Solo patrols risk leaving PCs all bark and no bite
THE dog was all lolling tongue and tough-guy good looks until I pulled back the hammer on the .357 Magnum revolver. In an instant, the Alsatian’s fangs were inches from my face and I saw the boots of the 14-stone policeman holding his leash sliding on gravel as the dog tugged him forward.
Luckily for me, this was at the back of Stranraer police station as part of a canine unit demonstration for my Boys’ Brigade company and not my last stand outside a bank I’d just stuck up. Even the pistol was unloaded.
I took away two lessons. One: Always obey a police dog handler. Two: Police work does sometimes involve the measured application of force.
Today, my children adore Police Interceptors, a TV series that’s all terse radio messages, foot races through gardens and TPACs. That’s Tactical Pursuit and Containment, where police cars chase a vehicle and box it in. High-octane stuff.
Filmed with several English forces, the show follows Interceptors as they target cocaine mules, stolen cars and the odd hard-core blagger of the sort Regan, Carter and The Sweeney faced weekly.
But most of their trade is lairy drunks, kids who smoke dope and drive, and poor souls who need a social worker, not their collar felt. And it’s a vision of what policing here will become, for these Interceptors often operate alone.
They have body-cameras and rely heavily on respect for the uniform. It doesn’t always work out. Footage from a female officer showed a handcuffed suspect in the rear of her car. He lashed out, knocking her unconscious, and ran. She could have been killed.
With budget cuts biting and technology improving, Scotland will inevitably head towards solo patrols. Yes, the technology driving change is impressive. Take ANPR – automatic number-plate recognition. It means Interceptors know if a vehicle is street-legal (probably how Transport Minister Humza Yousaf came to be caught driving without insurance) even before they pull the driver over.
But all technology has flaws. Police Scotland logged 300 technical glitches during a bodycam trial.
If I were trying to lift a chippy drunk or was pitching into a bar rammy, I’d want more than a bodycam and an internet connection to ANPR. I’d want a 14-stone mate with a snarling Malinois – the dog breed favoured by police these days.
Chief Constable Phil Gormley has a tough circle to square with growing demands and dwindling resources. Violent crime is up, yet we are still more likely to fall victim to cyber-crime.
So should Police Scotland be poring over computers while just a few Interceptors patrol? Because ‘Star Wars policing’ means the force may not be with you if there’s someone creeping outside your rural home at 3am.
We need a conversation about policing and it should start with the idea that cyber-crime ought to be the realm of an FBI-style agency with a UK-wide remit, since so many scams originate abroad.
Police Scotland meanwhile needs to hang on to two-officer patrols as long as it can and concentrate on real-world, not online, criminals. CSI Inverclyde matters as much as CSI Internet.