Shielded from Justice: Police Brutality and Accountability in the United States
Police abuse remains one of the most serious and divisive human rights violations in the United States. The excessive use of force by police officers, including unjustified shootings, severe beatings, fatal chokings, and rough treatment, persists because overwhelming barriers to accountability make it possible for officers who commit human rights violations to escape due punishment and often to repeat their offenses.1 Police or public officials greet each new report of brutality with denials or explain that the act was an aberration, while the administrative and criminal systems that should deter these abuses by holding officers accountable instead virtually guarantee them impunity.
This report examines common obstacles to accountability for police abuse in fourteen large cities representing most regions of the nation. The cities examined are: Atlanta, Boston, Chicago, Detroit, Indianapolis, Los Angeles, Minneapolis, New Orleans, New York, Philadelphia, Portland, Providence, San Francisco, and Washington, D.C. Research for this report was conducted over two and a half years, from late 1995 through early 1998.
The brutality cases examined, which are set out in detail in chapters on each city, are similar to cases that continue to emerge in headlines and in survivors' complaints. It is important to note, however, that because it is difficult to obtain case information except where there is public scandal and/or prosecution, this reportrelies heavily on cases that have reached public attention; disciplinary action and criminal prosecution are even less common than the cases set out below would suggest.
Our investigation found that police brutality is persistent in all of these cities; that systems to deal with abuse have had similar failings in all the cities; and that, in each city examined, complainants face enormous barriers in seeking administrative punishment or criminal prosecution of officers who have committed human rights violations. Despite claims to the contrary from city officials where abuses have become scandals in the media, efforts to make meaningful reforms have fallen short.
The barriers to accountability are remarkably similar from city to city. Shortcomings in recruitment, training, and management are common to all. So is the fact that officers who repeatedly commit human rights violations tend to be a small minority who taint entire police departments but are protected, routinely, by the silence of their fellow officers and by flawed systems of reporting, oversight, and accountability. Another pervasive shortcoming is the scarcity of meaningful information about trends in abuse; data are also lacking regarding the police departments' response to those incidents and their plans or actions to prevent brutality. Where data do exist, there is no evidence that police administrators or, where relevant, prosecutors, utilize available information in a way to deter abuse.2 Another commonality in recent years is a recognition, in most cities, about what needs to be done to fix troubled departments. However, this encouraging development is coupled with an official unwillingness to deal seriously with officers who commit abuses until high-profile cases expose long-standing negligence or tolerance of brutality.
One recent, positive development has been the federal "pattern or practice" civil investigations, and subsequent agreements, initiated by the U.S. Justice Department.3 In Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and Steubenville, Ohio, the Justice Department's Civil Rights Division has examined shortcomings in accountability for misconduct in those cities' police departments; the cities agreed to implement reforms to end violative practices rather than risk the Justice Department taking a case to court for injunctive action. The reforms proposed by the Justice Department were similar to those long advocated by community activists and civil rights groups, and included better use-of-force training and policies, stronger reporting mechanisms, creation of early warning systems to identify current, and potential, officers at risk of engaging in abuse, and improved disciplinary procedures. The Justice Department does not usually make its investigative choices public, but several other police departments, including those in Los Angeles, New Orleans, New York, and Philadelphia, are reportedly under investigation by the Civil Rights Division.
Police abuse experts, and some police officials, refer to "problem" officers, by which they mean officers who either have significant records of abuse or significant records of complaints from the public, and who thus should receive special monitoring, training and counseling to counter the heightened risk that they will be involved in some future incident of misconduct or brutality. In this report, we will use this terminology where police officials and experts use it, to denote officers who, on account of their record of either sustained or unsustained complaints, appear to present a higher than normal risk of committing human rights violations.
Allegations of police abuse are rife in cities throughout the country and take many forms. This report uses specific incidents as illustrations of the obstacles to deterring, investigating and acting upon perceived abuses. Human Rights Watch is presenting these cases not to accuse any particular officer of an abuse, but rather to describe the barriers that exist to addressing such allegations meaningfully. Any alleged abuse has a corrosive effect on public trust of the police force, and it is imperative that the system be reformed to prevent human rights violations such as those described below.
A seriously flawed background check of a new recruit who had a history of abusive behavior while working for another police department, apparent misuse of pepper spray, and poor investigation procedures were evident in the Aaron Williams case. (See San Francisco chapter for additional details.) Williams died while in the custody of San Francisco police officers after officers subdued him and sprayed him with pepper spray in the Western Edition neighborhood in June 1995. Williams, a burglary suspect, was bound with wrist and ankle cuffs,and according to witnesses was hit and kicked after he was restrained.4 Departmental rules apparently were broken when the officers used pepper spray repeatedly on Williams, who appeared to be high on drugs, and officers did not monitor his breathing as required.5 One of the officers involved in the incident, Marc Andaya, had reportedly been the subject of as many as thirty-five complaints while working with the Oakland police force before being hired by the San Francisco Police Department.6 In Oakland, his supervisor reportedly had urged desk duty for Andaya because of his "cowboy" behavior.7 It is not clear why the San Francisco Police Department hired Andaya in light of his background, but the press reported that Andaya may have given only a partial account of his complaint history and no thorough check was conducted.8 Andaya was accused of neglect of duty and using excessive force, but the city's Police Commission initially deadlocked on the charges (two for, two against, with one police commissioner absent), which was in effect an exoneration. In large part due to community outrage over the Williams case, Andaya was eventually fired for lying about his disciplinary background in his application.9
A record of brutality complaints, inadequate supervision, and the code of silence were illustrated in the Anthony Baez case in New York City. (See New York City chapter for additional details.) Baez, age twenty-nine, was choked to death during an encounter with police Officer Francis X. Livoti on December 22, 1994. Livoti had been the subject of at least eleven brutality complaints over an eleven-year period, including one that was substantiated by the city's civilian review board involving the choking of a sixteen-year-old who was allegedly riding a go-cart recklessly.10 In the Baez case, Livoti was acquitted of criminally negligent homicide in a judge-only trial ending in October 1996. But in finding the prosecution's case unproven, the judge nevertheless criticized conflicting and inconsistent officer testimony, citing a "nest of perjury" within the department.11 Livoti was then prosecuted administratively to ascertain, in part, whether he had broken departmental rules that prohibit applying a chokehold.12 Partially in response to substantial publicity and community outrage over Livoti's behavior, he was fired in February 1997 for breaking departmental rules.
The case of Frank Schmidt in Philadelphia illustrated flawed investigative procedures and lax discipline. (See Philadelphia chapter for additional details.) Officer Christopher Rudy was on duty but reportedly visiting friends and drinking alcohol at a warehouse in November 1993.13 A dispute arose between the warehouse owner and Frank Schmidt, with Schmidt accused of stealing items from the warehouse. Schmidt reportedly told investigators that the warehouse gates were locked behind him, a gun was put to his head, and he was beaten as Officer Rudy watched and poured beer over Schmidt's head. Throughout the ordeal, the warehouse owner reportedly threatened to cut off Schmidt's hands with a knife and to have warehouse workers rape him. Schmidt reported the incident to the police, but Rudy was not questioned for seven months and then denied everything. Rudy reportedly received a twelve-day suspension for failing to take police action and for conduct unbecoming a police officer; he was returned to active duty .14
Lax oversight and the failure to act quickly to dismiss an abusive officer while he was still on probation were evident in Minneapolis. (See Minneapolis chapter for additional details.) Officer Michael Ray Parent was convicted in state court of kidnaping and raping a woman in his squad car and was sentenced to four years in prison in April 1995. In the early morning hours of August 5, 1994, Officer Parent stopped and questioned the woman. She acknowledged she had been drinking, and he put her in the back seat of his squad car and told her she was under arrest for driving under the influence of alcohol. He then forced her to have oral sex with him. After the incident was reported, investigators found several prior complaints about Parent involving inappropriate sexual conduct while on duty, even though he had been on the force for only a year and a half before the August 1994 incident; he had been accused of a sexual incident during his probationary period on the force, when dismissals are much easier.15
Despite a civil jury trial leading to one of Indianapolis's largest awards following a judgment against an officer who fatally shot a burglary suspect, the officer remains on the force. (See Indianapolis chapter for additional details.) Officer Wayne Sharp, who is white, shot and killed Edmund Powell, who was black, in June 1991.16 Sharp, a veteran officer, claimed the shooting was accidental and that Powell had swung a nail-studded board at him, yet according to at least one witness, Powell was on the ground and had apparently surrendered when he was shot.17 According to witnesses, Powell allegedly stole something from a department store, and Sharp chased him into an alley with his gun drawn. The Marion County prosecutor brought the case before a grand jury, and it declined to indict Sharp on any criminal charges. Community activists claimed that the shooting was racially motivated; Sharp had killed a black burglary suspect ten years earlier and a grand jury had declined to indict him. At that time, Sharp reportedly was removed from street duty because of his "flirtation" with the National Socialist White People's Party, a neo-Nazi group.18 Powell's grandmother, Gertrude Jackson, alleging Sharp intentionally shot Powell, filed a civil lawsuit in 1992; the jury found in favor of Jackson and awarded $465,000 to Powell's family.19 The city had not paid Jackson as of September 1997, and the status of any appeal was unclear.20 Despite his history, Sharp was still on duty as of mid-1997 and according to the police chief there has received "high accolades and several awards for superior work."21
A ranking New Orleans officer who himself was responsible for enforcing internal rules had a long history of abuse complaints, some sustained, but was only dismissed after he was convicted of a crime. (See New Orleans chapter for additional details.) Lieutenant Christopher Maurice was the subject of more than a dozen discourtesy and brutality complaints before being charged and convicted on two counts of simple battery in November 1995 (and fired two weeks later). The charges stemmed from a June 1994 incident in which Lt. Maurice allegedly slammed the head of radio personality Richard Blake (knownas Robert Sandifer) against the police car's hood.22 Just after this encounter, Maurice was found in violation of department rules for getting into an argument and nearly a fistfight with a fellow officer during ethics training in early 1994. Also in June 1994, Maurice was served a warrant for another battery charge in St. Tammany Parish. Prior to the 1994 incidents, he had been suspended once (allegedly for brandishing his gun at a neighbor) and reprimanded twice since 1985, according to his civil service records. In a 1991 civil suit, the city paid a $25,000 settlement to a man who claimed that Maurice had hit him in the head with his police radio. Despite this record, Maurice was the commander in charge of enforcing the internal rules of the department. The city's citizen review agency (an external monitoring office) reportedly investigated several of the complaints against Maurice but did not uphold any of them as valid.
Human Rights Watch recognizes that police officers, like other people, will make mistakes when they are under pressure to make split-second decisions regarding the use of force. Even the best recruiting, training, and command oversight will not result in flawless behavior on the part of all officers. Furthermore, we recognize that policing in the United States is a dangerous job. During 1996, 116 officers died while on duty nationwide (from all causes - shootings, assaults, accidents, and natural causes).23 Yet, precisely because police officers can make mistakes, or allow personal bias or emotion to enter into policing - and because they are allowed, as a last resort, to use potentially lethal force to subdue individuals they apprehend - police must be subjected to intense scrutiny.24
The abuses described in this report are preventable. Officers with long records of abuse, policies that are overly vague, training that is substandard, and screening that is inadequate all create opportunities for abuse. Perhaps most important, and consistently lacking, is a system of oversight in which supervisors hold their charges accountable for mistreatment and are themselves reviewed and evaluated, in part, by how they deal with subordinate officers who commit human rights violations. Those who claim that each high-profile case of abuse by a "rogue" officer is an aberration are missing the point: problem officers frequently persist because the accountability systems are so seriously flawed.
Police, state, and federal authorities are responsible for holding police officers accountable for abusive or arbitrary acts.25 Police officials must ensure that police officers are punished when they violate administrative rules, while state and federal prosecutors must prosecute criminal acts committed by officers, and where appropriate, complicity by their superior officers.26 Each of these entities apply different standards when reviewing officer responsibility for an alleged abuse.27 All of these authorities have an obligation to ensure that the conduct of police officersmeets international standards that prohibit human rights violations and that, in general, the U.S. complies with the obligations imposed by those treaties to which it is a party. While only the federal government is responsible for reporting internationally on U.S. compliance with the relevant treaties, local and state officials share responsibility for ensuring compliance within their jurisdictions.28
For all we know, it could stand for "FANTASTICALLY BRAINY."
