The real role of the police

These days, police officers help put a sticking plaster on society's ills.

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Earlier this week a group of gang members were taken to Wood Green Crown court to hear some home truths. Ten boys, all under the age of 17, were brought into the dock. They giggled and shouted abuse at the police. Five minutes into the session they'd fallen silent. They'd been shown stomach-churning photos of stabbing victims. A young mother told them about the death of her son. They heard from 20-year-old former gang member Jermaine Jones-Lawler, who went nose-to-nose with them; shouting, he told them they'd end up in a coffin or a jail cell. All very positive: but is this sort of thing the police's job?

On Radio Four's What Are The Police For? last week policing minister Nick Herbert said the police's job was to "cut crime." The show's presenter Mark Easton was unequivocal in his reaction to Herbert's answer. It really wasn't very BBC at all, and certainly not very Radio 4. He dismissed it as a "soundbite, not a policy." The image that Herbert's words were supposed to portray seems pretty clear: cops catching baddies.

For those who've not seen the excellent Channel Four series Coppers, the words of Thames Valley officer Police Sergeant Graham Smith, also interviewed, should disabuse you of this notion:

Crime fighting is 75 per cent of what we do. The rest of it is putting a sticking plaster on society's ills. We're the only people available after 4pm to do that. Where are the social workers, the teachers and the mental health doctors? They're generally at home. We pick up the pieces and wait for the professionals. It's about preservation of life.

The crossover between crime and mental health runs deep - even in the most clear-cut cases of criminality. Back when I was researching gangs I was told early on by a psychologist to look at how many of the kids would be in a state of 'frozen watchfulness'. Their faces would be expressionless, their eyes constantly shifting around. Within a week I'd seen it. It's what the apprenticeship of domestic violence produces.

We also heard the words of Chief Constable Sara Thornton: "Last year we took about 1,000 mentally ill people to places of safety. I'm not talking about people committing offences. You might say why the police - who else would do it?"

Who else indeed? To get to grips with this issue, we need to go back in time. Right back to the 19th century, in fact. The streets are dirty and nasty. There are muggers and pickpockets lurking in the shadows cast by the gas lanterns and Sir Robert Peel has, in 1829, created a force of 1,000 bobbies to service the rapidly-expanding city of London. These men wear blue, and carry a truncheon, a lamp, and a rattle to attract attention (later a flintlock pistol too). What do they do, these men? Well, they just walk around looking for crime. It probably wasn't that effective. This might be why they walked a long way: twenty miles a night, in fact.

In 1842 it all changes. The first detectives are appointed, and with them comes the birth of reactive investigation methodology. At the start of the Twentieth Century we get fingerprints; at the end we get DNA profiling. Along with all that we get things like investigation aids and systems of interviewing.

But at the end of the 20th century we see that all this still isn't enough. Until 1995, crime is still rising (according to official figures). What's gone wrong? A lot of things. Society has changed - it's more mobile, it's more numerous, it's more anonymous, there are more things to steal, and there are more human rights so the burden of proof starts to make arresting tougher. On top of that, crime isn't local - it's now national and international, and the police has to think in different ways.

Criminals become more sophisticated. They seek to avoid leaving identification or clues. So a new technique comes in: intelligence-led policing. It means we're in a new, third era. In the second era a manager in the police service looked at the day's work and said: a hundred things have been dealt with - can we deal with a hundred things tomorrow? Now the manager looks at the day's work and says: a hundred things have been dealt with - how can we have seventy-five things tomorrow?

To achieve this we have four elements - first the same patrols of Robert Peel's day, targeted through information, second, the provision of a reactive investigation service, third, emergency response, and last - and possibly most important - proactivity; in short, stopping bad stuff happening before it's started. This can take all sorts of forms. Let's say there's a nightclub, and at kicking out time the revelers are swarming out en masse and beating the crap out of each other. The police could sit around outside and nick every last one of them. Or - they could look at other ways of stopping it happening. What if another exit could be opened, so there were fewer drunk people in one place?

It's why success is so hard to quantify through simple arrest figures. Back in 2001 the Chief Constable of Avon and Somerset, Steve Pilkington, managed to get the force in Bristol to mediate between the Aggis - local drug dealers - and a gang of Yardies who were hoping to muscle in on their turf. The Guardian's Nick Davies (pre-scourge of the red-tops days) reported on the fact that Home Office officials, concerned by the corresponding drop in the number of arrests, tried to force him out of a job.

Fortunately Pilkington's friends in the Association of Police Officers threatened to kick up such a stink in Fleet Street and Whitehall that the mandarins quietly let the matter slide. This whole episode was even more head-slappingly dim than it appears. Even if crime figures could be read at face value, as Professor Mike Hough has pointed out, the police are not even the major shaper of statistics - that comes down to opportunities and social structure.

The trouble with this work is that it leads to perceived mission creep. Here are a few lines from an email I received from a recently-retired officer:

Law enforcement has crucial information, perhaps the best initial sight into what is going on. It must seize that information, identify the partners, be they other law enforcement partners or outside that club, and work in balance. Gangs is the obvious example. Yes there needs to be some concerted and directed police response but the police are not the cause of the problem and are probably always going to be too late as a solution.

To that end, let us hope that Nick Herbert and Theresa May agree with Chief Constable Thornton: "Preventing crime and cutting crime are playing with words. What's changed is the way we cut and prevent crime. Of course we have a formidable array of powers but it's about working with other organisations - social services, education and health."

If they do, being politicians, they'd never say it publicly. The public are of course considered too thick to understand such a complex message, so we have to put up with breathtakingly vacuous guff like this from Nick Herbert: "The police do other things but the core mission is crime, and they need to show leadership. People respond to leadership. It's not our job to run them but we want to declare the overall mission." I think he said more after that, but I was too busy bashing my head on the desk to listen.

There, really, is the rub. First, if the police are getting to grips with social issues in which other agencies could have a role to play, then where do we draw the line? Second, how do you hold them to account? On the first issue, do you agree with Blair Gibbs of Policy Exchange when he says there's a problem in "areas where the police think they're preventing crime by engaging in areas where other agencies or voluntary sector could have played a part"?

My problem is the emphasis of his statement. For a start, anyone who's spent time with voluntary sector agencies knows they are asked to plug quite enough holes in state provision as it is. There's only so much outreach work the voluntary sector can do. It's not the police choosing to intervene in this stuff - it's the fact there's no one else who will.

But quite apart from that, the police are usually right to intervene, because they're best suited as the first point of contact for most of these issues. They have experience, and something like anti-social behaviour, for example, ultimately has to be a police issue because it can escalate into something more serious in seconds. There's no simple answer: besides more funding. But let's stop kidding ourselves about what that extra funding would really mean.

In Wood Green, the police clearly believe their initiative will work. Let's trust them. Let's encourage and giving the time for them to build bridges with as many other relevant bodies as they can so that there can be a clean handover when they feel it's the appropriate time for a handover. Operation Trident has just taken over responsibility for all street gangs, to moderate hue-and-cry (it was set up to deal with black-on-black gun crime and its officers were involved in the Mark Duggan incident). I suspect the reason it's taken the lead is because it's generally recognised that it's done strong work in the last few years engaging with communities - charities, community leaders of all shapes and sizes, youth workers, etc. It should be given a chance. And on the issue of accountability, I think Chief Constable Thornton has it about right - she said crime statistics should be the primary data, but the confidence of the community and the satisfaction of victims must also be taken into account.

To say these are trying times for the police would be a massive understatement. The force is facing cuts. Part two of the Winsor Report will probably go down badly - it's likely to include fitness tests and shorter contracts. On top of this there's been plenty of criticism over kettling, the response to the riots and much more. They're burdened by bureaucracy, ironically due in large part to a Tory act passed in 1996. On the one hand it helps with fair trials - on the other it takes bobbies off the beat. As other agencies face cuts, they may find themselves even more stretched on the social work side of things.

We tend to have less love for the cops than we do for teachers and nurses - but like them, they're public servants who do such a vital job. It seems odd that many of us don't realize what it is.

Alan White's work has appeared in the Observer, Times, Private Eye, The National & TLS. As John Heale, he is the author of One Blood: Inside Britain's Gang Culture, republished this year. He tweets @aljwhite.

Alan White's work has appeared in the Observer, Times, Private Eye, The National and the TLS. As John Heale, he is the author of One Blood: Inside Britain's Gang Culture.

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The World Cup you’ve never heard of, where the teams have no state

At the Conifa world cup – this year hosted by the Autonomous Republic of Abkhazia – ethnic groups, diaspora communities and disputed territories will battle for footballing glory.

Football's European Championship and the Olympics are set to dominate the back pages over the next few months. How will Team GB fare in Rio? Will the zika virus stop the tournament even going ahead? Will the WAGS prove to be a distraction for the Three Lions? And can Roy Hodgson guide England to a long-awaited trophy?

But before the sprinters are in their blocks or a ball has been kicked, there's a world cup taking place.

Only this world cup is, well, a bit different. There's no Brazil, no damaged metatarsals to speak of, and no Germany to break hearts in a penalty shootout.  There’s been no sign of football’s rotten underbelly rearing its head at this world cup either. No murmurs of the ugly corruption which has plagued Fifa in recent years. Nor any suggestion that handbags have been exchanged for hosting rights.

This biennial, unsung world cup is not being overseen by Fifa however, but rather by Conifa (Confederation of Independent Football Associations), the governing body for those nations discredited by Fifa. Among its member nations are ethnic groups, diaspora communities or disputed territories with varying degrees of autonomy. Due to their contested status, many of the nations are unable to gain recognition from Fifa. As a consequence they cannot compete in tournaments sanctioned by the best-known footballing governing body, and that’s where Conifa provides a raison d’être.

“We give a voice to the unheard”, says Conifa’s General Secretary, Sascha Düerkop, whose world cup kicks off in the Autonomous Republic of Abkhazia at the end of this week.

“We are proud to give our members a forum where they can put themselves on the map.

“From that we hope to give back in the long run and invest in the football infrastructure in our member nations to help them grow.”

The two week footballing celebration starts with an opening ceremony before Kurdistan and Székely Land kick off the tournament. It follows on from 2014’s maiden competition which saw The County of Nice avenging a group stage defeat to Ellan Vannin from the Isle of Man, to take the spoils in the final via a penalty shoot-out.  There were some blowout scores of note however, with South Ossetia smashing Darfur 20-0 and Kurdistan beating the Tamils 9-0 at the event which took place in Östersund, Sweden. Neither of the finalists will be returning to the tournament – throwing down the gauntlet to another twelve teams. 

This, the second Conifa world cup, is testament to the ever-expanding global footprint of the tournament. Abkhazia will welcome sides from four continents – including Western Armenia, the Chagos Islands, United Koreans in Japan and Somaliland.

Despite the “minor” status of the countries taking part, a smattering of professional talent lends credibility to the event. Panjab can call on the experience of ex-Accrington Stanley man Rikki Bains at the heart of their defence, and the coaching savoir-faire of former Tranmere star Reuben Hazell from the dugout. Morten Gamst Pedersen, who turned out for Blackburn Rovers over 300 times and was once a Norwegian international, will lead the Sapmi people. The hosts complete the list of teams to aiming to get their hands on silverware along with Padania, Northern Cyprus, and Raetia.

A quick glance down said list, and it’s hard to ignore the fact that most of the nations competing have strong political associations – be that through war, genocide, displacement or discrimination. The Chagos Islands is one such example. An archipelago in the Indian Ocean, Chagos’ indigenous population was uprooted by the British government in the 1960s to make way for one of the United States' most strategically important military bases – Diego Garcia.

Ever since, they've been campaigning for the right to return. Their side, based in Crawley, has crowdfunded the trip to the tournament. Yet most of its members have never stepped foot on the islands they call home, and which they will now represent. Kurdistan’s efforts to establish an independent state have been well-highlighted, even more so given the last few years of conflict in the Middle East. The hosts too, broke away from Georgia in the 1990s and depend on the financial clout of Russia to prop up their government.

Despite that, Düerkop insists that the event is one which focuses on action on the pitch rather than off it. 

“Many of the nations are politically interested, but we are non-political,” he says. 

“Some of our members are less well-known in the modern world. They have been forgotten, excluded from the global community or simply are ‘unpopular’ for their political positions.

“We are humanitarians and the sides play football to show their existence – nothing more, nothing less.”

The unknown and almost novel status of the tournament flatters to deceive as Conifa’s world cup boasts a broadcast deal, two large stadiums and a plush opening ceremony. Its aim in the long run, however, is to develop into a global competition, and one which is content to sit below Fifa.

“We are happy to be the second biggest football organisation,” admits Düerkop.

“In the future we hope to have women’s and youth tournaments as well as futsal and beach soccer.”

“Our aim is to advertise the beauty and uniqueness of each nation.”

“But the most important purpose is to give those nations that are not members of the global football community a home.”

George Weah, the first African winner of Fifa World Player of the Year award remarked how “football gives a suffering people joy”.

And after speaking to Düerkop there’s certainly a feeling that for those on the game’s periphery, Conifa’s world cup has an allure which offers a shared sense of belonging.

It certainly seems light years away from the glitz and glamour of WAGs and corruption scandals. And that's because it is.

But maybe in a small way, this little-known tournament might restore some of beauty lost by the once “beautiful game”.