to stand up for themselves or for us.
They seemed to do nothing but keep avowing: “...we're listening to you and we know we have more work to do...”
Rowley and the others utterly failed to get across to people the crucial point, that if a person gives reason to believe he poses an imminent threat to life, he is likely to be shot.
It's easy to NOT be shot, for goodness sake. You simply don't evade police and you don't carry a gun or threaten violence. Most normal people don't struggle with this.
The critics seemed fixated with the question of how can a person be shot if he isn't holding a gun, which is missing the point.
It isn't about possession of a gun.
For example, if I'm beating a person to death with a rolled-up newspaper, because I can't afford a gun, and the only way to stop me is with a bullet (perhaps I'm on the other side of a fence?), then shooting me is justified if it's the only way to prevent an 'imminent threat to life'.
We heard Rowley make no attempt to respond to the heckling, to defend himself. I would like to think that our managers could at least affirm “We aren't murderers, and we aren't racist.”
But he didn't say that, or at least it wasn't shown.
Instead, these officers, with their crowns and goodness knows what else on their epaulettes, are paid a lot of money for mouthing a tedious litany that they obviously practice, and is probably part of a mandatory online training module for Assistant Commissioners.
Rowley could have tried to explain the reasoning process of armed police, and the framework they work under – that if a person gives us reason to think they pose an imminent threat to life, they are likely to be shot.
As a recipient of the Met's leadership courses, he should know that he needs to allow angry people to sound off, that it's after they've expelled their bile that we can make our points.
The decision that the shooting was lawful, was a verdict by the High Court, not the police. Did Rowley and the others explain that? No.
Even if the Metropolitan Police wanted to alter a court's decision, it wouldn't be able to do that. (Do you remember being taught at school the 'separation of legislature, judiciary and excutive?)
Our most senior managers appeared like a bunch of muppets, laughed at by the public. And when Rowley stood at the door of the High Court reading the Met's statement to the press – I have never seen a person with less presence...
Back in their office at Scotland Yard, it was interesting to observe the normal business of the Commissioner's senior management team. Public relations, unsurprisingly.
You might ask, if they believe their core responsibility is deflecting criticism, why is there so much public dislike and suspicion of the Met Police?
It doesn't seem that they're very good at it?
I'm glad to see that at least one borough commander – Victor Olisa – is a sensitive and respectful leader. He impressed me with his intelligence and sincerity.
I would choose Victor for our next Commissioner.
Sir Bernard comes across as a genuine, personable, and quite thoughtful person, but his monologue about the Met being institutionally racist is confused. He starts by implying that the public are mistaken, and that the term is bandied around with little understanding, but then actually states that the Met IS racist.
Sir Bernard himself seemed confused, saying:
“Society isn't fully representative of the people it's made up of.”
This makes no sense at all.
I believe he's well-intentioned, but certainly seems to have no loyalty to his 39,000 officers, nor to be able to generate intelligent comment or ideas – look at Sir Bernard's solution to the cuts: the Local Policing Model, a reorganisation that two years ago turned policing into an abomination.
The Met is a microcosm of society, therefore it's sadly unavoidable that there is bigotry and prejudice. However, as Steph pointed out to one of the youths, there is a tendency to generalise police officers, as if we are one homogenous mass. We are no more all the same than all office workers are the same.
It's a mistake of lazy thinking, to which all human beings are prone.
However, no matter how low my opinion is of some of Sir Bernard's decisions, during a walking interview with a journalist he was faced with a crime and he acted upon it.
Good work.
Well, Mr Journalist, that's policing. Unlike other folk, we are on duty 24/7, and if we encounter an incident, we are duty bound to deal with it, whether in uniform or not. And that includes the Commissioner. Unlike employees – or journalists – we can never claim that we are outside office hours.
And it's because of that 24/7 obligation that everybody else can sleep safe in their beds.
Sir Bernard has his faults, but let's be fair with him, instead of these constant implications of incompetence dripping from the lips of the media – implications that implicitly extend to the rest of us.
The firearms officers appeared extremely professional and level-headed. Those men and women put themselves at risk of being shot, and at risk of having to pull the trigger, knowing that it will change many people's lives.
They do the job knowing they will have only a split-second to make a decision that will result in years of torture, media attention and possibly imprisonment. They will spend the rest of their lives knowing they've killed a person. They and their families will be under a spotlight forever thereafter.
How many of us would really like to work under that kind of pressure?
Unfortunately, by not showing any of the training the firearms cops undergo, the programme allows viewers to conclude that any of us can carry firearms. Actually all firearms officers undergo at least four solid weeks of intense training, exhausting physically and mentally.
The firearms courses are so stressful that candidates regularly drop out. Some are reduced to tears. Not everybody passes but, having passed, officers continue to be reassessed and trained at least four times a year.
Rounding up, at least the overt propaganda and soundbites have been discarded on the cutting room floor. We're given an inkling of the bizarre activities of the Met's senior management, and some limited insight into what it is to be a police forearms officer.
But I need to see more. Watch this space. Thanks for reading.
But it isn't bad. I have mixed feelings about it.
I have no doubt that Sir Bernard and his senior management team attempted to dictate the content, in order to show the Met in the best possible light, but the BBC edited heavily. Let's take a look:
Episode One:
Mark Rowley at a public meeting – I do feel for him: it's hard taking that abuse from people, but also I can't help but feel rather embarrassed at seeing him and his colleagues – our bosses – sitting there like imbeciles, unwilling to stand up for themselves or for us.
They seemed to do nothing but keep avowing: “...we're listening to you and we know we have more work to do...”
Rowley and the others utterly failed to get across to people the crucial point, that if a person gives reason to believe he poses an imminent threat to life, he is likely to be shot.
It's easy to NOT be shot, for goodness sake. You simply don't evade police and you don't carry a gun or threaten violence. Most normal people don't struggle with this.
The critics seemed fixated with the question of how can a person be shot if he isn't holding a gun, which is missing the point.
It isn't about possession of a gun.
For example, if I'm beating a person to death with a rolled-up newspaper, because I can't afford a gun, and the only way to stop me is with a bullet (perhaps I'm on the other side of a fence?), then shooting me is justified if it's the only way to prevent an 'imminent threat to life'.
We heard Rowley make no attempt to respond to the heckling, to defend himself. I would like to think that our managers could at least affirm “We aren't murderers, and we aren't racist.”
But he didn't say that, or at least it wasn't shown.
Instead, these officers, with their crowns and goodness knows what else on their epaulettes, are paid a lot of money for mouthing a tedious litany that they obviously practice, and is probably part of a mandatory online training module for Assistant Commissioners.
Rowley could have tried to explain the reasoning process of armed police, and the framework they work under – that if a person gives us reason to think they pose an imminent threat to life, they are likely to be shot.
As a recipient of the Met's leadership courses, he should know that he needs to allow angry people to sound off, that it's after they've expelled their bile that we can make our points.
The decision that the shooting was lawful, was a verdict by the High Court, not the police. Did Rowley and the others explain that? No.
Even if the Metropolitan Police wanted to alter a court's decision, it wouldn't be able to do that. (Do you remember being taught at school the 'separation of legislature, judiciary and excutive?)
Our most senior managers appeared like a bunch of muppets, laughed at by the public. And when Rowley stood at the door of the High Court reading the Met's statement to the press – I have never seen a person with less presence...
Back in their office at Scotland Yard, it was interesting to observe the normal business of the Commissioner's senior management team. Public relations, unsurprisingly.
You might ask, if they believe their core responsibility is deflecting criticism, why is there so much public dislike and suspicion of the Met Police?
It doesn't seem that they're very good at it?
I'm glad to see that at least one borough commander – Victor Olisa – is a sensitive and respectful leader. He impressed me with his intelligence and sincerity.
I would choose Victor for our next Commissioner.
Sir Bernard comes across as a genuine, personable, and quite thoughtful person, but his monologue about the Met being institutionally racist is confused. He starts by implying that the public are mistaken, and that the term is bandied around with little understanding, but then actually states that the Met IS racist.
Sir Bernard himself seemed confused, saying:
“Society isn't fully representative of the people it's made up of.”
This makes no sense at all.
I believe he's well-intentioned, but certainly seems to have no loyalty to his 39,000 officers, nor to be able to generate intelligent comment or ideas – look at Sir Bernard's solution to the cuts: the Local Policing Model, a reorganisation that two years ago turned policing into an abomination.
The Met is a microcosm of society, therefore it's sadly unavoidable that there is bigotry and prejudice. However, as Steph pointed out to one of the youths, there is a tendency to generalise police officers, as if we are one homogenous mass. We are no more all the same than all office workers are the same.
It's a mistake of lazy thinking, to which all human beings are prone.
However, no matter how low my opinion is of some of Sir Bernard's decisions, during a walking interview with a journalist he was faced with a crime and he acted upon it.
Good work.
Well, Mr Journalist, that's policing. Unlike other folk, we are on duty 24/7, and if we encounter an incident, we are duty bound to deal with it, whether in uniform or not. And that includes the Commissioner. Unlike employees – or journalists – we can never claim that we are outside office hours.
And it's because of that 24/7 obligation that everybody else can sleep safe in their beds.
Sir Bernard has his faults, but let's be fair with him, instead of these constant implications of incompetence dripping from the lips of the media – implications that implicitly extend to the rest of us.
The firearms officers appeared extremely professional and level-headed. Those men and women put themselves at risk of being shot, and at risk of having to pull the trigger, knowing that it will change many people's lives.
They do the job knowing they will have only a split-second to make a decision that will result in years of torture, media attention and possibly imprisonment. They will spend the rest of their lives knowing they've killed a person. They and their families will be under a spotlight forever thereafter.
How many of us would really like to work under that kind of pressure?
Unfortunately, by not showing any of the training the firearms cops undergo, the programme allows viewers to conclude that any of us can carry firearms. Actually all firearms officers undergo at least four solid weeks of intense training, exhausting physically and mentally.
The firearms courses are so stressful that candidates regularly drop out. Some are reduced to tears. Not everybody passes but, having passed, officers continue to be reassessed and trained at least four times a year.
Rounding up, at least the overt propaganda and soundbites have been discarded on the cutting room floor. We're given an inkling of the bizarre activities of the Met's senior management, and some limited insight into what it is to be a police forearms officer.
But I need to see more. Watch this space. Thanks for reading.
Saturday, 23 May 2015
The Cold Six Thousand
After reading Alex Stewart's poignant piece how can anybody doubt the decay of police management?
The Guardian: Why I quit the thin blue line: a former Met police officer on a service in crisis
And things have deteriorated a good deal since late 2014, when Alex left.
This week I was out on patrol in my borough and my inspector brought me up short. He ordered me to don my high-visibility jacket and cited the current 'Severe' threat assessment. The Metropolitan Police Service currently has a standing policing that constables patrolling on foot must wear these scruffy ill-fitting jackets. They are untidy yellow zip-up sacks that make us resemble dustbin men.
“But guv,” I said, “how will my hi-vis protect me from a gunman?”
“Protect you?” he said. “It's not about you. Nobody gives a fuck about you. This is about reassuring the public. About making them feel there are plenty of coppers around.”
But the terrorists have stated that they want to kill soldiers and police, not members of the public. So, the threat isn't against the public. It's me and my colleagues who need reassuring.
So when the crazy guy is walking around looking for a cop or a soldier to shoot or behead, he'll spot me a mile away. I'll be the sponge soaking up his bullets.
Nobody gives a fuck about you.
That's just it. I've been in this job a long time and have NEVER felt that constables' welfare means anything to local or senior managers. Like many of my colleagues, the heavy kit and sometimes inhuman hours have damaged my health. When I bring this to the attention of my managers, they say:
“Yes, me too. Oh well, if you don't like it you could always stack shelves in a supermarket.”
Lately I've noticed a subtle change – colleagues no longer contemplate the departments where they would enjoy working, but instead try to determine which are the least unpleasant – where they could tolerate working.
It's interesting what Alex says about the inability of the organisation to embrace meaningful improvement, unless the suggestions originate centrally. It's only when senior managers are able to claim credit, that initiatives are supported.
I've experienced this myself and mention it in my book, which will hopefully be published this autumn.
The Met is currently amidst a round of training days for sergeants. The content of them is very telling. After one such day last week I spoke with a sergeant with twenty years of service. He told me:
“There was no training, only browbeating. For the first couple of hours we were criticised mercilessly for our failings. But there are a thousand things we're told we must do perfectly, and there simply aren't the hours in the day.”
“As for the rest of the 'training', we were told that the Met needs to lose six thousand officers to make the necessary savings, and that means replacing experienced people – who are expensive – with brand new probationers – who are cheap.”
“We've been told that from now on we must take every opportunity to put sick or recuperating officers on a disciplinary. With can use any excuse to stick officers on for gross misconduct or unsatisfactory performance.”
“The worse part is the organisation is simply going to start dismissing officers with no reason. They'll be told 'You are leaving on such-and-such a date. Thank you and goodbye.' As we don't have contracts of employment, the law doesn't protect us.”
Personally, I think this is a disgrace and a revelation – an official Met policy of quietly decimating police numbers. An enquiry should be held.
My team already consists of only two experienced constables and six probationers, none of whom have more than six months experience. I spend all my time simply hand-holding the new guys and girls.
They're rushed through training so quickly that many of them barely know how to carry out a respectful and lawful stop-search. The traditional mode of learning – watching and listening to experienced colleagues – almost doesn't now exist.
Theresa May is correct when she states:
“...there is still wasteful spending in policing and that resources are still not linked to demand.”
But her mistake is that she believes these gaps have been partly closed and can be narrowed further. The reality is that over the last couple of years there has been no reduction whatsoever of 'wasteful spending'. Ask any officer and she'll just laugh. Contractors are still charging the Earth for outsourced services.
All that's happened over the last couple of years is that our managers are more frightened than before, and so to protect themselves they have introduced ever greater accountability. Hence more spreadsheets and report-writing.
The application of yet more pressure will only further escalate the very problem that has knifed into the heart of UK policing since the 1990s.
Managers will be more fearful for their jobs and pensions, and so will create more accountability. This will increase pressure around work returns and performance figures. Officers will spend even more time than at present listing how they've spent their time each day.
And spend fewer hours serving the public. So rolls on the ever-downward spiral...
The Guardian: Why I quit the thin blue line: a former Met police officer on a service in crisis
And things have deteriorated a good deal since late 2014, when Alex left.
This week I was out on patrol in my borough and my inspector brought me up short. He ordered me to don my high-visibility jacket and cited the current 'Severe' threat assessment. The Metropolitan Police Service currently has a standing policing that constables patrolling on foot must wear these scruffy ill-fitting jackets. They are untidy yellow zip-up sacks that make us resemble dustbin men.
“But guv,” I said, “how will my hi-vis protect me from a gunman?”
“Protect you?” he said. “It's not about you. Nobody gives a fuck about you. This is about reassuring the public. About making them feel there are plenty of coppers around.”
But the terrorists have stated that they want to kill soldiers and police, not members of the public. So, the threat isn't against the public. It's me and my colleagues who need reassuring.
So when the crazy guy is walking around looking for a cop or a soldier to shoot or behead, he'll spot me a mile away. I'll be the sponge soaking up his bullets.
Nobody gives a fuck about you.
That's just it. I've been in this job a long time and have NEVER felt that constables' welfare means anything to local or senior managers. Like many of my colleagues, the heavy kit and sometimes inhuman hours have damaged my health. When I bring this to the attention of my managers, they say:
“Yes, me too. Oh well, if you don't like it you could always stack shelves in a supermarket.”
Lately I've noticed a subtle change – colleagues no longer contemplate the departments where they would enjoy working, but instead try to determine which are the least unpleasant – where they could tolerate working.
It's interesting what Alex says about the inability of the organisation to embrace meaningful improvement, unless the suggestions originate centrally. It's only when senior managers are able to claim credit, that initiatives are supported.
I've experienced this myself and mention it in my book, which will hopefully be published this autumn.
The Met is currently amidst a round of training days for sergeants. The content of them is very telling. After one such day last week I spoke with a sergeant with twenty years of service. He told me:
“There was no training, only browbeating. For the first couple of hours we were criticised mercilessly for our failings. But there are a thousand things we're told we must do perfectly, and there simply aren't the hours in the day.”
“As for the rest of the 'training', we were told that the Met needs to lose six thousand officers to make the necessary savings, and that means replacing experienced people – who are expensive – with brand new probationers – who are cheap.”
“We've been told that from now on we must take every opportunity to put sick or recuperating officers on a disciplinary. With can use any excuse to stick officers on for gross misconduct or unsatisfactory performance.”
“The worse part is the organisation is simply going to start dismissing officers with no reason. They'll be told 'You are leaving on such-and-such a date. Thank you and goodbye.' As we don't have contracts of employment, the law doesn't protect us.”
Personally, I think this is a disgrace and a revelation – an official Met policy of quietly decimating police numbers. An enquiry should be held.
My team already consists of only two experienced constables and six probationers, none of whom have more than six months experience. I spend all my time simply hand-holding the new guys and girls.
They're rushed through training so quickly that many of them barely know how to carry out a respectful and lawful stop-search. The traditional mode of learning – watching and listening to experienced colleagues – almost doesn't now exist.
Theresa May is correct when she states:
“...there is still wasteful spending in policing and that resources are still not linked to demand.”
But her mistake is that she believes these gaps have been partly closed and can be narrowed further. The reality is that over the last couple of years there has been no reduction whatsoever of 'wasteful spending'. Ask any officer and she'll just laugh. Contractors are still charging the Earth for outsourced services.
All that's happened over the last couple of years is that our managers are more frightened than before, and so to protect themselves they have introduced ever greater accountability. Hence more spreadsheets and report-writing.
The application of yet more pressure will only further escalate the very problem that has knifed into the heart of UK policing since the 1990s.
Managers will be more fearful for their jobs and pensions, and so will create more accountability. This will increase pressure around work returns and performance figures. Officers will spend even more time than at present listing how they've spent their time each day.
And spend fewer hours serving the public. So rolls on the ever-downward spiral...
Monday, 18 May 2015
Boiling Frogs
Today I went to work as normal. I stepped into the lift on the ground floor of the police station, and pressed the button marked '2'. While the lift descended to the basement I admired the generously applied duct-tape holding the wall panels in place.
The door opened, the digital display showed '8' and the voice said 'You are now on the second floor'.
No need to spend money on the infrastructure. Cops can always climb the stairs, right?
When we see a police officer out and about in her clean shiny uniform we tend assume she is a reflection of the modern technological police force, with its police stations gleaming and filled with the latest crime-fighting technology, yes?
Hmm.
It's a appealing fiction.
I've just returned from a week off, which I used for a course. I spent an intense week in a normal office with a dozen non-cops. This is part of my exit plan.
During this week moonlighting in the outside world, what things struck me?
Quite a lot actually.
The absence of urine leaking through the wall from the adjoining gents toilets. That was notable.
I'll get to the facilities later. First let me describe how I felt, briefly sampling a normal lifestyle after years in the Old Bill.
My alarm woke me each morning at a leisurely 7.30am and I was home by 5.30pm. What a contrast to my usual fourteen hour day where I'm either getting up at 4am or getting home at 1am.
By police standards I felt I was working a half-day, and my body clock even began to grow back, like a liver after part of it has been amputated.
By the end of the week I had more energy than I have felt for years. I saw sunlight at both the beginning and end of each day. I experienced regular daylight and my body wanted to get out of bed. It wasn't the usual numb struggle at 4am. I wasn't trying to force heavy uncomfortable pieces of police equipment on to my body. I felt positive about the future. I like a normal human being.
But back to the state of the offices last week, compared with the condition of a typical police station.
The kitchen had running hot water and was clean and tidy. There was a cupboard full of clean mugs, teabags and instant coffee, which we were encouraged to use. The fridge contained amply fresh milk replenished daily, and neither the fridge nor the cupboards were fastened with padlocks. There wasn't a hand-scrawled A4 sheet on the cupboard stating:
"THESE TEABAGS ARE NOT FOR YOU UNLESS YOU PAY INTO THE TEA CLUB!!!"
And a dishwasher for dirty mugs.
A dishwasher, and all of the above is unimaginable in any typical police station. Management spend not a penny on anything that might add to officers' quality of life. They'll consider a change only if it's free. For example I have never seen a water cooler in a police station. Never.
A typical police kitchen lacks mugs, cutlery, kettle, cooker. There isn't even hot water in the kitchen at my station. Food items left in cupboards will quickly disappear, so the cupboards are invariably empty and unused, or padlocked shut. A refrigerator, if it exists, will be unusable because, again, it's locked with a padlock to which nobody has the key.
I once donated six mugs to a police station and within two days they had all disappeared and never returned. One or other occasionally surfaces briefly then vanishes again, presumably into somebody's desk or locker.
Part of the problem is the lack of ownership. Officers work shifts and hot-desk. Apart from a few cubic feet in our lockers, we have no space/desk/drawers to call our own.
The other part of the problem is a completely uninterested management that worries only about the facade presented to the public.
So, back to my recent course. The classroom was filled with comfortable adjustable chairs. By contrast, almost every chair in my police station is broken. None have working height-adjustment and the backs swing freely, providing little support.
The office building, where I undertook this course last week, was nothing special – a run of the mill steel and glass construction renting space out to companies. One of dozens like it in my town.
The cops share the main office in our station with three or four mice. I didn't see any creatures running around under the desks when I was doing my course last week.
I enjoyed spending a week amongst a diverse group of normal people, mostly professionals. What a breath of fresh air – people who aren't browbeaten, who aren't institutionalised to accept any insult, justifying it with a resigned, "At least we're being paid." Cops tend to accept things and get on with the job – they grumble, but don't let anything stop them doing their job.
Probably the worst aspect is the toilets in police stations The cleaners do their best – they work very hard and remain cheerful – but many of the toilet seats are broken, some taps are permanently stuck in the 'on' position and either the paper towel dispensers are empty or the electric blowers are permanently turned off. There's always water pooling on the floor and the surfaces are ancient and discoloured. Cubicle locks don't always work, and there's a heavy reliance upon duct-tape, which at least covers some of the graffiti on the walls.
By contrast the bathrooms last week were clean, elegant and pleasant-smelling. Nothing special – just decent and sanitary.
For five glorious days I was spared having to struggle with the Metropolitan Police Service's computer system: Windows 2003.
Yes. The Met's IT, which is key to all our work, runs on a Windows operating system twelve years old.
Twelve years old.
The main office in my station has three large modern photocopier/printers, all of which are usually non-functioning. Most have been in that state for months. This means I can't print out my pay-slips.
The only police offices I have seen that are fit for humans are New Scotland Yard and Empress State Building – two vast administrative centres for the Metropolitan Police Service – where, naturally, the senior management are based. Try any operational police station and it's a different story – as long as the public sees a professional facade it doesn't matter what the officers have to endure.
It's exhausting sometimes. Nothing seems to function in the Met. I search in the Met's 'Directory' to find a person's internal telephone number and the one given is always wrong. Finding these details can cost me a lot of time but there is no system – no person employed – to maintain the Directory.
I'm reminded of when I worked at the London Olympics in 2012. The temperature was 32C but there was no shelter, no water, no food, nowhere arranged to store our kit. Fortunately the military kindly helped us, but our senior police managers who had been planning this event for eight years, simply didn't think to organise any facilities for us. The International Olympic Committee didn't want police present, so for the first week we were forbidden from even purchasing food or water.
I spoke with a chap recently retired from the RAF. He was involved in organising the military Olympics logistics.
“If your managers had simply asked us to set up a couple of tents for the police, it wouldn't have been a problem at all.”
So why didn't our senior officers ask for this?
My retired friend added, “In the military every officer is constantly reminded, 'You have to look after your people.'”
Whereas in the police...
Last November my male colleagues grew beards for Movember. But when December arrived most of them let the growth continue. Now they all resemble Santa Claus. I almost have the feeling that everybody is in the trenches, hiding behind their beards.
My station is teeming with new recruits and today I asked one why she joined. She said, "Dunno. I just always wanted to be a police officer."
She added, “I've been here only three months, but everybody with a few years in seems to hate it.”
Fodder. Another innocent buying into the mythology. The job relies on the good nature of such people.
Until the queue of these sacrificial victims dries up, the job will continue to treat its constables with complete disregard.
"Give it six months, then you'll understand," I told her.
They say you can boil a frog by warming it gradually.
The door opened, the digital display showed '8' and the voice said 'You are now on the second floor'.
No need to spend money on the infrastructure. Cops can always climb the stairs, right?
When we see a police officer out and about in her clean shiny uniform we tend assume she is a reflection of the modern technological police force, with its police stations gleaming and filled with the latest crime-fighting technology, yes?
Hmm.
It's a appealing fiction.
I've just returned from a week off, which I used for a course. I spent an intense week in a normal office with a dozen non-cops. This is part of my exit plan.
During this week moonlighting in the outside world, what things struck me?
Quite a lot actually.
The absence of urine leaking through the wall from the adjoining gents toilets. That was notable.
I'll get to the facilities later. First let me describe how I felt, briefly sampling a normal lifestyle after years in the Old Bill.
My alarm woke me each morning at a leisurely 7.30am and I was home by 5.30pm. What a contrast to my usual fourteen hour day where I'm either getting up at 4am or getting home at 1am.
By police standards I felt I was working a half-day, and my body clock even began to grow back, like a liver after part of it has been amputated.
By the end of the week I had more energy than I have felt for years. I saw sunlight at both the beginning and end of each day. I experienced regular daylight and my body wanted to get out of bed. It wasn't the usual numb struggle at 4am. I wasn't trying to force heavy uncomfortable pieces of police equipment on to my body. I felt positive about the future. I like a normal human being.
But back to the state of the offices last week, compared with the condition of a typical police station.
The kitchen had running hot water and was clean and tidy. There was a cupboard full of clean mugs, teabags and instant coffee, which we were encouraged to use. The fridge contained amply fresh milk replenished daily, and neither the fridge nor the cupboards were fastened with padlocks. There wasn't a hand-scrawled A4 sheet on the cupboard stating:
"THESE TEABAGS ARE NOT FOR YOU UNLESS YOU PAY INTO THE TEA CLUB!!!"
And a dishwasher for dirty mugs.
A dishwasher, and all of the above is unimaginable in any typical police station. Management spend not a penny on anything that might add to officers' quality of life. They'll consider a change only if it's free. For example I have never seen a water cooler in a police station. Never.
A typical police kitchen lacks mugs, cutlery, kettle, cooker. There isn't even hot water in the kitchen at my station. Food items left in cupboards will quickly disappear, so the cupboards are invariably empty and unused, or padlocked shut. A refrigerator, if it exists, will be unusable because, again, it's locked with a padlock to which nobody has the key.
I once donated six mugs to a police station and within two days they had all disappeared and never returned. One or other occasionally surfaces briefly then vanishes again, presumably into somebody's desk or locker.
Part of the problem is the lack of ownership. Officers work shifts and hot-desk. Apart from a few cubic feet in our lockers, we have no space/desk/drawers to call our own.
The other part of the problem is a completely uninterested management that worries only about the facade presented to the public.
So, back to my recent course. The classroom was filled with comfortable adjustable chairs. By contrast, almost every chair in my police station is broken. None have working height-adjustment and the backs swing freely, providing little support.
The office building, where I undertook this course last week, was nothing special – a run of the mill steel and glass construction renting space out to companies. One of dozens like it in my town.
The cops share the main office in our station with three or four mice. I didn't see any creatures running around under the desks when I was doing my course last week.
I enjoyed spending a week amongst a diverse group of normal people, mostly professionals. What a breath of fresh air – people who aren't browbeaten, who aren't institutionalised to accept any insult, justifying it with a resigned, "At least we're being paid." Cops tend to accept things and get on with the job – they grumble, but don't let anything stop them doing their job.
Probably the worst aspect is the toilets in police stations The cleaners do their best – they work very hard and remain cheerful – but many of the toilet seats are broken, some taps are permanently stuck in the 'on' position and either the paper towel dispensers are empty or the electric blowers are permanently turned off. There's always water pooling on the floor and the surfaces are ancient and discoloured. Cubicle locks don't always work, and there's a heavy reliance upon duct-tape, which at least covers some of the graffiti on the walls.
By contrast the bathrooms last week were clean, elegant and pleasant-smelling. Nothing special – just decent and sanitary.
For five glorious days I was spared having to struggle with the Metropolitan Police Service's computer system: Windows 2003.
Yes. The Met's IT, which is key to all our work, runs on a Windows operating system twelve years old.
Twelve years old.
The main office in my station has three large modern photocopier/printers, all of which are usually non-functioning. Most have been in that state for months. This means I can't print out my pay-slips.
The only police offices I have seen that are fit for humans are New Scotland Yard and Empress State Building – two vast administrative centres for the Metropolitan Police Service – where, naturally, the senior management are based. Try any operational police station and it's a different story – as long as the public sees a professional facade it doesn't matter what the officers have to endure.
It's exhausting sometimes. Nothing seems to function in the Met. I search in the Met's 'Directory' to find a person's internal telephone number and the one given is always wrong. Finding these details can cost me a lot of time but there is no system – no person employed – to maintain the Directory.
I'm reminded of when I worked at the London Olympics in 2012. The temperature was 32C but there was no shelter, no water, no food, nowhere arranged to store our kit. Fortunately the military kindly helped us, but our senior police managers who had been planning this event for eight years, simply didn't think to organise any facilities for us. The International Olympic Committee didn't want police present, so for the first week we were forbidden from even purchasing food or water.
I spoke with a chap recently retired from the RAF. He was involved in organising the military Olympics logistics.
“If your managers had simply asked us to set up a couple of tents for the police, it wouldn't have been a problem at all.”
So why didn't our senior officers ask for this?
My retired friend added, “In the military every officer is constantly reminded, 'You have to look after your people.'”
Whereas in the police...
Last November my male colleagues grew beards for Movember. But when December arrived most of them let the growth continue. Now they all resemble Santa Claus. I almost have the feeling that everybody is in the trenches, hiding behind their beards.
My station is teeming with new recruits and today I asked one why she joined. She said, "Dunno. I just always wanted to be a police officer."
She added, “I've been here only three months, but everybody with a few years in seems to hate it.”
Fodder. Another innocent buying into the mythology. The job relies on the good nature of such people.
Until the queue of these sacrificial victims dries up, the job will continue to treat its constables with complete disregard.
"Give it six months, then you'll understand," I told her.
They say you can boil a frog by warming it gradually.
Wednesday, 25 March 2015
Sir, Can I Please Blow My Nose?
These days police officers can't blow their noses without authority
from an inspector or chief inspector. The micromanagement continues and
the Metropolitan Police senior officers go on rewriting the rules as if
they think the law doesn't apply to them.
They're like bonobos in a cage - throwing their excrement at one another.
There's currently a serious problem with the decision to grant bail to a suspect. Let me explain.
After a person has been arrested and interviewed she will probably enjoy a custody meal – perhaps a delicious gluten-free chicken korma or a low salt all-day breakfast, usually accompanied by a cup of tea containing three or four spoonfuls of sugar.
Then, one of several things will happen. If there is outstanding evidence to be collected (CCTV, statements, phone records, bird entrails consulted), the suspect should normally be released on police bail. This means that she is given a date to return to the police station three or four weeks in the future, during which time the investigator will have hopefully obtained all the remaining evidence.
After the interview the custody sergeant can decide to keep the suspect in custody during the rest of the investigation. The sergeant has to believe there's good reason, for example, that the suspect has a history of threatening witnesses.
The Police and Criminal Evidence Act (PACE) and the Bail Act designate the custody officer (usually a sergeant) as the person who makes this decision. Not the inspector, not even the Commissioner on a day when he's eaten three shredded wheat can overrule the custody sergeant.
If the suspect is bailed and there's still outstanding evidence when the suspect returns, she can be bailed again. ('Rebailed').
This bail/remand decision used to lie within the auspice of the custody sergeant – the officer who meets every prisoner, evaluates her welfare issues and learns the nature of the criminal allegation.
Since a few months ago however, senior officers have decided to ignore the Bail Act and PACE.
The bonobos in the board rooms of New Scotland Yard took it upon themselves to decide that a suspect cannot now be bailed without an inspector's authority.
Seriously do these dudes just make it up as they go along?
This is unlawful because it's contrary to PACE and the Bail Act. Bail/no-bail is a decision for the custody officer only. Keeping a person in custody cannot be legally justified if the custody officer has made the decision to bail.
It's also completely impractical. During a night shift it might be impossible to find an inspector. They are very busy people and not usually very approachable. Running around trying to find an inspector is one more hoop to leap through, in addition to the hundred an officer already has.
And if evidence that might take weeks to collect is outstanding, and there is no clear justification for keep the person locked up, shouldn't the prisoner be released? It's ethical and it's what the law tells us to do.
Charging someone quickly is thought to be good for the performance figures and the bonobos believe that the only way to achieve this is by making it difficult for officers to grant bail.
Instead of creating resistance, they could have decided to make it easier to charge prisoners – to actually assist constables by providing resources: perhaps detectives to help uniformed officers with their investigations.
But no. As usual the carrot wasn't offered. It's all about the stick.
This isn't the first time that Met police bosses officers have created unlawful policy. For example they are still trying to pressure constables to arrest at domestics, insisting that we MUST arrest because there is a 'positive arrest policy'.
There is no such thing and there never has been. The original ACPO policy was for 'positive action', i.e. separating the two parties. 'Positive arrest' and 'positive action' - similar wordings. The bonobos believe that if they say it quickly enough the constables won't notice the difference.
So, back to bail and this policy of pressuring constables to charge. Suspects are now being charged in a panic before the investigating officer has obtained all the evidence and concluded his investigation.
The problem here is that (1) suspects are being tried in court without all the evidence available, (2) some of that evidence might exonerate the suspect, and (3) again this is unlawful.
PACE states that charging (or issuing a ticket, caution or unconditional release) must take place AFTER all the evidence has been gathered and considered.
Ahh, the obsession with centralising control.
It's only a matter of time until this bail policy is the subject of a civil court case against the Met. I look forward to that.
They're like bonobos in a cage - throwing their excrement at one another.
There's currently a serious problem with the decision to grant bail to a suspect. Let me explain.
After a person has been arrested and interviewed she will probably enjoy a custody meal – perhaps a delicious gluten-free chicken korma or a low salt all-day breakfast, usually accompanied by a cup of tea containing three or four spoonfuls of sugar.
Then, one of several things will happen. If there is outstanding evidence to be collected (CCTV, statements, phone records, bird entrails consulted), the suspect should normally be released on police bail. This means that she is given a date to return to the police station three or four weeks in the future, during which time the investigator will have hopefully obtained all the remaining evidence.
After the interview the custody sergeant can decide to keep the suspect in custody during the rest of the investigation. The sergeant has to believe there's good reason, for example, that the suspect has a history of threatening witnesses.
The Police and Criminal Evidence Act (PACE) and the Bail Act designate the custody officer (usually a sergeant) as the person who makes this decision. Not the inspector, not even the Commissioner on a day when he's eaten three shredded wheat can overrule the custody sergeant.
If the suspect is bailed and there's still outstanding evidence when the suspect returns, she can be bailed again. ('Rebailed').
This bail/remand decision used to lie within the auspice of the custody sergeant – the officer who meets every prisoner, evaluates her welfare issues and learns the nature of the criminal allegation.
Since a few months ago however, senior officers have decided to ignore the Bail Act and PACE.
The bonobos in the board rooms of New Scotland Yard took it upon themselves to decide that a suspect cannot now be bailed without an inspector's authority.
Seriously do these dudes just make it up as they go along?
This is unlawful because it's contrary to PACE and the Bail Act. Bail/no-bail is a decision for the custody officer only. Keeping a person in custody cannot be legally justified if the custody officer has made the decision to bail.
It's also completely impractical. During a night shift it might be impossible to find an inspector. They are very busy people and not usually very approachable. Running around trying to find an inspector is one more hoop to leap through, in addition to the hundred an officer already has.
And if evidence that might take weeks to collect is outstanding, and there is no clear justification for keep the person locked up, shouldn't the prisoner be released? It's ethical and it's what the law tells us to do.
Charging someone quickly is thought to be good for the performance figures and the bonobos believe that the only way to achieve this is by making it difficult for officers to grant bail.
Instead of creating resistance, they could have decided to make it easier to charge prisoners – to actually assist constables by providing resources: perhaps detectives to help uniformed officers with their investigations.
But no. As usual the carrot wasn't offered. It's all about the stick.
This isn't the first time that Met police bosses officers have created unlawful policy. For example they are still trying to pressure constables to arrest at domestics, insisting that we MUST arrest because there is a 'positive arrest policy'.
There is no such thing and there never has been. The original ACPO policy was for 'positive action', i.e. separating the two parties. 'Positive arrest' and 'positive action' - similar wordings. The bonobos believe that if they say it quickly enough the constables won't notice the difference.
So, back to bail and this policy of pressuring constables to charge. Suspects are now being charged in a panic before the investigating officer has obtained all the evidence and concluded his investigation.
The problem here is that (1) suspects are being tried in court without all the evidence available, (2) some of that evidence might exonerate the suspect, and (3) again this is unlawful.
PACE states that charging (or issuing a ticket, caution or unconditional release) must take place AFTER all the evidence has been gathered and considered.
Ahh, the obsession with centralising control.
It's only a matter of time until this bail policy is the subject of a civil court case against the Met. I look forward to that.
Monday, 23 February 2015
Change The Light Bulbs
During a recent training day I was given a three hour input on 'customer satisfaction'.
Apparently the senior managers have noticed that the Metropolitan Police Service is the worst in the country for customer approval. No great surprise.
The people who were contacted by the Public Attitude Survey told the pollsters that it often isn't what police officers say, but how it's said that upsets people. People will report a crime and sometimes the officer taking the report will say something like “You'll be ripped apart in court.”
Another common complaint is that officers don't regularly update the victims.
We all know that people remember when things go wrong, not when they go right. I'm not excusing it, but I understand why some officers might casually say things that upset victims – we are under pressure and harassed by our sergeants and inspectors for performance figures.
Also our perspective of the job is the mechanics of investigating the crime. For us it's a process – a flowchart of activities to carry out before the crime can be closed down. A detective might have forty crimes that she's working on simultaneously. Updating every victim weekly would mean forty ten minute conversations. How can the officers therefore keep every victim regularly updated?
People need to have reasonable expectations. A weekly update isn't going to always be possible.
Anyway, I'm off-track already. So the Met senior management have decided that this three hour teaching package is the answer. This will solve the problem and turn every conversation with the public into a positive experience for them.
The point made was that retail businesses can do it, so why can't cops? (I don't mean to undermine every officer who, like me, strives to spread a little joy during the day. There are plenty of us, but apparently the Met senior management expects perfection).
Well, John Lewis is a bit different from the police service.
John Lewis and Waitrose are renowned for enthusiastic and helpful staff. If you ask the employees (who are all also partners in the business) about their jobs, as I have done, they embrace the organisation. They are treated well and know it.
Thing are a little different in the police.
On my first day in the Met my new supervisors weren't expecting me, I wasn't given a locker and waited weeks for my kit to appear. I had to find my own locker and organise my own access to the computer systems. There was no guidance, no instruction, no induction, no tour of the building, no explanation of Met systems or policies. I wasn't introduced to my inspector, borough commander or any other bosses.
In short, the organisation didn't give a shit.
I met my new team-mates and they looked after me. But no representative of the Metropolitan Police took any responsibility for settling me in.
That's one example, but the point is that in the police you are tacitly made to understand from day one that your welfare means nothing at all to the organisation. This message is hammered into you again and again.
You're a pair of hands. Nothing more.
Quite different from John Lewis.
There's also something else. Police culture has an innate meanness about it. You're often treated by supervisors with suspicion or contempt. It's unpleasant at times, and difficult for a normal, intelligent or sensitive person to accept. And I'm not referring to dealing with the offenders, but the way you can be treated by sergeants and inspectors – your own colleagues.
The dysfunctionality of the system means that you are continually banging your head against brick walls. Any time you need something from somebody, there are always unnecessary obstacles.
There's a feeling of defeat that you have to overcome every day, just to keep going.
Not great.
My point is this: with this context – so different from John Lewis – how can we easily spread joy to the public? Every officer could certainly be positive, energetic and giving of themselves towards the public...if they felt some regard from their employer other than pure contempt.
And I'm not referring to the changes made during the last few years – Tom Winsor's retrospective changes to police pensions, the cuts, the calamitous Local Policing Model, and so forth.
The friction and exhaustion from simply trying to do your job, has been the case for decades both after and prior to Winsor's reforms.
The police service contains officers with a range of personalities, and friendliness doesn't flow naturally from everyone. But there are simple techniques officers could be taught, to avoid complaints.
However, a few hours of teaching 'customer service' won't remedy the problem. We need a total change of culture. We need the constables to start to feel that their careers and and welfare actually matter to the organisation.
Such a change would have to originate with the Commissioner, because a manager is more likely to treat his subordinates with concern and respect if he feels the same positive regard emanating down from his own boss.
I know it will never happen, but I say it anyway. If only to undermine the ineffectiveness of thinking that the poor customer service problem will be solved by merely making constables watch a Powerpoint.
I'm reminded of a friend telling me about a company she worked for. Morale was extremely low because of the management culture – the supervisors were perceived as idle, feathering their nests and benefiting from the hard work of their subordinates.
Staff were leaving in droves, and so the senior management discussed the problem with Human Resources.
HR interviewed employees and looked around the building. They decided that people were leaving because there wasn't enough light.
They changed the light bulbs.
Apparently the senior managers have noticed that the Metropolitan Police Service is the worst in the country for customer approval. No great surprise.
The people who were contacted by the Public Attitude Survey told the pollsters that it often isn't what police officers say, but how it's said that upsets people. People will report a crime and sometimes the officer taking the report will say something like “You'll be ripped apart in court.”
Another common complaint is that officers don't regularly update the victims.
We all know that people remember when things go wrong, not when they go right. I'm not excusing it, but I understand why some officers might casually say things that upset victims – we are under pressure and harassed by our sergeants and inspectors for performance figures.
Also our perspective of the job is the mechanics of investigating the crime. For us it's a process – a flowchart of activities to carry out before the crime can be closed down. A detective might have forty crimes that she's working on simultaneously. Updating every victim weekly would mean forty ten minute conversations. How can the officers therefore keep every victim regularly updated?
People need to have reasonable expectations. A weekly update isn't going to always be possible.
Anyway, I'm off-track already. So the Met senior management have decided that this three hour teaching package is the answer. This will solve the problem and turn every conversation with the public into a positive experience for them.
The point made was that retail businesses can do it, so why can't cops? (I don't mean to undermine every officer who, like me, strives to spread a little joy during the day. There are plenty of us, but apparently the Met senior management expects perfection).
Well, John Lewis is a bit different from the police service.
John Lewis and Waitrose are renowned for enthusiastic and helpful staff. If you ask the employees (who are all also partners in the business) about their jobs, as I have done, they embrace the organisation. They are treated well and know it.
Thing are a little different in the police.
On my first day in the Met my new supervisors weren't expecting me, I wasn't given a locker and waited weeks for my kit to appear. I had to find my own locker and organise my own access to the computer systems. There was no guidance, no instruction, no induction, no tour of the building, no explanation of Met systems or policies. I wasn't introduced to my inspector, borough commander or any other bosses.
In short, the organisation didn't give a shit.
I met my new team-mates and they looked after me. But no representative of the Metropolitan Police took any responsibility for settling me in.
That's one example, but the point is that in the police you are tacitly made to understand from day one that your welfare means nothing at all to the organisation. This message is hammered into you again and again.
You're a pair of hands. Nothing more.
Quite different from John Lewis.
There's also something else. Police culture has an innate meanness about it. You're often treated by supervisors with suspicion or contempt. It's unpleasant at times, and difficult for a normal, intelligent or sensitive person to accept. And I'm not referring to dealing with the offenders, but the way you can be treated by sergeants and inspectors – your own colleagues.
The dysfunctionality of the system means that you are continually banging your head against brick walls. Any time you need something from somebody, there are always unnecessary obstacles.
There's a feeling of defeat that you have to overcome every day, just to keep going.
Not great.
My point is this: with this context – so different from John Lewis – how can we easily spread joy to the public? Every officer could certainly be positive, energetic and giving of themselves towards the public...if they felt some regard from their employer other than pure contempt.
And I'm not referring to the changes made during the last few years – Tom Winsor's retrospective changes to police pensions, the cuts, the calamitous Local Policing Model, and so forth.
The friction and exhaustion from simply trying to do your job, has been the case for decades both after and prior to Winsor's reforms.
The police service contains officers with a range of personalities, and friendliness doesn't flow naturally from everyone. But there are simple techniques officers could be taught, to avoid complaints.
However, a few hours of teaching 'customer service' won't remedy the problem. We need a total change of culture. We need the constables to start to feel that their careers and and welfare actually matter to the organisation.
Such a change would have to originate with the Commissioner, because a manager is more likely to treat his subordinates with concern and respect if he feels the same positive regard emanating down from his own boss.
I know it will never happen, but I say it anyway. If only to undermine the ineffectiveness of thinking that the poor customer service problem will be solved by merely making constables watch a Powerpoint.
I'm reminded of a friend telling me about a company she worked for. Morale was extremely low because of the management culture – the supervisors were perceived as idle, feathering their nests and benefiting from the hard work of their subordinates.
Staff were leaving in droves, and so the senior management discussed the problem with Human Resources.
HR interviewed employees and looked around the building. They decided that people were leaving because there wasn't enough light.
They changed the light bulbs.
Thursday, 12 February 2015
A New Year – Moving Forward With The Metropolitan Police
I've been running this blog nearly a year and a half and we're now well into 2015. It's probably time for a recap and to remember where we're trying to go with this. Perhaps even to work up a statement of basic goals. This post is a bit miscellaneous, with a kind of list of points.
My motivation: within two weeks of probation I realised the job was nothing like the fiction that was peddled to me in the promotional literature. Instead of catching bad guys it was all about targets; all about managers hounding you for performance figures, using the public like a resource to hit their targets.
The tail wagging the dog. I found that constables had the lowest imaginable status in the organisation, lower than the most junior clerk.
I'm in the Metropolitan Police Service and the management of this shambolic force is riddled with broken thinking. The problems don't start between the inspectors' and chief inspectors' ears, but those guys certainly buy into the target-chasing and all the rest of the lazy management techniques.
We all need to keep working to raise awareness of the dysfunctionality that saturates the UK police service.
I applaud the awareness-raising work of passionate people like Tony Munday at Police Choice (Police Choice), working to reform the system.
My aim is to serve you – to serve the community of people who care about policing.
When you read a post, please do leave a comment, good or bad. Blogger doesn't allow me to respond, but I'm trying to work around that. As soon as I can, I'll get back to you.
If you want more of something – more facts, less whining, or whatever – do let me know, and message me with any suggestions.
When I write I assume you probably aren't a copper, and so try to show you the reality behind the soundbites and journalistic speculation. I hope I hit the right level of detail. I don't tell you everything, because that would tend towards unreadability. So there is simplification involved, but the facts are there.
As for tone, the distressing state of the police service and the management thinking, in particular the Local Policing Model, makes me very angry indeed. You are probably angry too, and that's why you are reading my blog.
I want a really effective criminal justice system – we're paying £3billion a year for it, so let's start asking for one. And let's keep on asking until our government starts to listen.
I want a criminal justice system that functions properly, instead of decisions made on the basis of optimising managers' promotion prospects and protecting them from criticism.
We need a happier organisation, with trust, good regard and loyalty between the managers and the constables.
How about the officers' careers and welfare featuring somewhere on the force's list of priorities? Will managers please stop mistreating them simply because you can – because they aren't protected by employment law and can't withdraw their labour. Better morale will feed into a better service for the public.
I want a better career for my colleagues and myself, but also for the public (which includes all cops).
The spirit of policing in the UK is hideously perverted by a management whose management decisions seem to be dictated solely by their desire to protect themselves from criticism and gain promotion.
It is never my intention to criticise the rank-and-file officers, who tend to be normal folk doing a difficult job. They are working to pay their mortgages, and trying to make the job work as best they can, despite the barriers put in their way.
My commitment to you for 2015 is that I will keep blogging and updating you with relevant information that enters my awareness. I don't always have the most interesting or well-written material, but I'll do my best.
I really think we can eventually remedy this disgraceful state of affairs, but it has to start with full awareness of the true picture. It needs a public with their eyes fully open – which is where bloggers come in. Not only me, but the many other wonderful police bloggers.
If we persist we can cause a gradual evolution of attitude. We've seen this already, in that the public distrust claims that targets have been banished.
I hope that it won't take a national disaster to prove the full extent of the travesty. If something happens, for example a plague like several we have narrowly averted during recent years - such as bird flu - what if we can't adequately respond because we're too busy ticking boxes and chasing targets?
History shows that it will happen. Commissioners' knighthoods won't protect them from fatal viruses.
Let's stop the senior officers from treating British policing like it's their own personal play thing.
Here are some goals we might try to work towards:
Here's to the next year, which will hopefully see more eyes opened, and will I'm sure yield more amusing yet sadly predictable police mismanagement.
And thank you so much for your support since August 2013.
Together perhaps we can save the criminal justice system, one blog post at a time...
– Justice and Chaos
My motivation: within two weeks of probation I realised the job was nothing like the fiction that was peddled to me in the promotional literature. Instead of catching bad guys it was all about targets; all about managers hounding you for performance figures, using the public like a resource to hit their targets.
The tail wagging the dog. I found that constables had the lowest imaginable status in the organisation, lower than the most junior clerk.
I'm in the Metropolitan Police Service and the management of this shambolic force is riddled with broken thinking. The problems don't start between the inspectors' and chief inspectors' ears, but those guys certainly buy into the target-chasing and all the rest of the lazy management techniques.
We all need to keep working to raise awareness of the dysfunctionality that saturates the UK police service.
I applaud the awareness-raising work of passionate people like Tony Munday at Police Choice (Police Choice), working to reform the system.
My aim is to serve you – to serve the community of people who care about policing.
When you read a post, please do leave a comment, good or bad. Blogger doesn't allow me to respond, but I'm trying to work around that. As soon as I can, I'll get back to you.
If you want more of something – more facts, less whining, or whatever – do let me know, and message me with any suggestions.
When I write I assume you probably aren't a copper, and so try to show you the reality behind the soundbites and journalistic speculation. I hope I hit the right level of detail. I don't tell you everything, because that would tend towards unreadability. So there is simplification involved, but the facts are there.
As for tone, the distressing state of the police service and the management thinking, in particular the Local Policing Model, makes me very angry indeed. You are probably angry too, and that's why you are reading my blog.
I want a really effective criminal justice system – we're paying £3billion a year for it, so let's start asking for one. And let's keep on asking until our government starts to listen.
I want a criminal justice system that functions properly, instead of decisions made on the basis of optimising managers' promotion prospects and protecting them from criticism.
We need a happier organisation, with trust, good regard and loyalty between the managers and the constables.
How about the officers' careers and welfare featuring somewhere on the force's list of priorities? Will managers please stop mistreating them simply because you can – because they aren't protected by employment law and can't withdraw their labour. Better morale will feed into a better service for the public.
I want a better career for my colleagues and myself, but also for the public (which includes all cops).
The spirit of policing in the UK is hideously perverted by a management whose management decisions seem to be dictated solely by their desire to protect themselves from criticism and gain promotion.
It is never my intention to criticise the rank-and-file officers, who tend to be normal folk doing a difficult job. They are working to pay their mortgages, and trying to make the job work as best they can, despite the barriers put in their way.
My commitment to you for 2015 is that I will keep blogging and updating you with relevant information that enters my awareness. I don't always have the most interesting or well-written material, but I'll do my best.
I really think we can eventually remedy this disgraceful state of affairs, but it has to start with full awareness of the true picture. It needs a public with their eyes fully open – which is where bloggers come in. Not only me, but the many other wonderful police bloggers.
If we persist we can cause a gradual evolution of attitude. We've seen this already, in that the public distrust claims that targets have been banished.
I hope that it won't take a national disaster to prove the full extent of the travesty. If something happens, for example a plague like several we have narrowly averted during recent years - such as bird flu - what if we can't adequately respond because we're too busy ticking boxes and chasing targets?
History shows that it will happen. Commissioners' knighthoods won't protect them from fatal viruses.
Let's stop the senior officers from treating British policing like it's their own personal play thing.
Here are some goals we might try to work towards:
- The creation of a government committee working on a plan to reboot the UK police. Such a committee must include experienced serving constables.
- Legally-sanctioned media access to constables without fear of disciplinary proceedings against those officers. At present no journalist can speak with a constable without exposing that constable to threat of dismissal. Sir Bernard has clamped down on journalists' access to cops - what is he afraid we'll say?
- A government investigation into police promotion methodology (inspector rank and upwards) and a programme to redesign the promotion process.
- Explicit inclusion of officers' careers and welfare in force policies.
Here's to the next year, which will hopefully see more eyes opened, and will I'm sure yield more amusing yet sadly predictable police mismanagement.
And thank you so much for your support since August 2013.
Together perhaps we can save the criminal justice system, one blog post at a time...
– Justice and Chaos
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