Austin Chief of Police Art Acevedo was outed by one of this own.

In a profanity-laden tirade behind closed doors with his top brass, Acevedo questioned how anyone, much less one of his 18 commanders, could have disagreed with his assessment and desire to hold the officers responsible. He acknowledged the department had “taken a step back” and called upon them to push changes down to the rank-and-file — or to rethink their careers.

“We have got to raise our game,” Acevedo said in the August 10 meeting. “You are commanders. If you don’t like it, you can move on, or you can demote. I’m not going to hold that against anybody if it’s not for you, but we have got to step up.”

Austin has had problems. Serious problems. And Acevedo has reason to be pissed.

After two of the most controversial police use-of-force encounters in his tenure, Austin Police Chief Art Acevedo stood before an assembly of high-ranking officers tasked with carrying out his vision for the department, using raw and emotional language to express his frustration in a private meeting.

In each instance — the shooting of an unarmed teen and the violent arrest of a teacher — Acevedo, one of the nation’s most tenured major city chiefs, had swiftly and publicly condemned the actions of officers, a decision that led some inside the department to question how much Acevedo supports his troops.

And there is the dilemma. Acevedo, the Chief, demands change, while his troops see his anger at their violence as a lack of support.  You have to give Acevedo props, as this wasn’t a speech for public consumption. This was supposed to be private, between Acevedo and his commanders, and he must be credited with sincerity. Here’s what Acevedo had to say:

Theories about how the culture, if there is a culture, of violence, misconduct, “us v. them,” warriors, can be changed abound, and no one has yet figured out a viable means of making it happen. Many argue that it has to start at the top. Well, in Austin, Acevedo is the top, and he’s made his position clear.

Others argue that the head changes, but the body remains the same. The troops, the cops on the street, aren’t all that concerned with what the big guy has to say. What they are concerned with is the First Rule of Policing. They want to make it home for dinner, no matter who sits in the Chief’s chair at any given time.  They’re remarkably unimpressed at the idea of winning a posthumous medal for being the kind of cop the chief would like them to be.

Which view is right? Who knows, since nothing has made a significant dent in the problem. But at least Art Acevedo is trying. And at least we know that he’s for real. It may not work.

It may not mean a thing to the cops on the street, who see only some boss who doesn’t appreciate what they do, the dangers they perceive, the fear they harbor. It may cause the rank and file to view Acevedo as their enemy, failing to support them and being a shill for the other team. Or maybe this will somehow get through to the cops on the street that they can’t keep killing people so that they are the only ones who make it home for dinner.

But then, the fact that one of his commanders secretly recorded this private dressing-down and outed him publicly suggests that they don’t support him. You don’t out your boss unless you really want to do him damage. Maybe not with outsiders, but with the cops on the street. As much as Acevedo’s rant may be applauded outside his department, it may not change anything within except for their willingness to listen to him.

This is why cultural change is so hard, if not impossible.