BRIAN PADDICK: How can the public feel safe when the police are so scared?

Is the obsession with paramilitary equipment the right direction for the police?

The contrast was strange and disconcerting. Dressed like extras from Robocop, we saw a group of heavily-armed police officers taking aim at the hedgerows last week amid scenes of Northumbrian tranquility. A herd of cows looked on.

Of course there were good reasons for the helmets, the goggles and the guns. Those particular officers were responsible for hunting down the fugitive gunman Raoul Moat, accused of two shootings, a murder and threatening to kill police and the public.

Aside from the body armour and the radios, there were automatic rifles, pistols for closequarter combat and Tasers. It is true that the search for Moat was unusually dangerous and that the officers taking part needed every protection.

The goggles were to protect the eyes from acid or other dangerous liquids as they entered farms and deserted outbuildings where Moat may have been hiding.

Yet the huge weight of equipment on view will strike most (especially city dwellers) as far from unusual. We are all too familiar with bulky body armour, guns and a range of modish extras that have turned the old-fashioned bobby into something resembling a High Street stormtrooper.

Thanks to pressure from the Police Federation (the police 'trade union') and the manufacturers of specialist equipment, the ordinary policeman or woman has been transformed beyond recognition - with damaging results for public confidence and even for their ability to do the job itself.

The balance between officer safety and the approachability of the British bobby is wrong.

When I joined the Metropolitan Police in 1976, the emphasis was on presenting as human a face as possible.

My only weapon was a one-foot length of varnished softwood, carefully concealed in a pocket sewn into the right trouser leg of my serge uniform trousers. (Female officers had a smaller version they carried in their police issue handbags.) We even had to hide the leather strap, placed around the wrist. To display it was seen as provocative.

When my colleagues came under attack at the 1976 Notting Hill Carnival, their traditional cork helmets offered little protection against the missiles thrown by rioters. Dustbin lids were inadequate shields.

But when we were issued with reinforced helmets they looked exactly the same as the traditional ones and when, in the early Eighties, riot shields were deployed, the decision was reluctantly taken.

In the course of the past 20 years, though, this understanding about the way officers present themselves, the conviction that the right appearance helps secure the trust and respect of the public, has been gradually lost.



I was never physically attacked on the beat, despite patrolling alone in some of the roughest parts of London. Until the time I retired four years ago, I would tell new police recruits that the most effective defensive weapons police officers had were their brains and their tongues, to defuse most situations.

Of course there was much more respect for the police in those days, but the police have been the authors of their own difficulty - not least in the way they present themselves in public.

The introduction of unnecessary body armour is a good example. I was a chief inspector at Brixton in 1993 when two young constables were shot confronting a violent drug dealer who had escaped from prison. In response, senior officers decided they would allow police officers to routinely wear body armour. This was despite the officers being shot in the legs, which are not covered by body armour, and despite gunmen rarely targeting police officers.

The sight of policemen in bulky armoured vests creates a psychological barrier between them and the public and raises people's fear of crime. We assume the streets are dangerous if officers appear to feel the need, as a matter of routine, for protective clothing.

American batons, which have replaced the traditional police truncheon, are another case in point. When they were first introduced in 1993 they tripped up the shorter officers when they tried to give chase.

Officers now prefer the extendable metal baton. But even these are prominently and provocatively displayed. Handcuffs, which we used to carry in our pockets, are now carried overtly along with a canister of CS spray.

In fact, there is now so much weaponry that officers have to wear wide Batman-style utility belts to carry it all.

These regrettable changes are little to do with the world outside the police station. The murder rate in Britain has barely changed for decades (between 550 and 650 a year) as has the level of serious violence directed at police.

I believe that the look reflects the macho, male-dominated nature of the organisation. Some officers have always looked to resolve situations by force as a first, rather than a last, resort.

Weak leadership from senior officers has also contributed to the change, colluding with the 'canteen cowboys' and lobbying for ever more expensive accoutrements. Is this because they have been unwilling or unable to stand up to successive governments? Certainly they have failed to engage with the more difficult questions of law and order in a changing society.

It is often said that Britain is policed by consent, where officers are seen as citizens in uniform operating with the support of the public. These are not empty words. Around the world, where most people are policed by force, our approach is viewed with admiration.

Yet the militarisation of the beat bobby is eroding that unique relationship - to the extent that police community support officers are now officially seen as 'the bridge between the police and the public'.

It is fortunate that the damage is not beyond repair. Where body armour is required, the heavy style currently in use should be replaced with ultra-thin types that can be easily concealed. The extendable batons should be hidden from view. CS spray and Tasers should be held ready for use in patrol cars.

And we should start talking about the human face of our policemen and women once again.

This would do much to restore some public trust and confidence and help to preserve our unique, British approach to upholding law and order.