Everyone present loves these moments. Senior cops get to burnish their statistics; local politicians get their pictures on regional news, proudly declaring that “a blow has been struck in the War on Drugs”—and time-pressed journalists know that large quantities of drugs always generate online clicks. These events are also perfect fodder for the social media teams that have become a fixture at every police and sheriff’s department.

This sort of drugs-on-the-table photo-op policing is part of a tradition that stretches all the way back to alcohol Prohibition in the 1920s. Detectives would make sure that reporters were tipped off about a bust in advance, ready to get the magic shot of the grinning cops smashing the whiskey barrels with pick-axes.

This is what we have been trained to think successful policing looks like.

The problem is that not only is this kind of photo-op policing based on a toxic lie—it is also a contradiction of the most basic, foundational principles of what law enforcement is actually meant to be.

Police in Texas. Image via Facebook

A Violation of Ethics and Common Sense

The world’s first modern, professionalized police force was founded in Britain by Sir Robert Peel in 1829. Peel laid out nine foundational principles designed to separate the new professional force from the arbitrary, haphazard law enforcement of the past.

The Peelian Principles—with their insistence that all policing be undertaken with the consent of those policed, and free of political bias—are to this day the essential model on which almost every democratic nation has founded and developed its own law enforcement services. They are what separates free countries from police states, and one of the great democratic contributions to world civilization.

The essential problem comes when we hit Principle 9: “the test of police efficiency is the absence of crime and disorder, and not the visible evidence of police action in dealing with them.”

There’s a dirty secret that every cop in that room knows.

Now, think back to that photo-op scene with the drugs on the table and the cameras flashing. There’s a dirty secret that every cop in that room knows.

No matter how many bags of drugs are piled on the table, the drug supply is never actually interrupted. Ever.

Every cop, if they are being honest, admits this. Their seizures, no matter how impressive they look for the cameras, make absolutely no difference to the actual supply of drugs. All they are doing is showing evidence of activity—any activity—not reducing crime.

This truth is now becoming so obvious that it is even being admitted publicly by high-level law enforcement. This week, Vince O’Brien, head of operations for Britain’s National Crime Agency (equivalent to the FBI), publicly stated:

“While there is [a] user base willing to spend millions and millions of pounds on drugs … we will have an issue with illicit drugs in this country … We can’t arrest our way out of that … We need to tackle the drivers behind it.”

Drug crime is categorically different than other sorts of criminality. If you arrest a professional burglar, then burglary rates in an area will likely go down, at least temporarily; there are relatively few people with the skills and motivation to burgle houses for a living.

Illicit drug markets simply don’t work like this. No matter how many users or dealers you arrest, the fundamental demand for the product remains constant (and perhaps even increases due to the trauma of imprisonment, family separation, etc.). Expert estimates indicate that only 1 percent of the drugs flowing into the UK are ever seized, and figures for the US are similarly tiny.

The business allowances that cartels make for police seizures are proportionately smaller than most main-street retailers make for shoplifting.

A Guaranteed Way to Increase Violence

But in fact, the dynamic is even more toxic. That photo-op moment with the drugs on the table is grotesque not only because it never decreases the drug supply, but because it actively increases violence.

It is another universal truth of any prohibition regime that if you take out one kingpin, all you do is instigate a turf war between his lieutenants and rivals over his territory. It’s a phenomenon sometimes known as the “freelancer effect.”  

This was true throughout 1920s Prohibition, and it is true now—from the jungles of Latin America, to the poppy fields of Afghanistan, to the inner cities of the US and Europe. So whenever you see those drugs piled on the table with the cameras flashing, be absolutely clear with yourself: These actions have created more violence on the streets.

In our book Good Cop, Bad War we explored in detail how the dynamics of the War on Drugs function as an arms race. The police develop new techniques to arrest dealers, so gangs respond in the only way they can: by increasing violence and intimidation. There is never any potential for de-escalation, and the dynamic can only ever lead one way. This progression is unique to prohibition policing.

It is an exact negative image of what law enforcement should look like.

Even the most cursory look at the history of the War on Drugs reveals the ever-increasing damage it has caused over decades, through mass incarceration and needless deaths—inflicted disproportionately on poor people and people of color. In addition to these horrific harms, the War on Drugs is also a betrayal of police officers themselves—many of whom fight the war unwillingly and suffer trauma and psychological problems as a result.

The drug-seizure photo op is not simply a neglect of Peel’s Principles, but an active betrayal of them. It is an exact negative image of what law enforcement should look like.  

In the end, we will look back on these modern drugs-on-the-table photo-ops with the same cringe at a pathetic, destructive lost cause that we apply to those black-and-white images of Prohibition agents smashing whiskey barrels.

Police in Ontario, Canada

The first casualty of any war is the truth. Drug war propaganda rages daily across news channels, front pages and social media accounts—and is seized upon by politicians. Yet Peel’s Principle 5 demands that police always demonstrate, “absolutely impartial service to law, in complete independence of policy.” By playing to the gallery and allowing law enforcement to become a political photo opportunity, police are abrogating their duty of impartiality, crossing the line to become politicized actors in support of this destructive set of policies.

This betrayal must not be allowed to continue.

We present this article as an opinion piece designed for active protest. We ask that you bookmark it, and post it in the comments section every single time you see a police department social media account flashing photos and trumpeting its latest “success.”  

Let’s let them know that this game is played out. Don’t let police get away with betraying their most sacred, foundational principles for social media likes.

Main photo: drugs and guns seized by Philadelphia police in March 2019, via CBS

The post Drug War Photo-Op Policing Is a Betrayal of Law Enforcement’s Principles appeared first on Filter.

“I was tracking one of the major drug dealing gangs in my area,” he begins. “I had good intel, so I stopped them–but then one turned around and stuck a handgun in my face.”

“I had a split second to react, so I just took out my baton and gave him a good hiding. Then I turned to his mates and said, ‘You come near me, you’ll get the same–don’t ever pull a weapon on me or any copper.’”

Castle joined the police in Burnley, a troubled post-industrial town in northern England, in 1996. He quickly established himself as capable and determined, and spent much of his career deployed on high-pressure undercover operations. Then, in one instant, this career was brutally ripped away.

“My approach was always to work with the community, and they were incredibly supportive,” he continues. “I knew there was one particular gang making major moves in the drugs trade, and I knew they were using serious fear and intimidation to control their own community. Through my own links in that community, though, I was able to gather intel and put them under real pressure.”

“Then one day I was pursuing a leader of this gang–and was hit by an organized ambush. They attacked me with bricks, bashing me in the head, back, legs–everywhere. I ended up in a wheelchair for a while, with damage to nerves in my spine, and to my legs and temporal lobe.”

Physically tough, Castle fought his way through the recovery process from these injuries. But the real battle turned out to be the psychological impact. He soon found himself in a downward spiral of post-traumatic stress disorder.

“The final straw came when I was driving to work one morning and found myself going down the wrong side of the road into incoming traffic.”

“At first I just shut down, I was completely numb and couldn’t show or experience any emotions towards anyone or anything,” he recounts. “But it quickly expanded into flashbacks, where I’d go into a sort of dissociative trance and it was like I was actually in these situations–being attacked again in real time. That ambush opened a Pandora’s box, and every prior instance where I’d been in danger came pouring out. Sleep becomes basically impossible, because every time you close your eyes it’s just another chance to be re-traumatized.” 

“The final straw came when I was driving to work one morning and found myself going down the wrong side of the road into incoming traffic. I had completely dissociated. That moment was the end of my police career.”

The global War on Drugs has untold victims, from the millions incarcerated to the hundreds of thousands who have lost their lives due to unregulated drug markets or brutal enforcement, and the families and communities they leave behind. Often forgotten on this list are the foot soldiers in this war–the rank-and-filed officers ordered out, like Nic Castle, to engage in a misguided and needless conflict at great personal risk.

PTSD, Addiction and Suicide–Consequences of Militarization

Unfortunately, Castle’s condition is far from unique in international policing. According to recent analysis by the National Alliance on Mental Illness in the US, up to 19 percent of police officers in the US experience symptoms of PTSD, as compared to just 3.5 percent of the general population. Addiction rates are almost three times higher. More American police die by suicide than in the line of duty.

The law enforcement establishment, despite its complicity in the drug-war catastrophe, seems woefully unprepared to deal with this aspect of police welfare. Castle sighs: “People on the force seemed to know how to handle broken bones and injuries like that–but as soon as it came to mental health, it was like they just didn’t have a clue. The only person who really helped was my rep from our union, the Police Federation.”

As awareness of PTSD is still only emerging, it is difficult to trace how this problem has developed over time. But our prediction–based on considerable first-hand experience and anecdotal evidence–is that we are standing on the edge of a precipice. The coming years will see a tidal wave of PTSD in international policing.

When you’re holding a big, expensive, military-grade hammer, a lot of problems begin to look like nails.

There is a fairly simple reason behind this. PTSD is often thought of as a “military illness.” And when you militarize law enforcement, you also import military illnesses.

Evidence of the militarization of law enforcement is difficult to quantify, but easy to observe. In the US, the federal 1033 Program has facilitated local police purchases of military equipment, including grenade launchers, .50 caliber rifles and even bayonets.

This has been sold to the public in terms of police safety and effectiveness in extreme circumstances such as terrorist attacks. However, as the cliché goes, when you’re holding a big, expensive, military-grade hammer, a lot of problems begin to look like nails.

SWAT teams were originally designed to handle rare hostage situations and active shooters, but are now ubiquitously used as high-impact search teams, the vast majority for drug warrants. One study showed that 90 percent of SWAT deployments in Maryland were for search warrants–and disproportionately used in neighborhoods with a higher share of African-American residents.

A Battlefield You Can Never Escape

You can’t declare a War on Drugs without declaring a war. This drug war has shifted the fundamental relationship between police and community. There is quite a bit of evidence that militarized policing does not actually improve effectiveness, and can damage trust in law enforcement. Far less has been written about the effect on police themselves.

“That image of his mother crying over his body with the chord still around his neck haunted me far more than any guns shoved in my face.”

Which brings us back to Nic Castle: “When I first started on the force there was one lad we picked up–a drug user from the next town over. My tutor gave me instructions to stop and search this guy every chance we got. It was part of a new strategy of identifying problematic elements and disrupting their routines.”

“I had joined the police to lock up gangsters and bad guys, so turning over this young lad didn’t really feel right–but I was under orders, so I did really go after him.”

“Then I was called to ID a body at the morgue. It was this boy, who had hung himself–leaving a suicide note saying the police pressure had become too much. He had actually detailed the times and places we stopped him. That image of his mother crying over his body with the chord still around his neck–that flashback haunted me far more than any guns shoved in my face or danger that I was in.”

What Castle is describing here is the overlap between PTSD and the idea of Moral Injury. Clinical psychiatrist Jonathan Shay first identified Moral Injury among Vietnam veterans who suffered PTSD-like symptoms, having been ordered to take actions that transgressed fundamental moral boundaries. It is not just the terror you experienced that causes the trauma, but also the terror you were forced to inflict.

As the War on Drugs inevitably propels greater militarization of the police, and further corrosion of law enforcement’s original mission to protect the communities of which they are a part, PTSD will become ever more common.

And there is one more, cruel twist. The battlegrounds of the drug war are our own towns and cities.

“I do my family shopping in the same town centers where I used to do my undercover work,” says Castle. “The triggers are all around. The military experience true terror, but eventually they get to come home from the battlefield–but the battlefield of the War on Drugs is one you can never leave.”

The post “A Tidal Wave of PTSD”–How the War on Drugs Impacts Cops Ordered to Fight It appeared first on Filter.