How Do Bad Cops Stay in Power? Just Look at Miami. - POLITICO
This was an interesting article about how police departments and local governments handle the problem of bad cops with multiple complaints against them, claiming that their hands are tied due to protection clauses and other provisions pushed through by police unions.
It also speaks about a "Law Enforcement Bill of Rights" which is in effect in 21 states.
It's a long article, but illustrates the problems with getting the so-called "bad apples" out of the barrel. Police always say it's "just a few bad apples" and that most cops are good, but how can they say that when the system obviously is rigged to protect the bad apples, whose only real purpose is to stink up the barrel?
This was an interesting article about how police departments and local governments handle the problem of bad cops with multiple complaints against them, claiming that their hands are tied due to protection clauses and other provisions pushed through by police unions.
It also speaks about a "Law Enforcement Bill of Rights" which is in effect in 21 states.
In a police department with a history of brutality, Captain Javier Ortiz holds a special distinction as Miami’s least-fireable man with a badge, a gun and a staggering history of citizen complaints for beatings, false arrests and bullying.
Over his 17 years on the job — including eight as the union president of the Fraternal Order of Police in South Florida — 49 people have complained about him to Internal Affairs as he amassed 19 official use-of-force incidents, $600,000 in lawsuit settlements and a book’s worth of terrible headlines related to his record and his racially inflammatory social media posts, many of which attacked alleged victims of police violence.
Yet Ortiz has repeatedly beaten back attempts to discipline him. He returned to work in March from a yearlong paid suspension during which state and federal investigators examined whether he “engaged in a pattern of abuse and bias against minorities, particularly African Americans … [and] has been known for cyber-stalking and doxing civilians who question his authority or file complaints against him.” The investigation was launched after three Miami police sergeants accused him of abusing his position and said the department had repeatedly botched investigations into him.
But investigators concluded their hands were tied because 13 of the 19 use-of-force complaints were beyond the five-year statute of limitations, and the others lacked enough hard evidence beyond the assertions of the alleged victims. The findings underscored a truism in many urban police departments: The most troublesome cops are so insulated by protective union contracts and laws passed by politicians who are eager to advertise their law-and-order bona fides that removing them is nearly impossible — even when their own colleagues are witnesses against them.
The story of Ortiz shows the steep public costs of the way elected officials of both parties use the police to keep themselves covered politically: They can demand justice for victims after especially egregious acts of brutality, even while they support contracts and laws that protect officers accused of abuse. They can soothe the victims and at the same time enjoy the benefits of supportive police unions.
Ortiz’s reinstatement in March was no surprise to the many people in Miami who have watched him escape any meaningful punishment for years.
“I’ve known Javi for 15 years. One thing I realized: Wherever he is, you want to be nowhere near him. He’s done nefarious things,” says Miami Police Lt. Jermaine Douglas, who once starred in the true-crime TV series “The First 48,” and more recently accused Ortiz of unfairly disciplining him, a complaint that was upheld by a civilian investigative panel.
“Javi is a bad cop protected by bad leaders,” adds Douglas. “You can say it’s a bad system. The system itself is broken. But at some point, you have managers and leadership above him who are supposed to tame that, to address that.”
But the bosses have claimed there’s little they can do, either.
As a police officer with an encyclopedic knowledge of labor law and grievance procedures, Ortiz shielded himself over the years with the extensive protections woven into the local union’s collective bargaining agreement and Florida’s “Law Enforcement Officers’ Bill of Rights,” a police-friendly law that passed decades ago and has been continuously beefed up with bipartisan support. He has also availed himself of a controversial judicial doctrine, called qualified immunity, which shields police from certain forms of liability.
Among the special provisions that have made policing Florida’s police so difficult is a rule in the bill of rights that says all investigations must be wrapped up in 180 days. Critics say the rule is a vehicle for sympathetic colleagues to protect an officer simply by dragging their feet. In its review of Ortiz, the Florida Department of Law Enforcement reported that between 2013 and 2018 seven citizen complaints against him were voided because the department failed to finish investigating within the prescribed time limit.
An even more significant obstacle in the bill of rights is a rule that officers must be shown all evidence against them before they are interviewed about complaints — a right that isn’t afforded to civilians and that flies in the face of normal investigative techniques. It allows officers to tailor their responses to the evidence, avoid being caught in lies and even, says former Miami police chief Art Acevedo, “interfere with the investigation or retaliate” against witnesses.
Upon taking over the department last March, Acevedo reviewed Ortiz’s record and determined that the rules protected him. “Unfortunately — and fortunately for him [Ortiz] — I could take no action,” Acevedo says.
Instead, it was Acevedo, who once received national attention as the Houston police chief when he walked alongside Black Lives Matter protesters, who got fired Oct. 11 by the city manager after a spate of alleged offenses including making an insensitive comment about “Cuban mafia” in heavily Cuban Miami.
Now, the new acting chief, Manny Morales, is telling City Hall insiders that Ortiz has to go — not because of his interactions with the public, but due to his repeated run-ins with other officers on the 1,300-member force.
On Thursday, Morales once again suspended Ortiz with pay — his third time.
But even if Morales decides to fire Ortiz, that might not be the end of the story. A union provision allows officers to ultimately appeal their firings to an outside arbitrator who must be approved jointly by the union and management. Since arbitrators must satisfy management and the union in order to get future appointments, they try hard to show their concern for both sides, overturning a significant percentage of cases, according to critics of the process.
Ortiz has never benefited from this provision directly, but one former chief, Jorge Colina, told POLITICO that the arbitration clause and other cop protections made him “gun shy” about going after Ortiz and others.
Ortiz declined to comment for this story. But one of Ortiz’s lawyers and friends, Rick Diaz, said his client is a man of deep integrity who adheres to an older code of no-nonsense lawmen.
“Ortiz is policing in the past. I think it’s the best way to describe Ortiz,” Diaz says. “He’s policing with an attitude of zero tolerance, strong law-enforcement attitudes in an environment that no longer will tolerate that kind of zero tolerance. And as a result of that, you are butting heads with complaints. You’re butting heads with colleagues. You’re butting heads with supervisors. You’re butting heads with the media. You’re butting heads with judges. You’re butting heads with Internal Affairs.”
While the volume of complaints against Ortiz is large, Diaz emphasized that Ortiz’s official record is clean and he has received just two reprimands for “minor infractions” years ago.
The head of the state’s Fraternal Order of Police, Bobby Jenkins, wouldn’t comment on the specifics of the complaints against Ortiz but said the criticisms about union contracts, the police bill of rights and federal qualified immunity are “incorrect.”
“They fire people all the time. Some get their jobs back. Some don’t. If they didn’t fire him [Ortiz], it means they didn’t have enough to fire him,” Jenkins says. “The reason the police officers’ bill of rights came about was because police officers weren’t given rights like everyone else. You’re entitled to see evidence before you. They can’t lie and tell you it’s there when it’s not there. That’s what it really boils down to.”
But the sheer volume of complaints against the 42-year-old Ortiz tells a different story. Records from the Miami police, Florida Department of Law Enforcement and lawsuits show that those who complained that Ortiz brutalized or harassed them run the gamut: a teacher, a college student, bar patrons, motorists, a maintenance worker installing electrical lines, a drone operator and even two National Football League players arrested at different times in different incidents. In one of Ortiz’s early headline-grabbing cases, he wound up pulling his gun on a trespassing animal rights activist trying to free a pilot whale.
In most cases, people reported being falsely arrested, roughed up or retaliated against for videotaping police or threatening to file complaints. One man reported having his eye socket cracked in a beatdown Ortiz initiated. A woman in another Ortiz arrest said her wrist was broken. Yet another woman claimed she was flung down an escalator outside a bar. Another man reported having nerve loss from overly tight handcuffs.
Throughout, Ortiz never wore or was required to wear a body camera (he agreed to that only this summer), so when citizens complained, it was often their word against Ortiz’s.
Meanwhile, his superiors consistently gave him “satisfactory” job-review ratings in the categories of “use of force” and “contact with the public,” according to employment records.
But Ortiz’s record stands out sharply compared with those of his peers. The 49 citizen complaints against him are 2½ times more than the combined complaints against the department’s four other captains. Those other captains also have a combined 16 use of force incidents on their records, three fewer than the 19 on Ortiz’s record.
It's a long article, but illustrates the problems with getting the so-called "bad apples" out of the barrel. Police always say it's "just a few bad apples" and that most cops are good, but how can they say that when the system obviously is rigged to protect the bad apples, whose only real purpose is to stink up the barrel?