PC Bee

"It's not the police who need to be retrained, it's the public. We have grown into a mouthy, mobile phone wielding, vulgar, uncivil society with no personal responsibility and the attitude of 'it's the other person's fault, you owe me'. A society where children grow up with no boundaries or knowledge or concern for civil society and personal responsibility. When an officer says "Put your hands up," then put your hands up! Don't reach for something in your pocket, your lap, your seat. There's plenty of reason for a police officer to feel threatened, there have been multiple assaults and ambushes on police officers lately. Comply with requests from the officer, have your day in court. Don't mouth off, or fight, or refuse to comply... that escalates the situation. Police officers are our sons and daughters, fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters. They're black, white, brown, all colors, all ethnicities, all faiths, male and female, they are us. They see the worst side of humanity... the raped children, the bloody mangled bodies of traffic victims, the bruised and battered victims of domestic violence, homicide victims, body parts... day after day. They work holidays while we have festive meals with our families. They miss school events with their kids, birthdays, anniversaries, all those special occasions that we take for granted. They work in all types of weather, under dangerous conditions, for relatively low pay. They have extensive training, but they are human. When there are numerous attacks on them, they become hyper vigilant for a reason, they have become targets. When a police officer encounters any person... any person, whether at a traffic stop, a street confrontation, an arrest, whatever... that situation has the potential to become life threatening. You, Mr & Mrs/Miss Civilian, also have the responsibility of keeping the situation from getting out of control. Many law enforcement officers are Veterans. They've been in service to this nation most of their lives, whether on the battlefield or protecting us here at home. They are the only thing that stands between us and anarchy in the streets. If you want to protect your child, teach them respect." ~ Sheriff David Clarke

He struck a violent suspect three times while trying to restrain him on the floor of a custody suite. The suspect had already resisted arrest, kicked officers, tried to bite one of them, and required leg restraints, a spit hood and PAVA spray. A misconduct panel later concluded the detainee suffered no physical or psychological harm. The officer who helped bring the chaos under control lost his career. Rhodri Davies had served nearly two decades in South Wales policing. He had been headbutted, threatened with makeshift weapons, and worked daily in the most unpredictable corner of the justice system. His guiding principle was simple: in custody there is no room for mistakes because mistakes can cost lives. That is the reality of dealing with violent detainees behind locked doors. Yet the institution he served decided that three strikes delivered during a struggle should end his working life. The details only sharpen the sense of inversion. Four of eight misconduct findings were overturned on appeal. Expert evidence suggested his actions were in line with training and justified. Witnesses backed him. Questions were raised about conflicts of interest within the investigation. Officers were reportedly asked to change their statements. In the end, none of it mattered. One remaining finding of gross misconduct was enough to erase a career. This is not simply a story about one disciplinary hearing. It is a story about what policing is becoming. A profession once built on judgement is being reshaped into one governed by fear. Every use of force becomes a potential scandal. Every split-second decision is dissected months or years later in the calm of a tribunal room. The reality of violence is replaced by the comfort of hindsight. The lesson is clear: the greatest danger in a confrontation is no longer the suspect in front of you, but the investigation that may follow. That lesson is already spreading through the ranks. Former colleagues told Davies they are now terrified to put hands on violent detainees. That single fact should alarm anyone who expects the police to keep order. Policing rests on an uncomfortable truth: sometimes force is necessary. When officers begin to fear using it, the entire system begins to drift. Hesitation replaces action. Backup is called sooner. Disorder is tolerated longer. Situations that could have been contained early are allowed to grow into crises. Accountability matters. No one disputes that police must answer for wrongdoing. But accountability becomes self-destructive when institutions punish reasonable force more harshly than violent resistance. When the system teaches officers that decisive action is the quickest route to unemployment, it quietly encourages the opposite of what the public needs. The message travels fast and far: do less, intervene later, protect yourself first. The irony is stark. The suspect in this case faced no lasting harm from the encounter. The officer who ended the confrontation lost his livelihood. That inversion sends a message to every officer watching. It tells them the safest course is caution, distance and delay. It tells them that personal survival comes before public safety. Over time, that message reshapes behaviour across the entire force. A police service that fears using force cannot function. Make decisive action professionally suicidal and the outcome is inevitable: safety erodes, confidence collapses, and the gap between what officers are expected to do and what they dare to do grows wider each year. That is how institutions hollow out – rewarding caution over courage until one day they discover that action has vanished, and the damage is already done. "Rhodri Davies had served nearly two decades in South Wales policing. [...]. Yet the institution he served decided that three strikes delivered during a struggle should end his working life."