The fact that professional football players are idealized, not to mention paid a far better salary than they are likely to get in any non-sports related occupation, it’s perfectly understandable that the public would focus, and focus hard, on such outrageous misconduct as Ray Rice sucker punching his fiancé (later wife) in an elevator.  And it’s similarly understandable that the NFL come under severe negative scrutiny for trivializing it until a very bright light was shined on its callousness.

So what explains cops? Conor Friedersdorf explains:

And there is another American profession that has a significantly more alarming problem with domestic abuse. I’d urge everyone who believes in zero tolerance for NFL employees caught beating their wives or girlfriends to direct as much attention—or ideally, even more attention—at police officers who assault their partners. Several studies have found that the romantic partners of police officers suffer domestic abuse at rates significantly higher than the general population. And while all partner abuse is unacceptable, it is especially problematic when domestic abusers are literally the people that battered and abused women are supposed to call for help.

There is an old “joke”: 

Question: What do you call 187,000 wife beaters? 

Answer: Officer.

While NFL players may well grace our screens, making them easy, even if deserving, targets of outrage, there are simultaneous calls for punishment that bear no inherent connection to the crime. They must be banned from playing football.

Assaulting another person is a crime, for which criminal punishment should be imposed upon conviction.  In order to shame the NFL into taking domestic assault seriously, the demand has been to ban a player in perpetuity.  As Conor notes, what this amounts to is a ban on future employment of a person after completion of a sentence imposed for the crime.

What appears to differ when it comes to professional football players is that they receive so much attention, and so much money, that they should serve as poster boys for the battle to end domestic violence.  By imposing a sentence, followed by a ban on employment, it “sends a message” that advocates believe must be sent.

Of course, the message can also be seen as “commit a crime and, after one has paid one’s dues to society, they should continue to be punished forever.”  We do that to sex offenders now, and few outside the ranks of those affected and criminal defense lawyers give a damn. Of course, the universe of professional football player is much smaller and not much more sympathetic.

But what of cops?

If there’s any job that domestic abuse should disqualify a person from holding, isn’t it the one job that gives you a lethal weapon, trains you to stalk people without their noticing, and relies on your judgment and discretion to protect the abused against domestic abusers?

The job of football player generally involves a lot of physical violence, which we prefer to call “tackling.”  The ability to use substantial physical force is something of a bona fide occupational qualification to play in the NFL, and players are well-rewarded for doing so.

But police, while also involved in the use of force, are required to use something football players are not: discretion.  They must possess judgment.  More particularly, the judgment and discretion is about the handling of domestic abuse, discerning when a crime has been committed and by whom.  When you consider that the person in whom society reposes faith to exercise this level of judgment and discretion may be engaged in the very same conduct, the problem is manifest.

As the National Center for Women and Policing noted in a heavily footnoted information sheet, “Two studies have found that at least 40 percent of police officer families experience domestic violence, in contrast to 10 percent of families in the general population. A third study of older and more experienced officers found a rate of 24 percent, indicating that domestic violence is two to four times more common among police families than American families in general.”

Is this startling?  It should be.  And, if one has a particular focus on domestic abuse, this should be well known. It’s not like this has been a big secret.  Yet, where are the cries for change?

Research is so scant and inadequate that a precise accounting of the problem’s scope is impossible, as The New York Times concluded in a 2013 investigation that was nevertheless alarming. “In many departments, an officer will automatically be fired for a positive marijuana test, but can stay on the job after abusing or battering a spouse,” the newspaper reported.

Conor goes on to document the extent of the problem, to the extent it’s possible to document given how little external attention has been focused on it.

Why?  Why is there a media shitstorm over a handful of NFL players, yet relative crickets when it comes to police officers engaging in domestic abuse at home, and calling the shots when it comes to others?

This is not to trivialize the problem of professional athletes committing crimes; they are no more entitled to beat women than anyone else, no matter how much force and violence may be part of their employment lives.  But the sense of outrage is so strong that not only are the demands for prosecution and punishment heard, but there appears to be no end when it comes to an employment ban for life for conduct that isn’t, well, outside the scope of what is asked of them.

But cops?  The problem continues to fly under the radar of the angry voices demanding retribution.  And yet, the police have a monumentally greater impact on the handling of domestic violence than football players ever will.

H/T Mike Paar