Philly’s police, the 18th district, and the toughest job in America

That name is going to haunt me. I thought I’d seen the ultimate in poverty, death, and destruction in various conflict zones of the Middle East, South Asia, and East Africa. That’s where I spent much of my 26-year career at the CIA.

I was wrong. My top of the hardship list is Kensington.

Unlike its high-wealth namesake in London, Philadelphia’s Kensington is an area largely ignored by the wealthy, college students, young professionals, and the blue-collar alike. They live in other neighborhoods. In a city made famous by Rocky, cheesesteaks, the Liberty Bell, and irascible sports fans, Kensington is certainly not part of the bar scene nor the daily tourist tours. Instead, in Kensington, I sometimes felt that I was watching an episode of The Walking Dead.

Strung-out drug addicts shooting up. Homeless living directly on the streets, parks, and underpasses. Teeming drug markets with deals made in the open. Nary a healthy-looking individual to be seen. A staggering disrespect for the police, who somehow continue to have the courage to try. Because the police know that there are good people here who are trapped.

Since my visit with the Philly PD several days ago, there have been 20 homicides and six people shot in front of a school. Staggering numbers. Just like Sisyphus, however, the police must keep pushing that rock up the hill despite knowing futility and frustration likely await.

Capt. Matthew Gillespie leads the 18th district of the fourth-largest police department in the nation. He is friendly, smart, tough, thoughtful, well-read, and articulate. Matt loves his police and loves his job. He reached out to me over social media to travel to his precinct and address the men and women under his command, as well as those of some other precincts who could attend my talk. I wrote a book about leadership, and Matt believed that the police would respond well to me, particularly as I teach how to lead in high-stress situations.

I made the trip last week and have not slept well since. I admit I may have misunderstood several aspects of life in urban America. There may be some who disagree with my characterization of the hardships of being an officer in a major city. That is fine, but I stand by what I experienced.

I thought I was on the tip of the spear at the CIA. Wrong again. Go spend a day with the Philly PD. My time with the 18th, other district officers, and specialized tactical units, both in the stations and on the streets, was eye-opening, inspiring, sobering, and infuriating. There is a rampant proliferation of guns. Daily homicides. A booming and lucrative drug trade. Police officers being shot at — sometimes several times per day. Radical groups such as antifa operating, at least at times, with impunity.

America has pockets of staggering decay, the nature of which can only be understood if you see them up close and personal. What I witnessed should not be happening in America, one of the richest countries in the world. Kensington is a blight on our moral conscience.

I have always been a proponent of foreign aid, as I believe it helps spread goodwill. But travel to an area such as Kensington, and you wonder why America has forgotten its domestic war zones. It makes you think about our priorities, our politics, and those police officers who try to protect the good citizens of such neighborhoods — those who are trapped by the violence and destruction around them.

My talk to the Philly PD was designed to be structured, both a review of the leadership principles I learned at the CIA, followed by a Q-and-A session. Chief James Kelly, the commanding officer of Regional Operations Command South, presided over the informal event at the 18th. Kelly is no-nonsense and tough, yet engaging and intellectually curious. He’s a history buff with a passion for public service and policing in particular. I found myself repeatedly discussing the similarities between the espionage profession and policing. Both are indispensable institutions to our great nation. Its professionals share a dedication to the public.

But there is a cost.

Having your successes remain the shadows and regrettable failures splashed across the papers is a common theme. Most importantly, these jobs come with a need for resolute inner strength. These are jobs in which public acclaim is hard to come by.

The officers I met were polite, thoughtful, engaged, and had one other key intangible that I recognized from the CIA: extreme pride in their work. A diverse mix of races and sexes, the police spoke about the special bond between them and the care they had for the community they served, even when they didn’t feel the love back. It all rang so true to me. Is it all perfect in the Philly PD? Of course not. Just like the CIA, there is always room for change. I imagine that, like most urban police departments, the Philly PD needs to improve recruitment, pay, and training. Retention is a huge issue. They need to promote and retain the good officers, weed out the bad, and work with police reform activists to enact policies that show a proper balance between law, order, and civil liberties.

They must also strive to maintain a functional relationship with local elected officials, some of whom are overtly hostile to the department. Tall challenges, indeed. But for Matt Gillespie and his fellow officers, many of them Philly natives, there is no place they would rather be.

I grew up in New Jersey, a rabid New York Giants football fan. Philly was enemy territory. Yet, I now have brothers and sisters in the 18th. And I have a true friend in Matt Gillespie. The flame of his eternal optimism for his officers and his community must be kept alive. I have seen great leaders in the intelligence and special operations community. Matt sits among them.

This major-city police work is raw, dangerous, yet also humane. Near to every drug market lies a school where little children congregate each day. Next to run-down public housing controlled by gangs and cartels sits a soccer field, where university teams practice. There are good people in these communities who continue to depend on the police to secure their only dream: living a normal life. Once you accept that the police are an indispensable institution for a functioning society, two key questions must be answered by the public.

First, should you support smart and serious police reform? I would argue that you most certainly should.

Second, can you also, with great enthusiasm, support the vast majority of officers who put their lives on the line every day in places such as the 18th? Can you celebrate those who do so much to such little fanfare?

After spending time with Matt and the officers of the 18th, I believe that you must.