The latest story to support the premise that police officers are dishonest and stupid comes from Canton, Ohio. Ohio officers are required to recertify each year to run a breath-alcohol testing device. During the training course, copies of the exam were made and distributed to some of the officers there, who used the crib sheets while taking their tests. Most are members are of the Ohio State Highway Patrol, although a Canton Township officer was also identified, and has been fired from his department.
It is not my premise that cops are dishonest and stupid. In non-police forums, I spend a lot of time and effort trying to convince people of the opposite, and I think the conduct of most cops supports my argument. But the news doesn't favor stories of cops doing good things. The public has an insatiable craving for knowing how authority figures mess up, giving them ammunition for the next time a cop catches them doing something they're not supposed to. It's too easy to find examples of police misconduct.
This kind of misconduct seems like small potatoes in the grand scheme of things. We don't have an innocent man going to jail, or someone in the hospital after a beating. No one got rich or dead. The drugs are still in the evidence locker. The problem is that the incident gives insight to the character of the people involved, and also to the culture of the organizations they work for.
In-service training courses can be categorized into two groups: stuff that you have to do and endure, and fun. Which group a course will fall into depends on who you're talking to. I hated defensive tactics courses, not because I didn't think they were important, but because they were usually taught by people whose primary objective was to demonstrate they were badder than everyone else. I liked legal updates, but I assumed that nearly everyone else in the room would rather be watching the chrome rust on cars. Some classes are there mainly so that the department can say the cops took and passed them. All of the ghastly stuff in Bloodborne Pathogens can be eliminated if you can get across the necessary information:
- Wear gloves
- Wash your hands
- Clean up icky stuff with a bleach solution
Still, there's a mandate in many states that every public safety officer has to get two to four hours of this every year, and it doesn't change much. Most of the time, breath tester certification is similar. Once in a great while, a new type of machine is brought in or there's a major change to the procedure. But there's nearly always a checklist that had to be followed for each test, and a reasonably bright 10-year-old could do that with no training at all. Overall, it's pretty easy to get cavalier about in-service training requirements.
There is also the critical factor of organizational culture to contend with. For many officers, the biggest sin an in-service instructor can commit is to make a four-hour class four hours long. The first thing many officers will ask the instructor on entering the classroom is "How long is this gonna take? I got some stuff to do." Officers will fill out class rosters with their absent co-workers' names. I taught at one venue where there was a state requirement that a new roster be completed for every hour of the course, to keep people from sneaking out during breaks. I did a head count a few times that day, and the head count never did match the number of names on the roster. I mentioned this to the supervisor to whom I submitted all my forms. He smiled conspiratorially and said, "Don't worry about it."
Getting an advance copy of the test, or knowing that you'll have one when the test is given, removes the need to pay any attention whatsoever. The "student" can try and listen to an iPod, read a magazine, or just look out the window. Some will do this openly so as to show everyone their contempt for the course of instruction, or just the instructor.
When people do this, it demonstrates their attitude toward the job. They will apply themselves only when they have deemed something to be sufficiently important and worthy of their time. The rest of the time, they will not do anything at all, and may even be conspicuous about it. When other officers see this and either follow suit or ignore the behavior, they acknowledge this as part of their organizational culture. Reporting bad behavior is a sin much more grave than doing anything about it, and makes it much easier to justify the same conduct for yourself. It's not even recognized as "bad" behavior, because the dictates of the organizational culture are far more compelling than the agency's official policies.
In this Ohio incident, several officers took advantage of the availability of the test, and others knew of it and did nothing. If they thought about reporting it, they probably feared the potential consequences of becoming a "rat." Whistleblowers depend on the reaction of the authorities they report to. If the authority ignores, minimizes, or–worst of all–is complicit in the behavior and throws the whistleblower to the wolves, it will be a long, long time before anyone comes forward again.
If the OSHP and other agencies employing officers involved in this were to ignore the conduct, they effectively penalize everyone else for doing things right. The offenders get perfect test scores with no effort expended, and people that actually paid attention get passing, but seldom perfect scores, even though they're probably more competent than the others.
Changing an organizational culture is much more difficult than just issuing new policies. It may take a generation or more to accomplish, requires strong, tenacious, and consistent leadership, and will piss off a lot of people who have an interest in keeping things just as they are. But, if policing is ever going to be truly regarded as a profession as opposed to a job that people get when they're too stupid or dishonest to do anything else, it's the only way to make it happen.
