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A critical history of police reform
BOOK REVIEWS
275
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overall system. Even in Part V he addresses juvenile justice not only in a highly objective, but in a highly comprehensive manner. Pursley, unlike many of those who have proceeded him, truly deserves to have his book entitled, Introduction to Criminal Justice. Calvin J. Swank Associate Professor Youngstown State University Youngstown, Ohio 44555
A Critical History of Police Reform by Samuel Walker. Lexington Books (D. C. Heath & Co., 125 Spring Street, Lexington, Massachusetts 02173), 1977, 174 pp., plus notes and index, $17.95. In the last issue of the Journal I reviewed an historical analysis of police reform by Robert Fogelson, who argued that the efforts of the last three-quarters century to improve American law enforcement--efforts in which most of us have participated in some way or other--were major skirmishes in an overall Progressive battle to change the nature of municipal government. Furthermore, Fogelson argued, this battle was essentially a push by white, middle class activists to favor their concerns--matters like governmental efficiency and "conventional" morality--over the interests of nonwhites and the working classes. Walker's book, coincidentally published at about the same time, reviews the same story but comes up with a different moral. While neither would seriously dispute the other's facts--they are, after all, analyzing the same historical events--Walker chooses to emphasize different aspects, and he shows greater sympathy for what the reformers said they were trying to do. According to the current book, the story of American police reform is a history of sequentially rising public expectations for the integrity and capability of law enforcement, followed by continuing frustration of police chiefs and leaders, as they struggled to keep their departments--essentially undemocratic institutions---current with popular, cultural values and fears. In the beginning of police reform (around 1880-1890), the most crucial issues involved police personal integrity. Officers, who were recruited through a political patronage system, frequently failed to appear for work. When they did turn up for shifts, their drunkenness and dishonesty often caused citizens to wish they hadn't. The public, which had always been a bit wary of full-time police anyway, grew increasingly intolerant of official indolence. They demanded, through a number of means, such as the investigations of the Lexow Committee in New York and the lobbying of the Committee of One Hundred in Cincinnati, a change. The direct result was militarism, complete with uniforms (which were intended not as a symbol of authority but to make it easy for supervisors to spot a delinquent cop), guns, and close-order drill. But the public was not content with these immediate remedies, Walker explains. As police forces cleaned up their ranks, popular demands were not s a t i s f i e d ~ e y became more exacting. Attention turned now to capabilities, and law enforcement agencies began to be held to account for doing something about crime. As the twentieth century broke, Walker continues, police reformers started to focus on the idea of professionalism as a means to improve police competence. Over time, two distinct approaches were developed. One, favored by Raymond Fosdick and New York's Bureau of Municipal Research, held that the road to professionalism was paved with administrative efficiency. Police departments
276
BOOK REVIEWS
should be run like businesses, they contended, and they put their claim in action by centralizing authority, tightening supervision, and writing detailed police manuals that directed how discretion should be exercised. The other approach to police professionalism, one favored by August Vollmer of Berkeley in the 1920s, Alice Stebbins Wells of the Chicago Police Department, and Chief Fred Kohler of Cleveland, called for enhancing police performance by expanding the police role. Police duties and abilities were to be extended, beyond mere thief-taking and crook-catching, into crime prevention. Drawing from the ideals of social work, these reformers argued that police officers, coming into direct, daily contact with the poverty and social disorganization that breed crime, were in an excellent position to develop skills for ameliorating these conditions, thus forestalling crime before it occured. The introduction of policewomen into law enforcement was one development of professionalism through role expansion. The first female police officers, in Portland, Oregon in 1905, Los Angeles in 1910, and throughout the country in succeeding years, were social workers brought directly in, to boost departmental skills. Other innovations, such as the Golden Rule policy and the Sunrise Court, sought police-based rehabilitation, decriminalization, and diversion. As the things developed, Walker explains, hard times and tough politics brought an end to professionalization by role expansion. As-unemployment swept the country, the threat of social upheaval heightened. Fueled by the public relations stunts of J. Edgar Hoover, who was intent on carving out a federal niche in what had traditionally been considered local law enforcement, popular apprehension spread. The focus of professional attention narrowed strictly to criminal apprehension activities, as the public became increasingly receptive to calls for repressive, punitive reaction to crime. By the mid-1930s, even August Vollmer----once the greatest advocate of role expansion--had shifted his interest to the efficiency side of professionalism. As we all known, O. W. Wilson, his disciple, became the champion of bureaucratic regularity. The irony of history, Walker concludes, is that by concentrating o n administrative e f f i c i e n c y - - b y building and refining organizations that centralize authority and codify procedures--the reformers created a police system that limited the authority of the front-line practicioner. The fruit of their efforts was not a corps of professionals, but a body of bureaucrats. People study history for two purposes. One reason is to learn stories of the past, of the men and women who lived, and what they accomplished. This type of history serves to entertain and inspire, to enrich our lives both immediately and through what we ourselves may do. Those who read history for this sort of entertainment will find the Walker book a more pleasant exposition than Fogelson's. The writing style is more relaxed, and the author does not subject his reader to the third degree (as Fogelson does) with endless repetition of documentation---examples and citations--to jam every minor point down the reader's throat. Walker's book takes more of a journalistic tone, and it focuses more broadly on the long-range contributions of individuals. But the other purpose of history is to draw a moral, to elicit lessons for our own lives. "Those who fail to learn from the mistakes of the past," the old bromide goes, "are doomed to repeat them in the future." Fogelson's book, whatever its defects of style and tedium, presents his point more clearly and memorably. His is a forceful argument, and a deeper insight. In the end, they're both good books, and they will add a good deal to our knowledge of why our professional world is as it is. They may also give some guidance to those who intend to continue the effort to make policing more democratic, more useful to citizens, and more meaningful to police officers. Michael W. O'Neill Criminologist San Francisco, California
275
o
overall system. Even in Part V he addresses juvenile justice not only in a highly objective, but in a highly comprehensive manner. Pursley, unlike many of those who have proceeded him, truly deserves to have his book entitled, Introduction to Criminal Justice. Calvin J. Swank Associate Professor Youngstown State University Youngstown, Ohio 44555
A Critical History of Police Reform by Samuel Walker. Lexington Books (D. C. Heath & Co., 125 Spring Street, Lexington, Massachusetts 02173), 1977, 174 pp., plus notes and index, $17.95. In the last issue of the Journal I reviewed an historical analysis of police reform by Robert Fogelson, who argued that the efforts of the last three-quarters century to improve American law enforcement--efforts in which most of us have participated in some way or other--were major skirmishes in an overall Progressive battle to change the nature of municipal government. Furthermore, Fogelson argued, this battle was essentially a push by white, middle class activists to favor their concerns--matters like governmental efficiency and "conventional" morality--over the interests of nonwhites and the working classes. Walker's book, coincidentally published at about the same time, reviews the same story but comes up with a different moral. While neither would seriously dispute the other's facts--they are, after all, analyzing the same historical events--Walker chooses to emphasize different aspects, and he shows greater sympathy for what the reformers said they were trying to do. According to the current book, the story of American police reform is a history of sequentially rising public expectations for the integrity and capability of law enforcement, followed by continuing frustration of police chiefs and leaders, as they struggled to keep their departments--essentially undemocratic institutions---current with popular, cultural values and fears. In the beginning of police reform (around 1880-1890), the most crucial issues involved police personal integrity. Officers, who were recruited through a political patronage system, frequently failed to appear for work. When they did turn up for shifts, their drunkenness and dishonesty often caused citizens to wish they hadn't. The public, which had always been a bit wary of full-time police anyway, grew increasingly intolerant of official indolence. They demanded, through a number of means, such as the investigations of the Lexow Committee in New York and the lobbying of the Committee of One Hundred in Cincinnati, a change. The direct result was militarism, complete with uniforms (which were intended not as a symbol of authority but to make it easy for supervisors to spot a delinquent cop), guns, and close-order drill. But the public was not content with these immediate remedies, Walker explains. As police forces cleaned up their ranks, popular demands were not s a t i s f i e d ~ e y became more exacting. Attention turned now to capabilities, and law enforcement agencies began to be held to account for doing something about crime. As the twentieth century broke, Walker continues, police reformers started to focus on the idea of professionalism as a means to improve police competence. Over time, two distinct approaches were developed. One, favored by Raymond Fosdick and New York's Bureau of Municipal Research, held that the road to professionalism was paved with administrative efficiency. Police departments
276
BOOK REVIEWS
should be run like businesses, they contended, and they put their claim in action by centralizing authority, tightening supervision, and writing detailed police manuals that directed how discretion should be exercised. The other approach to police professionalism, one favored by August Vollmer of Berkeley in the 1920s, Alice Stebbins Wells of the Chicago Police Department, and Chief Fred Kohler of Cleveland, called for enhancing police performance by expanding the police role. Police duties and abilities were to be extended, beyond mere thief-taking and crook-catching, into crime prevention. Drawing from the ideals of social work, these reformers argued that police officers, coming into direct, daily contact with the poverty and social disorganization that breed crime, were in an excellent position to develop skills for ameliorating these conditions, thus forestalling crime before it occured. The introduction of policewomen into law enforcement was one development of professionalism through role expansion. The first female police officers, in Portland, Oregon in 1905, Los Angeles in 1910, and throughout the country in succeeding years, were social workers brought directly in, to boost departmental skills. Other innovations, such as the Golden Rule policy and the Sunrise Court, sought police-based rehabilitation, decriminalization, and diversion. As the things developed, Walker explains, hard times and tough politics brought an end to professionalization by role expansion. As-unemployment swept the country, the threat of social upheaval heightened. Fueled by the public relations stunts of J. Edgar Hoover, who was intent on carving out a federal niche in what had traditionally been considered local law enforcement, popular apprehension spread. The focus of professional attention narrowed strictly to criminal apprehension activities, as the public became increasingly receptive to calls for repressive, punitive reaction to crime. By the mid-1930s, even August Vollmer----once the greatest advocate of role expansion--had shifted his interest to the efficiency side of professionalism. As we all known, O. W. Wilson, his disciple, became the champion of bureaucratic regularity. The irony of history, Walker concludes, is that by concentrating o n administrative e f f i c i e n c y - - b y building and refining organizations that centralize authority and codify procedures--the reformers created a police system that limited the authority of the front-line practicioner. The fruit of their efforts was not a corps of professionals, but a body of bureaucrats. People study history for two purposes. One reason is to learn stories of the past, of the men and women who lived, and what they accomplished. This type of history serves to entertain and inspire, to enrich our lives both immediately and through what we ourselves may do. Those who read history for this sort of entertainment will find the Walker book a more pleasant exposition than Fogelson's. The writing style is more relaxed, and the author does not subject his reader to the third degree (as Fogelson does) with endless repetition of documentation---examples and citations--to jam every minor point down the reader's throat. Walker's book takes more of a journalistic tone, and it focuses more broadly on the long-range contributions of individuals. But the other purpose of history is to draw a moral, to elicit lessons for our own lives. "Those who fail to learn from the mistakes of the past," the old bromide goes, "are doomed to repeat them in the future." Fogelson's book, whatever its defects of style and tedium, presents his point more clearly and memorably. His is a forceful argument, and a deeper insight. In the end, they're both good books, and they will add a good deal to our knowledge of why our professional world is as it is. They may also give some guidance to those who intend to continue the effort to make policing more democratic, more useful to citizens, and more meaningful to police officers. Michael W. O'Neill Criminologist San Francisco, California