America Has a Police Shortage

I t’s July 2023.

The chief of police of the city of Los Angeles, Michel Moore, addresses the monthly graduating class of the Los Angeles Police Department’s training academy.

“This is a profession that many will say, and I will say, is the hardest profession in America,” Moore says.

Moore is the picture of modern American law enforcement: close‑cropped hair, immaculate black uniform, commanding voice, an air of quiet professionalism.

In front of him are the recruits, fresh‑faced and eager, sitting on rows of white folding chairs in the academy courtyard.

Behind them are their families, ready to celebrate.

A bagpiper serenades the crowd.

The police band plays.

The sun shines.

It is a perfect Los Angeles day.

“Far too many believe they know how to do it,” Moore continues.

“But few actually step forward.

And [of] those few that do step forward, even fewer have the qualifications to meet the demands of what it means to be a police officer.” [ Reihan Salam and Charles Fain Lehman: We’re underfunding the police ] At that, the young men and women in the graduating class leap to their feet and throw their caps into the air.

But there is something profoundly strange about this and all the other graduation ceremonies that happen every month in the academy courtyard—something that would leave almost any police officer in the developed world shaking their head in bafflement.