
My years covering the Los Angeles Police Department as a beat reporter painted a vivid, and sometimes unsettling, picture. It wasn’t the Hollywood drama I’d expected, but a more nuanced reality. What I discovered was a stark division within the force, a dichotomy that shaped my understanding of policing and its impact on the community. There were the showboaters, and then there were the real cops.
The showboaters, as I came to call them, were often the ones who craved the spotlight. Their actions were less about serving and protecting and more about self-promotion. They were drawn to high-profile cases, often prioritizing the spectacle over effective investigation. Their interactions with the public were frequently confrontational, driven by a need to assert authority rather than build trust. They were the officers who seemed to thrive on the adrenaline rush of a chase, the thrill of a high-speed pursuit, often at the expense of community relations and thoughtful problem-solving.
On the other hand, the ‘real cops’ operated in a different realm. They were the ones who understood that policing is about more than just arresting criminals. They built relationships with the community, investing time in understanding the neighborhoods they patrolled. They focused on prevention, working to address the root causes of crime rather than simply reacting to the symptoms. They understood the importance of de-escalation, choosing dialogue over confrontation whenever possible. These officers were the unsung heroes, the ones who quietly and effectively worked to build bridges between law enforcement and the community, often without seeking recognition or praise.
The distinction wasn’t always clear-cut. Some officers displayed characteristics of both categories, their actions shifting depending on the situation. But the contrast was stark enough to be undeniable. The showboaters often overshadowed the real cops, their high-profile actions dominating the headlines while the quieter, more effective work of their colleagues remained largely unseen. This imbalance distorted the public perception of law enforcement, creating a narrative that often failed to reflect the true dedication and sacrifice of many officers.
My experience covering the LAPD taught me the crucial importance of recognizing this distinction. A comprehensive understanding of policing necessitates acknowledging the full spectrum of officers, not just those who seek the limelight. The true measure of effective policing lies not in the number of arrests or the intensity of the spectacle, but in the strength of the bonds between officers and the community they serve. It’s a lesson that has stayed with me, shaping my perspective on law enforcement and its vital role in society.