Reparative Justice

Assembling on the Mountainside where James Boyd was Executed

James Boyd was executed on March 16, 2014 behind the large rocks in the left of the picture. He'd made a makeshift campsite out of the view of people living down the hill or of most hikers who would mostly follow a trail on the left and go around the rock formation on their way up higher in the Sandias.

His campsite was his home. A home in the midst of extraordinary desert beauty, the sort of thing that captivates those of us who live in New Mexico, filled as it is with a wonderful, harsh majesty. Here in the Sandias, on the west face of the mountains from James Boyds' home-place/campsite, the view stretches gloriously for miles, over the dusty and gritty city of Albuquerque "all the way to California." Well, not quite that far, but plenty far, to Mt. Taylor, sacred to the Diné People, some eighty miles away.

I wanted to visit the site to pay my respects, but the hike was a bit too much for me. I have to content myself with the view up the hill, and the moving memorial service presented last night in a small clearing down below, just to the left, out of view in the picture.

About 50 people, not counting media, but including James Boyd's brother, attended last night's 3 Month Memorial to honor the memory of the man whose friends called "Abba." Those who knew him declared him to be a gentle, creative soul whose difficulties in life were due to a condition over which he had no control, and for which he received scant treatment. As one of the speakers, a legislator on the State Behavioral Health subcommittee, pointed out, in New Mexico -- as in many other places -- the most extensive "mental health care facilities" are the jails.

James Boyd's death didn't have to happen and it might not have happened had there been some means or someone available to intervene that tragic day in March when he was shot to death for being... different and difficult. There will be other rationales, there always are, for his summary execution on the hillside, but the main reasons, as is so often the case, were his difference and the difficulty of dealing with him through persuasion and threat.

One woman, whose name I didn't get, said she knew "Abba" casually, that she had met him one evening when she took her daughter up near his campsite "to see the stars" and he had greeted them with dignity and interest, and he had urged their caution up in the hills. She said she came to know something of his situation, and she could empathize because there was someone in her family who suffered schizophrenia, someone who, like "Abba" wished to harm no one, but only wanted the peace of solitude and the sky overhead and open country all around. She said she wished someone had known to call her when the confrontation that led to his death took place, for she would have gladly intervened and might have been able to prevent his death. She broke down in tears telling her story, as did many others. This affront to the conscience and the dignity of all of us did not have to happen.

But it did, and the consequences have reverberated around the world.

The consequences for Albuquerque and New Mexico have been severe. There are sporadic boycotts of the state's tourist industry, people refusing to vacation in New Mexico or to visit Albuquerque, people who express fear of what might happen to them if by some unfortunate chance or fate they are confronted by the local constabulary. There have been so many stories, and so many outrages, in many parts of New Mexico. The seemingly out of control police are part of New Mexico's lore and legend these days, and the sense that their potential for the arbitrary imposition of authority and use of deadly force to compel compliance, whether warranted or not, seems to be pervasive.

It's been said that police are not nearly as violent and deadly now as they once were, even with all the shootings of suspects that occur with such gut-wrenching regularity. No, it was worse in the past they say, and there was much more crime as well, but we forget. We see and hear of the nearly constant abuse and gunfire by police and we assume it's worse now than ever. Local news, especially, is focused, laser-like, on every report of crime, so it sometimes seems like we're swamped in a sea of criminality, and many fear they will become the victims of random criminals they just know are lying in wait for them. Crime statistics don't bear it out; violent crime is at the lowest point in generations, and the likelihood of any random individual being the victim of a violent criminal is slight. It's not as slight, though, as the chance of a police officer being killed or wounded by one of these criminals. Police officers are rarely killed or injured on the job, making police work one of the safest professions.

The police did not have to kill James Boyd, they didn't have to confront him with high-powered rifles pointed at his face, they didn't have to marshal a dozen or more officers in bullet-proof vests (oddly, few of the officers who confronted Boyd were uniformed; it's puzzled me from the get go.) They didn't have to have their dogs, their flash-bangs, their bean-bag rounds and their shotguns to fire them.)  None of it was necessary. James Boyd wasn't harming anyone and was not about to harm anyone. If it was necessary to get him off the mountain because he was camping illegally, practically anyone with a lick of sense and even modest skills at dealing with the homeless mentally ill in a non-threatening and non-confrontational manner might have been able to do it.

The police could not. They had neither the skills nor the desire. Instead, they precipitated and escalated a confrontation, making the situation much more threatening and frightening for Boyd than it should have been, and when Mr. Boyd finally agreed to go with them down the mountain, even though he feared for his life, someone had already given the order to execute him. As he gathered a few of his things and began to comply, he was subjected to a flash-bang grenade and a barking, snapping police dog, and as he turned away in fear, he was shot repeatedly by two officers with high powered rifles, shot in the back, shot in the arms, paralyzed. He fell, unable to move, and the dog bit him in the legs. He was shot three more times in the buttocks with bean bag rounds, and he was ordered to "drop the knives" even though he could no longer move his arms, and even though he was mortally wounded in the torso. The wounds of a suspect do not matter to police attempting to secure a scene. The wounded suspect must comply with commands even when unable to do so. The suspect is considered armed and dangerous, no matter his or her wounds, until and unless control over the suspect is complete. If the suspect bleeds out and dies, oh well. Too bad, so sad.

Police almost never express official repentance under these circumstances, though some are privately mortified and devastated. What happened to James "Abba" Boyd at that gorgeous site in the Sandia foothills that afternoon in March was a terrible thing, unconscionable any way you look at it, and many of those who spoke at his memorial last night wanted to ensure that his death was not in vain. They called out for justice, true, but for justice that made life better for others, not for revenge.

They didn't use the term but they were calling for Reparative or Restorative Justice. It couldn't bring back James Boyd, but if it could be done at all, it would honor his memory through the good works that could be done for others in his name.

The police did a terrible thing, an unconscionable thing, when they shot and killed James Boyd on March 16, 2014, and surely some of them understand -- in the abstract -- that what they did was "wrong." They're trained not to take responsibility for their actions, so it's quite possible that those who shot Boyd or fired grenades or loosed their dog on him have no sense of remorse and take no responsibility for their actions. They are inculcated with the belief that the victim is always to blame, that the police were only there to enforce the law, protect the peace.

Reparative justice usually isn't applied in cases of such violence. Its practitioners see it as a way to deal with minor and social crimes and affronts rather than with major incidents like this. It's much like the way I was trained in conflict resolution: CR is not an appropriate means of dealing with violent conflicts or acts of war. I thought at the time that this was an artificial and unnecessary restriction on the use of a valuable tactic for resolving conflict, and I wondered why practitioners were so reluctant. But that's a separate issue.

In the current situation of seemingly out of control police violence, such as the death of James Boyd, I kept thinking back to the efforts in Sacramento I was involved in almost 20 years ago to curb police brutality and change police culture from one a predatory and violent gang-like mentality and approach to their job to one of cooperation and commitment to dignity, justice, community and peace.

It was a big challenge, and the community came together in unexpected ways to ensure the challenge was met. It was met in part by a commitment to repairing damaged or forgotten relationships, to restoring trust, and to building community rather than destroying it.

Restorative justice, in other words, though the term wasn't used. The police weren't forced to admit wrong-doing, but they changed their ways. The public wasn't forced to submit unduly to police command, but they came to respect the police more and to cooperate with them to make a better community.

Complaints against police and the incidents of brutality and misconduct were reduced dramatically. Complaints were cut in half or more than that, and the incidents of police officers killing suspects or innocent bystanders were reduced to -- in some years -- zero.

It was a remarkable achievement. It took years, but it was done. It still needs work. Throughout the process of reforming the Sacramento Police Department, a parallel process was attempted with the county sheriff's department without much success. The sheriff was in charge of the jail and his deputies were charged with law enforcement outside the city limits, and they had developed an unrepentant and independent culture that included a good deal of "physical persuasion" that caused more than a few injuries and periodic deaths.

However, in recent years, a new sheriff, a man of considerable achievement, and I believe a man of honesty and good will, has set the department on a new path that is more in line with the practices of the city police department. Whether he will succeed, I don't know, but I know he's trying.

Albuquerque's situation is much more bloody to start with. Complaints in Sacramento focused on police brutality -- beatings, home invasions, false arrests and so on -- meant to intimidate and terrify residents, but rarely involving police killing suspects. It happened, but it was relatively rare. As I recall, a more frequent problem was police running down pedestrians and bystanders in their high-speed efforts to chase suspects or get to crime scenes. That, too, changed.

But in Albuquerque, the police are notorious not just for brutality but for numerous public, summary executions. They kill. They kill with appalling frequency and with more or less complete impunity. They are not charged, they are not even held to account, and some officers on the beat have more than one killing to their credit. Some are valued for their skills at killing. Their killing devastates families, disrupts and destroys communities, and it has brought scrutiny and disrepute to the city. The execution of James Boyd wasn't the last straw by any means, but it became the catalyst for upheaval and change.

What would reparative or restorative look like in this situation? I've only thought about it superficially, so what follows is sketchy at best, but it may be a starting point for further exploration.

There's a necessary pre-condition: an acknowledgement that the killing of James Boyd was wrong. There have been many previous financial settlements and court awards for previous killings by APD, and there is a suit for damages in process on behalf of James' family. Typically, the police and city do not admit wrongdoing, but they agree to pay substantial settlements to survivors nonetheless. These settlements and judgements, however, are not "reparative." They are acknowledgements of loss.

In a reparative system, once there is an acknowledgement of wrong, steps can be taken to repair the consequences, to set right what was wrong. I would look at the situation and suggest that part of setting right the wrong that was done would involve disarming every one of the officers who were part of the confrontation with James Boyd, and permanently disarming the ones who shot him as well as those who fired grenades and bean-bags. They may have been following protocol, but it was a wrong protocol under the circumstances, and they didn't think through what they were doing. They are not robots. They could have refrained and they could have restrained their colleagues. They didn't.

Thus they should not have access to weapons in the future, as they've shown they cannot use them responsibly in appropriate circumstances, circumstances which should be vanishingly rare in any case.

Not only should every officer involved in the confrontation be disarmed, and those who fired on Boyd in any way or shot and killed Boyd should be disarmed permanently, but their commanders and supervisors should be removed for cause: they didn't act responsibly, and they didn't provide the officers under their command with appropriate guidance and tools to do their jobs. We're not sure exactly who was in command, but those who were hold the ultimate responsibility for what happened to James Boyd, and if they were honorable, they would have resigned in shame. Since, so far as we know, they have not done so, they will have to be publicly identified and removed by other means.

Once those important steps are taken, the repairs can begin. We can think of what needs to be done. One thing that was mentioned at "Abba's" memorial was that he wasn't forced to live in the hills, he was there because he wanted to be there, because he loved being outdoors and he loved the Sandia foothills. He didn't want to bother anyone, he just wanted to feel independent and free. And yet someone who lives just down the hill from where Boyd was camping complained to the police, apparently calling several times after the police initially did nothing or didn't follow up.

This person needs to understand that his actions led directly to the death of someone who wasn't harming him or anyone else. Boyd may have been in violation of the camping regulations, but he was not a threat, nor was he intentionally causing any harm.

But the man who called police to complain of someone camping illegally in the foothills probably believed he had no alternative, that calling the police was the proper thing to do. And he probably had no intention at all that James Boyd would be killed as a consequence. So many people are killed by police because someone thought that the proper thing to do was to call the police to intervene or to help a loved one in distress. I've often said, "Don't call 911 in those cases unless it is clearly and obviously a medical emergency. Your loved one is likely to be killed, not helped otherwise."

The American 911 system does not provide "help" in too many situations. For whatever reason, many Americans believe it does -- or it should -- without the use of deadly force. And many Americans believe there is no alternative to calling 911; in many cases, they're right.

So part of reparative justice in this case must be the provision of alternatives. Camping illegally should not be subject to the death penalty, no matter how annoying the camper might be. Nor should a death squad be sent to deal with an illegal camper. Where were the alternatives? The resident who called felt he had none, the 911 dispatcher felt there was no alternative, the police felt they had none. Why? Why was the only option to send a literal death squad to root out this (terrorist?) camper?

What would have happened if someone skilled at dealing with mentally ill and homeless populations had been dispatched instead? James "Abba" Boyd was well known in the homeless community, he was well liked, even admired. Many, many people knew him and any of them might have been able to talk to him that day and help him to understand why his camping there was a problem and if there had been an acceptable alternative available for Boyd, they might well have been able to convince him to give up that campsite. But they didn't know till after he was dead that there was a problem they might have been able to alleviate.

On the other hand, what harm, really, was Boyd doing, apart from violating the regulations on camping? His camp was out of sight, it was well-cared for, it was his little bit of nature, and according to some who met him, he was acting as an informal host to those who came up the mountain. Who or what was he harming? No one and nothing, as far as I can see.

What would have happened if he had not only been allowed to stay, but he was given an informal position as a kind of host to those traveling that trail? What harm would be done? What joy might he have had, and how much might he have been able to share with hikers?

These are the kinds of alternatives that need to be built in to potential or real crisis situations. And these are the kinds of alternatives that can repair communities, can build and strengthen bonds and trust. These are very simple alternatives, sane and direct. They don't require massive bureaucracies and formal procedures. They're common sense.

Common sense? The preferred alternative, no?


Reparative justice of course involves a great deal more than these few suggestions. Repairing the harm done to Albuquerque's citizens by the police will take many efforts by many people of good will. There is a great deal of anguish to overcome. Many of the wounds are still fresh, and for some, they can never heal. But the efforts must be made, and what I saw and heard last night convinced me that the community is ready and willing. The question is whether the police and city administration are.
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Some news reports to add to the mix:

KOB

KRQE

Albuquerque Journal

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Andrew Jones, "Abba's" brother, honor's James Boyd's memory"

De-Legitimizing Authority and Reparative Justice

Albuquerque -- indeed, much of New Mexico -- has been going through a social and political crisis over the issue of the police use of firearms in so many confrontations with residents. There have been dozens of deaths in Albuquerque due to police gunfire. and about twice the number of those who have died have been wounded by police. No police officers have been killed by gunfire in Albuquerque since 2005, and only a handful have been wounded in such confrontations.

Statistics are similar in the rest of New Mexico.  Despite the fact that police declare themselves to be at such risk from the public at all times and in every way imaginable, and how their lives depend on their split-second decisions -- which often result in the deaths of residents -- police work is actually quite safe compared to most other professions, and residents are not shooting cops, nor are they trying to in any significant numbers.

It's quite the other way around. Police have taken to stalking residents, like Mary Hawkes, and gunning them down based on the suspect's non-compliance or attitude, and their perception that the suspect might be carrying or holding a weapon (let's say a gun, but it could be anything) and is a potential threat at some point in the future, either to the officer or to someone else... The officer who killed Mary Hawkes, for example, claimed that she "pointed a gun" at him -- and that's why he shot her to death, but many of those who knew Mary Hawkes say the story told by the officer is unlikely to be true, there is no video back up of the officer's story (somehow the video camera he wore and was supposed to turn on during his encounter with Mary Hawkes recorded nothing), and the gun he said she pointed at him was suspicious in and of itself, as it was not noted in first-responder videos of the scene, and it seemed to "appear" in the scene and move around quite a bit before being retrieved by investigators. Also, when the police chief held a news conference to justify the killing to the public, instead of the gun they said she had and which was recovered at the scene, he held up another gun, which he said was like the gun recovered at the scene. Close enough, eh? It was bizarre.

Many people suspect the gun Mary Hawkes supposedly had when she was shot and killed was a "throw-down," a weapon of convenience supplied by police to justify the killing, and the showing of a gun like the gun recovered at the scene was highly evocative of that practice. As there is no corroborating evidence, only the word of the officer involved, there's is no way to be sure, and the police like it that way. It allows for impunity, and impunity is something police seem to think is their right.

But impunity for anyone, but especially for those in positions of authority, is corrosive to society and leads to breakdown in social trust and cohesion. Ultimately, the breakdown of trust leads to the de-legitimization of authority.

Albuquerque is at that point now. The entire system of civic authority is under intense scrutiny and strain, and important parts of it have been de-legitimized in the eyes of a growing number of residents. The police are seen by many as an alien and militarized occupying force, out of control and running wild, threatening, brutalizing and killing with complete impunity. The city's governing and legal authorities -- the mayor and city council, the city administrator, the district attorney, the city attorney, and the police chief -- have faced numerous complaints about their disinterest (shall we say) in justice, and their unwavering support (well...) of police no matter what they do -- at least until recently -- and so, in turn, their authority has been de-legitimized in the eyes of many residents.

A growing community of activists have taken it upon themselves to help ensure that this process of de-legitimization of authority continues and is highlighted in the press and media, utilizing many well-known non-violent resistance and civil disobedience tactics. There have been many large and small demonstrations against police misconduct, many disruptions of the routines of power, many calls for justice and reform, many memorials for the dead, many pleas for redress of grievance.

Until very recently, the city and police administration were simply immune to any of this, indeed behaved as if it weren't happening at all, and city officials ostentatiously ignored the pleas of hurt and outraged residents. Even as tens of millions of dollars were paid out to victims and survivors of an out of control police force, the city maintained its disinterest in justice and denial of justice for those who had long been suffering at the hands of a militarized and deadly police force. 

As has been pointed out many times, complaints about police misconduct and routine shootings and killings have been piling up for many years, and apart from paying out tens of millions of dollars in settlements and court awards, the city made few and mostly futile efforts to reform and restrain policing. Many recommendations were made, some were adopted, few made any difference in the rate of killing and abuse by police.

Something more, and something else was needed.

A higher authority has stepped in. The Department of Justice civil rights division investigated and issued a scathing report in April of this year which found in essence that the Albuquerque Police Department has long engaged in a pattern and practice of "unconstitutional policing," and which cited the almost arbitrary use of weapons -- including gunfire -- against residents with no justification. It was a devastating report highlighting some of the worst abuses police engage in.

Its findings and recommendations became the basis for further demonstrations and de-legitimization of authority.

At least temporarily, the rate of killing seemed to increase, as if the police were in defiance of an authority greater than themselves. There has been no video evidence of any police killing in Albuquerque -- at least none released -- since the killing of James Boyd on March 16 which caused an international uproar.

That video showed a mentally ill homeless man, suspected of nothing more than illegal camping, confronted by a dozen or more heavily armed and threatening police who point high powered rifles at him throughout the confrontation, threatening him if he does not surrender, ordering him to obey, though he is terrified for his life under the circumstances, and believes he's done nothing to warrant this kind of over-reaction by the police. Eventually he agrees to surrender, and as he is doing so, a flash-bang grenade is fired at him, a police dog is loosed on him, and as he turns away to try to protect himself, two officers fire their rifles at him. Three bullets strike him; he falls, paralyzed, the dog bites him repeatedly, and three bean-bag round are fired at him from close range. He can't move, and yet he is repeatedly ordered to "drop the knives!!!" -- but both arms are essentially paralyzed from police gunfire, and he has a mortal wound in his torso. He physically can't comply. It matters not at all to the police who are only concerned with gaining his compliance -- whether or not he is capable of doing as commanded.

The video of this appalling incident was released by the police chief who sincerely believed it exonerated the police and provided justification for the killing. The public thought otherwise. International condemnation and revulsion soon followed. The police believed that because Boyd had two small knives in his possession at the time he was killed ("executed" has become a commonly used term) shooting him as he was turning away from their dog and a flash-bang grenade  was justified. He had... knives... and thus he was seen as an immanent and mortal threat to police, even though he had been trying to surrender up to the moment that the police fired the grenade and loosed the dog.

This was insane.

The police said that during the hours long confrontation, he had repeatedly threatened them, though he had no way to carry out his threats, and it was obvious to anyone with a lick of sense that he was pretty well out of his mind. He was never a serious threat to the officers or to anyone else, not even to himself.

Yet they killed him because they were afraid he might be a threat at some point.

Apparently, they figured that he was the greatest threat to them as he was surrendering, so they made a "split-second decision" -- police decisions are always "split-second" ones even in an hours-long confrontation like this one -- to execute Boyd so that he wouldn't become an actual threat to their safety.

In essence, they tricked him into surrendering so that they could kill him.

And initially, the police chief saw nothing wrong with it. No. Instead, the killing of James Boyd was justified in his mind because... ?

Because it never made sense to most of those who saw the video, the condemnation from around the world was swift and severe. Boyd had literally done nothing to warrant his execution, not by any sane standard, and the fact that the police chief claimed his killing was justified merely showed how very far off the rails our nation's policing culture -- and Albuquerque's police -- have gone.

This was not the first instance that people have seen for themselves what tragic consequences have come from a police culture focused on something other than their core mission -- supposedly to protect and serve. But an obvious question arises: protect and serve whom?

Not people like James Boyd, obviously. Not people like Mary Hawkes. We could go on and on and on and on naming the names of people who are not protected and not served by the police, and maybe we should do that, because when it comes down to it, the police protect and serve a very small fraction of the population. They prey on and sometimes kill everyone else.

This is nothing less than the Third World standard of policing. And for reasons of history and culture, this standard is most apparent in New Mexico and particularly in Albuquerque.

De-legitimizing this form of authority is necessary in order to change it. Authority will fight, as APD and the city administration are doing, even while making the pretense of compliance with an authority greater than themselves.

They are making cosmetic rather than substantive changes in order to appear to comply, much as the city administration and the police department of Oakland has been doing for more than a decade. They refuse to change their fundamental practices, practices which include the deliberate use of police violence against targeted populations and the protection of wealth and power at the expense of dignity and justice for everyone else.

The fight becomes more intense as authority is more and more de-legitimized. Typically, if nothing is prepared to take the place of a de-legitimized authority, the situation reverts to whatever the status quo ante was (this happened in Oakland), and progress is reversed, halted, or hamstrung, while lines and processes of authority are re-established. A cycle may then be established in which there is a constant circling of a point, but never a resolution.

The resolution, in my view, comes with the commitment to reparative or restorative justice.

I'll do another post on the process we went through in Sacramento for dealing with a police force that had become a danger to the public and how some important but modest reforms changed the way the police interacted with the public and the public responded to the police. The situation in Sacramento was not as bloody as it has been in Albuquerque, but the dynamics were very similar.