Richard Craig Anderson

A new TV show that first aired in 1961promised viewers insight into the modern cop. The New Breed starred Leslie Nielsen. It ran for one season. Exactly ten years later, veteran cop Joe Wambaugh’s debut novel The New Centurions hit the bookstores. It blended old school cops with young rookies and struck a balance of sorts. Later, it was made into a movie starring George C. Scott. Today we’ll examine the newest New Breed – those twentysomething cops fresh out of college and ready to take on the world.

To start with, most old-timers yearn for those “back in the day” days of fond rememberances. They’re quick to point out to the younger guys & gals how much tougher it was “back then,” and how much more fun the job was. But there has been a shift or sorts that’s worth investigation, and that’s the passing of a bench mark, and a main culprit is the new breed of technology. Sure, cops 150 years ago went to street boxes to check in by phone and receive new calls. And yes, that transitioned into phones on each detective’s desk, along with radios in the patrol cars. In time, police cars were air-conditioned offices on wheels, with laptops, writing lamps and cup holders.

But the past decade has seen techno-marvels that even the geeks can’t always keep up with. Well, maybe they can – but only because they’re smarter than the rest of us. Or smarter than me, at any rate. Now the new breed can sit in their patrol car and pass the time sending email or text messages to their friends. They can crank up the iPod, adjust the seats, kick off their shoes and wait for something to happen. Meanwhile – and this is based upon hearsay - they’ve got more important stuff to handle . . . those emails and text messages, for example.

While this observation is arguable, it isn’t a singular conclusion. More and more cops of the older ilk complain of a new breed incapable of lifting their eyes from their computer screens long enough to take note of what’s taking place a mere five feet away. These observations have already found their way into literatire. In Black & White, by veteran cop Wes Albers, the hero is an old beat cop with a new rookie to train. The “kid” can’t be bothered to look, listen and learn. He’s got another agenda – his text messages. Later however, he begins to see how much he’s missing and learns to embrace at least a few of the old-timer’s ways.

This is good for the authors out there. We’re presented with an entirely new corps of first responders to mix into a plot line. For example, the rookie who never takes the time to get out of her cruiser to interact with the street people; the new guy who learns nothing about being a cop from his field training officer, because what is there to learn that he can’t find on the ‘net? It doesn’t mean a writer should be judgmental, but authors shouldn’t shirk from using what they see . . . or think they see. After all, technology has its virtues – after all, it’s what gets this article out there.

For an author to nail a cop character in a manuscript, it’s necessary to understand the difference between what a cop is, as compared to a “police officer.” This realization of what makes for a seasoned cop can (yes, I’ll say it) spice up your work. Here’s a primer:

Cops don’t work for a living. Rather, they get paid money to do something they love – something that their personality has pushed them into becoming. On the other hand, all too often police officers are in it for the steady pay, the bennies and a retirement at the end of their twenty years.

While police officers expend greater effort getting out of work instead of just doing their job, cops inherently understand that they’ve got to take the drudge work along with the pulse-pounding high-speed pursuits. That means clearing from roll call as soon as possible to begin answering a backlog of barking dog complaints, graffiti violations and passed-out drunks. It means monitoring the radio so that when another officer responds to a call, the cop will automatically start in that direction to see if he or she can assist the other officer.

When they’re not responding to calls, cops turn to proactive patrol. They know their turf and have a working knowledge of who belongs in a neighborhood, and who doesn’t. Cops realize that taking down a street corner pusher can yield information that leads to the resolution of bigger crimes. Police officers meanwhile look for places to hide whenever there’s a lull in calls.

Most departments expect their officers to make traffic stops. It’s a part of their duties and if anyone thinks that police officers have a monthly quota of tickets to write, then they’ve got it turned around. Police officers are required to turn in at a minimum number of citations and warnings – but simply to prove they’re doing what they are getting paid to do. A worker in an automobile assembly plant has to account for their work; police officers must demonstrate that they’re doing theirs. But the “quota” is paltry compared to the number of tickets true cops write on their own initiative, and the quota itself becomes a mirror of laxity for lazy police officers. As an example, I know a cop who worked for a large department. One day his sergeant told him, “You need to make more traffic stops.” My friend said, “Yes, sir. No problem. How many do you want me to make?” The sergeant replied, “At least six per week . . . but that can include written warnings.” My friend the cop looked sidelong at the sergeant. “But, Sarge . . . I’m already making fifteen to twenty stops each day.” As it turned out, the office copies of that cop’s tickets and warnings were being misfiled. But this illustrates a significant difference between cops and police officers – this cop couldn’t understand how someone paid to do their job could not make ten or twenty traffic stops a day. “It’s so damn easy,” he said. “Go to a street corner, park your patrol car and stand next to it. Then wave over every car that fails to come to a complete halt at the stop sign and give the driver a written warning . . . in ten minutes you’ve got fifteen stops.” He didn’t add the other part – doing cop work makes the hours fly past, and the end of the day’s tour of duty arrives before you realize it.

There are other lists . . . other comparison’s between what makes a cop a cop, and a police officer an employee who collects a paycheck. But in closing, there are two items to add to the list, and that’s the respect given a cop; the tacit acknowledgement that he or she does good work. And when a street cop is permitted – and sometimes directed – to handle a homicide investigation until the under-staffed detectives can take it over the next day, then you’ve seen what it is to be a cop.

The final item is what the cop sees when they glance at a mirror long after retirement. They see satisfaction. They see someone who participated in life with all its rough spots, and yet they come out shining like a diamond. Don’t believe it? Then just check their genuine smile that’s reflected back to them in that mirror.