Two Essays on Courage

Part One: What Old Westerns Can Teach Us About Cowardice and Courage

I have now well-passed that milestone which marks the halfway point on life’s journey. At such a time, a man should take stock and reflect on his experiences, what he has learned, and what he can share. I do so now, knowing full well that in the process I may make many unfriends.

. . .

There was a common motif in the old Western movies. Dangerous gunslingers come into town—they put fear into the heart of the long-serving town sheriff. Perhaps he is too new at the job; perhaps, he is just passed his prime. He hands in his badge to the mayor and town council, and then he flees. His conduct is low, vile, and, most of all, cowardly.

            That said, at least, the sheriff’s conduct reminds us of the aphorism that hypocrisy is the homage vice pays to virtue. And, as low, vile, and cowardly as the sheriff’s conduct is, he does something right: he has the heart to leave and to suffer the umbrage of the townspeople. Consider what the sheriff does not do. He does not take sick leave or vacation time—in the forlorn hope of a change of circumstances. He does not try to convince the mayor and council that there is no danger. He does not hang around and slow down the process for the municipal government and decent folk to find a better man. And most importantly, he does not continue to draw a salary while refusing to endure the substantial risks his position entails. He is man enough, at least, to realize he is a coward.

            Today, if you have not personally observed it in our dangerous streets, you can find hundreds of videos on the internet where a crowd of police officers all witness a crime, and they do nothing. They effectuate no arrest. And their reports will not infrequently deny what they have seen. And they are rewarded for doing so. They are rewarded for doing so in cases where the crime is committed by a brother officer.

            Now, why don’t they arrest their brother officer? There are lots of reasons: the thin blue line; loyalties to those with whom they share dangers; the power—lawful and unlawful—enjoyed by a criminal police officer and his supporters in the police department’s hierarchy; the fear of acting alone or first when enforcing the law. And then there is also qualified immunity, and states attorneys who run for election and who are afraid of push back by public police unions. All these reasons exist. But they are not the core reason.

            The core reason is that their brother officer is armed, and their attempting to effectuate an arrest carries genuine risk to life and limb. Risk to their lives and to their limbs. They are lower than the fleeing town sheriff. They will not enforce the law. They will not quit. And they will leave dangerous, armed, thuggish police officers in the community with guns to commit further crimes in their current position or after such officers resign and find a new position in another police department. All the while, the police officers who refuse to arrest their brother officers continue to drawa salary and bar better men than themselves from doing what the law and justice demand. The police officers who fail to act when they witness crimes are, to put it most simply, cowards.

            Recently, in a town in the United States, a male police sergeant was screaming at and, apparently, assaulting a handcuffed arrestee who had already been placed in the back of a police cruiser. A female police officer attempted to defuse the situation by tugging the sergeant away from the arrestee. At that juncture, the sergeant put his hands around the female officer’s neck and then threatened her. Not then, but days later, the sergeant was put on administrative leave, and subsequently, fired, arrested, and charged with state crimes. But here’s the problem: in addition to the sergeant and the officer who intervened, at least four other officers were on hand and observed these events. And they did—nothing. At best, they afterwards filed reports admitting to what they had seen. But at the very time the sergeant was committing a crime against a fellow officer, and while they were personally on hand, they did nothing. They left a thug who had committed a crime against a member of the public and against a fellow officer, and right in front of them in broad daylight, armed and in possession of his badge.

            My objection to the police officers’ behavior here extends not just to the other police officers who stood by witnessing these events. My objection also extends to the female police officer, who was herself a victim. As soon as the sergeant had removed his hands from her neck, her job was to effectuate the sergeant’s arrest. Then and there. She did not do that. And that makes her behavior cowardly, too. Yes, I know that sounds harsh. But it only sounds harsh because our standards and expectations of what to expect from the police and from our other public officials have fallen so low. Her job before, during, and after being assaulted was to protect the public and not to leave armed criminals free to commit further crimes against our neighbors, against our families, and against us.

            Unlike the police, we do not receive costly training to subdue criminals.

            Unlike the police, we do not carry badges.

            Unlike the police, most of us do not carry guns.

            And, unlike the police, we do not draw a salary as compensation for protecting the public.

By contrast, the female police officer that day:

            She had received such training.

            She carried a badge.

            She had a gun.

            And that day, and for all I know every day since, she received a salary—ostensibly—to protect and serve the public.

            If she and the other police officers who were on-hand cannot do their job, or if she and they are unwilling to do their job (which is more likely), then each should resign—like the “virtuous” town sheriff who ran away in the old Western movies. He, at least, had the courage to reveal himself for the coward he was.

            Perhaps, one day, we can get back to that low, vile, and, most of all, cowardly standard.

Part Two: When The Police Confront Athletes

Athletes are not above the law. It follows that in a physical confrontation between, on the one hand, a college or pro-athlete, and, on the other hand, a police officer, the police officer may be in the right. Alternatively, police officers are not above the law either. When the police officer is in the wrong, the popular imagination turns to three possibilities: [i] the cop had a bad day—and should be disciplined and receive remedial training; [ii] the cop regularly has bad days—and should be fired for using excessive force; or, [iii] the cop is a bigot who is using force for improper motives and improper purposes—and never should have been entrusted with public authority.

            But that is wrong. There is another possibility—all too real—that the public overlooks and that the authorities have little incentive to investigate. The other possibility is that the cop is in financial distress, and she has money on the game. Such a cop looks to take a player “out” in order to win a bet—a bet which has been placed under someone else’s name. Or, even worse, the cop is taking a player out to facilitate cheating by organized crime.

            A criminal police officer would much rather be known as a bigot and so keep her job or find another police officer job after having been disciplined and having received remedial training, than being prosecuted for having taken payoffs from organized crime. A police officer involved in the latter might cheerfully admit to being “merely” a bigot. And, it is so much easier and safer for the commanding officers and the local prosecutor to allow the “bigot” to resign, rather than to investigate criminal wrongdoing. After all, the mob might respond in a way somewhat unlike what you or I might do if we were investigated.

            When a police officer, without cause, has an unexplained physical confrontation with a college or pro-athlete, the officer’s home should be searched; she should be made to explain the source of any funds in her bank account; and her telephones tapped. It is that simple. If that is not the first response by more senior police officers and her agency’s internal investigations body when put on notice of such wrongdoing, then just maybe they are part of the problem too.

            Similarly, when the police “inadvertently” bust down the door to the wrong address in pursuing a drug crime, one has to wonder, was it actually inadvertent? Or were the police facilitating the drug dealers’ getting away?

            It is all too easy to look the other way. Courage requires that we address these problems. And law and order starts with our policing the police . . . because . . . no one is above the law.