Moonlighting

I've been popping up in a couple of other publications this week. Firstly, there's an article I wrote about the Greater Manchester Police's use of social networking during the UK Riots, for Catch magazine, an independent quarterly publication.

I have also been blogging some events for the Manchester Literature Festival. The last event I attended was 'Words to Image', an evening of poetry inspired by the works of Ford Madox Brown at Manchester Art Gallery. My review can be read here: When Poets Reflect Art.

UPDATE: Catch Magazine is no longer available online, so here is the article in full.

“We said we would be coming for you and we are”

The riots which broke out in London on August 8th ignited a public debate about modern policing tactics. Questions had already been raised about the policing of political protests, ‘kettling’ and the manslaughter of Ian Tomlinson, as well as the mass arrests of UK Uncut demonstrators in Fortnum & Mason’s. More recently, the Met was reeling from the revelation of its close ties to the Murdoch newspapers, and had to prove its ability to effectively manage the 2012 Olympics. At a time when the mainstream press demands a robust approach to containing disorder (see the student fees protests), it was a shock to see images of riot police effectively standing by whilst looters created havoc in the streets of the capital.

Further north, the Greater Manchester Police had more time to consider their actions. They were able to monitor social networking sites to gauge the likelihood of copycat violence, and felt confident enough to send reinforcements to the Met. The role of social media went beyond information-gathering; the official GMP Twitter feed was able to reassure local people: “No disorder or riots – speculation about ongoing riots completely inaccurate”. As public opinion became hardened against the riots, however, there was a significant change in the tone of the GMP feed. What caused this, and was it an appropriate reaction to the situation?

GMP has made innovative use of Twitter in the past to improve relations with the public, such as the GMP 24 hour feed, which kept followers up to date with a typical day for officers around the region. This initiative was a massive success, attracting positive media coverage, award nominations, and over 15,000 followers. The feed was described as a ‘work of genius’ by followers, and praised as an example for other emergency services to follow. The updates were neutral in tone, and avoided any personal details, purposefully demonstrating the mundane daily activities of the police (and the odd ‘loose horse in Atherton’).

The benefits of building community links through social media are obvious, as is the usefulness of an official feed to counter alarmist rumours. Clearly, though, it is vital to maintain a dignified stance when representing a public service. This is where so many social networking experiments fall down.

As the riots spread from Tottenham through London and then to the North, the dominant media discourse moved away from a discussion of police brutality and the death of Mark Duggan towards a venomous condemnation of disorder; leading politicians were pilloried for their media silence (and in Cameron and Johnson’s case, absence), as the public (or at least those members of the public given a media platform) demanded an authoritative response. At this stage, after one night of disorder in Manchester, the tone of GMP’s tweeting turned from reassurance to revenge.

The first sign came at 12.49 on the 10^th: ‘Things quieting down now… if you have been using social networking sites to incite disorder, expect us to come knocking on your door very soon’. This was followed later by a new message: ‘We are monitoring Twitter 24 hours until the message sets in – if you use it to incite any violence, you’ll be arrested.’ Here we see the development of an authoritarian presence within the wild west online community. The utilitarian philosopher Jeremy Bentham developed the idea of the Panopticon, an ordered social space in which citizens could be watched by central authority at all times, without being aware of whether they were being observed at any given time. The monitoring of social networks by police can be seen as a similar effort at influencing behaviour through surveillance, and was rigorously reinforced by the courts, as in the case of the ‘Facebook rioters’ receiving 4 year sentences.

Immediately there was a backlash, but GMP were confident: ‘courts v clear, justice should be done publicly’. This is where mission creep began to affect and undermine the police’s efforts. The police do not decide justice, courts do. Therefore, publishing details of individuals before they have been charged or tried is unacceptable in liberal society. At this stage, a worrying tone began to affect the GMP feed. An Assistant Chief Constable described rioters as ‘locusts’. Another update boasted ‘just locked up another man after he bragged on Facebook he couldn’t be caught. Wrong’. Later, (8.23 on the 12^th), the police made public the arrest of a 14 year old.

The police were bolstered by the ‘fantastic support’ they received (about 70,000 new followers by midnight on the 12^th), but did not wonder whether many were simply looking for factual updates, rather than messages that ‘we said we would be coming for you and we are’ (9.55 on the 13^th). Would rioters be following the Police blog? If not, then the messages were pure authoritarian PR, designed as a show of strength and reinforcing an image of police omnipresence which had been damaged by their seemingly ineffectual initial response to the disorder.

The mark was truly overstepped with a gloating message regarding a mother of two ‘not involved in disorder, jailed for FIVE months… there are no excuses’. After a flurry of protests, the tweet was deleted, ‘not to hide it, but because it was not appropriate to comment on a sentencing’. Later messages backtracked: ‘agree no personal opinion needed… changing tack slightly’. The courts likewise reversed their decision once sober reality crept back in.

The furore sheds light on our attitude to modern policing. Many would agree that police officers on the street are essential for solving crimes, and apprehending perpetrators. However, the police officer is also a symbol of the state, enforcing a desired form of behaviour. This role is recognised by the present government to the point where they want officers to wear their uniforms to and from work, for greater visibility (even if these officers would not intervene in incidents).

It is this role which the GMP Twitter feed bought into the public eye, and which caused such consternation. We are happy for factual details of an officer’s day, and for public service announcements (8.02, 12^th August – ‘no disorder at all, people out enjoying a Friday night’). On the other hand, the foregrounding of riot police (posting photos of ‘officers equipped to face disorder’ on 17^th August) and Orwellian tactics (‘another has handed himself in… his face was everywhere and he could not hide’ – 12^th August) and partisan gloating are still not palatable for the majority. As the politicians failed to muster a response to the riots, the GMP and other civic authorities stepped in. Let down by politicians, they overstepped their area of responsibility, shedding light on a worrying aspect of modern society.