Post by nighttimer on Jun 7, 2019 13:35:02 GMT -5
Jun 7, 2019 9:09:18 GMT -5 @cassandraw said:
You are not an expert at all on anything relevant here, nor are you making the barest sembla nce of a coherent argument. You're merely ranting.The difference is I have never claimed to be an expert on anything relevant here. You have with your swaggering arrogance and appeals to authority arguments. It's not always about you, Cassandra.
Frankly, I don't feel any need to defend what I've said. You haven't made a single assertion worth discussing.
To the second sentence, if I haven't made a single assertion worth discussing, why are you replying at all if this is so beneath your notice? Don't be coy. You don't do coy very well. Like at all.
Back on point: My assertion is Scot Peterson had a duty to act and his failure to makes him a coward. Your assertion is Peterson was outgunned, could have put his life at risk to no good effect and is being unfairly blamed for a systemic failure by law enforcement to react and stop Nickolas Cruz's rampage. Now if I got anything wrong there you be sure to let me know, okay?
When Lt. Craig Cardinale got to Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School as a mass shooting was unfolding last year, he found Deputy Scot Peterson pacing outside, repeating, “Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”
The deputy, who was assigned to the school, was behaving in ways typically associated with fear or panic, the lieutenant told investigators. He was moving “back and forth,” talking to himself and “breathing heavily.”
What he was not doing was what the prevailing law enforcement protocol says was his first responsibility: Go into the building. Stop the gunman.
Mr. Peterson has been castigated and, as of this week, criminally charged with endangering children and culpable negligence in connection with the attack that left 17 people dead. The case against him is highly unusual and promises to raise all manner of legal questions, such as whether a police officer’s failure to perform as trained can lead to prison.
But it also raises a larger moral question: How much bravery do we expect, or demand, of law enforcement officers? What amount of courage rises to the level of heroism — and what is just part of earning the paycheck?
Officers themselves are likely to hear inconsistent or even contradictory messages that reflect the public’s polarized view of the police as protectors or oppressors. Police officers rushed into the Twin Towers as they were collapsing; they have also shot and killed unarmed people for fear of losing their own lives.
“Every cop has heard some variation of ‘Your first job is to go home at the end of your shift,’ some version of ‘It’s better to be tried by 12 than carried by six.’ And every cop has also heard ‘You are the heroes, you are the front lines of defense, you are the ones who are supposed to run toward the gunshots,’” said Seth Stoughton, a former police officer who now teaches law at the University of South Carolina.
In many minds, the latter goes with the territory. “They have an obligation to put themselves in harm’s way,” said Ken Murray, who runs an association for training law enforcement and the military based in Orlando, Fla. “Now, if you don’t want to do that job, go do something else.”
But the idea of bravery and cowardice, in the world of policing, can be situational. What the public might think of as courage, one expert called “rational bravery” — behavior that is to be expected, given that officers with bulletproof vests and tactical expertise are the best positioned to respond and have been put in place to do so.
Much of what goes into a police officer’s response depends on the situation. Officers typically are instructed to slow down and use tactics such as taking cover to give them more time to accurately judge a situation. But active shooters now call for an entirely different response. The affidavit for Mr. Peterson’s arrest said he had been trained to immediately confront the gunman in the hope of saving lives.
Expectations and training have changed drastically since the Columbine High School massacre in 1999, when law enforcement was criticized for failing to quickly confront the assailants and 13 people died. Until then, typical police protocol had been for officers to wait for backup, or for the SWAT team to arrive.
But after that, many departments rewrote policies to emphasize that every minute could mean another death. Officers were instructed to impede or take down the gunman immediately. Dan Oates, who was the chief of police in Aurora, Colo., when 12 people died and 70 were wounded in a shooting in a movie theater there in 2012, said officers were now drilled in tactics that put the well-being of hostages and innocents first.
“That’s what you sign on for if this happens on your watch,” Chief Oates, now the chief in Miami Beach, said.
None of the officers who responded to the movie shooting hesitated to go in, said Lt. Jad Lanigan, one of the first to arrive, but that did not mean they did not feel fear; some had difficulty coping with the horror surrounding them and went into what he likened to a computer “blue screen.”
“I had people literally walk up to me, and they were blank-faced,” he recalled. “There was too much for the human brain to process. We had to take them out of it for a little bit, give them some clear direction, and they were able to plug themselves back in.”
The deputy, who was assigned to the school, was behaving in ways typically associated with fear or panic, the lieutenant told investigators. He was moving “back and forth,” talking to himself and “breathing heavily.”
What he was not doing was what the prevailing law enforcement protocol says was his first responsibility: Go into the building. Stop the gunman.
Mr. Peterson has been castigated and, as of this week, criminally charged with endangering children and culpable negligence in connection with the attack that left 17 people dead. The case against him is highly unusual and promises to raise all manner of legal questions, such as whether a police officer’s failure to perform as trained can lead to prison.
But it also raises a larger moral question: How much bravery do we expect, or demand, of law enforcement officers? What amount of courage rises to the level of heroism — and what is just part of earning the paycheck?
Officers themselves are likely to hear inconsistent or even contradictory messages that reflect the public’s polarized view of the police as protectors or oppressors. Police officers rushed into the Twin Towers as they were collapsing; they have also shot and killed unarmed people for fear of losing their own lives.
“Every cop has heard some variation of ‘Your first job is to go home at the end of your shift,’ some version of ‘It’s better to be tried by 12 than carried by six.’ And every cop has also heard ‘You are the heroes, you are the front lines of defense, you are the ones who are supposed to run toward the gunshots,’” said Seth Stoughton, a former police officer who now teaches law at the University of South Carolina.
In many minds, the latter goes with the territory. “They have an obligation to put themselves in harm’s way,” said Ken Murray, who runs an association for training law enforcement and the military based in Orlando, Fla. “Now, if you don’t want to do that job, go do something else.”
But the idea of bravery and cowardice, in the world of policing, can be situational. What the public might think of as courage, one expert called “rational bravery” — behavior that is to be expected, given that officers with bulletproof vests and tactical expertise are the best positioned to respond and have been put in place to do so.
Much of what goes into a police officer’s response depends on the situation. Officers typically are instructed to slow down and use tactics such as taking cover to give them more time to accurately judge a situation. But active shooters now call for an entirely different response. The affidavit for Mr. Peterson’s arrest said he had been trained to immediately confront the gunman in the hope of saving lives.
Expectations and training have changed drastically since the Columbine High School massacre in 1999, when law enforcement was criticized for failing to quickly confront the assailants and 13 people died. Until then, typical police protocol had been for officers to wait for backup, or for the SWAT team to arrive.
But after that, many departments rewrote policies to emphasize that every minute could mean another death. Officers were instructed to impede or take down the gunman immediately. Dan Oates, who was the chief of police in Aurora, Colo., when 12 people died and 70 were wounded in a shooting in a movie theater there in 2012, said officers were now drilled in tactics that put the well-being of hostages and innocents first.
“That’s what you sign on for if this happens on your watch,” Chief Oates, now the chief in Miami Beach, said.
None of the officers who responded to the movie shooting hesitated to go in, said Lt. Jad Lanigan, one of the first to arrive, but that did not mean they did not feel fear; some had difficulty coping with the horror surrounding them and went into what he likened to a computer “blue screen.”
“I had people literally walk up to me, and they were blank-faced,” he recalled. “There was too much for the human brain to process. We had to take them out of it for a little bit, give them some clear direction, and they were able to plug themselves back in.”
“We expect more and more and more from our police,” said Mr. Murray, the law enforcement training executive. “They’re supposed to be expert marksmen, mixed martial artists, kind, caring nurturers, social scientists to the level of psychologists; they should be able to diagnose at a distance some poor individual who is downtrodden and acting out; we expect that they should be able to tell a real gun from an identical replica, and with very little training.
“If society knew how poorly officers are trained, they would never let them do this job.”
The criminal charges filed this week against Mr. Peterson in the Parkland case have injected a whole new potential calculation for officers to work through. Some policing experts said they feared that the threat of prosecution could have the unintended effect of pushing officers to act too quickly.
“Bravery should not be equated with running toward the danger no matter what,” said Maria Haberfeld, an expert on police training at the John Jay College of Criminal Justice in New York. “It really has to be understood and analyzed within the context of everything else that’s going on, and the officer’s discretion.”
“If society knew how poorly officers are trained, they would never let them do this job.”
The criminal charges filed this week against Mr. Peterson in the Parkland case have injected a whole new potential calculation for officers to work through. Some policing experts said they feared that the threat of prosecution could have the unintended effect of pushing officers to act too quickly.
“Bravery should not be equated with running toward the danger no matter what,” said Maria Haberfeld, an expert on police training at the John Jay College of Criminal Justice in New York. “It really has to be understood and analyzed within the context of everything else that’s going on, and the officer’s discretion.”
If the idea of rushing toward gunfire plays to the hero in every officer, the narrative can change dramatically in cases involving claims of excessive force. In those cases, fear, not courage, is an officer’s best defense. Many officers have taken the stand to persuade a jury that they had reasonable cause to be afraid when they fired their weapon, even if in the end it turned out that they had misjudged the situation.
“I was scared to death,” testified Officer Jeronimo Yanez when he was on trial for the death of Philando Castile, a black motorist in Minnesota shot seconds after he told the officer that there was a handgun in the car. “I thought I was going to die.”
Be it heroism or fear or an officer’s safety, police officers often deploy whichever narrative seems to justify the use of force in such situations, Professor Stoughton said.
Officers are not often praised for pausing, instead of firing first, during those uncertain moments when a person being stopped reaches toward his waistband, or when a cellphone looks like a gun. They rarely hear, Professor Stoughton said, “Wow, you were really brave for accepting more risk than I would have.”
He recalled a traffic stop during his time as an officer in which he approached the passenger side of the car and caught sight of what looked to be a gun glinting in the driver’s lap. He raised his own weapon and asked the driver to put his hands on the wheel, then quickly ascertained that what he had seen was actually a Jesus medallion.
Every part of him was on high alert. He was afraid.
“If he had grabbed his medallion, ‘Jesus, help me here,’ I might have — not might have, I would have shot that guy,” he said.
The active shooter training that Mr. Peterson received made it clear how he was supposed to respond. It laid out what the Broward County Sheriff’s Office had identified as the “priorities of life” in descending order: “1) Hostages/victims, 2) innocent bystanders, 3) police/deputies and 4) suspects.”
But some experts say things are not always so clear, and that officers have a duty toward even those they are policing.
“There is continuing tension about what officers should be taught about what to prioritize in situations where they’re confronting someone who seems disturbed and threatening,” said David Alan Sklansky, a former federal prosecutor who teaches criminal law at Stanford University.
“It is part of the job to put yourself in danger to protect other people,” he added. “And I would say it’s also part of the job to put yourself in danger to protect the person that you’re trying to subdue.”
“I was scared to death,” testified Officer Jeronimo Yanez when he was on trial for the death of Philando Castile, a black motorist in Minnesota shot seconds after he told the officer that there was a handgun in the car. “I thought I was going to die.”
Be it heroism or fear or an officer’s safety, police officers often deploy whichever narrative seems to justify the use of force in such situations, Professor Stoughton said.
Officers are not often praised for pausing, instead of firing first, during those uncertain moments when a person being stopped reaches toward his waistband, or when a cellphone looks like a gun. They rarely hear, Professor Stoughton said, “Wow, you were really brave for accepting more risk than I would have.”
He recalled a traffic stop during his time as an officer in which he approached the passenger side of the car and caught sight of what looked to be a gun glinting in the driver’s lap. He raised his own weapon and asked the driver to put his hands on the wheel, then quickly ascertained that what he had seen was actually a Jesus medallion.
Every part of him was on high alert. He was afraid.
“If he had grabbed his medallion, ‘Jesus, help me here,’ I might have — not might have, I would have shot that guy,” he said.
The active shooter training that Mr. Peterson received made it clear how he was supposed to respond. It laid out what the Broward County Sheriff’s Office had identified as the “priorities of life” in descending order: “1) Hostages/victims, 2) innocent bystanders, 3) police/deputies and 4) suspects.”
But some experts say things are not always so clear, and that officers have a duty toward even those they are policing.
“There is continuing tension about what officers should be taught about what to prioritize in situations where they’re confronting someone who seems disturbed and threatening,” said David Alan Sklansky, a former federal prosecutor who teaches criminal law at Stanford University.
“It is part of the job to put yourself in danger to protect other people,” he added. “And I would say it’s also part of the job to put yourself in danger to protect the person that you’re trying to subdue.”
All of us can speculate how we might react if we're sitting in our offices one day and suddenly there are pop-pop-pop sounds that aren't firecrackers and are punctuated by blood-curdling screams. None of us know if we would freeze in place, search for the nearest exit or go all Rambo up in this joint.
But if you're a cop you'd better know how you would react if shit goes crazy because while you're trying to figure it out people are going to be dying and you may be the first while you're mulling it over. It may not be a natural instinct in some cops to run toward the fire like a fearless lion instead of scurrying away like a frightened rabbit, but if you can't do that, you probably should have never been handed a badge and a gun in the first damn place. Ex: Scot Peterson.
There’s a difference between being a coward and a criminal. That’s one reason why the charges against a former Broward County sheriff’s deputy who hid during the Parkland school massacre seem like a stretch. Another is that singling out one person for criminal prosecution paints an inaccurate picture of a systemic breakdown at every level.
Former school resource officer Scot Peterson was arrested Tuesday on 11 charges for failing to enter a building at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School and pursue Nikolas Cruz, who shot and killed 17 in February 2018. Peterson insists he acted properly and was not sure where Cruz was, but an arrest warrant says he “was aware” that Cruz was inside the building and “knowingly and willingly failed to act” to protect those inside. He is charged with seven counts of child neglect, three misdemeanor counts of culpable negligence and one misdemeanor count of perjury for lying during questioning by investigators.
The details alleged in the heavily redacted 41-page arrest affidavit would upset any parent. The affidavit says Peterson “was responsible for the welfare and safety” of the students yet “remained in his position of cover” outside even after hearing gunshots. Authorities said Cruz fired about 140 times, including about 75 times after Peterson arrived outside the building. As Pinellas Sheriff Bob Gualtieri, who chairs the state commission that investigated the shooting, says in more colorful language, that’s unacceptable.
But filing criminal charges against Peterson, who retired shortly after the shooting and now has been officially fired, glosses over a multitude of institutional failures that contributed to the tragedy. The Broward County School District ignored and mishandled Cruz’s behavioral and discipline issues when he was a student. The former student was recognized but not stopped after entering the campus through an unstaffed open gate. The school suffered other key safety gaps, and multiple deputies heard gunfire but did not immediately enter the building. The FBI never investigated several tips about Cruz in the months before the attack.
The multitude of mistakes do not excuse Peterson’s failure to enter the building immediately and go after the shooter. If he lied to investigators, it’s fine to charge him with perjury. But failing to act appropriately or courageously is not the same as acting illegally. Charging law enforcement officials in this way is extremely rare, and it also sends a chilling message to teachers and staff who volunteer to be trained and armed.
The sponsor of this year’s bill that allows classroom teachers to carry guns says armed teachers could be criminally liable if they fail to appropriately respond to an active shooter. This comes after the state has amended the Department of Education’s insurance policy for teachers to exclude coverage for claims arising out of “armed instructional personnel while acting in the scope of their activities for the educational institution.”
Training and arming classroom teachers is a terrible idea on its face. But why would any teacher or staff member volunteer to be trained and armed if they know up front they could be charged with a crime if someone accuses them of failing to properly respond to a shooter in the school — and they won’t even be insured?
It’s intellectually dishonest to single out only the former school resource officer for criminal charges when so many others failed Stoneman Douglas students and staff. It’s further disturbing that teachers and staff who agree to carry guns in schools now face the prospect they could be prosecuted for not rushing a shooter. This is hardly the thoughtful response that the victims’ families and all Floridians deserve.
Former school resource officer Scot Peterson was arrested Tuesday on 11 charges for failing to enter a building at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School and pursue Nikolas Cruz, who shot and killed 17 in February 2018. Peterson insists he acted properly and was not sure where Cruz was, but an arrest warrant says he “was aware” that Cruz was inside the building and “knowingly and willingly failed to act” to protect those inside. He is charged with seven counts of child neglect, three misdemeanor counts of culpable negligence and one misdemeanor count of perjury for lying during questioning by investigators.
The details alleged in the heavily redacted 41-page arrest affidavit would upset any parent. The affidavit says Peterson “was responsible for the welfare and safety” of the students yet “remained in his position of cover” outside even after hearing gunshots. Authorities said Cruz fired about 140 times, including about 75 times after Peterson arrived outside the building. As Pinellas Sheriff Bob Gualtieri, who chairs the state commission that investigated the shooting, says in more colorful language, that’s unacceptable.
But filing criminal charges against Peterson, who retired shortly after the shooting and now has been officially fired, glosses over a multitude of institutional failures that contributed to the tragedy. The Broward County School District ignored and mishandled Cruz’s behavioral and discipline issues when he was a student. The former student was recognized but not stopped after entering the campus through an unstaffed open gate. The school suffered other key safety gaps, and multiple deputies heard gunfire but did not immediately enter the building. The FBI never investigated several tips about Cruz in the months before the attack.
The multitude of mistakes do not excuse Peterson’s failure to enter the building immediately and go after the shooter. If he lied to investigators, it’s fine to charge him with perjury. But failing to act appropriately or courageously is not the same as acting illegally. Charging law enforcement officials in this way is extremely rare, and it also sends a chilling message to teachers and staff who volunteer to be trained and armed.
The sponsor of this year’s bill that allows classroom teachers to carry guns says armed teachers could be criminally liable if they fail to appropriately respond to an active shooter. This comes after the state has amended the Department of Education’s insurance policy for teachers to exclude coverage for claims arising out of “armed instructional personnel while acting in the scope of their activities for the educational institution.”
Training and arming classroom teachers is a terrible idea on its face. But why would any teacher or staff member volunteer to be trained and armed if they know up front they could be charged with a crime if someone accuses them of failing to properly respond to a shooter in the school — and they won’t even be insured?
It’s intellectually dishonest to single out only the former school resource officer for criminal charges when so many others failed Stoneman Douglas students and staff. It’s further disturbing that teachers and staff who agree to carry guns in schools now face the prospect they could be prosecuted for not rushing a shooter. This is hardly the thoughtful response that the victims’ families and all Floridians deserve.
Here are a few other articles about Peterson being made The Fall Guy for Cruz's crimes. Reason. Washington Examiner.
A critical difference between yours and my approach to debate, Cassandra, is that unlike you, I'm not afraid of presenting and considering the other side of the argument. I'm cool with taking the risk that I might be in the minority and I'll allow the possibility I might even wrong. But you have to prove I'm wrong. Just saying it don't make it so. All your haughty dismissive presentation and sophistic deflections reveal is how poorly you fare when you're dealing with someone who plays the game a bit better than you do.
You just make an ass of yourself when you go into these insult-laden rants.
ETA:
As to what the prosecutors here are doing, I strongly suspect they're putting on a show for people like you.
People like me? What kind of people is that? Black people? Don't half-step. Make yourself clear.