KN Magazine: Articles
Drop the Pen! What Every Writer Should Know About Real Police Work: Traffic Stops, Part Two
In this follow-up to last month’s article, former detective David Lane Williams takes writers deeper into the world of real police work. From the nuances of reasonable suspicion to the tactics of safe vehicle approaches, Williams explains the legal, procedural, and tactical realities behind every traffic stop—helping crime and mystery writers bring authenticity and accuracy to their fiction.
By David Lane Williams
Last month, we discussed traffic stops, focusing primarily on how police officers stopping vehicles based on relatively minor offenses can lead to the detection and arrest of violent criminals. Even if you’re writing a detective procedural, it’s important that you understand the constitutional and tactical considerations of a legal and safe stop in the grand scheme of policing. This month, I want to continue with the traffic stop concept, expanding on best practices. Traffic stops are performed thousands of times each day, and writers of crime fiction and true crime need to have a solid understanding of how they are performed to show they’ve done the research and know this subject better than the average Joe Citizen. There is a procedure taught at most academies nowadays, and I think it is enlightening to understand the way these things should be done. Let’s take it step by step.
Determine Reasonable Suspicion or Probable Cause
Let’s say your fictional officer needs to stop a car because the driver matches the description of a bank robber from the previous shift. Your officer needs to make the stop in a legal and safe manner. The first thing he must decide (and be ready to defend) is the legal reason for the stop. Officers in the U.S. can’t just go around stopping every car they pass. We’ve all seen the awful ramifications of such an approach. There are basically two ways to make a legal, constitutionally sound traffic stop: Reasonable Suspicion or Probable Cause.
Reasonable suspicion that a driver or occupant of a moving vehicle has committed a crime or is about to commit one is an acceptable reason for stopping a vehicle. It is, however, the least resilient tactic to the scrutiny of a defense attorney, judge, and/or jury. The officer must be able to swear under oath that, based on his training and experience, he suspected the occupants of a vehicle of doing or about to do a crime. Reasonable suspicion stops are done with less frequency than even a decade ago, because of the inevitable attack it will receive from the person’s attorney if the case ever goes to trial. Most officers will wait until they notice an infraction, such as making a turn without a signal or weaving in and out of lanes. Delaying a stop for actual probable cause—AKA evidence— instead of relying solely on suspicion, puts the officer in a better position to defend his actions if the case goes to trial.
Thus, you may opt to have your fictional officer stop a car based on a “gut feeling,” but you’ve placed him in a legally precarious situation that most veteran officers wouldn’t actually choose. It can still work, but your character is in a better position if he is patient and waits to spot an actual infraction about which he can testify under oath. (Go back and read the previous month’s article if you need more detail on the difference between a Reasonable Suspicion stop and one based on Probable Cause.)
Prepare for the Stop
Preparing for the stop means calling the license plate, description, and location to the Dispatch Center so other officers will know where you are and what kind of vehicle they should look for if the officer making the stop gets attacked. The Hollywood version of a cop stopping a car in a dark alley and not letting anyone know is macho hooey and should never happen in real life (or your fiction unless you want to show a police character performing at a level of incompetence or recklessness).
Parking the Patrol Vehicle
Safe parking of the patrol vehicle calls for turning on the emergency lights and pulling in behind the stopped vehicle. At night, a patrol officer will also use a car-mounted beacon-style light in such a way that it reflects in the side mirror of the stopped car. This adds an additional layer of protection because the other driver has limited visibility due to the glare. Officers know the glare is irritating, but it is designed to give them an edge if the occupants are intent on doing them harm.
The officer will then park the squad car at a slight angle with the engine block canted to the left. This has two advantages. First, the officer can cover behind the engine block if the occupants of the other vehicle come out shooting. Second, the parked squad car will careen to the left instead of straight into the officer if another car hits it from behind.
Approaching the Vehicle
Approaching the vehicle can be done by either stepping up to the driver’s door or around the back of the stopped vehicle just behind the passenger door. I preferred the second method when I worked at night. Most people will be watching for the officer to approach from their left. Coming up on the right side of their car allowed me to be beside the vehicle and use my flashlight to see if the occupants were holding a weapon before they even knew I was close.
Either way, officers will touch the trunk compartment door as they pass the rear fender. This action marks the suspect vehicle with the officer’s fingerprints and DNA. Should the suspect “rabbit” (flee), his car will carry definitive evidence of the encounter. It also lets the officer make sure the trunk is fully closed in case there is anyone in the trunk intent on doing him harm.
Once the officer is near the car, he should identify himself and his agency right away. This has a proven effect of calming concerns from the driver that the officer might be corrupt. Corrupt cops don’t tend to give their names, and this small detail can make all the difference in terms of keeping the tone polite and professional.
I am also a big believer that officers should clearly state why they pulled the car over, e.g., “I pulled you over because you were speeding through a school zone.” Again, this has a dampening effect on any driver revving up to argue. The officer should be clear, forthright, and professional, which is what it will sound like to jurors listening to the officer’s body camera recording if this thing ever goes to trial.
Positioning At the Vehicle
I roll my eyes at cop shows where the police officer is talking straight down into the window of the suspect vehicle. The problem with standing right beside the driver’s window is that this position puts you in the line of fire should he turn homicidal. Bullets go through car doors like toothpicks through those little Christmas party sausages. Don’t let your fictional officer stand right by the door. I’ll surmise he was poorly trained or that he is about to get shot in the groin.
Instead, officers are taught to stand adjacent to the thick metal door frame behind the driver’s seat. This space has the tactical advantage of keeping the driver in sight while also making it more difficult for him to accurately fire a weapon backward and over his left shoulder. Try it next time you’re in the driver’s seat. Point your finger like you’re a kid playing with a pretend space phaser and see if you can “photon blast” someone standing back there. You can, but it’s slow and clumsy—the advantage in a split-second attack goes to the officer.
Remember: Officer survival is part tactics and part practice, but all mindset. A well-trained police officer will be thinking about these concepts as he approaches the car.
Background Check
By now, your officer has collected pertinent paperwork, including the vehicle registration (not all states require this), proof of insurance, and the driver’s license. The officer has conversed with the occupants, determined what, if any, violations have occurred, and retreated toward his own car to increase the safety distance. Now the officer will either type in the occupants’ identification into a mobile computer or call it out to the Dispatch Center.
I preferred to keep my eyes on the car by calling Dispatch on the radio. Oftentimes, I would do this while standing behind the trunk of my own car, again so that I would have the protection of my vehicle should occupants in the stopped car come out firing. The last place I would want to be in that event would be sitting comfy—and trapped—in my driver’s seat.
Once the cop has determined there are no outstanding arrest warrants for the people in the car, he’ll decide whether to issue a warning or a citation. Once this is done, the officer needs to make a formal announcement along the lines of, “You’re free to go.”
This is where things might get tricky. Once the person who was detained has been informed he is free to go, he is…free to go. But, this is also when the officer may ask if there is anything illegal in the car. If the driver says, “No,” but he does it in a less-than-credible manner, the officer might follow up with, “So, you wouldn’t mind if I did a quick search, then?”
Why then? Why not ask to search before the officer has lifted the detention? Here’s the thing: any search of a vehicle (or anywhere considered private from the prying eyes of government) done while a person is in custody is likely to get thrown out of court. In simplest terms, a person in custody may not feel they have a choice but to let that government agent search their car. Thus, any search during the stop could, and probably should, be considered involuntary. You can’t volunteer to allow a search if you don’t believe you have an option. The case is likely to be dismissed, even if you were to find a severed head and a bloody axe in the trunk.
Officers who are looking to make lots of drug-related arrests use this tactic often. Mentioning to the driver that he is free to leave, but following up with a request to search the car is a workaround, and defense attorneys everywhere just groaned. I can’t say I blame them. This strategy pushes the limits of the Fourth Amendment, and I’m not an advocate for using it during most traffic stops. That said, this is a standard drug interdiction technique, and you may decide to use it to propel your storyline forward.
Bloody axe, anyone?
A Word on “Do you know who I am?”
I don’t care if you’re a minister taking her family out for a picnic after church, Senator So & So’s aide, or a rookie attorney who just passed the bar; cops don’t know “who you are,” and they don’t particularly care. They know they’ve stopped you for a reason, and they expect to speak with you and investigate further.
You wanna make a cop mock you long after the traffic stop? Say, “Do you know who I am?” when he approaches the car. You’ll be the belle of the squad room when he tells his buddies about it later.
That’s it for this month. Until then, be safe…just not too safe. You’ve got a job to do, after all. Onward.
Drop the Pen! What Every Writer Should Know About Real Police Work: Why Cops Yell Sometimes—The OODA Loop Phenomenon
In this informative and eye-opening article, David Williams—veteran officer and SWAT medic—explains the psychology behind why police officers raise their voices in high-stakes situations. Through real-life stories and expert insight, he introduces the OODA Loop and explores how understanding this decision-making model can improve both writing and real-world de-escalation.
By D.L. Williams
Years ago, my partner and I were on a nightly patrol of an old hotel in the downtown district. The hotel had once been luxurious, a place for celebrities and politicians to rub shoulders, for honeymooners to spend their first night of marriage, or a swanky place you might take a business companion.
The hotel had gone bankrupt a few years earlier, and it had deteriorated into a haven for drug deals, sexual assaults, vandalism, and actual satanic rituals. We were under orders to patrol the place at least once a night. This was not an easy assignment because the hotel didn’t have electricity, there was broken glass everywhere, and often there were people generally up to no good skulking about. The hotel was five stories, and each level had to be searched room-to-room for the patrol to be considered successful.
That night we had made it to a parking platform on the top of the building. It was summer, and we were glad to be back out in fresh and comparatively cooler air. We were catching our breath and about to make the long walk back down dark stairs when we heard voices ascending from below us. The voices were whispering, and given the circumstances, we can’t be judged too harshly for thinking those whispers were conspiratorial.
The sources of the voices were just about to the top level, still shadowed but we could make out human forms. Both of us yelled, “Show me your hands!”
Yelps and calls for one of their mothers echoed off the concrete walls and pillars. A twenty-something coed burst into tears, and her college boyfriend looked like he was about to leave her there and run for dear life in the half-second between our yells and his fight or flight response kicking in.
Honestly, our yelling was over the top, and I felt bad for frightening them. To be fair, they had passed six No Trespassing signs on the way up, but they were on more of a lark than out to perform some insidious act. If you kids are reading this now, some two decades later, I apologize.
Cops yell sometimes. It doesn’t matter if they’re real-life officers or those we see in film; yelling occurs, especially during high-risk high-stress scenarios. It’s rude, poor “bedside manner,” and not super nice, but there are reasons for it. I’m not here to make excuses, but writers should understand some of the dynamics when they’re writing mysteries and thrillers.
One reason could simply be the guy is having a bad day, and he’s taking out his frustrations on others. That, of course, isn’t acceptable, and my expectation is that all officers always act professionally and politely when dealing with those they’ve sworn to serve. We’re human, and sometimes we will screw up, but professionalism is always the objective standard.
A more important reason has to do with a particular aspect of police officer and military training called the OODA Loop. It’s a fascinating bit of psychology, and one that is now routinely taught at police academies and professional development training for veteran officers. The OODA Loop is a concept adopted by the military in the 1950s and later by police trainers around the country. It’s standard fare at police academies, and it is practiced for days on end while cadets learn how to do building searches and perform high-threat felony arrests.
OODA stands for Observe, Orient, Decide, Act. We all do OODA multiple times a day, whether that be sizing up a salesman, managing our children, dealing with a difficult boss, or asking someone out on a date. In simple terms, we humans look at what’s going on, find the rhythm and orient to the situation, identify the best possible choice (hopefully) given the circumstances, and perform whatever action our brain decides to take.
OODA processing is imperfect. We don’t always hit the baseball, we blurt out the wrong thing in an argument, and we spend more money and time than we’d planned in a casino. Thus, the concept of OODA in police work is to support good acts while simultaneously disrupting negative decision-making.
Let’s say you have a store owner arguing with a customer, and employees dial 911 because it looks like there might be violence. Two officers arrive, and each takes one of the would-be combatants some distance apart to get their side of the story. The customer settles down quickly, but the store owner is incensed and keeps trying to get around the officer to re-confront the customer.
Telling the store owner to calm down is rarely effective. He’s stuck in a negative OODA Loop, and his brain can’t catch up to let him know his actions leaning toward violence are based on a bad decision. In OODA parlance, the officer needs to interrupt the loop just long enough so that the store owner can start making rational decisions again.
An example of this would be for the officer to remark positively on some aspect of the store. Let’s say the store owner sells gnome figurines. The officer could say something nice about one of the little statues in an open-ended way: “My wife sure does love gnomes. Maybe I’ll bring her by sometime.”
Hopefully, the store owner’s OODA processing just curved out of the established pattern. He has to think of a response, please a potential new customer, and emotionally—even for an instant—leave the anger loop. Now the store owner has time to re-observe and re-orient, and the conditions for a non-violent, low-drama outcome blossom.
OODA Loop training in police circles also involves interrupting the process in potentially life-threatening situations. Think of a puma about to spring on a rabbit concentrated on a succulent blade of grass. The rabbit is unaware of the predator lurking on a branch just above, and the puma emits a primal scream as it springs from the tree. That scream interrupts the prey’s OODA Loop, disrupting the bunny’s natural flight response long enough for the big cat to make the kill.
This is not unlike a loud kiai yell used by martial artists or howls from soldiers as they attack on the battlefield. The guttural bellow is designed to interrupt the OODA process for the opponent, granting a fraction of a second advantage for the attacker. This is also why cops are trained to yell things like, “Get on the ground!” or “Show me your hands!” during moments of heightened danger.
This is reasonable to a point. Our voices can be used with the effect of a leather whip cracking the air, at once stunning and distracting. It can be too much, however. Four officers all yelling different commands will upend the OODA Loop of a potentially violent person, leading to so much fear and confusion that the person of interest unleashes the fury and terror on the officers. Using OODA Loop tactics, like any form of communication, is best done artfully and with a positive outcome as the end goal.
OODA tactics come into sharper focus the higher the stakes. Let’s examine a scenario in which narcotics officers have secured a search warrant for a meth lab being run out of a house. The occupants are known to have weapons, as well as training in how to use them, and they are convicted, violent felons. The prevailing wisdom amongst those who know the occupants is that they will not go peacefully. Thus, serving this warrant is probably best accomplished using a Special Weapons and Tactics (SWAT) team.
To be clear, jurisdictions refer to such teams with different names (e.g., Emergency Response Team, Tactical Team, etc.), but I’m using the colloquial term most people have heard. I was a tactical medic for federal, city, and county SWAT teams for five years during my career. My position at the back of the “stack” (police term for how such teams enter a home in tactical formation) allowed me to observe all the action and be in on the planning phases. It was an adrenaline-filled time in my life. I don’t have any desire to do it again, but I’m glad to have had the experience. (Note: I plan to talk in more detail about SWAT teams in a future column.)
Consider the OODA Loop of those inside the meth house. Their orientation is centered on being alert to police coming to arrest them. Perhaps one of them observes shadows and sounds outside the home that make him think the police have arrived. The decision might be to pick up a firearm and aim it at those officers, and the action would be to destroy them with gunfire.
Officers must do something to interrupt that thought pattern. One way to do this is to establish a dialogue, either through a phone call or by calling out to those inside to “come out with your hands up.” This is, by far, the most successful and most used tactic, but there were times when that was deemed tactically unsafe and ineffective.
Oftentimes, this meant the team would deploy a “flashbang,” a type of grenade that emits white hot light and a loud bang when thrown, but without blasting deadly shrapnel when it explodes. The idea of a flashbang is to render those inside a dangerous structure momentarily stunned, giving the team a few seconds to enter the house and arrest those inside.
I know this sounds over-the-top violent to some of you, but I’ve seen this tactic successfully deployed a number of times. This is classic OODA Loop interruption. The people inside the home have a mindset to defend the “castle,” and the police team outside uses a loud noise and bright light to interrupt that thought process long enough to make the breach and make the scene safe. I’ve written and spoken before on the very valid concerns of many citizens that “no-knock” warrants can be more destructive than helpful, but there are times when the folks officers are going to arrest are armed to the teeth and willing to kill anyone who tries to stop them from perpetrating insidious crimes. The “No-Knock Warrant” conversation is another one for a future column, and it’s a doozie.
OODA Loop tactics have a lasting place in policing, and versions are incorporated into most violence prevention training programs currently delivered to cadets and veterans. Like any other tool, such tactics can be improperly used, which is why I will always stress the need for ongoing training and evaluation of every officer in the field.
Try re-framing an OODA Loop next time you’re dealing with a cranky person. Call attention to something you know they are proud of or that makes them happy, doing so with no ulterior motive attached and no yelling. I’ll bet it helps you both have a better day. And if you’re a tired and out-of-breath cop on the beat, having a better day is a touchdown. Onward.
Submit Your Writing to KN Magazine
Want to have your writing included in Killer Nashville Magazine?
Fill out our submission form and upload your writing here: