Monday, 30 November 2009

Shapes of things to come

When I read about some of the dangerous criminals the British justice system lets out to re-offend, again and again - the callous-violent, the child sex offenders - and then read stories like this I am left with the most depressing and empty feeling. In my 30 year career as a police officer, me and my colleagues were never allowed the luxury of stepping aside and mingling with the crowd whilst someone else dealt with the bestial elements of society. I suppose I can console myself by the fact that at least I'm not one of the people who have to live with knowing they were responsible for the release of such people who go on to maim, kill and sexually assault...again and again.

4 comments:

Blue Eyes said...

What the police officers have to remember is that as long as they have done their individual best, they can't be responsible for what happens to a nasty piece of work later on. If the courts decide not to bang them up then how is it the police's fault?

Our system is in a real mess, but it seems to me that at least the cops on the ground are doing as much as they possibly can in the circumstances.

Hogday said...

Blue: I agree. T'was ever thus! As usual it's the future victims I always felt, and feel, sorry for.

Stressed Out Cop said...

It's happening here all the time .. but not resulting in tragic outcomes like this - really awful - suppose we will have to risk assess eating out now!

Hogday said...

SoC: Funny how it goes in cycles. Once upon a time going into a cafe could be construed as `idling and gossiping` and you'd get a flea in your ear from a supervisor. Then they encouraged us to mingle with our local shopkeepers.

I used to pop into a few local cafes for a brew or a sarny very occasionally, if I had the chance. I used to enjoy the funny looks I got from the punters. Did the same when I was doing an attachment in Flint, Michigan, walking in with a massive city cop with all manner of kit and a wapping great .357 Magnum - no one batted an eyelid.

Yet I copped one of my worst injuries on a sunny Sunday afternoon, on a really low risk call, hence the old but now illegally non-pc advice from my old tutor, "Twinkle twinkle little rectum, you'll get caught when you least expect `em"