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t
was a pleasure to watch the president's speech before Congress last week,
but not an unqualified one. How heartening it was to behold, when the
camera was trained on the assembled legislators, the contrast between
the gleeful miens of the Republicans and the dour expressions of the Democrats.
I suspect that at the conclusion of the evening's program a certain senator
from Massachusetts badly scuffed his brogans on some bar rail while crying
in his beer. (Something stronger, perhaps?) And there was poor John Lewis,
representative of Georgia and erstwhile hero of the civil-rights era,
watching with the countenance of a man who had sat on a nail but didn't
dare stand to remove it lest someone think he approved of something Mr.
Bush had said.
But, about halfway through the speech came what I suppose was the inevitable
sop to the Left, one that had the Democrats on their feet unsteadily,
in at least one instance and brought renewed hope to those glum
faces. "Earlier today," said the president, "I asked Attorney General
Ashcroft to develop specific recommendations to end racial profiling.
It is wrong and we must end it."
Must we? I have a bit of news for anyone who honestly thinks racial profiling
is widespread in American law enforcement: It is already against the law,
and prophylactic measures against the practice are already in place. In
1968, the Supreme Court ruled in Terry v. Ohio that a police officer
may stop and detain an individual based on reasonable suspicion that a
crime has occurred, is occurring, or is about to occur. If during the
course of that detention the officer develops probable cause to arrest
the individual, the officer must articulate in his reports the reasonable
suspicion for the detention as well the probable cause for the arrest.
If the underlying reasonable suspicion is later found to be lacking, the
subsequent arrest will be ruled unlawful and the officer will be exposed
to potential civil liability regardless of the factual culpability of
the arrestee.
We in the LAPD are currently operating in an environment in which anyone,
for any reason, can walk into a police station and lodge a complaint against
an officer. If a citizen presents himself at the front desk of my station
and informs a sergeant that he didn't much care for the way Officer Dunphy
looked at him as he drove past that morning, that sergeant must sit down
with the citizen, tape record his statement, and complete an investigation
into the manner in which I look at people when I drive past. If the following
day another person comes in to report that I presented a scowling visage
as I motored by, I will be perceived by my superiors in the department
to be a exhibiting a pattern, and a notation to that effect will forever
linger in my computerized personnel file.
Similarly, if I issue a citation to someone for driving 63 miles per hour
through a school zone, that person may complain that I cited him only
because I harbor some animus toward persons of his ethnic group. In the
ensuing investigation, the sergeant will examine my citation book so as
to detect any patterns that might reveal inordinate attention directed
at persons of that ethnicity. That the area I patrol is populated almost
exclusively by people of that same ethnicity will matter little to those
who presume to know the hearts and minds of others based on a study of
such statistics.
The solution to this, as put forth in a yet to be implemented consent
decree between the LAPD and the Department of Justice, is to track the
ethnicity of individuals arrested, cited, or otherwise contacted by police
officers. If an officer's statistics indicate a pattern of prejudice toward
one group or another, that officer will soon find himself looking for
another job, if not for a defense attorney.
And so we may well ask, What will be the harvest of such a policy? Let
us examine this utopian future as it may be experienced by two ordinary
police officers, whom we'll call Archibald and Basil. They are on patrol
one day when they are summoned to the scene of a purse-snatching. A distraught
woman describes for them the harrowing details of her encounter with two
villainous creatures who have only moments before set upon her and threatened
her with a hiding if she failed to turn over her handbag. Fearing for
her safety she has of course done so, leading Archibald and Basil to conclude
that what they have here is a case of robbery, pure and simple, viz. the
taking of another's property by means of force or fear.
The woman describes the devils as being 20 years old, blond and blue-eyed,
and driving a gray Volvo sedan. She then adds an important clue.
"Their breath," she says, "smelled distinctly of fish."
No words are necessary as Archibald and Basil exchange knowing glances.
"Might it have been the aroma of herring?" says Basil.
"It might well have been," says the woman. "If forced to offer a guess,
I'm certain herring would be my first."
There is a silent nod between Archibald and Basil: The Swedes, again.
There is in the district they patrol an enclave of Swedish immigrants,
and though the great majority of them are law-abiding citizens, certain
of their number primarily fatherless males between the ages of
16 and 24 are responsible for a disproportionate amount of mayhem
in the neighborhood.
"We have an idea," says Archibald to the woman, "of where we might locate
the culprits. Please wait here while we investigate."
And with that the officers proceed to the local fishmonger, where their
suspicions are quickly confirmed. Parked outside the shop they see a gray
Volvo sedan, and soon thereafter appear in the doorway two blond, blue-eyed
men near the age of 20. They each carry parcels wrapped in brown paper,
through which is seeping the distinctive oil so readily recognizable even
from the officers' vantage point across the street. The crime was surely
motivated by the perpetrators' herring habit, and they have come directly
here to find satisfaction.
"And there they are, Archie," says Basil. "Let us act swiftly."
"Just a moment," says Archibald. "May I remind you that you are due to
be promoted shortly to the rank of detective, and that I am expecting
to be transferred to a more desirable assignment."
"The point is well taken," says Basil. "Let us pause to consult the charts
and tables."
They produce from their notebooks a number of papers on which is printed
the latest statistical information on their enforcement efforts.
"Yes, it is just as I feared," says Archibald. "We have been heavily into
Swedes this month. If we proceed along this course, we will push our statistics
further from the bounds of the prescribed demographic norms and thereby
risk bringing down upon our heads the wrathful vengeance of the Justice
Department, the New York Times, and Greta Van Susteren. You may
well be denied your promotion, and I my transfer."
"Indeed," says Basil.
"In fact," continues Archibald, "if we wish to bring our statistics into
a more demographically representative and acceptable pattern, we must
eschew Scandinavians altogether and by midnight Saturday arrest a Peruvian,
a Pole, and two Pakistanis."
"Quite right," says Basil. "Drive on."
The officers return to find the victim where they had left her, and they
see her hopeful expression fade to one of resignation as she realizes
they have come empty handed.
"We're so sorry," says Basil to the woman, "but it appears as though the
scoundrels have made good their escape."
"Thank you for your efforts," says the woman. "It must be a difficult
job."
"More so every day," says Archibald.
"We'll be pushing off, then," says Basil, "but perhaps we might ask a
favor of you."
"Certainly," says the woman.
"If you should happen to see any Peruvians, Poles, or pairs of Pakistanis
prowling about, please do give us a call."
(*Jack
Dunphy is the author's nom de cyber. The opinions expressed are his own
and almost certainly do not reflect those of the LAPD management .)
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