Beyond Ethics: The Case for Compassionate Policing

This is a reprint of an article originally published in The Police Chief Magazine, October, 1999.  It has since been cited in police textbooks, recognized by national criminal justice institutions and has been adopted as reading material in leadership coursework by Arizona POST.  It is my pleasure to reprint it here.

Beyond Ethics:  The Case for Compassionate Policing

Copyright © 2014 MJ Miller

The byword of policing in the '90s has been "ethics."  Departments nationwide have incorporated multi-tiered ethics programs, the best of the country's law enforcement speakers and administrators have delivered speeches relating to every aspect of ethics and top educational institutions have offered courses involving ethical decision making.  It seems readily apparent that, despite the challenges continually faced by American police agencies, the mantra of "ethics in policing" has been eagerly embraced by most officers and administrators.  Who can resist the charm of a word embodying logic, rationality and -- most of all -- "the right thing to do?"

Yet concentrating solely on ethical actions creates a lopsided equation. One can be ethical without being compassionate.

Community policing has laid the groundwork for a generation of officers motivated by compassion as well as ethics -- by a commitment to good works as much as to good work.  Agencies have learned to be truly responsive to communities, to consider the "big picture" and to avoid being statistic-driven in enforcement goals.  The next step in delivering quality service is to put heart back into policing in those places where it currently does not exist.

Few people are so privileged in their jobs as to be able to do a tremendous amount of good with relative ease.  Law enforcement officers often fail to recognize the power they have in this regard.  They often reason they are saving lives or preventing crushing property loss by taking enforcement action, yet don't realize the incredible difference they may make by simply treating people with kindness.  An officer who stops a motorist for an equipment violation, for example, seldom considers that a simple traffic stop is stressful for the average citizen, that a citation is at the very least an inconvenience -- if not a severe burden -- and overall, it is relatively high on the list of negative experiences.  Yet a motorist stopped for the same violation -- who is advised on the practical need for correcting the problem and released with a sincere and courteous warning -- actually comes out of the experience more positively than the first.  An officer who writes numerous citations in one shift can seldom appreciate the impact his actions may have on the individual driver who might be stopped once in five years time.

Similarly, officers often overlook the trauma an arrest causes the average person.  It's reasonable to elect a significant amount of arrestees to act badly during arrests, whether it entails crying and screaming or resisting and assaulting.  Officers are well trained to respond to resistance and assault, but seldom give a thought to the tears, screams or fears of the persons they are arresting.  Occasionally, offenders commit suicide in their jail cells or even after release -- a testament to the serious impact an arrest may have on some individuals.  Ironically, law enforcement makes good-faith efforts at suicide intervention, yet often has only a casual relationship with the concept of suicide prevention.  A measure of simple compassion -- such as validation of emotions or a word of reassurance during the drive to the station -- can make a great difference in an arrestee's emotional state and can often influence their behavioral state as well.

Administrations often describe this as "respecting the dignity of the individual."  It is one of many values that can be lumped together under "compassion."  Officers need not avoid citations or arrests in order to exercise compassion; it is often enough to merely communicate on a personal level or to speak in a soothing tone.  None of these suggestions conflict with the concept of enforcement, but rather supplement it -- just as problem-oriented policing strategies serve as supplements, not substitutes, for traditional enforcement action.

We fail our officers by encouraging them to harden themselves against emotion.  We have a misguided perception that tougher officers survive better emotionally than those who may be troubled by the tragedy of the streets.  I believe officers who can make an emotional connection to citizens and can empathize with rough situations are mentally more durable than those who steel themselves against any hint of emotion.  Repressed emotion -- whether anger or sorrow -- is stressful.

Rather than advise our officers to avoid personal involvement in their cases, we should advise them to get involved.  Once, while a patrol watch commander, I had one of our best officers stop by my office and say, "I think I'm too compassionate to be an officer."  He had dealt with a troubled teenager that day, and wondered if it was "abnormal" that he wanted to call and check on her a few days later.  Patrol officers are so often exposed to citizens in severe crisis, and never get to see the success stories -- or fully contribute to them.  An officer who takes the extra initiative to call a victim weeks later may benefit from hearing that things are working out. He may begin to appreciate that crisis and tragedy are not the only constants in the world.

A friend who retired after 25 years in law enforcement used to bemoan a fundamental dichotomy in policing:  we hire kind young folks, train them to be highly professional, authoritarian machines, and send them out into the world without looking after their idealism.  Supervisors and managers often impatiently think that these attitudes are naive, but we forget the many ways, both small and large, in which we can change a life or a series of lives.

There is a Ray Bradbury story about a time traveler who steps off the authorized path and does nothing more than squash a butterfly.  When he returns to his own world, it has changed dramatically and frighteningly because of this small action.  We may well be the travelers who change the world every day, not through the mass murderer we arrest once in a career, but through the butterflies we thoughtlessly crush during our day-to-day contacts.

I urge police administrators to encourage officers to reach beyond ethics to embrace compassion in their work.  For their own survival, as well as the greater good of the community, we need to watch for the butterflies at our feet.


Copyright © 2014 MJ Miller.  All rights reserved.  No part of this article may be reproduced, in whole or in part, without the express permission of the author.  Links to this page, however, may be freely shared.  Thank you for linking, liking, forwarding, emailing, +1'ing and otherwise helping grow my readership.