Weeding Out Brutality
Even though I am far from the firestorms of wrongful, hateful actions so painfully evident in the murder of Tyre Nichols in January, I cannot ignore them. I cannot stop feeling both furious and helpless. I cannot stop hearing Tyre’s voice being the only one of calm and reason. I cannot stop knowing that, if not for the irrefutable evidence of body cams and streetpole video, Tyre Nichols’s manner of death might not ever have been brought to light. I cannot stop wondering how many hundreds of similar situations have gone unaccounted for.
As someone who spent enough time (10,000+ calls) in the emergency service trenches, I know this: there is nothing better than a good cop, and I mean that. I also know too well that there is nothing worse than a bad cop. That sentiment extends to others holding the public’s trust to help them in their most fearsome moments, such as firefighters and emergency medical personnel. Happily, most people enter public service imagining it will be interesting, rewarding, maybe even helpful to others. I refuse to believe that very many begin public service with evil in their hearts and minds. It develops over time, and probably as a result of on-going, corrosive internal cultures that (sadly) exist in many places.
Thankfully, most public servants do well at maintaining their ethical values and moral compasses. They abide by the innate mandate to do right because it’s right, not because someone is watching. And there are many good, honorable departments which understand the importance of building and maintaining an internal culture of decency. They guard it like a treasure because they know the public deserves to be able to trust in what they do.
But it is all too easy, especially in large organizations, for pockets of corruption and wrong-doing to evolve. I hate the idea that some people behave only because they might get busted by modern technologies instead of just behaving right. I am thankful for these innovations. At this point, anything to end brutality and atrocity is okay with me.
In my view, one cause of the ugly things that happen out there stems from the code of conduct that many call the Brotherhood. Certain unwritten rules are in play, like it or not. One baseline mandate is to have your partner’s back, no matter what. You back up the people on your team, period. And good luck if you don’t because then you risk “going bare”—that is, finding that no one will step up when you need help. It’s a very lonely feeling, and few last long without that sense of security.
Given the realities of the streets, many emergency responders survive by putting their heads down and just handling their calls. Somehow, they avoid the tough-guy group-talk and manage to avoid putting targets on their own backs. Others quit the work once their altruism is trampled to death. I lament the many who have come into public service with good hearts that ended up either shattered or stilled. It is just a personal theory, but maybe it isn’t just the accumulation of hard, gruesome calls that lead some in emergency care to die by suicide in above-average numbers.
It is absolutely true that emergency scenes can seriously threaten responder safety. It is an inherently dangerous job and things can go wrong for a host of reasons. Training and preparedness inevitably includes knowing how to handle the worst possible scenarios. The need for self-defense is real. Over time, given enough close shaves and a climate of “us versus them,” stuff can happen. Events can feed on themselves, take on a life of their own. Fast-developing, wolf-pack situations yield the sorts of behavior as are so heartbreakingly evident on the videos from Memphis on January 27. The beatings were bad, really bad. Then add in the outrageous sight of so many “brothers” standing around chatting, ignoring Tyre handcuffed and writhing on the ground. Even the first-arriving EMTs failed to lean in and do the most basic care: a primary and secondary survey.
I don’t know exactly how to root out the brutal, the mean-spirited, the racist, the prejudiced, the power-hungry people who are sadly present in every branch of public service. There are union rules, precedent, tradition, seniority, time-in-grade. Like dysfunctional families, many departments look great on the outside, but are rotten within. The public has little way of knowing this. And “those in the know” on the inside who would like to generate change usually have too little seniority, too little authority, too little of the fortitude to pull back the curtains.
Even writing this essay risks blow-back from my own emergency care colleagues. Despite my own direct experience, some will say how dare I call out the power-trips, vigilante attitudes, and swagger that reeks of rotten core values. I support zero-tolerance of heavy-handedness and brutality in all its forms, and also the disrespectful double-speak that is rampant behind departmental doors where outsiders cannot hear it.
Brutality in all its forms is an immense problem. It will require work on many levels, for a long time. As an acquaintance recently said, “reality is a tough editor of our dreams.” I am rooting for the Good Guys, those public servants of every patch and insignia who serve each human with the same respect and dignity as they would their own loved ones. I hope and pray that they can prevail, starting yesterday.