Alfie with Julia McKenzie, BBC Radio 4’s comedy commissioner.

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The show was recorded live at the lovely Chequer Mead Theatre in East Grinstead, and a brilliant night was had by all.  Special shout out to the editor who left in the blooper where Alfie found he’d left an essential prop in his dressing room 😊…

If you’re streaming with cold or just need perking up hit the link to join Alfie for a comedy spectacular that’s the perfect tonic!

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This weekend you’ll see them on the streets and in the news.

I’m a recent ex-cop with plenty of mates in the job to keep me apprised. Usually in a sort of bizarre role reversal, where I play the part of the crisis negotiator and they’re weeping down the phone over the latest senior management policy. Here’s a taste of the current inside gossip:

Dance like no one is watching – and that’s an order!
The spectacle of colour and splendour that is the Notting Hill Carnival is almost upon us. But what about ‘Mr Little Bit Too Serious’ Met Police Commissioner Sir Mark Rowley (boo!) telling his troops they must not join in – that rhythm’s not a dancer on his watch? (Hiss!)

Let me declare that I’ve never been to the Carnival. The closest we get ‘oop north’ is the Barnsley Clog Dancing Festival, where the winner gets a cone of chips with extra graaavy.  But I do love Community Policing. Love it, love it, LOVE IT!

As a former Neighbourhood sergeant, I strongly believe that community engagement is the heart and soul of policing. But the CDS (Counter Dance Squad) at Scotland Yard fears that cops may be distracted. “Less able to respond and intervene swiftly when required”. What a load of Bolshoi!

Come on Sir Mark, be honest. What you really fear is a clip of some pirouetting PC being picked up by the Daily Mail. Causing old Arthur in the Dog and Duck to slam down his pint and scream at the gen Z bartender, that he used t’get a clip around the ear’ole from PC Dixon – and if he went home and told his father…

What do cops think about the dance ban? The answer is – total indifference! Most just resent having their weekend cancelled to swelter in heavy boots and cheap lycra tops.

Meanwhile old Arthur’s now grinding his teeth, screwing up his flat cap and screaming: “Why aren’t they out there catching the real criminals?!” One answer is because they’re at the Notting Hill Carnival, community policing, but also seeking out the-knife-and-gun-toting thieves, robbers, rapists and murderers who exploit the event. Of the 349 arrests in 2024, 72 were for carrying knives or offensive weapons.

A recent Police Federation survey  revealed that an astounding 89% of cops at last year’s event reported feeling unsafe. I’m not surprised. For all the jollity, I think this carnival is potentially the most dangerous public event a police officer will ever face. And that’s coming from a copper who survived policing the Scunthorpe Utd v Grimsby Town, Football League Trophy match of 2017. Grimsby lost. Those Codheads can be sore losers!

Money, money, money
But think of all the overtime, right? Wrong! The biggest gripe from my serving police chums is remuneration! The ‘national living wage’ is now £12.21 per hour. A police officer’s starting salary is £29,907. Whichever way you look at it, it’s an uplift of little more than a couple of quid for enduring a dire shift pattern, constant abuse and daily risk to life and limb.

The Police Federation says that since 2010, police pay has fallen by 21% in real terms. I see that Baroness Theresa May is now the Chair of the Global Commission on Modern Slavery. Skills no doubt honed from reforming UK Police pay and conditions.

Out with the old, out with the new
Recently, Chiefs were given powers to quickly sack those who fail vetting checks. Speedy departure of bad cops is a positive. However, hanging on to the good cops is proving challenging: 8,795 officers left in the last year, 53% being voluntary resignations.

That’s a bit awkward for Government’s neighbourhood policing pledge, to deploy additional personnel to dedicated neighbourhood roles, when there are 1,303 fewer coppers than last year.  A puzzle solved by a serving Neighbourhood Inspector who told me: “we’re bolstering neighbourhood numbers by using cops from crime investigation teams.” Perhaps they could employ the concept of quantum superposition in a Schrödinger’s Cop manoeuvre…

To the Home Office boffins are currently trying to solve the mystery of the police’s dire recruitment and retention problems, here’s a random idea – pay them properly! In the last 5 years the number of police officers with second jobs has doubled. No wonder Carnival cops have been throwing some shapes – they’re practicing for their second jobs as exotic dancers. At the least the lycra comes in handy.

Are we human, or are we dancer?
Here’s another secret I can reveal: police officers are almost human! (not the traffic cops obviously). Did you see the viral clip of a cop getting a camera phone shoved in his face at a recent protest? In a sort of reverse “no comment” interview, he remained silent, as the interviewer repeatedly asked for his views on the protest, inferred that his children would look back and judge him and suggested he should quit the police. Perhaps they a scenario in which every cop resigning would result in a spontaneous VE Day vibe and a universal outbreak of peace and goodwill? There’d be an outbreak alright – total chaos!

No one craves depoliticisation more than a frontline cop. Please try not to blame them for complying with and enforcing the law. The laws brought in by Parliament, made up of people that you elected to represent you.

If you see a copper this weekend spread the love, be friendly, give them a smile. But don’t ask them to dance!

That’s all, I’m off for a pint with Arthur to talk about how it used to be in the good old days…

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In addition to my double bed there was also a single bed, made up in the corner. As I unpack I noticed a shiny metallic object just under the bed and assumed it was a decorative finial from the metal curtain pole that’d dropped off.

I appreciate that it’s not a very exciting story so far…but it picks up.

The next morning I’m sat up in bed drinking a cup of tea when the ‘object’ catches my eye again and I think “I ought to put that on the desk for Housekeeping to sort”.

But as I start to lift it up I see that it’s actually…an ‘adult toy’ – and immediately drop it back to where it was…

You know during Covid you had to wash your hands whilst completing two verses of Happy Birthday? Well I washed mine to the acoustic long play version of Bohemian Rhapsody…twice!  

Then considered my options.

My first thought was that as a former cop I’m aware of my obligations under the Theft Act to take reasonable steps to trace the owner.

But as a professional comedian I was aware of my obligation to get as much material out of this as humanly possible! There could be an Edinburgh show in this! 

I had a couple of hours before check-out and so I decided to do the right thing… and put my predicament out on social media.

The first comment was: ‘maybe those Gideons are getting more creative! Have a close look to see if there’s a tiny biblical tract engraved on it’

What like? The 11th Commandment? “Thou shalt not covet another man’s intimate product”…

I honestly didn’t know what to do and decided to put a poll on Twitter with the following 4 options:  Should I:

• Leave it be (28.2%)
• Hand it into reception (58.2%)
• Take it with me (6.5%)
• Report to the local police (7.1%)

663 people voted:

Would you have said ‘leave it be?’  

28.2% agreed. One of whom strongly advised: “Don’t touch it you don’t know where it’s been” – actually I think I know exactly where it’s been!

My issue, if I leave it, is that it was almost in plain view and no one would believe that the cleaner missed it last time. They’ll think it’s mine!

Maybe it is…I’m at that age where I’m getting a bit more forgetful! Perhaps I should walk into the Poole sex shop just to see if a seedy looking bloke behind the counter says: “hello again Alfie, is it the usual?”

As I’d already made a grab for it this ‘object’ had now got my prints, and DNA, all over it. Yes I know I’m not a high profile superstar but the hotel room was booked in my name and I was playing the main theatre a few hundred yards away. I’m not saying the Daily Mail would run with the story…but if the Bournemouth Echo was having a quiet news day! No one wants to see the headline “Dodgy Copper in Hotel Sex Romp…with Himself!”

Maybe you think: ‘Hand it into reception’?

58% agreed with you, but I thought that was a terrible idea to be honest. A man of my age walking up to the young lady on reception and slapping a sex toy on the counter…maybe accompanied by a cheeky wink…is not really In keeping with my Radio 4 brand. In fact I’d say highly inappropriate.

Someone actually suggested I dump it on the reception desk and announce: ‘this TV remote isn’t working!’

One of my Yorkshire mates said “take the batteries out first and hang on to them. Win Win!”

There were no batteries.

Just to be clear, this was a non-gender specific item. It was about 5” long and designed to fit in a place that all humans have.

It was made of shiny steel tapered on one end and on the other was a large pink gem stone. Which I assume was fake – unless it was a ruby wedding anniversary present. “Thank you for 40 glorious years darling – I’ve bought you something special”. Maybe one each like matching couple’s commitment rings! (pun intended).

By way of a final clue. I made a short video of said ‘object’ which I tried to send to my wife but the signal was poor and it got stuck in my outbox. (You can finish that joke yourself!)

If I wanted to trace the owner I could check the CCTV of anyone shuffling through reception using very small steps.

Who thinks take it with me? (7% agreed) Technically theft by finding.

Besides, with my luck this day would be the first time ever that I was randomly stop searched in a hotel car park

Some cynical copper expounding: “We’ve got knife crime awareness week – could you just step through this portable metal detecting arch sir?”

“No!? Might you be in contravention of section 139 of the Criminal Justice Act 1988 by being in possession of a bladed or sharply pointed article?”

‘Yes…but it’s probably not what you think!’

Put it in the bin option anyone? What about your metal recycling obligations?

Who thinks hand it in to the police? Would that be just in case Dorset Constabulary classed it as a hate crime?!

Other suggestions included: “Put it on e-bay”. What… as a pre-loved item?

 “People who purchased this also bought …”

I decided to go to reception and discreetly report that a “previous occupant had left an intimate object”.

And in a bid to stop the cleaner insisting: “no! I’d have definitely noticed that!” – I kicked it a bit further under the bed! Just in case…

Anyhow if you’d like to see me again live I’ll be at the iconic Edinburgh Fringe Festival throughout August with my new show: ‘Fair Cop Alfie and the Mystery of the Jewelled Butt Plug’.

Be careful out there – you never know what’s lurking under the bed!   

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Dear Guardian,

I read with interest Joel Golby’s review of Channel 4’s Night Coppers published Saturday 9th July 2022.

Joel describes himself as an author and journalist who also writes for Vice, a Canadian-American magazine with a reputation for provocation.

A review by its very nature is an opinion piece and it’s great that publications such as the Guardian encourage varying voices and freedoms of expression. Because of that I’m sure you’ll extend me the same courtesy and allow a right of reply to what I consider to be a reckless and damaging piece.

The reviewer begins by telling us that “The big mistake of Channel 4’s Night Coppers is that it expects us to care about the police”. I think you’ve set your stall out nice and early there Joel.

He tells us “To enjoy it you need to do one thing – ignore the police officers.” Calm down a bit Joel – you alright Hun?

The premise of the show is that it follows police officers attempting to control some of Brighton’s Friday and Saturday night revellers. Here Golby makes the analogy between policing and midwifery inasmuch as “….it’s fine to put cameras in a delivery room for One Born Every Minute because there hasn’t been an inquiry into the entire industry of midwifing this year, with the city’s head midwife being forced to resign.”

I think what you are alluding to here Joel is the recent happenings in the Metropolitan Police Service. However this is Sussex – a completely different geographical policing area.   In any case it’s all starting to get a bit dark now for a television show review isn’t it?

Golby is in fact just getting warmed up. He goes on to spell out his objection that the programme is trying to portray that “The police are all right, aren’t they? The police are normal!”

The police depicted as normal human beings? We certainly can’t have that now can we?

After a few more paragraphs, reinforcing that he has no interest in anything any of the police officers in the programme have to say, Joel eventually concedes (with some sadness I hasten to add) that the programme is also “…very well made, gorgeously shot and very, very human”. Clearly Joel is not including the rozzer participants in the latter observation.

He rounds off the piece with the flash of positivity that “It is possible, then, to watch Night Coppers and focus more on the night than the coppers.”

Well, thank heavens you found a way around it Joel.

It’s a very emotive piece that raises several issues for me. Beginning with my first burning question: just how many points have you got on your driving licence Joel?

As a fellow writer one of the things I’ve learned is to be succinct and not waste words. With that in mind I’d say that it’s possible to edit Joel’s 860 word article down to the following sentence:

“Really well made and entertaining television documentary but I hate all coppers”.

Joel’s hatred of the police is clear and consistent. I’m sure some of his edgy and confrontational style is deliberately laid on thick to get some sort of response and so to that end he’s achieved his aim.

The Guardian is a respected publication that I wouldn’t generally have put in the ‘cheap-and-dirty clickbait gutter press’ category and so I’m surprised about your apparently deliberate decision to drive a political anti-police agenda under the guise of a television review.

Why would the Guardian even have someone that hates the police write a review on a documentary about the police? How did you think that would go?

I’m not keen on football and so, in the same vein, here’s my advance review of the European Cup Final: ‘It’s Shit! And here’s my review of the upcoming Rugby, Australia vs England 3rd Test: ‘That’s shit too!’

More reviews of things I don’t like to follow.

Allow me to say at this juncture that I’ve nothing against the Guardian. In fact you’ve previously published some of my opinion pieces. You’ve even reviewed my tour shows, not Joel obviously – he doesn’t get out much.

The Guardian prides itself on reporting with honesty, integrity, courage and fairness. The irony hasn’t escaped me that those who consider themselves to be champions of exposing bigotry are often blind to their own.

That’s what this is of course – it’s just plain old bigotry. Defined as “Prejudice against a person or people on the basis of their membership of a particular group.”  Prejudice isn’t just that driven by race or religion it also applies when declaring hatred for people that wear the blue uniform of policing.

So am I just a whinging old ex copper with no sense of humour? Maybe. But here’s my issue. Since policing pay and conditions began to plummet 12 years ago some experienced officers began to leave – almost unheard of in my former vocation.

Since the national media-driven negativity towards policing the number of experienced officers leaving has accelerated. Whereas conversely recruitment is proving very challenging. After all who would want to be a copper when they return home after a long gruelling nightshift, having been disrespected, assaulted and spat at, only to see newspaper articles like Golby’s? Attrition rates in some forces are 20% for new starters – which is the worst in policing history.

To those that blindly hate the police my question is this: What’s your outcome?

Is it to drive even more experienced officers away, make it harder to recruit capable people and therefore drive down the standard of policing? It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy being encouraged by the Joels of this world and enabled by publications like the Guardian.

The police aren’t asking for favours just fairness. And balance.

Why is that important? Because every time an unjustified, unfair and unbalanced piece of anti-police hatred like Golby’s is published that further erodes confidence in the police. Every attempt to dehumanise these ordinary working class people increases their chances of being assaulted or killed while they’re out there trying to do their job protecting the public.

And a final word to you Joel. It’s not for me to speak on behalf of Sussex police but if you ever find yourself in danger in the fine city of Brighton, then I’d suggest you ring the Guardian.

Alfie Moore

Alfie Moore is a former police officer and now a writer and broadcaster. His show It’s A Fair Cop Live’ will be at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival 5-26 August where he’ll be offering a view point from the other side of the riot shield.

If you’d like to come up and review the show Joel – don’t bother you’re not welcome.

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The Chortle Awards are the only UK-based awards that solely recognise the live work of stand-up comedians at a professional level. A panel from within the industry draws up a shortlist and the results are decided by public vote.  Voting closes at 5pm on 17^th March 2022 – with the results announced at an awards event in London on 30^th March 2022.

Alfie said “The competition is really tough and I’m honoured to be in such great company. I’m very grateful to BBC Radio 4 and my brilliant production team and my sincere heartfelt thanks go to my listeners for their ongoing support.

Alfie is currently writing a 7^th series of ‘It’s a Fair Cop’ which will be recorded in Autumn 2022 and is due to be broadcast towards the end of the year.

In the meantime Fair Cop fans can find Alfie on tour and he looks forward to seeing as many as possible over the coming months.

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There’s an old saying “never drink in a flat-roofed pub” – they’re normally linked to depravation, brutalist architecture and violence. Throw in a jumbo dabber pen and that’s a good night out at Mecca Bingo.

I spent many years policing in Scunthorpe – in one of the economically deprived wards (which obviously narrows it down a bit)…called Westcliff.

I’m not into class-based stereotyping but let’s just say…it was an area which an estate agent would describe as ‘vibrant’ –  picture the French Quarter of New Orleans without the… culture, cuisine, or the French…so not all bad.

In Westcliff we had a flat-roofed pub called the Desert Rat, which was way ahead of its time. Sort of a precursor to the dark web where you could pre-order stolen and prohibited items with the minimum of fuss.

Once, as I was on uniform foot patrol, I walked past the Desert Rat and saw four local Wezzy Crew lads approaching – all about 18/19 years old. I knew them it was Bugsy, Stevo, Dicko and Joe Lamps.

Now I’ve noticed in working class places people’s nicknames can be quite direct. Bugsy had larger than average teeth, with an unfortunate overbite, and Joe Lamps had a lazy eye – technically known as amblyopia but Joe Amblyopia would’ve been a rubbish nickname and so everyone called him Joe Lamps.

Nicknames can be cruel but often accurate. In Westcliff everyone teased the Lollipop Lady. That wasn’t her job…. she was just really thin with a round face and so everyone called her that..

The police are no better. My mate was dashing back to the nick cos he was dying for a pee and got diverted to a pub fight. He was punched in the stomach resulting in him peeing himself a little bit. And was known for the rest of his 30 year career as Officer Dribble.

Anyhow, I’d remembered from the shift briefing that Bugsy was wanted for shed burglary. Quite a common offence – until recently the UK was the most burgled country in the EU but we’re not anymore.

I had to make a quick decision and decided to put my hand on him and very politely say: “Bugsy you’re wanted and so you’re now under arrest…hope it’s not inconvenient timing…” cos I’d done my customer service training.

I reached for my ridged handcuffs and a couple of clicks later it was ‘snaps on’. Got on the old talking chest and said: “one male IC – van to Westcliff Precinct please?”

Now I could see his three mates were thinking about their options…and when prisoner Bugsy started to struggle they decided the rescue was on.

It was a bit pushing and pulling, just handbags to start with and so initially I wasn’t too concerned. Turns out this was just them loosening up and stretching out – the warm up phase before the serious exercise begins. I wondered why they were in tracksuits…

I was shuffling backwards but there was some paving work going on and I was backed up to a pile of builders sand (bit concerned that Bugsy might burrow his way to freedom…)

So, I was stuck and that’s when the blows started to rain in…with the karaoke belting out from the Desert Rat it looked like the beach scene from Saving Private Ryan…the musical.

I’d kept one hand on the detained person – because I’m old school and it’s drilled into you never lose your prisoner. I once had a prisoner escape from the back of the police car and I didn’t even notice he’d gone until I’d got back to the nick. He’d wound the window down, reached through, pulled up the handle and scarpered at the traffic lights. I remember people pipping me but I didn’t want to give any eye contact as I didn’t want to pick any work up. After all I’d already got a prisoner (except I hadn’t).

Bit embarrassing but there was no way around it and I had to do the honourable thing and deny I’d ever arrested anybody. Call it a draw. He was only a shoplifter and it was Lidl so he’d only had some sound-alike brands – couple of bars of Inferial Leather soap, box of Jammie Rodgers…and a packet of Prongles. Which didn’t taste too bad actually…

Anyway back to the story – I’m determinedly hanging on to my prisoner Bugsy whilst trying to block the blows coming in with my other arm…and I’m losing. I know unless the cavalry appears over the hill, or at least a couple of PCSOs from Dryden Road, I’m dead in the water.

We’re pulling and tugging and Ryan is going one way then the other and I’m thinking “this is the worst game of pass the parcel ever and to be honest it’s a pretty crap prize”

Then I’m out of ideas…but you must never give up on people. Human nature is a wonderful thing and people can surprise you. There were two blokes in the Desert Rat who happened to look out of the window. They’d no idea who I was but they knew there was a fellow human in trouble…and without hesitation they put down their pints and dashed outside…to join in by giving me a kicking as well.

No doubt encouraged by resident alcoholic Dave on the karaoke delivering his near flawless rendition of the Eye of the Tiger…albeit annunciation can be a slight issue when you’ve only got one tooth in your head.

Now these two more experienced campaigners, veterans of alcohol-based violence if you will, were able to show the younger lads how it should be done and attacked from behind with nice sharp kidney punches under the body armour. There was plenty of room ‘cos I’m a bit of a chubby lad and my stab vest used to ride up and look a bit like a crop-top.

Soon I’m wobbling…and I start to consider the PPE options available to me – no good for someone indecisive like me – I’ll stand there in Tesco staring at the reduced options in the chiller cabinet for 10 minutes in a trance and I just can’t make a decision. Then when I’m dithering at the checkout they’re like “yeah this guy definitely needs help with his packing”.

What I’m saying is I preferred the old days when there was less PPE choice – sometimes I just want to put the spit-hood on myself just for a bit of peace and quiet.

Loads of weaponry to worry about now – and I’m the non-violent type – I’ve got “Be Kind” carved into my police truncheon.

That’s all you were issued with when I joined the police in 1987. A 14 inch wooden truncheon and a big rubber torch – that’s it. And if you struck anybody you’re your truncheon the protocol was that you had to fill in a five-page report and so consequently a lot of people just got twatted with the rubber torch – just to cut down on the paperwork.

So, back to the story and as I reach for my protective equipment I can feel other hands on my utility belt trying to get to my gear – my PPE that is …don’t write your own jokes.

So it’s not good – very embarrassing getting a dose of your own CS gas.

Although I once drew it when it had the nozzle facing the wrong way and blasted myself in the face – it stopped the fight as everyone was laughing hysterically at me taking myself out.

We had to stop calling it gas as it sounds too aggressive – we call it spray like you’re working at the Debenhams counter in Scunthorpe. “Would you like to try the new spray sir? It’s by Police….called Incapacitation..

So I’m still trying to hold on to Bugsy. I’ve got Joe Lamps wind-milling directly in front of me – of course he never landing a single punch – although Dicko and Stevo took a bit of friendly fire. And the two blokes behind me were punching my right hand which was protecting my equipment.

I decided it was time for what we know in the trade as a ‘tactical withdrawal’… because ‘running away’ sounds a tad unprofessional.

It was the only time I ever gave my prisoner up – still in handcuffs. He went straight into the Desert Rat for a pint, and to be feted as a legend – they probably had a pair of bolt croppers behind the bar for the handcuffs. We couldn’t touch him in there – different laws like Vatican City.

The only thing they took was my helmet which got knocked off in the struggle. Later that night CCTV picked up a few lads setting fire to it and dancing around it like some sort of satanic ritual.

So I lived to fight another day – bit bruised and with a fractured finger (trying to hang to my equipment). Which completely ruins the story – “there were six of them giving me a beating and they broke my….little pinky”. That has to be the shittest war story ever…

When the council decided to pull the Desert Rat down there was a petition by the locals – I’d have kept it up as a war memorial.

When it got demolished myself and a couple of colleagues went down in the police van and piled up a bit of rubble up, stuck a flag mounted half-mast on a broom handle and saluted.

I think what I’m saying is…I don’t usually drink in flat-roofed pubs

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On 10^th July 2020 the Guardian newspaper printed a story about a potentially offensive T-shirt.

I was going to send this Plod Blog in as a direct response to the article – but I sent in my piece on a police perspective in respect of the death of George Floyd and they wouldn’t print that and so I doubt they’ll consider printing a police perspective on this story either. Quite right too. Who wants to know what those whiny, pointy-headed, flat-foots think?

On June 3^rd this year Jessie-Lu Flynn was in Oxford Circus, on her way back from a Black Lives Matter rally in company with a friend, when she was stopped by two British Transport Police officers. Jessie-Lu Flynn is white and so I’ve no idea what they were playing at. (Relax, I’m still joking).

Anyhow, one of the police officers pointed out that the slogan on the T-shirt she was wearing could be considered offensive to some people.

Now the T-shirt had the two-word slogan ‘F*ck Boris’. Which I believe was meant to be an insult rather than one of the goals on her bucket list. I’ve abbreviated the word, because I’m not a sweary type, but have included the picture that appeared in the Guardian for the sake of clarity.

So anyway, one of the police officers pointed out a possible offence under the Public Order Act 1986.

I believe that the officer was referring to Section 5.1(b), which relates to someone who: “displays any writing, sign or other visible representation which is threatening or abusive, within the hearing or sight of a person likely to be caused harassment, alarm or distress thereby.”

Once this was pointed out to Jessie-Lu Flynn she replied: “I’ve worn it a dozen times before without being challenged by the police”

In my experience that’s quite an unusual defence. When I’ve arrested shoplifters it’s not very often they say “I come in here and steal cheese twice a week every week and no one’s ever complained before.” Neither have I been told “I always drive at excessive speeds when passing primary schools” nor “I’ve murdered loads of people before…” You get the idea!

Incidentally, if Boris Johnson does make wearing of masks in retail premises compulsory I bet all the shoplifters will be shouting a muffled “YIPPEEEEE!”

So anyway, back to Jessie-Lu Flynn and her allegedly ‘offensive’ T-shirt. The cop said “I think you should zip up your top to cover it up” and so she did.

All sorted then? Not quite…

Following the incident Flynn did what any upright citizen would do: Uploaded onto YouTube a video of the incident (shot on her friend’s mobile) to go viral. Followed by features in Unilad, Metro and the Daily Mail. The video shows the officer being very polite and patient. In fact he’s so helpful that he even looks up the specific offence on his mobile device and shows her the exact wording.

Flynn then decided to launch legal process against BTP arguing that the police actions interfered with her right to express her legitimate political opinions.

No one likes protracted political statements, and as a comedian I’m a fan of the editing process to help create incisive satire, but even I reckon that ‘F*CK BORIS’ it’s probably a smidgen lacking in content to be considered legitimate political opinion. In the same way that if the Guardian theatre critic stood up at the end of my performance and gave me the middle finger – I’d get an idea they wasn’t keen but probably wouldn’t class it as a legitimate review.

I’m no prude. I’ve lived through the 80’s which means I’ve seen more risqué Frankie Goes to Hollywood T-shirts than you can shake a stick at. But if my 95-year-old mother-in-law had walked past Jessie-Lu Flynn wearing the T-shirt in question I’m pretty certain that she would’ve found the swear word displayed to be abusive and it would have caused her some alarm and probably even distress. Regardless of the context, political or otherwise.

With that in mind, Flynn’s legal action struck me as a little over-the-top and all a bit daft to be honest. Perhaps like me, many of you were fully expected Paul Crowther the Chief Constable of BTP, to write a reply something on the lines of:

“Dear Ms Flynn,

Thank you for your correspondence. But you must be joking! It’s my job to uphold the law and help maintain some standards of public decency.

I believe that the officer concerned was very reasonably and sensible in his interpretation of the Public Order Act and was very polite and professional to you. Moreover, as a senior leader it is my responsibility to support my staff when they are acting appropriately and in accordance with their duty, especially so when they are currently under attack from a targeted, cynically motivated, negative media campaign and police morale is at an all-time low.

All things considered I’m backing my cops. I will not cave in to police-baiting and pedantic point scoring designed simply to discredit our organisation. I’ll fight this all the way and if needs be we’ll let the High Court decide on the legal ruling,

Have a nice day,

Paul Crowther

PS Please remember to dress sensibly, especially as it starts to get a bit cooler”.

That’s what we all expected right? Wrong! Instead, one of our fearless leaders reverted to what seems to rapidly becoming their default position and Jessie-Lu Flynn received a letter of apology on behalf of the Chief Constable of British Transport Police. Informing her that the instruction to cover her T-shirt, and the brief detention to give that direction, were unlawful.

His letter also apologised for any distress caused. Because clearly having someone say – “Do us a favour and zip up your top please” is very distressing to a hardened political activist…

I bet when Jessie-Lu got home her Mom asked: “Oh dear why are you so upset? Did those nasty, fascist cops kettle you in Parliament Square for 6 hours? Did the Met’s TSG riot police ram their plastic shields in your face? Did the mounted section carry out long-handled baton charges?”

“No, a BTP copper asked me to zip up my cardie.”

According to the Guardian article the letter from BTP also gives an undertaking that “the wearing of the T-shirt alone will not lead to her arrest or any direction to cover it”.

Looks like I’d better tell my 95-year-old mother-in-law to either man-up and stop being such an oversensitive wimp or stay in her house where she can’t come to any harm?

Now I have no doubt that Paul Crowther gave his written response some careful consideration. I’d expect that he liaised with BTP legal team and lawyers before sending that letter and my response to that is:

I DON’T CARE! Let the courts make the ruling not you.

Back up your staff when a complex rule of law arises in the middle of them trying to do a good job for you – don’t hang them out to dry. Don’t humiliate them. Don’t help set a precedent that’s just made every street cop’s job considerably more difficult. Don’t cave in and take the easy way out – be a Chief Constable and put up a bit of a fight. (This is me not joking now ).

“Yeah but Alfie what about the expenditure and the responsibility to the public purse?” Yeah well, what about the quickly fading motivation and morale of every hard-working police officer in this country?

Jessie-Lu Flynn welcomed the police apology and admission the police had acted unlawfully towards her. “I’m thrilled,” she said. “Now I can be confident that I can wear the T-shirt without fear of arrest.”

Jolly good then. I’d guess you’re going to be wearing it quite a lot now. I’m sure there’s thousands already on order. People can now point them towards every cop they see and don’t forget to film if you get any more ‘bites’.

Why don’t you pop into the local Woman’s Institute Meeting – the old dears might give you a round of applause? What about wearing it for church on Sunday and if the vicar objects you can tell him to “f*ck off” as long as you add the word Tory afterwards then he’s not lawfully allowed to be offended. And if he objects you can show him the letter of proof you have from Chief Constable Paul Crowther.

Flynn’s lawyers, Joanna Khan and Michael Oswald at Bhatt Murphy solicitors released this statement:

“This should serve as a strong reminder to police officers that the freedom to express political opinion, and to criticise politicians, is fundamental to a free and democratic society, and that invoking the criminal law to limit that freedom will be unacceptable and unlawful in all but the most extreme circumstances.”

Any perverts out there with a propensity for indecent exposure must be very excited by this news. Perhaps the next time they find themselves walking down a busy street, gripping their genitalia firmly in hand, as long as they remember to shout “Boris is a wanker” it will probably qualify as a political statement. I certainly know of a good firm of solicitors who may be able to assist if they have a run in with the rozzers.

Hopefully you’ve managed to read this blog quickly before I get a letter instructing me to take it down and apologise for its contents.

In fact I will finish with an apology. To the conscientious, proactive BTP officer who dealt with Jessie-Lu Flynn very courteously and professionally – I would like to say that I’m sorry about the lack of support you’ve received – it’s pretty sad my friend.

That’s all from me. I’m off to order my Mother-in-law a bespoke T-shirt. Let me know if you’ve any suggestions for the slogan?

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Did Derek Chauvin intend to take the life of George Floyd? With a street full of witnesses looking on, not to mention audio video recordings and no reasonable defence to be had, there would be no logic whatsoever in him doing so.

So if he didn’t intend for George Floyd to die then why would he casually, hands-in-pockets, ignore a man pleading for his life? The answer couldn’t be any simpler – because when George Floyd repeatedly gasped the words “I can’t breathe”, Derek Chauvin did not believe him.

A police officer not believing someone’s plea for life isn’t a great defence. It means that they are culpable. Very culpable. Maybe not for premeditated murder but there’s little doubt that Derek Chauvin will be convicted of unlawful killing and be sent to prison for a very long time.

For me the big question is why did Derek Chauvin disbelieve George Floyd?

Many people think the answer is that Chauvin is a racist and/or the organisation he worked for is systemically racist. I too feel that those could well be contributory factors to the actions and inaction of the police officers present that day – but I also think there may be other factors at play within the policing world that highlight a deep-rooted culture of institutionalised cynicism.

I was an impressionable 24 year old young man when I joined the police. Prior to that I’d been hidden away as an apprentice in the Sheffield steelworks and had led a pretty sheltered life. After my initial training I can remember turning up at Skegness Police Station all keen, bright and shiny. On my very first day an old-timer frontline veteran took me on one side and offered to give me his sage advice. Of course I accepted – in fact I lapped it up. He leaned forward, lowered his voice to a whisper and said: “If you want to be a good cop always remember the ABC of policing. Assume nothing. Believe no one. Confirm everything.”

This was an early indication that police officers are encouraged to have a suspicious mind-set. All coppers are bastards? Definitely not. All coppers are cynical? Definitely maybe.

Don’t get me wrong, this deep-rooted cynicism is not as bad as it used to be. When I first joined if a woman walked into the police station to report being raped it would not be uncommon for the on-duty Detective Sergeant to put the ABC of good policing into practice by shouting at the victim in order to test the robustness of her evidence. Sounds shocking doesn’t it? But that stuff used to happen.

We have tried to be more trusting. In fact some years ago police policy makers introduced a total turnaround – an investigative policy where our starting point was from a position of believing the victim. That’s another dangerous game to play as Carl Beech highlighted when we rather embarrassingly fell for his fairy stories about the perverted exploits of high level Members of Parliament.

I believe that the police as an organisation needs to seriously think about how we can encourage a culture of non-judgmental open-mindedness. However, to achieve this utopia of cynical-free policing there is another major issue that needs addressing and I’m not exaggerating when I say that it’s a massive problem – a street copper’s sceptical distrusting model of the world is reinforced constantly by the public at large because the public at large lie to them all day and every day.

Within a few years of joining the police I had become totally desensitised to hearing lies. Dishonesty and distortion of the truth became my workaday ‘normal’. The constant flow of lies endorse, encourage and validate a copper’s suspicious mind-set.

They usually came from the mouth of defendants but also sometimes, witnesses and ‘victims’ giving their personalised version of the truth – ask Carl Beech.

And don’t look for racial discrimination here. When it comes to lying to the police there is no bigotry, bias or prejudice – it’s a very level playing field – almost everybody does it. Black, white, male, female, working class, middle-class and well-off Government personal advisors – everybody.

Replies on arrest of “It’s a fair cop guv you got me bang to rights” went out of fashion with Dixon of Dock Green. I’ve shown shoplifters clear and undeniable CCTV evidence of them stealing items and even then they’ve responded “Nah I didn’t do it”. Sometimes it was a nice change to have a ‘no comment’ interview so I could have a break from listening to their lies.

Why do they do that? That’s easy – because they can. There is no penalty, no price to pay. We, the police, instantly forgive and forget all the lies and timewasting we’ve just endured. It’s extremely rare they will be charged with attempting to pervert the course of justice. But isn’t that exactly what lying to a police officer is?

And if I sound cynical it’s because I am. That’s my point really. I wasn’t at all cynical when I first joined the police. I was full of positivity and wanted to right all the wrongs in the world. So what happened? People lied to me. A lot.

It’s very common for a detainee to feign discomfort, perhaps complaining that the officer is assaulting them. “You’re hurting me” “I’ve got a bad arm/leg/back/wrist/shoulder…” The scale of this behaviour is often directly proportionate to the number of bystanders and number of iPhones recording the event.

Once in a police vehicle it’s common for a prisoner to complain “These handcuffs are too tight”. I would always check by slipping my little finger between the handcuff and the detainee’s wrist. They would usually be properly applied and double-locked, meaning they cannot self-tighten, and if not I’d quickly adjust. I’ve then watched dozens of times as the detainee bends their wrists deliberately against the metal cuff to cause red markings on their wrists. They can then show these marks to the Custody Sergeant to ‘prove’ the cuffs were on too tight. The Sergeant will record the ‘injury’ whilst unconcernedly rolling their eyes because it’s a trick they see every single day and three times every Friday and Saturday late shift. It’s just another form of lie.

But that’s a million miles away from Minneapolis, Minnesota, isn’t it?

No, not really because there have also been occasions when prisoners have collapsed in front of cops here in the UK and the police officers present have nonchalantly watched them die. Because they were cold-blooded psychopaths? No, because these cynical coppers had seen the scenario played out many times before. They didn’t believe them. They’d all had prisoners scream “You’re hurting me” when they hadn’t been hurt. They’d all had detainees say “I can’t breathe” when they could breathe perfectly well. I myself have heard that said many times.

But don’t think for one minute that I’m trying to defend Derek Chauvin. Let me assure you I have absolutely NO sympathy for him. He had had a duty of care to his detainee. A responsibility to carry out a dynamic risk assessment, which means checking he was using the minimum force necessary. Checking the detainee was safe, not in a dangerous position and not showing signs deteriorating health.

I’ve seen plenty of people on social media claiming “If you really can’t breathe then you can’t speak”. I’ve no idea if that’s true but in any case it’s a complete red herring inasmuch as there’s very little difference between someone saying “I can’t breathe” and saying “I’m having difficulty breathing” – both require an immediate risk assessment rather than a grammar check…

Derek Chauvin failed in his duty of care and in doing so made the job of police officers all over the world much more difficult and dangerous for many years to come.

Do I hold George Floyd in anyway culpable for the events that followed? Absolutely not. Once he became a compliant prisoner he had every right to expect his safety was guaranteed.

However, I do point an accusing finger at every prisoner before George Floyd that lied to Chauvin. Every one that feigned injury, every one that said “You’re hurting me” when they were unharmed and every single one that said “I can’t breathe” when actually they could breathe fine. I hold them all personally responsible for helping create and reinforce the cynicism that Derek Chauvin harboured.

I believe the UK police are the finest in the world. But we do need to address our institutionalised cynicism and the system needs to support us in that culture change. There’s no difference between lying to a police officer and lying to a judge. We’re both servants of the crown trying to uphold the laws of the land. Let’s make lying to a police officer an offence of perjury and let’s use it.

Maybe that’s setting the bar a little high. Busy cops having to prove additional offences to charging standard – that’s a big ask. Could we instead put the onus on our courts? I know that we already have credits given to defendants for early guilty pleas – but what about sentencing guidance to incorporate benefits for being honest with cops from the outset and serious consequences for not doing so?

We need to find a way to change behaviours. We need to stop normalising dishonesty – it’s helping to perpetuate the institutionalised cynicism within frontline policing.

And many will say that cynicism is justified because it’s the most effective way of policing criminality. That could well be true. Maybe that’s exactly what the public want – and we police by consent in the UK . The police are public servants and the community are entitled to have any policing style they choose. But who knows? The choice may be out with the cynical old ABC and instead let’s All Be the Change.

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Then the day before there was news that they would be open from 6 a.m. Was this a carefully thought out decision after liaising with Police Chiefs? Or a thoughtless stupid, last-minute knee-jerk announced after police forces had already organised their Operational Orders and staffing? Once again I’m leaning towards the latter.

Number 10 said it was a “precaution against midnight parties”. No mate it’s not a “precaution against midnight parties” it’s an extension of midnight parties!

I wasn’t tempted to go to the pub but the irresistible allure of barber shops reopening was a much bigger carrot… or more of a pineapple in my case. Something had to be done as I realised that I was turning into Vincent Price – or was it Vincent half-Price?

So I chanced it and went into town but I now regret asking for a Tin Tin

“Officer it was a vicious robbery – he attacked me from behind, made a right mess of my head and then took 15 quid off me!”…the crime report should have read.

My wife took one look at me, tutted and said “it’ll grow”, but I’m not sure if she meant the hair or the resentment.

As it was Saturday afternoon I decided to put my feet up and switched the telly on for some very physical testosterone fuelled live action. No not the football – the live Wetherspoons updates!

And it was pretty disappointing to start with. A few turned up for a 6 a.m. bacon butty washed down with a pint of Guinness (hard to resist I know) but not many.

Then people started to hit the pubs and bars and it became a very busy night for the herd immunity volunteers.

I’ve not always been a fan of police kettling tactics but I think it could be the answer here. Simply kettle them all in and see how many are left after a fortnight. The survivors get a bottle of Peroni and a free mask.

Seriously – that can’t be good though can it? If evolution continues to reverse at this rate then we’ll all be single-cell organisms clinging to a rock at the seaside before the century is out.

Maybe it’s Boris Johnson’s plan to kick-start the economy by converting Nightingales to Wetherspoons? I bet ventilators make cracking real ale pumps.

A lot of people felt that the media were focusing on the negative – and that disorder and assaults weren’t much different to a normal Saturday. But it’s not a ‘normal’ Saturday is it? And there shouldn’t have been ANY assaults (outside of your own ‘social bubble’ that is) because we have social distancing in place due to a pandemic.  Leaving economic imperatives aside, this was an opportunity for folk to go out for a drink whilst respecting social distancing – and it’s quite difficult to assault anyone when you’re two metres away.

People said “it’s nothing to worry about, just calm down and get off the outrage bus”. Well I’m sorry I can’t, because I got too pissed, fell asleep in my kebab and missed my last stop!

I do try and be open minded and in the interests of balance there’s another side to this. It’s become clear over a number of weeks that a growing substantial minority were no longer prepared to adhere to any lockdown. Would that have calmed down or got much worse? Once again I’m afraid I’m going for the latter. I’m not one to jump to the defence of Boris but I can’t help feeling if lockdown hadn’t started to officially be eased, then one way or the other people would have continued to take ‘liberty’ into their own hands – and that could’ve meant serious disorder on the streets and the police potentially losing control.

I do hope that all will be well and there won’t be a ‘second spike’ but at least the second wave will mean the barbers shutting again and me getting some hair back…

Anyhow- what’s the best way to get kebab stain off a face mask? #AskingForAFriend

Keep safe out there people,

Alfie

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