Skip to main content

Why would you call the police?

I’ve never had an experience in which calling the police made things better. In every case where I’ve seen them show up, they roll in with bravado, hubris, anger and fear. And in every case I’ve seen and experienced, they make things worse.


Been robbed?

They don’t care. They’ll make a report, but it’s an annoyance to them, just the necessary paperwork for you to file an insurance claim for what was stolen, if you’re lucky enough to have insurance. Will they go after the robber? Help you deal with the trauma of how unsafe and violated you feel? Ha! Good luck.


A car accident? Same thing. Better to just exchange insurance info and take care of it yourselves. If it’s worse than that, medics will arrive. The medics actually help! They calm down the people who’ve just experienced the trauma, they deal with injuries and help address the pain.


Police only escalate. They only make things worse.

I mean, imagine you’re a young woman who has been raped – would you call the police? They arrive with their bravado and humiliate, victim-shame and degrade – then if you’re lucky enough to be believed and taken to the hospital to be examined, the so-called ‘rape kit’ will be tossed in an evidence room and sit there for ten years or more. Have you followed the news that’s come out about this the last couple of years? Every state across the nation is the same: they ignore and fail to prosecute these cases.


Someone has been shot – they are hurt! Would you call the police?

If you call 911, just hope that the ambulance arrives there first. Police will not find the shooter, and they certainly won’t help the injured person. They may, however, escalate and make things worse. In fact, this is the most likely outcome.


Ok, but what if someone is driving recklessly and endangering everyone on the road? Shouldn’t we call the police then?

Hmmm. What will the police do in this situation? They will begin a car chase, which will endanger even more people.

But how to deal with this situation – it’s a bit more tricky, because while there may be a reason for reckless driving (getting someone to a hospital, for example), it’s more likely just some selfish jerk who gets off by driving fast and furious. Maybe there’s a combination of solutions. We can use technology to slow them down – a machine that punctures their tires or something. I’m not sure. But I do know that there’s got to be a better way than calling the cops!

Interestingly, in Germany where the Autobahn highway has no speed limit, they have less of this type of behavior and fewer accidents, because people are used to driving faster.

And who knows, in a few more years we may not have this problem anymore because only the wealthiest will be able to afford Teslas and the rest of us will simply be out of gas as the fossil fuels deplete and the climate crisis exacerbates….

But I digress.


Back to my main point: when would you call the police?

Because I, personally, cannot think of a situation in which an alternative solution would not be better than calling in the cops.


In fact (and here’s a way to use white privilege if you have it), I have a black friend who experienced harassment from a racist neighbor who got drunk regularly and threatened my friend with racist slurs. Did we call the police? Hmm. Whose side do you think they would take? Instead we formed a vigil, taking shifts sitting in our vehicles outside my friend’s house and documenting the neighbor, and if the neighbor started up, trying to talk him down – we did this for a few days, and the neighbor stopped the harassment. I guess the racist neighbor felt intimidated by the fact that this person he’d been harassing had so many white friends willing to stand up and be there. I’m not saying this is a perfect solution – but maybe community mediation or some other intervention could have worked. But NOT the police.

Popular posts from this blog

100 Days of Genocide

100 days. and I feel numb. It started, this time, with something unusual. Something unheard of. We have become used, over the past 24 years of intifada suppression, to the regular bombings of Gaza. We heard the Israeli minister say in 2006 "We have decided to put the Palestinians on a diet", carefully calculating the number of trucks allowed to enter the tiny coastal enclave based on the Israeli calculation of the population of Gaza (a perpetual underestimate) and the Israeli calculation of the caloric intake that each Gazan should be allowed. And yet, the Gaza Strip flourished. Despite Israel's imprisonment of its population, guard towers looming large all along the north and east, and fishermen not allowed to go past the 3-mile Israeli-imposed nautical 'border'. Cut off from the world. Cut off from relatives in Haifa, Nazareth, Isdud, Lod. Cut off from family in Bethlehem, Jerusalem, Nablus, Jenin, al-Khalil. The lucky few who have escaped Gaza in the past eight...

The Death of Ziad Hassan

I remember the death of Ziad Hassan. He was making coffee for his family. The whole town was under closure. The year was 2002. The Israelis came in, as they did every dawn, creeping with their humvees and their jeeps - this time they didn't bring in the tank. But later that same day they did, tearing up the streets of Qalqilia, taking down all the palm trees that were in the median strip of the main road in town, crunching the pavement into pieces of rubble. Ziad was shot before we were awake. But I was on the ambulance crew - just an observer, just a helpless fucking 'human rights observer', doing the same thing Rachel Corrie was doing when she was crushed to death by a Caterpillar D9 bulldozer made in Peoria, Illinois for standing in front of a doctor's home in Rafah with a megaphone trying to tell them to stop. She was braver than me, maybe. I didn't stand in front of the D9. But I saw it. I saw it in Qalqilia. I took pictures as it came barreling down the stree...