Policing: The Media's Big Blue Piñata

The Media should try scalpels instead of sticks

I’m going to bash the hell out of this metaphor. See what I did there?

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Piñata (noun)

A papier-mâché party decoration filled with sweets, hung up during parties, and struck with a stick until it breaks open.

In this instance (quel surprise!) the police are the piñata and journalists the partygoers. Now, this piece isn’t a gripe about journalism or journalists, a subject I’ve covered before. It’s worth mentioning I worked on the notorious media telephone hacking investigation back in 2012. The experience gave me a better understanding of the Fourth Estate - in fact, I concluded journalists have a few things in common with police officers. Both occupations contain their fair share of rogues (some of whom provide the grit in the oyster). Both involve wrestling with heavily contested versions of ‘facts’ and ‘truth’ and attract public opprobrium. And journalists and coppers also, occasionally, find themselves trying to do the right thing inside organisations which would prefer they didn’t.

For the avoidance of any doubt, I’m not suggesting policing shouldn’t suffer the scrutiny of journalists. Of course it should. Even when the media are occasionally unfair, hopelessly biased or performatively silly. But that’s enough about The Guardian for now.

Instead, this article will argue how, as British policing transforms into an ineffective, leftish, pound-shop Stasi, journalists are beginning to miss the point. Distracted by Old Bill’s almost self-parodying ridiculousness, the media increasingly behave like kids on a sugar rush, smashing the police piñata for candy. Yet, deep inside the papier-mâché husk lies a bigger prize.

You won’t get to it with a blunt instrument though.

You need a scalpel.

Easy candy for journalists.

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Then, on the other hand, are journalists who’ve been genuinely wronged. People like Allison Pearson, (threatened with prosecution for a perfectly legal social media post), now on a fiery crusade against ‘The Police.’ The problem? ‘The Police’ aren’t as monolithic as Allison’s writing occasionally suggests. She runs the risk of conflating the problems around ‘Policing’ with the poor bastards who actually police. This isn’t an ex-copper picking hairs. This stuff’s important, especially if journalists like Allison (with whom I sympathise - besides, her suggestion the BBC hire Lawrence Fox to play Doctor Who made me laugh like a drain) are going to get to the truth behind the rot infecting policing.

Yes, there are now stupid young coppers, politically-correct versions of the ‘Canteen Cowboys’ of the 80s and 90s, bringing their political prejudices to work. The difference being, though, the Canteen Cowboys were good at catching criminals. Those officers aren’t a majority, though - the real blame lies in police headquarter buildings. And so journalists risk falling into a trap, one where they turn into right-wing analogues of The Guardian.

Incidentally, though, the Police have always been a piñata for Conservative-leaning media - I remember, in the early 2010s, Theresa May’s Home Office spinning vicious anti-police propaganda. This was officials rolling the pitch for May’s disastrous reform agenda, which was largely to blame for the mess the police are in now. The Media lapped it up anyway. The piñata was gushing sweeties, and that 4pm deadline wasn’t gonna meet itself. This is why details are important. Journalists didn’t ask the right questions then – they were too busy cramming their mouths with candy.

What if they had?

Allison Pearson: Essex Police really should have known better.

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Hold on, I hear you ask, why shouldn’t the police get both barrels from journalists when they deserve it? And why should mainstream commentators care about minutiae? That’s the job of specialist correspondents, feature writers and trade journalists, right?

I would suggest not. Journalists like Quentin Letts, Jeremy Clarkson, Rod Liddle, Piers Morgan, Charlie Brooker, Caitlin Moran and, yes, Allison Pearson set the tone. The mood music. It doesn’t matter where on the political spectrum they sit; big-name writers are part of the national conversation – especially with older, influential opinion-formers. The platforms they write on might evolve, from print to paywalled website to social media to Substack, but the writers are the draw. Which is why I they owe it to their readers, and themselves, to dig deeper.

Why? Because at their best, great journalists render complex subjects accessible to a wide audience. An example? I knew nothing about agriculture, nor was I remotely interested. Then I saw Clarkson’s Farm and, because it was so entertaining, I learnt about tractors, pig-farming and Durum wheat yields, almost by by osmosis. It’s why Clarkson is one of our most accomplished journalists; I’d pay cash money to watch a documentary series chronicling his adventures as Oxfordshire’s newly-elected Police and Crime Commissioner.

This talent to inform, which the best journalists possess, came to mind when I read this piece by Allison Pearson. In fact, it kind of inspired me to write this article. Excoriating police chiefs ‘whining’ about police funding, she wrote;

Met chief Sir Mark Rowley protested that police would have to choose which crimes to investigate if they didn’t get more cash. As if the public, until now, had enjoyed a superb and rapid response to its burglaries, muggings, car, bike and phone thefts and our town centres positively thrummed with the purposeful presence of bobbies on the beat. “Yes, Sir Mark, times must really be hard if you can only send six officers to arrest a retired police volunteer over a single tweet,” sneered one disgruntled taxpayer, perfectly capturing the mood of seething resentment.

Okay, fair enough – the Met’s record is lamentable. Except the case Allison and her readers refer to took place in Kent, an area over which Rowley (Commissioner of London’s Metropolitan Police) has absolutely no control. I can imagine readers rolling their eyes now. So what? Isn’t it nit-picking?

No. Because British policing isn’t a monolith. Police services might work to the same law and (sadly) College of Policing accredited professional practice, but some are more zealous than others. Perhaps Allison could ask why? What led to this stupidity? Who benefits? Of course, she’s under no obligation to do so. However, if she did? I suggest the potency of her argument would only increase. Again, this isn’t pedantry.

This is the scalpel, not the stick.

There’s a journalistic goldmine to be dug around British policing’s nonsensical structure and The Thick of It style management. It’s a genuine tragicomedy. The police aren't configured for the challenges of the 21st Century, which is terrifying when you consider how fucked we are. And we’re only 25% of the way through. Chief officers, when they aren’t behaving like second rate commissars, possess the mindset of cavalry officers circa 1916, insisting tanks and trench warfare will never replace the necessity of lances, sabres and horseflesh.

This makes more sense than how British police services are structured.

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I could go on, but instead here’s a short FAQ for journalists, researchers or just the plain curious. It covers a few common misconceptions, complaints and questions people should be asking. As an aside, if you’re making drama, I covered that a couple of years ago.

Yes, these are topics I discuss on this little old Substack, but I’m not a journalist. I’m a writer. There’s a big difference. In any case, I’m not well-known (nor do I have any burning desire to be), whereas Clarkson, Pearson etc are.

Here we go.

What do you mean when you say the police ‘aren’t monolithic’?

There are 43 territorial or ‘Home Office’ forces, the local police services covering one or more cities or counties (including, bafflingly, the City of London Police who only cover the Square Mile). There are also specialist forces; the Civil Nuclear Constabulary, the British Transport Police and the Ministry of Defence Police. There’s also the Police Service of Northern Ireland, and if you want to be really specific, seperate forces in the Isle of Man and Channel Islands. Then there’s the hybrid, multiforce beast that is Counterterrorist Policing. I’ll get to the NCA later. What a mess. However, quite often, anything a police force does is reported as ‘the Police’. Sometimes this is a perfectly adequate description. Sometimes it isn’t, turning as it might on a particular chief constable’s behaviour, or that of their PCC.

Okay, so who’s really in charge?

Good question. More or less the Chief Constable of any given constabulary. It’s called the ‘separation of powers,’ whereby police have operational independence from politicians (in theory). The Chief is answerable, sort of, to a Police and Crime Commissioner. And the Home Office. And the College of Policing (a quango) not to mention the Independent Office of Police Conduct. Oh, and in certain circumstances the head of the National Crime Agency (the ‘British FBI’, who really, really aren’t) can ‘direct’ a chief constable to do something. Do you see? It’s a squid-like monster, one with writhing tentacles of sort-of accountability. Journalists might want to delve into why that is, and why policing so often fails the people it’s meant to serve. Or you could read my article here, or indeed many of the others on this Substack.

Why are the police obsessed with ‘hate crimes’ and NCHIs? How ‘Woke’ are the Police? Who comes up with the crazy policies journalists love writing about?

This article covers DEI stuff. Hate crimes and NCHI bullshit? Check out these articles I wrote here and here. In short? Police elites simply ape other British elites. The British Establishment is now soft-left, technocratic and disconnected from everyday people. NCHIs are part of a journey that began with the Macpherson report in the late 1990s, one embracing critical theory and intersectionality. Now the police are in thrall to into politically-indoctrinated HR departments and shouty staff associations, just like everyone else. Police ‘Wokeness’, the journalistic gift that keeps on giving, isn’t just a police obsession with social justice politics. It’s Britain’s obsession too. It’s also baked into law, thanks Tony Blair, and the police are obliged to abide by it.

What does a Police and Crime Commissioner do?

Earns lots of money for going to meetings. Seriously. Blame Dan Hannan, the Tories and the Home Office.

A curveball: if police are so strapped for resources, why do so many officers turn up to one incident?

An excellent question. Uniformed police response teams (the ones you see answering calls) work to varying demand curves. Sometimes, if they’re free, more than one unit will take a call. Or a call might require back-up, due to risk assessments made at the control room. Searching premises after arrests? That usually takes several officers - remember, most forces have ‘single-crewing policies’ which means one officer = one police car. Which is why you might see five or six outside someone’s house. Or, occasionally, police officers can be as guilty of rubber-necking as the rest of us. Anyway, it’s easy to judge when you aren’t turning up to a house to deal with an incident, not really knowing who’s behind the door.

Is the Police service really broken?

Yes. It’s even worse than you think. I wrote about why the police can’t even recover a stolen bike here. And journalists spend too much time chasing stories that, although legitimate, don’t ask why. The answer to which partly involves a maddening web of politics, special interests, institutional capture and woolly thinking on criminal justice policy. Not to mention Tony Blair’s decision to bake the ECHR into UK law.

Why do so many officers leave, and why is retention so bad?

Crappy pay (new Met coppers don’t earn enough to make average London rent). Awful hours. Poor management. Everyone hates you. Kids want to work from home, not late and night shifts. There’s violence. A tsunami of mental health issues. The wokery journalists already write about. Check this out. It’s an honest, warts-and-all FAQ I wrote for people considering joining the police.

Well, the police obviously need an officer class, don’t they? That’s what our Defence correspondent says. He did a short service commission in the cavalry (etc)

I respectfully disagree.

Why are conviction rates so awful?

Ask the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS). The police get a ‘clear-up’ if someone’s charged, not convicted (conviction’s a CPS performance indicator). See? The system isn’t very joined up, is it? The police are addicted to performance indicators, no matter how perverse the outcomes. This is a British disease. Write about it, please.

Surely crime correspondents are already writing about this?

They are. There are some excellent crime correspondents. However, if I might offer constructive criticism? They rely too much on senior officers as sources. It looks more credible having coffee with a chief constable than a sergeant, after all. I’ll be blunt – Senior officers, especially those of NPCC rank, usually haven’t got a clue what’s going on. Besides, this isn’t aimed at specialist journalists, who already understand most of the stuff I’m banging on about. This is aimed at generalists. They bash the piñata with the least finesse, yet tend to be most popular with readers.

Why is this stuff so important?

With well over 22,000 views, this is my most popular Substack article. Scary, really.

Are you this serious / pissed-off all the time?

No.

What else have you written?

Blatant plug. I cover crime, intelligence and security issues for UnHerd. You should subscribe. I also write fiction. Which you should read, obvs.

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There you have it. If any journalists, in good faith (so that rules out The Guardian) have questions, then ping me a message via Substack or here.

Oh, and if Jezza wants to make ‘Clarkson’s Nick’ for Amazon? Gimme a call.