Having done the unthinkable, and posted a press release in its entirety from a group that has given itself the less-than-humble name of “Law Enforcement Leaders to Reduce Crime and Incarceration,” I awaited the fallout. It didn’t take long.

The New York Times editorial didn’t fail to disappoint (or surprise).

In a news conference on Wednesday, officials who have spent their careers fighting crime stood up to say that too often, the aggressive approach has only made matters worse. “It’s really clear that we can reduce crime and at the same time reduce incarceration rates,” Garry McCarthy, Chicago’s police chief, said.

Chicago? The Chicago with a secret interrogation facility at Homan Square where people go in and come out dead? Where lawyers are denied access to clients? Where the cops deny they’ve taken suspects?  That Chicago? Sure, McCarthy is the perfect spokesman for reform.

It was a remarkable moment, even as it underscored the central role the police and prosecutors have long played in creating and sustaining the current incarceration crisis.

A mantra of good writing is show me, don’t tell me. This dog and pony show was all about the telling, from the people who dedicated their careers to creating the problem. They are the problem.  Was it remarkable that they told a different story?

The group is focusing on three broad areas of reform, all of which have been successful in cities and states around the country.

Broad areas of reform fill the heart with joy, but they leave the head empty. While bits and pieces have appeared in various places around the country at various times, to call it successful is to suggest it’s happening, at least somewhere. It’s not. But then, what three “broad areas of reform”?

First, more alternatives to arrest and prosecution, which would reduce the number of people entering prison in the first place. This is particularly important for substance abusers and the mentally ill, who make up disproportionate numbers of those behind bars.

New York’s Police Commissioner Bill Bratton is part of this group. So too is New York County’s District Attorney, Cy Vance. That covers the arrest part and the prosecution part. What stopped you guys from doing this up to now? Hate to blow the press conference opportunity?

Second, the reduction or elimination of overly severe sentencing laws, which have been shown to have little or no impact on future crime, even as they destroy lives and burden state budgets. The police chiefs called for some nonviolent felonies to be reclassified as misdemeanors, as California did last year, and for other small crimes to be taken off the books. They also seek the reform of mandatory-minimum sentences, and giving judges more flexibility to tailor punishments to individual circumstances.

Was there somebody forcing prosecutors to fashion plea deals to take maximum advantage of defendants, put them in for as long as possible?  Who demanded they charge the highest possible count so the mandatory minimums would be required? Who refused to allow defendants to plead down before the minimums? Why that would be you guys, now wouldn’t it.

Third, the rebuilding of relations with local communities, especially those of color, where the trust between residents and the police has completely broken down.

Didn’t anybody mention that black kids walking down the street don’t really enjoy being tossed against walls whenever cops feel like it?  Yet, you’re still lauding cool-sounding policies that make people hate cops?

To achieve these laudable goals, law enforcement officials will have to limit their own extremely broad powers. It remains to be seen, for example, how the group will square its push for fewer arrests with aggressive policing philosophies like the deeply problematic “broken windows” approach, which was pioneered by New York’s police commissioner, William Bratton, a member of the new group.

This is where the Times, in its effervescent effort to be perpetually optimistic, goes off the rails. If you look at the list of names attached to this group, it’s a rogues gallery of powerful officials who brought misery down on the public.  These are the guys who caused, who perpetuated, the problems they now say they want to fix.

It’s not a problem of limiting their extremely broad powers, but a problem of why they exercised those powers as they did all along. They did this. Now they’re going to fix the mess they created?

Every person who has hopped on this cool reform train could have accomplished change at any moment, if that’s what they wanted to do. Now, in the face of mounting public anger and recognition that their history of “tough on crime” accomplishments was a disaster, they’ve had a sudden reform epiphany? And kept it a big secret until they could throw a press conference to let the nation know about their sudden change of heart?  Right. Seems totally legit.

Talk is cheap, and at the moment, all they’ve offered is talk.  What they’ve done, however, belies their cheap talk, as they continue to execute their extremely broad power the same way as they always have.  They announce grand rhetorical concepts of reform, and nothing of actual substance.

So if you want to reform the system, just do it. Nobody was stopping you yesterday. Or the week before. Or the month before. Or ever. Just do it.

Will we see any actual change, either in policy, law or practice?  Only a fool would hold his breath. Will Cy Vance’s assistants start offering misdemeanor pleas with no jail today to people they indicted for “C” felony possession yesterday?  That’s all it takes to make the changes start.  Or better still, stop asking for bail on petty offenses for poor defendants to extort pleas and destroy lives.  That would do it too.

Will it happen? Will they do it, or just talk about it at a press conference? By noon today, defendants in court will know if this is real or just empty rhetoric. Let’s see what the front page of the Times has to say about it tomorrow, about how there has been a monumental paradigm shift in Manhattan criminal court with defendants released ROR en masse.  But I won’t hold my breath.