It happens that I wrote one of my last papers at Fordham on how television representations of police allow for the continuation of harmful practices by real world police. I thought I would post it here in case it helps shed some light on one aspect/cause of the current crisis the country is facing:
Cop Shows Through the Decades: Pro-police Propaganda or Critique of the Criminal Justice System?
The evolution and change seen in television shows about police illustrates trends in both the history of the television medium and the American political consciousness. When the country was still dominated by conservative, white-centric values and perspectives police were presented by the media as mostly infallible guardians of civil society. NBC’s Dragnet, which began airing in 1951 and is seen as a defining example of the genre, demonstrated this with its pro-police messaging, which it claimed was simply “factual.” Decades later NBC would again debut watershed works in the genre with its Law and Order franchise, but these series, starting with the original Law and Order, which began airing in 1990, were more reflexive and critical, depicting how political and social issues such as racism could bias the criminal justice system. Law and Order’s first and most successful spin-off, Law and Order: SVU also exemplifies growing concern, particularly among liberals, about types of crimes, such as sexual harassment and assault, that were not previously depicted in comprehensive manners. And HBO’s True Detective, which premiered in 2014, offered a very critical look at the psychology of police officers and hinted that some of them at least may be as damaged and dangerous as the predators they are supposed to protect us from.
Dragnet is without a doubt one of the most iconic series in the American television canon and perhaps the single greatest influence on later police series, particularly procedurals. But analyses and reviews made with the benefit of hindsight criticize the program for both its style and even more so its conservative politics. The program’s slogan “Just the facts ma’am,” is heavily quoted to this day but in reality, the series does not present the objective, empirical depiction of police work that it claims to. Writing for The Atlantic, Conor Friedersdorf put it succinctly, saying that “Dragnet was a lie.” Friedersdorf is just one member of a large group of scholars and cultural critics who criticize Dragnet for its misleading, pro-police messages. The Los Angeles Police Department as portrayed in the series was for the most part fair and righteous but Friedersdorf notes how its real-life counterpart at the time was “racist, brutal to minorities, and a failure at many aspects of policing.” Jacqui Shine notes how the LAPD “was deeply involved in every stage of Dragnet’s production, from start to finish.” Shine and many others describe the close partnership between the series’ creators, particularly creator and star Jack Webb, and the department as problematic, citing how the department was in a position to use its influence on the show to ensure it was portrayed positively, which would in turn influence public opinion in its favor. Shine, Friedersdorf, and others describe how the series obscured the corruption and biases of the real LAPD and the American police system as a whole and was instrumental in creating the ideological framework through which law enforcement has almost always been portrayed since in American media. Dragnet made some minimal acknowledgement of the problems related to American policing but ultimately promoted the idea that the majority of police were fair and that the criminal justice system as it was was mostly effective and necessary to protect people from criminals in society. Later programs would perpetuate this ideology, even if they became more willing to highlight the flaws in the system more honestly as time went on.
This conservative ideology of complete faith in government institutions is characteristic of the overall American ideology of the 1950’s. As Michele Hilmes notes, the nearly perfect version of the criminal justice system the series depicted was more than satisfactory for viewers during its original run from 1951-58 but the 1967 revival, which ran until 1970, received a less enthusiastic reaction, something Hilmes attributes to the growing cultural trend of resistance to authority that came about in the 60’s and 70’s. Hilmes argues that even the praise given to the original run’s form and style (which had originally been noted for bringing cinematic technique to television) was more a result of fortunate timing and noted how by the time of the revival the fascination with “realism” in media had ended and Dragnet consequently “began to look plodding, amateurish, and dull.”
The Law and Order franchise definitely follows in Dragnet’s footsteps, particularly through its use of the procedural format, but also expands it and devotes more attention to character and the controversies surrounding American law enforcement.
The original Law and Order series is probably the most similar to Dragnet in that it also prioritizes the cases in individual episodes but the way in which those cases are depicted is different. Most episodes are split between a focus on police detectives identifying a suspect (usually suspected of murder) for roughly the first half of an episode before the second half focuses on district attorneys prosecuting them. Most of the drama comes from complications in building cases and tension often arises between the police and district attorneys when mistakes or tactics used by one group complicate the jobs of the other. A particularly common trend finds the DAs chastising detectives for using questionable search or interrogation methods, which often cause judges to forbid the use of certain pieces of evidence during trial. On the surface this seems to be a fair critique of questionable policing but the context in which it is presented by the series leaves the process with negative connotations. As the investigating police make up half the cast of protagonists the program encourages us to sympathize with them and this combined with their relatively strong track records in terms of identifying the correct suspects causes us to root for them and hope that the suspects they accuse wind up being successfully convicted. This alignment causes the viewer to be frustrated by the aforementioned legal complications. The viewer assumes the suspect is guilty because the police believe them to be, so legal regulations preventing them from being prosecuted are seen as a hindrance, rather than a necessary part of the system. In short, the law is often presented as an obstacle to justice.
However, while the series ultimately still argues that the criminal justice system is necessary it does depict some of its problems. Various episodes highlight institutional issues, such as when Assistant District Attorney Abbie Carmichael visits a prison medical facility and after being horrified by the brutal conditions, questions whether or not she and partner Jack McCoy should continue prosecuting a sick offender. Another episode finds black Detective Ed Green questioning whether his older, white partner Lennie Briscoe may be racially prejudiced.
Law and Order’s immense popularity led to the creation of multiple spin-offs focused on different kinds of crimes, demonstrating the importance of franchising in the early digital era, as Hilmes notes. The most successful and longest-lasting spin-off, Law and Order: SVU began in 1999 and is still airing. The acronym SVU stands for Special Victims Unit and the series focuses on a squadron of detectives charged with investigating crimes related to sexual harassment and violence in addition to other related types. Due to this it is the most staunchly liberal of the series in its politics and is favored by progressive viewers for the ways in which it exposes issues such as institutional protections for predators and violence against women and LGBTQ people. The series has been praised for its accuracy in portraying these issues with a study from the Journal of Health Communication noting how viewers who watch the series demonstrate low “rape-myth acceptance” and better understanding of and respect for consent in sexual activity than those who watch other mainstream crime series NCIS and CSI and the study ultimately concluded that the series’ serious handling of the topic of rape means that it “could be used to reduce sexual assault.” This kind of positive viewer feedback and academic discourse was already important in the 1995-2005 era the series began in and has only become increasingly so since.
While noticeably more progressive than other cop shows SVU still often displays the influence of the franchise’s conservative beginning and still ultimately enforces pro-police messaging, which can be seen in the ways it handles police controversy. The series has on multiple occasions engaged with the issue of police violence against young black men and while one such episode “Community Policing” ends with the officers in question being indicted for murder, comparing it to earlier episode “Amaro’s One-Eighty” reveals the series’ ideology is still mostly pro-cop. The indicted officers in “Community Policing” are guest characters, not seen again, whereas “Amaro’s One-Eighty” focuses on main character Detective Nick Amaro. Amaro shoots an unarmed teenager, paralyzing him. Amaro was backing up a fellow officer, pursuing a suspect when he heard gunfire. But it turned out the only gunfire was the fellow officer’s, whose bullets ricocheted off walls. The boy did not have a gun. In addition, Amaro had been drinking at dinner off duty before responding to the chase, so his judgment is put in question. Despite this, the episode never allows for the possibility that Amaro may truly be in the wrong and the writers tailor the situation so that he comes out of the episode still a character for the audience to sympathize with. Furthermore, they eventually begin to paint Amaro as a victim when outraged members of the African American community shoot guns through the windows of his family home. The episode reveals the series’ belief that even though a few officers like those in “Community Policing” might occasionally do something wrong most police are, like Amaro and the other main characters, righteous and worth believing in no matter how complicated the situation.
Network-produced police procedurals may continue to sanitize their depictions of police but series on other platforms have begun to depict more questionable cops, with a prime example being HBO’s True Detective. The anthology series’ critically acclaimed first season focused on morally questionable detectives Rustin Cohle and Marty Hart and critiqued both their conduct as police officers and their toxic masculinity.
Despite its title True Detective does not aim for realism and Season 1 revolves around Hart and Cohle’s investigation of the ritualistic murder of a child, with hints of involvement from supernatural forces. Regardless, the season offers a frank depiction of both its leading men’s damaged mental states, examining both how the violence and depravity of police work, especially this particularly gruesome case, affects their personal lives and, conversely, how their prior baggage affects their abilities as investigators. Having suffered the loss of a child Cohle is an anti-social mess of a man and while he has exceptional investigative skills his abrasive and condescending personality causes tension with both Hart and others, who are disturbed by his espousing of nihilistic philosophies. Hart’s issues are more traditional, responding to a mid-life crisis by engaging in a string of extra-marital affairs, which results in his wife and children abandoning him multiple times.
Hart and Cohle’s flawed natures are one of many aspects of True Detective that make it a prime example of the television trends of the current era, with HBO in particular being a perfect home for the series. Hart’s affairs provide the sexual content most successful HBO shows have, with lengthy, arguably exploitative, scenes of actress Alexandra Daddario, who plays Hart’s first onscreen mistress, appearing nude continuing the tradition of frank depictions of sexuality on the station that Sex and the City began. The series also moves away from the procedural style, following a single case throughout the entire first season. This reflects the increasing use of a style of plotting becoming more common among scripted dramas, in which each season is designed, as creators describe, as a long movie. Lastly, the characterizations of Hart and especially Cohle are in line with the cable (and now streaming) tradition of flawed but complex white male leads that started with Tony Soprano and continued with characters like Don Draper and Walter White.
True Detective’s recognition of Hart and Cohle’s flaws does not, however, lead it to take any radical stances in terms of its views on policing. In fact, their eventual success at stopping the people responsible for the string of heinous crimes they find themselves in the middle of is presented as a redeeming achievement that offsets their otherwise immoral behavior, despite the extreme tactics they use to do so. The crimes they are dealing with, which include sexual violence against children and cultish and or Satanic practices are so vile, the series argues, that any measures Hart and Cohle take to neutralize them are justified. When Hart executes a pedophile Cohle had already detained the latter simply remarks that “It’s nice to see you commit to something.” In a paper examining whether mainstream media allows for the possibility of a “world-without-police”, Travis Linneman surmises that despite the characterization of Hart and Cohle the series very much does not support the idea. As Linneman notes, the series’ ideology is surmised in an exchange between Hart and Cohle when the former asks “Do you ever wonder if you’re a bad man?” and Cohle replies “No. I don’t wonder, Marty. The world needs bad men. We keep the other bad men from the door.”
Linneman’s idea is worth applying to all the series discussed and the answer from all of them in regard to the question of whether a world-without-police is viable is a resounding no. It seems a fundamental aspect of the police series is to provide evidence supporting the necessity and positive impact of police. The genre may have become marginally more reflexive and willing to admit the criminal justice system’s faults over time but even some of its most disparate programs essentially make the same core argument: that the police and the system they represent are necessary to protect the American people from a chaotic world and that any flaws in the system must be forgiven.
Change is more noticeable in the genre, however, when one looks at it through the lens of the changing television industry. Dragnet was seen as a pioneering program because of its focus on supposed realism and its importation of cinematic technique. The Law and Order series demonstrates the importance of franchising that came about in the late 1990’s and early 2000’s and persists to today. The episodic focus on individual cases, and the series’ long runs also make them ideal products for syndication, which has remained an important factor in the televisual landscape despite other changes. The series, especially SVU, also highlight how since the digital era began mainstream media texts have benefitted in popularity and acclaim if they present liberal themes and demonstrate political value. True Detective’s style and form appeal to the current standards of what constitutes “quality” television with heavy use of adult content such as sex and brutal violence and complicated, problematic characters, along with a move away from the procedural format to more serialized storytelling.
Ultimately one might say that the theme at the core of the police genre has remained the same but the methods with which the messages are delivered have changed. Comparison of those methods provides an interesting look at the development of televisual form, with new story structures like True Detective’s season long movie approach offering alternatives to long-standing strategies like Dragnet and Law and Order’s purely episodic ones.
Works Cited
Friedersdorf, Conor. “The Dragnet Effect: How TV Has Obscured Police Brutality.” The Atlantic, Atlantic Media Company, 12 June 2015, http://www.theatlantic.com/culture/archive/2015/06/the-brutal-facts-that-sergeant-joe-friday-ignored/395591/.
Gilbert, Sophie. “Watching ‘Law & Order: SVU’ Might Be Good for Society.” The Atlantic, Atlantic Media Company, 20 Oct. 2015, http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2015/10/law-order-psa/411373/.
Hilmes, Michele. Only Connect: A Cultural History of Broadcasting in the United States. Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2014.
Linnemann, Travis. “Bad Cops and True Detectives: The Horror of Police and the Unthinkable World.” Theoretical Criminology, vol. 23, no. 3, 2017, pp. 355–374., doi:10.1177/1362480617737761.
Shine, Jacqui. “’Dragnet’ Was Straight up LAPD Propaganda, on National TV for Years.” Timeline, 20 June 2017, timeline.com/dragnet-lapd-propaganda-cop-bb19d9a5fb6f.
Greg Goes to the Movies 