Sick culture or living with stress?

Anthony Solomona was involved in the ritual humiliation of some young suspects. Picture / Greg Bowker

Counties-Manukau Police district commander Steve Shortland is a cop under seige. The barbarians have been at the gate of his Otahuhu HQ since a guilty verdict on an assault charge was returned against veteran South Auckland officer Anthony Solomona.

To compound the problem, that verdict has taken a back seat to evidence produced in court of some bizarre police practices at the Wiri station during Solomona's tenure.

These ranged from coercing suspects into writing letters of apology to their victims - in one case a police officer - to the photographing of suspects wearing demeaning signs.

The crowning indignity was a posed photograph of a machete-wielding man, dressed in a police uniform next to a sign reading "RIP to Section 4" - the Wiri-based emergency response unit headed by Solomona.

Unfortunately for Shortland, he had to wait until the middle of the court case to learn that the problem may have been bigger than one senior sergeant.

"It first came out when we looked into the activities of Solomona.

"Then we came to realise, from Sergeant [John] Nelson's comments, that it was widespread. Then, of course, the antennae went up."

To make matters worse, District Court Judge Bruce Davidson tore into South Auckland police while delivering his verdict. He condemned the photographs - which were not the basis of any charge - as evidence of a "reasonably widespread" police sub-culture "as sick as the joke".

If it is as widespread as Davidson believes, then police bosses want to know why. An investigation has since been launched, with top brass vowing to weed out any rogue officers.

Shortland won't talk about Solomona, or the specifics of the hearing (the matter is still before the court as far as police are concerned), but he admits that every so often a policeman emerges who will drag others into disrepute.

"In every box there's at least one bad apple. If that bad apple had a lot of experience in the police and has a high rank, that guy is going to exert influence."

Counties-Manukau is a challenging district to police, he says, and its cops are among the freshest in the country. The average length of service is 7.9 years, compared with about 15 years for officers in Canterbury.

It is also busy. Counties-Manukau police - about 650 sworn officers - respond to about 15,000 priority one (111) calls each year. That's well ahead of Auckland Central and North Shore-Waitakere on 11,500 each and far ahead of Wellington's 7800.

It is also an area with scores of ethnic groups, who live in a sprawling and often poor environment. In the face of these statistics, is policing that could euphemistically be described as outside the square that surprising?

Solomona was found guilty of assaulting a 17-year-old man at a Manurewa service station in February last year. Prosecutors had argued that the assault came when Solomona smashed Angelo Turner's head into the lights of his police car while arresting him on a breach of the peace.

But Davidson rejected that theory, saying Solomona would have been better off apologising to Turner for the accident rather than slapping the cuffs on him.

That was not Solomona's attitude. The 18-year veteran, who is married to Youth Court judge Ida Malosi, liked to be more assertive than that. "My experience as a police officer has shown that in situations where one person is quite vocal it is important to act quickly."

That is not an attitude endorsed by Shortland, who believes many younger officers use humour and tolerance to subdue potentially unruly members of the public.

"Just because you are a young cop in this area, it doesn't mean you are going to be taken in by this type of behaviour."

BUT Solomona's attitude to policing may have some currency among older officers. As the six-day hearing progressed, more evidence emerged of a police culture that included among its rituals the humiliation of young suspects.

One 16-year-old claimed he had been photographed wearing a sign reading "I belong to Senior Senior Solomona".

Nelson told the court the photographs were a joke, although the humour would be likely to appeal only to police officers.

"Can you tell me, please, what is the joke about these types of pictures?" Crown prosecutor Robert Fardell asked.

"The humour would not be understood by non-police officers," Nelson replied. "I don't think I could explain the humour in two sentences."

Fardell: "Well, no one is asking you to explain it in two sentences, explain it as you wish."

Nelson then proceeded to answer the question in one sentence.

"It is a matter of police culture, you get accustomed to it as your time in the police increases."

Nelson also made the candid admission that he had not been concerned by the picture of the 16-year-old as "I wasn't supervising the [youth] matter".

When asked if he had seen such photos in other stations, he replied he had. That attitude has not pleased Shortland.

"I find it very disappointing that a sergeant of police should see this type of behaviour and not report it."

Solomona also gave evidence about that photograph. Though not amused by it, he could see how such stunts came about.

"I understand it, I don't necessarily agree with it."

He claimed the picture was an example of a "coping mechanism" used by young officers struggling with the "relentless stress and pressure" of daily police life.

That's a theory Shortland dismisses as "complete rubbish". There are, he says, any number of approved coping mechanisms for officers, including counselling.

Solomona did admit to getting a chuckle from the machete photograph, which was taken in front of his locker by someone unknown. He considered that snap "quite amusing". It sat on his desk for about two years before it was taken from his notebook, again by "persons unknown".

When asked what he thinks are the underlying causes of behaviour such as that of section 4, Auckland University law school senior lecturer Scott Optican draws a blank.

"I have no theory. No one has done any investigation into it."

Optican believes an investigation needs to be carried out at all levels of the police force to determine whether such practices, and the attitudes that nurture them, are the work of rogue cops or are fostered, albeit tacitly, from the top down. "It might be the tree, or it might be the apples. It would be good to find out."

But that does not mean Optican, a former New York City assistant district attorney turned criminal procedure lecturer, doesn't hold his own opinions on the phenomenon. He accepts, to an extent, evidence given in court that the axe-and-machete photograph was an example of a police gallows humour that helps in dealing with the stresses of the job.

He used to indulge in similar behaviour when he was a prosecutor.

"I used to eat my lunch and look at homicide pictures and laugh."

But he is quick to qualify that by saying no such behaviour is acceptable when - as in the case of the photograph of the boy with the "I belong to Senior Sergeant Solomona" sign - it leads to "unfit conduct" or to breaches of another's rights under the Bill of Rights.

"It is a joke if it is self-regarding, if it involves you and your fellow officers. It is not a joke when it starts to impede on the rights and freedoms of others."

When practices degenerate to that point, "it might be a cue to perf, like a lot of them".

Stressed cops could "put on a skit at a show" or, more riskily perhaps, "make a joke about a judge" to lower their stress levels, rather than take it out on the innocent.

Optican also agrees with Davidson's ruling that Solomona's grounds for arresting the complainant Turner were flimsy.

Arrests for offences such as disorderly behaviour and resisting - which he describes as the "great rubber sheet" charges, presumably because they can cover a range of indiscretions - are usually made simply because the suspect "failed the attitude test".

"At one level, almost every act can be disorderly conduct."

Section 4 no longer exists in the form it did when Solomona was in charge. The section was overhauled as part of a police restructuring in March last year, and the emergency response unit now operates from four bases across the district.

A new management structure also exists, says Shortland. Instead of answering directly to the district commander, senior sergeants must now report to one of four inspectors.

AN early intervention programme has also been set up to identify officers who may need a little guidance in their careers.

But will all that be enough to prevent a repeat of the goings-on at Wiri?

Shortland hopes so, but admits there is still the possibility of the wrong type of person making it to the top, if they keep their noses clean on the way. "Any person can still get to that [senior] position, if their behaviour and performance issues have been resolved."

The investigation into Wiri will continue, which is just what Optican wants to hear.

"Every organisation has people who don't act properly within the given law. Investigate it and ask yourself where the issues lie, and what it really means."