We've Become Too Comfortable With Excuses

By: Chief Scott Hughes (ret.)

One of the benefits of teaching around the country is that I get to spend time with police officers and leaders from agencies of all sizes.

Different states. Different communities. Different budgets. Different staffing levels.

Despite those differences, I've noticed something over the last several years that concerns me.

We've become too comfortable with excuses.

Before anyone misinterprets that statement, policing has faced some very real challenges. Recruiting has become more difficult. Staffing shortages are real. COVID changed how many agencies operated. The profession has been under a microscope, unlike anything many of us have experienced in our careers.

None of that is debatable.

But at some point, we have to stop talking about what happened during the pandemic and start talking about what we're doing today.

Criminals didn't stop committing crimes. Victims didn't stop calling 911. And the public didn't stop expecting police officers to keep their communities safe.

Yet in some agencies, we've allowed short-term challenges to become permanent excuses.

What began as adjustments during the pandemic became permanent operating procedures in some organizations.

Others point to staffing shortages as the reason officers aren't being proactive, generating activity, or producing the level of work expected of them. I've never met a police department that had enough people. Every agency I've worked for or visited had vacancies or positions they wished they could fill. Being short-handed doesn't mean you stop doing police work.

Then there's the argument that low morale somehow excuses poor performance.

It doesn't.

Look, I understand these challenges. I've lived them. I've led through them.

But understanding a problem and accepting poor performance because of it are two very different things.

One of the things I've learned over the course of my career is that organizations rarely rise above the expectations of their leaders.

If officers are doing the bare minimum, avoiding proactive activity, or producing little self-initiated work month after month, somebody allowed those standards to become acceptable.

And that's where this conversation gets uncomfortable.

Because, contrary to what some people may think, I don't believe the biggest problem is the officer assigned to patrol.

I think the bigger problem is leadership.

If an officer avoids work for a shift, that's an officer problem.

If it continues for six months, that's a supervisor problem.

If it becomes part of the culture, that's a chief's problem.

Some supervisors know exactly who is carrying the workload and who isn't.

They know who is making stops, handling calls, finding drugs, locating wanted persons, and engaging the community.

They also know who spends most of the shift parked behind a building, scrolling through their phone, waiting for the next radio call.

They see the imbalance.

They simply choose not to address it.

Then they wonder why the culture deteriorates.

One of the most frustrating things I've seen over the last several years is leaders who spend more time defending poor performance than correcting it.

An officer produces little activity? We explain it away.

A supervisor refuses to hold people accountable? We explain it away.

A shift develops a reputation for doing the bare minimum? We explain it away.

Somewhere along the way, portions of this profession began to conflate support with the absence of accountability.

Supporting officers does not mean ignoring poor performance.

In fact, holding people accountable is one of the highest forms of support a leader can provide.

The same thing happens at the executive level.

I've watched chiefs complain about staffing shortages while tolerating poor performance from the employees they already have.

I've also watched chiefs spend more time talking about vacancies than the productivity of the people already on the payroll.

Recruitment matters.

Retention matters.

But neither should become a substitute for accountability.

In some organizations, we've become so focused on recruiting and retention that we're afraid to challenge poor performance for fear someone might leave.

That's backward.

Lowering standards to keep people is rarely a recipe for long-term success.

Leadership isn't complicated.

It's about creating a culture where people understand what's expected of them and are held accountable for those expectations.

Some of the best agencies I've visited are the agencies where leaders refuse to lower the bar every time a new challenge comes along.

Despite staffing shortages, recruiting challenges, and public criticism, they continue to deliver results because their expectations have not changed.

That's not luck.

That's leadership.

Accountability isn't something that only happens after a complaint, policy violation, or critical incident.

Accountability means expecting people to do their jobs.

It means addressing poor performance before it becomes part of the culture.

And it means having the courage to confront problems rather than explain them away.

The profession doesn't need lower expectations.

It needs leaders willing to raise the bar again.

Because standards don't erode overnight.

They erode one excuse at a time.

One supervisor looks the other way.

One chief accepts less than what is expected.

One shift gets comfortable doing the bare minimum.

And before long, what was once unacceptable becomes normal.