8 Protests and Community Control Worksheet NOTE: Each of the following questions has noted a word-count at the end of each question. Hundreds of protests have occurred over police shootings in the las

Governance and Virtue: The Case of Public Order Policing Kevin Morrell •Stephen Brammer Received: 1 February 2014 / Accepted: 16 December 2014 / Published online: 28 December 2014 Springer Science+Business Media Dordrecht 2014 Abstract For Aristotle, virtues are neither transcendent nor universal, but socially interdependent; they need to be understood chronologically and with respect to character and context. This paper uses an Aristotelian lens to analyse an especially interesting context in which to study virtue— the state’s response when social order breaks down. During such periods, questions relating to right action by citizens, the state, and state agents are pronounced. To study this, we analyse data from interviews, observation, and docu- ments gathered during a 3-year study of riot policing in the U.K. In doing so, we contribute by joining a number of other conversations within JBE , suggesting detailed empirical examination of this context is useful in opening up considerations relevant to ‘virtue’ elsewhere. This extreme context helps us raise interesting and empirically informed questions that can encourage future theoretical and empirical contributions to virtue in business ethics.

One such question is on the role of habituation in virtue, which is not just the inculcation of a re ex or automaticity, but can also refer to a trained and developed tendency to behave in the right way, for the right reasons, at the right time. Whilst we stop short of a simplistic alignment of habituation and virtue, we show ways in which it can inform understanding of both courage and phrone ¯ sis . Keywords Aristotle Governance Habit Police Riot Virtue Introduction In some ways remarkably simple, the central question in virtue ethics is to ask how we can live a good life. In other words, what does it mean as a citizen, a parent, a friend, or simply a human being, to act in the right way, over time.

Virtue ethics is the oldest, most well-established approach to questions of appropriate action that we have, yet it remains of contemporary, indeed growing, interest within business ethics (Alves and Moreira 2013 ; Beadle 2013a ,b; Fontrodona et al. 2013 ; Koehn 2013 ; Morrell 2012 ; Rob- inson et al. 2013 ). Partly because there are many varieties of virtue ethics (Slote 1997 ), it is of wider relevance than other normative ethical systems in the sense it can be considered as compatible with both deontological and consequentialist approaches (Dierksmeier 2013 ; Morrell 2004 ), and an ethics of care (Slote 1997 ), in a way that is unlike the basic tension between Utilitarianism and Kant (Crisp and Slote 1997 ). There are, nonetheless, a number of problems with working with virtue. There is no transcendental appeal or principle that virtue ethicists can invoke to evaluate appropriate action in any given setting (MacIntyre 1984a , b , MacIntyre 1988 ). This is in contrast to Kant’s categor- ical imperative, Mill and Bentham’s recourse to a utility principle, or more contemporary theorists’ appeal to ulti- mate sanction in terms of privileging liberty (Nozick 1974 ), or equity (Rawls 1971 ). Virtue ethicists face the problem that no one virtue is super-ordinate, and nor is there a possibility of ranking virtues, or rendering them com- mensurate because in considering what constitutes virtuous K. Morrell ( &) Warwick Business School, University of Warwick, Coventry,UKe-mail: [email protected] S. Brammer Birmingham Business School, University of Birmingham,Birmingham, UKe-mail: [email protected] 123 J Bus Ethics (2016) 136:385–398 DOI 10.1007/s10551-014-2522-z action, context, and the development of character (Solo- mon1992) are all important. Virtue ethics is focused, ‘not so much on how to resolve problems as it is on how to live one’s life’ (McCracken et al.1998, p. 26), a central idea being ourishing (Alves and Moreira2013; Morrell2012; Sison and Fontrodona2012). Even ourishing is context sensitive though since it depends on a relation between the citizen and the state: Spartans can ourish, as can Athe- nians but they do it in different ways and in different contexts. Translating this to a business context, one could argue there can be personal ourishing within a corpora- tion, but if we view the corporation as polity, then there have to be interconnections between the individual and collective (Solomon1992,2004), and similar contextual relationships or dependencies, ‘demands of a civic repub- lican or communitarian kind of citizenship on the stake- holders of the corporate polity are altogether different’ (Sison and Fontrodona2012, p. 617). Although some (including Aristotle) have suggested there are at times pivotal or crowning virtues (his example is usually trans- lated as magnanimity), the meaning and expression of these will vary over time and with respect to context.

While research on virtue ethics has brought increasing sophistication in discussing the theoretical aspects of vir- tue, it has been recognized that there is a need for more empirical research in business ethics generally and virtue ethics in particular (Wright and Goodstein2007). Some recent contributions have sought to contribute to under- standing based on primary empirical research in virtue ethics (Moore2012; Payne et al.2011). Notable among these is Beadle’s recent (2013a) analysis (which we discuss in more detail below) of how British and Irish circus directors accounted for their working lives. This highlights the role of the virtue of constancy in supporting a sense of ‘‘calling’’ among circus directors. Notwithstanding the progress that has been made in recent years, there remains scope to contribute through empirical work, especially research using data suited to detailed analysis of micro- practices within institutional settings, or drawing on lon- gitudinal or historical data sources. This may prove illu- minating because virtues are tied to contexts, and because virtue theorists are partly interested in the development over time, of character. Here, we suggest empirical research can play a role in helping to understand important features of a context and associated practices. In turn, this can develop and strengthen the link between substantive and important philosophical questions concerning virtue and questions of a more applied nature.

Across different elds, theoretical development often comes about through examination of empirical settings. To contribute in this way here, we rst outline our perspective on virtue, based on Aristotle, and brie y review recent work in theJournal of Business Ethics (JBE). This indicates thereis potential to contribute to an ongoing conversation within the journal that has been predominantly (though not exclu- sively) theoretical, with more empirically rooted analysis.

Next, we introduce the context for our study, which we describe as an ‘outlier’ case: the governance and policing of large-scale public disorder or rioting. We argue for the rel- evance of this setting for consideration of virtue and discuss multi-source, multi-method data collected over a 3-year period of research studying riot police. 1In presenting and discussing preliminary ndings from this project, we iden- tify bene ts to using data of the kind we collected and analysed using different methods: narrative interviews, observation, and documentary analysis.

Virtue in Business Ethics: An Aristotelian Account and Focused Literature Review For Aristotle, questions of virtue in any sphere of practice are secondary to questions of what constitutes the good for human beings (Aristotle 1094a7–8). Still, rather than have recourse to some transcendent principle, questions relating to virtue are always tied in some way to certain kinds of contingencies. What virtue means depends partly on the characteristics of a particular context and partly on how we understand the developing moral character of the respon- sible agent. From a virtue perspective, if we are to ask what is the right thing to do in a given situation, we need to account, somehow, for the contingencies of that particular situation and the wider socio-historical conditions for action in that setting, as well as consider the life course and character of the agent taking that action. There are, more succinctly, both social (Koehn2013) and temporal com- plexities (Beadle2013a,b). In terms of social complexities, we need to be sensitive to a place, institution(s), a set of practices and traditions, and what we might refer to in shorthand as ‘culture’. In terms of temporal complexities, when we question whether someone did the right thing, we need to consider not just the action, but the overall life course of the agent (Drake and Schlachter2008).

These complexities make it a challenge to speak sensi- bly in the abstract of virtuous action, even though populist writers do and even though we would not want to abandon a commonsense understanding of what is virtuous (or vicious). These characteristics of virtue ethics are well 1We use ’riot police’ for concision and to aid accessibility, in fact ’public order police’ or, ’police carrying out a public order role’ could be more accurate alternatives. Within the U.K. unlike in many European countries, police are generalists and public order is the responsibility of most of cers who share a common base of training.

Public order itself is very varied and complex encompassing many different kinds of individual and collective phenomena and riots are comparatively rare. 386K. Morrell, S. Brammer 123 understood, and the issue of context-speci city has been a problem which scholars have engaged with for centuries:

the virtuous Spartan was different from the virtuous Athenian. Though it may be unsatisfactory that we have no transcendent principle or ultimate authority to resolve questions in virtue ethics, and that we must always attend to context, this problem is not fatal to any project to work with virtue. This does not mean that context is the only thing that determines or de nes virtue because (as we note above) Aristotle makes such questions secondary to con- sideration of the good. Nor does it make attempts to work out what virtue means in a given setting futile (Beadle 2013a,b), or mean we cannot seek for principles that work alongside a virtue framework (Mele´ 2009).

Even so, it is worth considering that unless we somehow link discussion of virtues to a context we have to discuss them at a level of generalization and abstraction. In itself, in any one paper, this can be worthwhile, for instance at a meta-theoretical level (Arjoon2000). However, if we develop a tendency to talk about virtues (like integrity) as though they are somehow free-standing—something an individual ‘has’—or that make up a certain ‘kind’ of per- son, or as if they are ‘traits’ (like introversion) this becomes problematic, and is an error in logic. Virtues may be part of what makes up character, and be embodied, but they are not traits in the way we understand personality traits to be. Personality traits, in terms of the dominant contemporary models in work psychology, are understood as component parts of personality, and as predictors of a tendency to behave. They are also embodied. Although there are commonalities, these things are all different from virtues which are learned, that continue to be developed in adulthood, and de ned interdependently with reference to a context and set of social norms. Virtues are also an expression of will (Foot1978) (traits such as openness and neuroticism are not understood to be this). A virtue per- spective, in terms of developing a basic contrast with traits, is less focused on personality and more interested in rela- tional identity.

Speaking of the kinds of virtues we may want people to have in a given setting does have the merit of making virtues more easily operationalizable and quanti able, and amenable to being measured and tested in the same way traits (such as openness or neuroticism) and states (such as organizational commitment or job satisfaction) are within the tradition of applied psychology research (e.g. Chun 2005). Furthermore, it also can support the building of abstract, generalizable models. However, there is a poten- tial disconnect between how virtue is operationalized in literature that advances models for testing that are highly generalized and the more nuanced considerations as to the theoretical underpinnings of virtue in Aristotle’s work (Hartman2011; Sison2003). This is because, ultimately,virtue theorists are interested in questions of character (Sison2008), and of the morality of agents in complex social worlds, rather than discrete acts, ‘in focusing on good and bad agents, virtue theorists…deemphasise dis- crete acts in favour of long-term, characteristic patterns of behaviour’ (Louden1997, p. 205).

In keeping with well-established traditions in moral phi- losophy, a great many discussions of virtue in business ethics are theoretical. 2Theoretical development often comes 2We examined the 30 most cited papers in theJournal of Business Ethics(JBE), whose authors referred to ’virtue(s)’ in the title of their paper; as well as similarly titled full papers (in print) in JBE in 2013.

Thirty were chosen as likely to yield a representatively large body of work, and a size large enough to allow us to read each paper carefully and independently, as well as to allow enough comparisons to test signi cance of classi cation outcomes. We also included six 2013 papers separately, to try to account for the fact that recently published papers will not have garnered citations yet, and because there was a special issue in JBE in this time given over to the practice of virtue (Fontrodona et al.2013). Inter-rater reliability on coding for ’primary data,’ ’secondary data,’ ’theoretical paper,’ ’cross-sectional,’ and ’longitudinal’ was all (p\0.001) using a binomial distribution. Of 36 highly cited papers on ’virtue’ in theJournal of Business Ethics, only eight use primary empirical data (Batson et al.2006; Beadle2013a,b; Chun2005; Lau and Wong2009; Murphy1999; Robinson et al.2013; Shanahan and Hyman2003). Most discussions of virtue are concep- tual (Alves and Moreira2013; Arjoon2000; Chismar2001; Dierksmeier2013; Gowri2007; Hartman2011; McAdams and Koppensteiner1992; Mele´ 2009; Nicholls2010; Parkan2008; Sethi 1994; Whetstone2001). Two papers analyse secondary data using recognizedly systematic methods: econometrics (Cai et al.2011) and content analysis (Chun2005), most either review secondary data or use it more illustratively (Crossan et al.2013; Hadreas2002; Jennings 1991; Koehn2013; Limbs and Fort2000; McCracken et al.1998; Marchese et al.2002; Parkan2008). Several papers focus on kinds of case (e.g. Bertland2009; Cavanagh and Bandsuch2002; Crockett 2005; Hartman and Beck-Dudley1999; Romar2002), at times these are quite detailed and context-speci c (Drake and Schlachter2008), but cases are also often explicitly introduced as anecdotal, ’let’s consider a true story’ (Crockett2005, p. 199), ’look at what happened to a friend of mine’ (Kurzynski1998, p. 76), or for teaching purposes (Mintz1996). When data are collected, it is cross section (Batson et al.2006; Beadle2013a,b; Chun2005; Lau and Wong2009; Murphy1999; Robinson et al.2013; Shanahan and Hyman2003); an exception—with secondary data—being Cai et al. (2011). At the same time, virtue scholars are likely to agree that to apply a virtue lens to a speci c setting requires an account of context, tradition, history, and social forces. It is more than a determination of what is appropriate action, or the solution to a quandary (McCracken et al.1998), it requires attention to particular complexities that in uence our considerations of whether something is likely to enhance the development of virtuous character. These elements—attention to history, tradition, situated complexity, and development of charac- ter—are necessary to arrive at a contextualized analysis. The brief review above focuses onJBE. This can be justi ed in the senseJBE publishes more work on virtue than any other business journal, and more empirical papers in business ethics, so such an analysis is more likely to re ect the practices of a sizable community of researchers.

Still, it does not take account of discussions (including empirical work) on virtue in cognate journals such asBusiness Ethics Quarterly (Beadle and Knight2012),Public Administration(Morrell and Harrington-Buhay2012), andOrganisation Studies(Nielsen2006). Governance and Virtue387 123 about through examination of empirical settings though. To contribute in this way here, we introduce the context for our study, an ‘outlier’ case: the policing of large-scale public disorder or rioting; and the training of police of cers. We argue for the relevance of this setting for consideration of virtue and discuss multi-source, multi-method data collected over a 3-year period of research. In presenting and dis- cussing preliminary ndings, we identify bene ts to using data of the kind we collected and analysed using different methods: narrative interviews and documentary analysis, and observation of training. We do not claim a de nitive account of virtue in this setting but believe that police training and some institutionalized practices can raise interesting and empirically informed questions. These can encourage future theoretical and empirical contributions to understand virtue in business ethics.

Context and Method In contributing to theory development, sometimes atypical contexts are helpful because they throw fundamental questions into relief. Though the bulk of writing in our eld concerns private corporations, ‘outliers’ can help us see elements that are common to, but less pronounced in, other settings. Particularly in case study research, the outlier is sometimes helpful, even exaggeratedly so, because it can offer more information about a theoretical point of interest (Thomas2011). This is analogous to how some experi- ments can be designed to isolate variables of particular interest. We draw on such an ‘outlier’ case, policing, and more particularly the policing of large-scale public disor- der. The policing of ‘public order’ in the U.K. (our context) is a very broad category that includes policing of individ- uals, but (the focus here) it is more typically associated with large-scale events such as demonstrations, protests, industrial action, and riots.

Partly because they have unique powers among public servants, the police are an interesting occupational group to study from the standpoint of business ethics. TheJournalof Business Ethicsitself has always employed a generous use of ‘business’ to encompass not just for-pro t corpora- tions, but public sector organizations, and also other kinds of coordinated activity and institutions (Michalos1982). In terms of speci c areas of activity that are central to the journal’s interests, the role of the police in governance is key when we consider the societal effects of ‘systems of production, consumption [and] labor relations’ (JBE aims and scope). More generally,JBEhas been from its inception concerned with attempts ‘to improve the human condition.’ Analysing the way policing is conducted with reference to the administration of the state is also important in this regard.

Though they can be compared to other public servants, across most developing and developed societies, the prin- cipal thing separating the police from other occupational groups is their entitlement to use force against the citizenry (Dick2005). These and related aspects, such as the need for the police to uphold civic liberties, the legal context for police work, the need for of cers to be individually accountable, and the need for discretion and situated judgement, make it an informative setting in which to consider questions relating to virtue. O’Kelly and Dubnick (2006, p. 402), in writing about North American policing, identify it as a paradigm case where there is an ongoing con ict between competing obligations that cannot be satis ed:

the moral obligation to do no harm to other individ- uals comes into direct con ict with the obligation to carry out one’s duty to protect the community—an obligation that may require the use of injurious force against another…to carry out one moral obligation, a law enforcement of cial may have to violate the other.

More speci cally, the actions of of cers during public disorder are particularly informative because it is in such situations that relations between the citizen and the state can be dramatically altered. During such periods of crisis, there can be pivotal changes in the narrative of the development of the state, or a political administration, and also in the development of individual people’s life stories.

Most basically, the breakdown of order in society pre- sents individuals from the police force and the citizenry with an array of threats, dilemmas, and possibilities for action that are not present in their everyday life. These are extreme circumstances, sometimes pivotal for societies or political administrations and also for individuals involved or affected. As such, they are often important in the indi- vidual narrative of someone’s life, as well as part of a broader narrative of social history or the legacy of an administration. During mass disorder, sections of the citi- zenry break deliberately with the rule of law. Sometimes, even though these are breaches of the law, mass uprisings Footnote 2 continued Also, we do not claim to have comprehensively evaluated uses of virtue ethics inJBEsince virtue scholars do not necessarily incor- porate virtue in the title (e.g. Koehn1998; Morrell and Clark2010; Sison and Fontrodona2013). Even so, this step is enough to sub- stantiate a general point that in talking about ’virtue’; at the level of our discipline, there may be more scope for theoretical development based on detailed empirical analysis of what virtue means in a par- ticular setting. Our analysis suggests only 8 of these 36 papers use primary data, only 2 analyse secondary data using recognizedly sys- tematic methods. Only one has a longitudinal design, and this is at a very high level of abstraction. It seems that the methods and data we use are not very often socially and temporally complex in the way virtues are.

388K. Morrell, S. Brammer 123 are judged to be virtuous: for instance in railing against an oppressive tyranny, or resisting inequity, or bringing about the fall of an unjust government. Citizens may then be confronted with the dilemma of whether to participate in disorder or to continue to behave lawfully. Mass public disorder also prompts stark dilemmas for individual police of cers who, as well as preserving order and public safety, should also protect civil liberties such as the right to pro- test. They may be immediately confronted with the con- sequences of their role in perpetuating the actions of the state, perhaps being well paid while policing an impover- ished or disenfranchised constituency. They may have to make split-second decisions that have dramatic conse- quences for others as they result in arrest or the use of force. They may exercise courage, or they may succumb to the corrupting in uence of being comparatively powerful.

These dilemmas extend from of cers at the front line, all the way up the command chain (Morrell and Currie, in press).

The discussion and analysis below draws on data as part of a longitudinal project looking at public order policing in the UK. From July 2010 to September 2013, research combined interviews with police of cers and retired of cers and observation of public order training. We recognize the lim- itations of not interviewing other stakeholders such as members of the public, community leaders and so on.

However, we make reference to some secondary data on the UK Autumn 2011 riots (transcripts of debate in parliament, written and oral evidence to a parliamentary Select Com- mittee and reports in Britain2012a,b,c; The Guardian2012; Lewis et al.2013; Metropolitan Police Service2012;Min- istry of Justice2011). Principal data sources are shown in Table1(below for reviewer’s convenience).

We began in June 2010 interviewing several long-serving or retired of cers with extensive experience of public order [primary research was carried out by Kevin, for parsimonythe paper uses ‘we’ or ‘us’]. Access to other interviewees and observation of training was negotiated through referral or ‘snowball’ sampling, appropriate where populations are hard to reach (Atkinson and Flint2001), and deemed the most suitable method as public order is a sensitive topic. Not all interviews were taped, but the combined length of those that were was c70,000 words. Standard ethical considerations (relating to anonymity, con dentiality, right to withdraw at any stage, right to retract, speak off record, and so on) were made explicit and observed.

The approach to interviewing was narratological, a way of understanding the world through stories and story-telling (narrativization), drawing on different methods for ana- lysing stories, and informed by literary analysis (Bal1985; Czarniawska2010). 3 Essentially, we collected stories relating to large-scale public disorder over the course of interviewees’ careers, probing in relation to critical inci- dents (Chell2004): a common anchoring question in interviews was ‘what was your most memorable public order incident?’ We took a broadly realist stance in ana- lysing stories, compatible with an Aristotelian perspective, and that more sensibly supported triangulation with observation and secondary data. The value of a narrato- logical approach is that even with cross-sectional research, such as a one-off interview, it allows insight into elements of chronology, sequence, and learning. For instance, Bea- dle’s (2013a) interview method was cross-sectional, but allowed insight into the passage of time, used (as here) to give insight into explicitly temporal aspects to personal narratives (learning and memories of pivotal incidents).

During 2011, the context of the empirical research unexpectedly changed as, in August, the UK experienced Table 1Overview of data sources Data sources Type of dataData sources Analytical approach Main role in analysis Interviews, taped Primary Transcripts Realist narrative/ biographical analysisRaw data eliciting stories Interviews, un-taped Primary Notes (during or shortly after) Phone calls, Skype calls, emails Primary Notes (during) Content analysis Sense-checking (jargon, procedures, legislation) Observation: Training Scenarios Primary Substantive eld notes First person, realist ethnographyRaw data critical incident Observation: Training Videos Secondary Video footage, authorized YouTube clipsRealist video ethnography Triangulation with primary observation Observational Data: (Strikes and Riots)Secondary Media and other Footage Realist video ethnography Triangulation with primary observation Documents: Select Committee Evidence, ReportsSecondary Transcripts, avail. onhttp:// www.parliament.org.ukRealist narrative/content analysisAnalyse accounts of other stakeholders 3Here we use ’story’ and ’narrative’ interchangeably, which is not to deny that it can be helpful to differentiate between the two (see Gabriel and Grif ths2004). Governance and Virtue389 123 four days of mass disorder on an unprecedented scale (over the next year more than 3,000 people were taken to court for offences relating to the disorder; Ministry of Justice 2012). This, and related data sources, became the empirical focus for primary research, although in the immediate aftermath of the riots we prioritised analysing contempo- raneous secondary data. This was because such data were detailed and plentiful but also because we found it dif cult to gain access to of cers at a time that was politically sensitive. Later, through 2012 and 2013 additional inter- views were carried out with a wider group of of cers.

Here we introduce preliminary ndings—concentrating on interviews with of cers who had a particular specialism in public order and who all had a minimum of 10-year service—with one exception as described below.

To provide analytical focus, in discussing ndings, we concentrate on ethical problems (described above), which come about because mass disorder is an extreme situation, presenting the citizenry and the police with an atypical state of affairs, and one that can be pivotal for societies and the individuals involved. In doing so, we consider virtue in relation to the actions of police during public disorder. A number of provisos should be made explicit prior to introducing and discussing our ndings.

First, we are not equating appropriate action with lawful action. Though there is overlap—at times we believe ille- gal action can be virtuous, and at times to behave lawfully may not be virtuous—this is the dilemma at the heart of Sophocles’ playAntigone, itself instruction in virtue (Nussbaum2001). Social progress is often marked by protests and demonstrations that are unlawful, but which lead to changed legislation. This is particularly worth emphasizing perhaps since Aristotle was conservative with regard to the institutions of the state. The importance of freedom and equality for individual citizens is either underplayed or even absent in Aristotle’s vision of the polis—governed by a minority, male elite with, ‘a single moral perspective and…enough wealth to live at leisure and hold political of ce without pay’ (Kraut2002, p. vii).

A virtue of thepolisfor Aristotle, perhaps unsurprisingly so given the ravages of war in ancient Greece, is it provides stability. Consequently, in terms of the relationship between the state and its citizenry, Aristotle seems to have regarded a weak or vicious government as preferable to no government at all and is more sensibly understood as a traditionalist than as someone who will support mass dis- order (although see Goldstein2001).

Second, we are not suggesting the police always act virtuously during disorder, whether they act lawfully or not. Nor are we suggesting that the police we interviewed always acted virtuously or are exceptionally virtuous either as police of cers or citizens. Neither are we suggesting the police are a virtuous force within society, or that theappropriate default position in considering mass disorder is to see those attempting to restore order as on the side of the good. Instead, we propose this as an interesting context in which to examine virtue because actions during such events illustrate the importance of attention to contextual contingencies and also highlight the development of char- acter over time. Below, in data from our interviews (sup- plemented with additional data sources), we present our ndings whilst discussing four such features of this setting which we that think illustrate the potential value of an empirical approach in informing theoretical considerations relevant to ‘virtue.’ Discussion Giving an Account of Actions As the extracts below show, accounts of actions by of cers are rehearsed, documented, indexical, and institutionalized.

The reason this is signi cant in the context of virtue is it illustrates the two aspects of contingency and development of character.

…you think it through in your own mind…you think it through as you write in your pocketbook or a statement, ‘I did that because I was thinking that’… and all the time you justify, ‘I did that because of that.’ And there are [pause] I’ve stood in the witness box, I’ve stood in front of the gaffer and said, ‘I did this because of this, this and this.’ And you can feel under pressure thinking at times. ‘Did I make the right decision or didn’t I?’Keith, Retired Of cer, Public Order Specialist.

…the more you write down about your thinking as well the better. I mean we constantly face, you know, legal challenge whether it’s through judicial reviews or other direct litigation, you know, through…civil courts…And we try and write, start writing as much down as possible…what am I thinking about? What am I concerned about …that can really help you afterwards…helping understand the things that were going through your mind at the time‘Ant’,Public Order Commander.

Keith is discussing the way he would be called to account for use of force in situations such as mass disorder (the broader context for this interview was a protracted, at times very violent, industrial dispute). ‘Ant’ was describing dilemmatic choices in policing disorderly crowds, where some people are caught up in disorder.

In both settings there is a need for action to be described in great detail because of the potential seriousness of the consequences of using force, or curtailing liberties. Whether 390K. Morrell, S. Brammer 123 activity is deemed lawful, necessary and appropriate depends not just on legislation but on an assessment of the contingencies of each situation. Keith’s personal—what could be called ‘storying’ (Sims2003) of events: ‘you think it through,’ ‘I was thinking,’ and ‘you write in your pock- etbook’—is a form of rehearsal for a public story that is instantiated and made concrete through particular actions, and kinds of professional being, ‘I’ve stood in the witness box, I’ve stood in front of the gaffer and said’ (‘gaffer’ is slang for a superior of cer). The in uence rehearsal of this kind that has on the development of character is suggested in the above extract with Keith’s emphasis on personal iden- tity, ‘you can feel under pressure thinking at times. ‘Did I make the right decision or didn’t I.’’ Similarly, Ant’s learned habit of documenting is not just for external scrutiny but helps aid recall of decisions in complex environments.

Police of cers are also often called on to speak whilst being recorded, for instance when interviewing suspects.

These extracts show how accounts of work, actions, and identity are bound together with consideration of the con- text. We are not saying being called to account automati- cally results in the cultivation of virtue, but it may be we can link to the ancient (Socratic) idea that ethical behaviour involves being able to give an account of one’s actions.

Presumably, we want those who are entitled to exercise force to be able to account for why they have done so after the event. Also, we presumably want them to think about whether they would be able to justify the use of force before the event. Storying, or repeatedly giving an account, and a set of institutional practices supporting this may be the only way to cultivate this skill. Alternatively, it could be an institutionalized vice if people became practised at getting their ‘story straight’ rather than recording what happened truthfully. In an individual, it might accelerate development of a vicious character.

It is dif cult to generalize, partly because we have chosen an extreme case, but even so, giving an account is clearly a notable aspect of work in this setting and worth considering as to whether this could have implications in other settings. Police of cers have to record critical deci- sions contemporaneously or very shortly afterwards. These records are speci c and indexical in different ways (with reference to time, place, other parties, and their actions).

The records are handed over shortly after the event, they belong to the institution not the individual, and they are potentially scrutinized in an open court. All of these would contrast with what we might expect to know about a con- sequential political or business decision, for instance to introduce a tax, or to close a factory. Often these decisions would be made by an individual but attributed to a col- lective (the Cabinet, or a Board), there would be no pub- licly available minutes of the relevant meeting, and a rationale (if given) would be prepared by others than thosewho took the decision (such as ‘spin doctors’ or a public relations department).

Remaining Individually Responsible One assumption we had before interviewing and observing of cers was that, during riot situations, of cers would have little discretion over how to act. A well-known characteristic of police work is that it is dilemmatic (Brown1988), but emergency service organizations are also sometimes described as having two modes of operation: an operational or routine mode, and a crisis mode. We anticipated that during crisis mode there would be much more of a command and control structure, with front line of cers being given orders to carry out. In interviews, and also observation of riot training and footage of riots, it was noticeable that individual of cers continued to experience this dilemmatic aspect to policing. They still had decisions to make, even when con- fronted with apparently simple and monolithic phenomena such as a rioting crowd. Consequently, those at the front line remain individually responsible even in situations where, from a distance, police presence and response could seem homogenous and militaristic. This came through in two explanations for use of force:

the of cer has to have in their own mind that honest held belief that that’s going to be a lawful use of power, just as much as an of cer in line with all his colleagues with a baton [pause] every baton strike you do isn’t under some kind of general order, ‘hit them’, it’s ‘I’m making up my own mind that it is proportionate and necessary to hit this particular demonstrator because of the threat they pose’Arthur, Public Order Commander you can be told what to do and where to go, you can be told to draw your baton and use force but to actually make the decision to get hands-on with someone and to strike them is your responsibility and you are held solely accountable for that and each strike is in itself a separate use of forceAndrew, Front-line Specialist in Public Order with 2 years experience as a PC.

Again, in both cases, each of cer emphasizes the impor- tance of being able to account for their decision, for which they are individually responsible.

It is interesting to consider responsibility in relation to the citizenry participating in large-scale disorder in Autumn 2011. Rather than in some way excuse people for being swept up by a phenomenon, the UK courts took a harsh approach to sentencing rioters, to provide a deterrent effect. This mood was re ected in comments by the Prime Minister and Members of Parliament in a day the UK House of Commons was recalled to debate the riots:

Governance and Virtue391 123 the Sentencing Council says that those people found guilty of violence on our streets should expect to have a custodial sentenceDavid Cameron, Prime Minister.

Can he [Prime Minister Cameron] assure my con- stituents that those who are found guilty of being caught up in this mayhem will feel the full force of the law, including prison sentences?Angie Bray, MP for Ealing and Central Acton These extracts show that not only were individual rioters held responsible, irrespective of others’ actions: they were actually punished more severely for choosing to take part and joining in with the actions of rioters. This aspect of remaining individually responsible seemed important to us, since often attributions of vicious conduct in management, in terms of corporate scandals, or large-scale failure are explained in rather vague terms, with reference to diffuse phenomena. For instance, Treasury Secretary Geithner’s testimony before the congressional oversight panel explained the Global Financial Crisis in terms of ‘risk appetite,’ ‘systemic risk,’ ‘distress in money markets,’ ‘ nancial stress,’ and ‘deep-seated problems’ (U.S. Trea- sury2009); there is almost a routine reference to ‘culture’ in discussions of Enron, Worldcom et al. But in riots, notwithstanding the extreme and atypical climate for action, the speed with which situations unfold, and crowd-level phenomena, there is an obvious need for people on all sides to remain responsible as individuals.

Habituation and Judgement We think that training in scenarios, and experience in the eld, could be understood in terms of either of two senses that the term habituation has taken on in translations of Aristotle’s account of virtue (Ryle1945; Sorabji1973).

Habituation could be a more subtle kind of habit devel- opment—if we think about it in terms of the development of judgement. Alternatively, habituation could be a kind of drilling that makes someone accustomed to and inured to, or numb to some of the effects of danger and risk. We deliberately stop short of making any simple or straight- forward claim that the following examples show how habituation can lead directly to particular moral virtues such as courage, or intellectual virtues such asphrone ¯sis (Shotter and Tsoukas2014; Tsoukas and Shotter2014). At the same time, we did nd evidence that we thought sug- gested habituation could be relevant to the development of character in this context, more particularly in relation to the role of emotion in decision making.

Part of what appeals to us about Aristotle’s account of virtue is that emotion is not seen as a distraction or as in some way compromising decision making but as in someway usefully informing and shaping decisions. Emotions can also be trained. 4For instance, Aristotle says that being angry in and of itself is not problematic provided one is angry at the right things, with the right people, for the right length of time (Aristotle 1125b32–3). Keith contrasted the circumstances under which decisions are made from the conditions under which the same decisions are evaluated:

I’ve had that thought go through my mind, thinking, ‘he wants to kill me,’ thinking about it, that in itself gets adrenalin going but you still want me to make the same calm, rational decision as if we’re sat here talking about it now…one of the most dif cult things about being a police of cer [is] remaining calm and making that rational decision that people will still see as the right decision at ten o’clock the next morning or 6 months later when you’re stood in the witness box Although Keith describes the need to take ‘that rational’ decision, from an Aristotelian perspective there is not the separation between emotion and reason this implies.

Clearly this kind of decision process is not one occurring in the absence of emotion. It is taking place while Keith is thinking, ‘he wants to kill me,’ but it is where emotions have been trained. One could not really recreate such a scenario in training but Dan, a very experienced public order commander, referred interestingly to a reliance on training, hoping the effects of it would ‘kick in’ when describing having to clear a 300 metre street of hostile crowd:

it was a very, very tense situation and my heart was certainly racing and my blood was racing…I was very conscious of losing my colleagues either side [the risk of] being dragged into the crowd was very, very high. So that kind of awareness, when you’re, the adrenaline is pumping your vision becomes very much restricted—tunnel vision…hopefully in that situation your training kicks in because your ability to make decisions is considerably restricted.

Dan went on to give a very rich account of the relationship between training and the reality, when it came to the experience of being personally attacked:

training tries to prepare you for the unknown so when you meet a similar situation you instinctively know what to do and I’ve been overwhelmingly impressed by how that has worked for me in policing, for example when I am being attacked as a PC out on the street, or a Sergeant, it’s amazing how you do step into your self-defence mode, issue the instructions 4We are grateful to an anonymous reviewer on this point. 392K. Morrell, S. Brammer 123 and before you know it you say, ‘oh my god, I’m dealing with this situation without even thinking because my training has taught me to do that’.

Across Keith and Dan’s cases we think there is an argument to be made for seeing this as the development of kinds of habit and then in turn as supporting decision making or judgement consistent with the development of character. We are not, to emphasize, drawing such a simple equivalence as: training leads to habit leads to virtue. Even if we traced the life course of an of cer before joining the force, through training and up to and including witnessing a speci c incident, it would be dif cult to draw these kinds of equivalence. Nonetheless, in a civilized society, one would want a police of cer who was being attacked (with their powers and equipment, and likely superior ghting skills), to behave in such a way that the safety of their assailant was preserved—as long as and only if they could preserve their own safety. The kinds of response we would want of cers to exhibit would be very dif cult to accomplish without training that made some elements of this second nature, given the rush of fear and adrenalin, and also at times excitement.

Interestingly, the second extract from Dan describes automaticity ‘‘before you know it you say, ‘oh my god, I’m dealing with this’’’ but he distinguishes two forms of auto- matic action. This automaticity applies both to preserving his personal safety, ‘‘step into your self-defence mode’’ and to following arrest procedure ‘‘issue the instructions’’—a more formal and explicit decision process he would be accountable for. Whether it is correct to describe this in terms of virtues such as bravery and practical wisdom, or as ‘‘merely’’ owing to training, or as some combination, is very dif cult, but Rorty’s (1970) account of rst- and second- order habits may be useful here. Training may instil some primal, rst-order habits to do with physical protection, with these being purely a matter of instinct. But the presence of these rst-order instincts may mean that there is a scaf- folding or platform that can support carrying out other kinds of actions, such as second-order habits that are more to do with higher-level decision making.

There are also points of resonance here with Aristotle’s account (1116b4–1117b27) of ve kinds of courage, which makes reference to speci c contexts in which courage may be displayed (politics, war) or certain embodied charac- teristics that in uence whether someone can appropriately be called courageous (emotion, sanguinity, ignorance). 5 The second of the ve kinds is courage as ‘experience with regard to particular facts,’ and in this, Aristotle suggests that some things which seem to be courage are not really courage. Experienced soldiers ght with con dencebecause they are like armed men ghting against unarmed men and they are not as phased by false alarms. They may also ee while civilians in the same situation might stay since they have got more of a fear of disgrace. Our analysis suggests that it is helpful in some ways to think of this not in terms of a speci c virtue (courage) but to consider instead the role of institutionalized routines and practices and how these might relate to virtue.

Policing during such crisis situations offers an example where, normatively at least, there is an underpinning gov- ernance framework, in terms of the law, and a set of institutional practices that try to document the way in which a particular event in its complexity is mapped onto a general infrastructure. Yet of cers remain aware of the role emotion plays in informing, or potentially compromising, effective decisions.

Habituation as Drilling Unlike Kantian and Utilitarian systems, which rely on the application of a universal principle, and are thus in a sense cross-sectional (though see Dierksmeier2013), virtue ethics emphasizes not only learned and embodied but also social qualities. There is a paradox at the heart of training for mass disorder though. Large bureaucracies such as the police are tasked with preparing for and routinizing the unpredictable.

There is a need for common procedures to ensure stan- dardization, for health and safety reasons, to minimize exposures and also to deliver training within a certain bud- get. At the same time, however, a recurring theme in interviews was that public order incidents are unique in some way. Mass public disorder and events, such as riots, are extremely rare, nonetheless the police have to prepare for them. Richard, a Public Order Commander described this in terms of what would typically happen with the most specialist units who are often held back in reserve:

if they’ve had 100 deployments…to actually get out of the van, to actually use a word of command that you’ve used in training…is one out of a 100, one out of more than 100 because generally speaking you’re there, you’re doing crowd control so you’re just locked in a cordon, you’re not going to run in line and form a wedge and you know, show of strength and all of the tactics, you’re just you know, in real life it’s restrained to sitting in a van, standing and looking at people.

In attempts to reproduce delity in training scenarios, we found certain elements of public order training were more pronounced and potentially more violent or physically hazardous than the typical experience of actual public order scenarios. Richard went on to describe his force’s approach to training:

5We are grateful to an anonymous reviewer on drawing our attention to this passage.

Governance and Virtue393 123 [Force name withheld] has got a reputation within the region of being very robust in its training. When we do have the regional exercises, there’s always little comments that we seem to be a bit more erce or violent in the exercises than the other forces…we train very, very hard and if I was to make an instantaneous re ection…the reality is never any- where near as dif cult and as taxing as the training.

Interestingly, and again in relation to emotion, we also found evidence of the ‘drilled’ nature to habituation in one of cer, Alan’s account of his rst riot:

I remember running towards the crowd, and the crowd were throwing half house bricks, and I remember seeing the half house bricks in the air. I can remember them landing, and they appeared to bounce, and it just amazed me, but the training was so good that we’d had, I didn’t really feel any emotion. I didn’t feel fear at all, and the thoughts that were going through my head when I saw these bricks and we were running forward with our shields, my thoughts were, this is just like training.

At times we could see that drilling, albeit leading to automatic behaviour might still improve commander’s judgement, suggesting that the dichotomy between habit- uation as drilling and as supporting wise judgement was not so clear cut as is sometimes suggested (Ryle1945).

One commander described a training exercise where he continued talking on the radio calmly even though he was in the midst of a barrage of bricks:

I can remember talking on the radio and I remember a brick hitting me in the head as I’m talking on the radio and it just felt a bit like the kind of Terminator moment, you know, where the kind of head gets knocked off sideways sort of thing and he comes back up slowly, you know, and carried on talking.

One can imagine that such training is effective in making someone more hardened or as Aristotle says, ‘not as phased by false alarms.’ In this example, the resistance or imperviousness to a brick might not be courageous—if it is unthinking—rather than the expression of will, but one can imagine it could still support wiser judgement.

During observation of training, one interesting feature of watching of cers prepare for a regional training day was to see how their day began with practising how to deal with petrol bombs. Sometimes called Molotov cocktails, these are large glass bottles lled with petrol where the petrol is held in place by a piece of twisted cloth. The cloth soaked in petrol also acts as a primitive fuse. Lighting the cloth, then throwing the bottle results in a burst of ame when the glass shatters and the petrol inside the bottle ignites andspreads. As Kevin was being shown around the training facility, he could see ranks of of cers lining up in groups of three, and in a very measured way (in protective clothing), walking through the ames caused by a petrol bomb. Part of the skill involved in doing this is doing it collectively and in step with colleagues, so habituation is not just about the individual but about the development of an institu- tionalized and collective skill. One trainer was ushering the of cers through the ames, at times advising how to stamp these out, another trainer was repeatedly picking up and lighting petrol bombs before throwing them at the feet of the next rank of of cers. This seemed another instance of of cers being trained, not simply to use judgment and work correctly together, but also trained in terms of their emo- tions. Although this seemed closer to the sense of habitu- ation as drilling, and without lionizing these of cers, as an outside observer, it was thought-provoking to see people literally walking through re to start their day’s work.

Conclusion To be truly human for Aristotle requires the presence of the state, this is why in thePolitics(1253a19–30), he says the state (thepolis) is prior to the individual. For Aristotle, the good citizen and the good state are de ned relationally.

Here we have studied a third actor for whom there is no direct equivalent in Aristotle’s work—the police, who during riots can be seen either as representatives of the state or as guardians of the public (or as guardians of certain constituencies from among a fragmented public).

When confronted with a riot or mass disorder, the impli- cation of this relational link between citizen and state is that a society should question the degree to which it is culpable for having created the conditions under which rioting occurs (Morrell2012). Riots are interesting phe- nomena in various ways. As empirical settings, riots present both police and other citizens with potentially life- altering situations: ‘moments’ (Lefebvre2002) where unique possibilities for action present themselves because everyday order is disrupted and social relations can be inverted or dramatically shift. In analysing such moments, here, the paper draws on Aristotle’s account of virtue to consider aspects of police work during public disorder.

Aristotle’s framework is both pre-eminent and seminal, yet as the introduction to the paper argues, it is not always applied to consider empirical settings in depth. There is potential incoherence here in that Aristotle was himself the rst great empiricist, and also our discipline of business ethics is an applied one. This suggests there may be scope to enhance our understanding of virtue since it is rare to see an account of virtue developed with reference to data from a speci c context and a speci c set of practices. 394K. Morrell, S. Brammer 123 If we want to retain Aristotle’s account of virtue ethics, and use this to inform our understanding of business, we also need to acknowledge that there are a number of things which are uncomfortable in terms of Aristotle’s account of how thepolisshould be governed. He is sometimes— mistakenly in our view—interpreted as believing that some people are naturally slaves, with the attendant belief that some are naturally masters. Aristotle is also often taken to advocate the exclusion and subjugation of women, which many say is too simplistic a reading (Dobbs1996; Nichols 1992; Swanson1992). Even so, he certainly can be recruited in different ways: as a defender of the powerful, the rich and of elites, and, although primarily used as an ethicist, his political philosophy as a whole clearly comes into tension with the contemporary Western intellectual climate of liberalism. Nussbaum (2001, p. xx) describes his ‘ rst and most striking defect’ as being ‘the absence…of any sense of universal human dignity, a fortiori of the idea that the worth and dignity of human beings is equal.’ It is also perhaps understated, but Aristotle himself does not say very much about ‘business ethics’ (in the sense of com- mercial activity for pro t) (Michalos2008)—there is in some ways a parallel concern with how MacIntyre’s work on virtue has been (mis)appropriated (Beadle2008).

Yet one thing that Aristotle does offer is the original and in our view the most comprehensive, account of the aetiol- ogy and nature of virtue, which extends to considerations of ethics as well as politics, aesthetics, and rhetoric (Morrell 2012). He grounds this in an account of biology and, for all the limitations with that ancient work, in doing so he is able to talk coherently about temporal complexities such as the role of habit as well as the in uence of emotion. Another key feature of Aristotle’s account of virtue is that the indi- vidual and the group are related recursively. The good cit- izen is possible because of the goodpolisand vice versa.

Social complexity extends not just to considering contin- gencies and the particular circumstances of any one action, but it also extends to considering relations between the individual and their social group. The setting of large-scale public disorder is a useful and illustrative one to consider the different aspects of his account and the value of considering virtue in light of political arrangements and habituation.

Virtues are learned over time and ‘tradition-constituted’ (Fives2008, p. 169), in other words they only make sense in terms of the context in which one develops character (Arjoon2000). Rather than being assigned to individuals at any one moment in a cross-sectional way, or in some sense carried by, or within individual agents (like traits are), virtues are more complex. They need to be seen in light of the development of someone’s character over their entire life course or over the entire time that they inhabit a role.

The meaning of an action and its status in terms of virtue is socially complex and also stretches in time—bothprospectively in terms of someone’s development and also retrospectively in terms of its historical context. This lon- gitudinal aspect is complicated because virtue is interde- pendent: de ned relationally with reference to other people and groups, and also rooted in the values, and mores of a society or collective. Bright et al.’s recent review (2014, p. 452) observes ‘[w]e need a holistic understanding of virtue that accounts for both character and behavior in context.’ In a sense, we cannot get very far talking about virtues in the abstract; they need to be understood in terms of a way of doing things. This entails consideration of an individual moral agent or character, but also a group and a context in all its historicity. A limitation of this study is that our data do not let us speak to topics such as gender, race, and culture (though see *reference withheld*). Police work at street level regularly involves ascribing categorical judgements, to do with illegality or risk, and these are associated with strong senses of occupational identity and homogeneity in culture (Bayley and Mendelsohn1969; Harris1973; Van Maanen1975). Sometimes this can be to the detriment not just of the public but also of other police of cers, for instance female of cers who experience dis- crimination (Brown1998; Holdaway and Parker1998), potentially as part of a ‘hegemonically masculine’ culture (Fielding1994) or through sexualised ‘banter’ (Dick and Cassell2004). The wider topic of police culture is beyond our scope, but this is a potential consideration for future work, since the interviewees we spoke to were predomi- nantly male, re ecting that public order policing is gen- dered. In common with some other street-level bureaucrats (Lipsky1980), but more dramatically and instantly, judgements by police of cers actually produce member- ship of social categories, changing the identity of members of the public to suspect, witness, victim, and arrestee.

These can be understood as acts of ‘Othering’ and as such they ultimately rest on judgments by police of cers about their own identities (Collinson2006): that they are tasked with various duties and responsibilities, competent and suf ciently equipped to discharge these responsibilities, governed by a statutory framework and accountabilities, and so on.

A strength of this study is multi-source, multi-site lon- gitudinal primary data, based on observing and interview- ing police of cers. We reiterate that we do not claim to have identi ed virtue in of cers nor to have analysed a virtuous system. Nor do we draw an equivalence between training, habit, and virtue. However, we do raise interesting and empirically informed considerations in terms of the role habituation can play in supporting the cultivation of virtues. In doing so, we differentiate between different senses of habituation (Ryle1945) as drilling or automa- ticity, and habituation as supporting judgement. In doing Governance and Virtue395 123 so, we add some empirical esh to Rorty’s (1970) idea of rst- and second-order habits. As we have suggested, in- depth analysis of an empirical setting can raise interesting questions that may perhaps not be broached in purely theoretical discussion. It may also lead to richer and more nuanced cases to study and to discuss. Each of these things may be helpful, given a literature that is predominantly theoretical, but which ultimately concerns an applied discipline.

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