Neighbours, Everybody Needs Good Neighbourhood Policing
Rebuilding trust, community intelligence and policing by consent in a post-conflict society
Most police officers join the service because they want to make a positive difference. They work under immense pressure, face scrutiny from every direction and regularly encounter situations that most of us will thankfully never experience. It is entirely possible to respect the police while also asking difficult questions about how policing is delivered and where priorities lie.
As someone who worked as a civilian member of staff in two police forces in England, I saw first-hand the importance of neighbourhood policing and community intelligence. Looking at our own post-conflict society, I increasingly wonder whether we have drifted away from some of those fundamentals.
For most people, policing is not judged by major operations, intelligence-led investigations or headlines about organised crime. It is judged by what happens closer to home.
It is judged by whether officers are visible in their communities. Whether reports of antisocial behaviour are acted upon. Whether burglaries are investigated. Whether stolen vehicles are recovered. Whether victims feel supported. Whether people believe that reporting crime actually makes a difference.
The offences that concern ordinary people are often the so-called bread-and-butter crimes: antisocial behaviour, vandalism, intimidation, drug dealing, dwelling burglary, non-dwelling burglary, theft of motor vehicles, criminal damage and the countless low-level offences that gradually erode confidence within communities.
These crimes affect families, farmers, small business owners and entire neighbourhoods every day.
Yet there is a growing perception that when these offences are reported, little happens. Victims are often told that resources are stretched, evidential thresholds cannot be met or other priorities must take precedence. Those explanations may be entirely legitimate, but they do not alter the frustration felt by those living with the consequences.
The people most affected are often those who do exactly what society asks of them. They report crime. They provide information. They cooperate with investigations. They engage with the system.
When they feel ignored, confidence begins to decline.
In a post-conflict society, that matters enormously.
For decades, policing here has had to contend with challenges that many other parts of the United Kingdom have never faced. Terrorism, paramilitary activity, organised crime, public order issues and the legacy of conflict have understandably demanded considerable attention and resources.
However, there is a risk that everyday concerns become secondary.
Most people will never come into contact with counter-terrorism policing. They will, however, form opinions about policing based on whether their local problems are addressed. Public confidence is often built through everyday interactions rather than high-profile operations.
My experience in England taught me that community intelligence was regarded as one of the most valuable assets any police service could possess.
That intelligence did not come solely from databases, technology or specialist units. It came from officers walking the beat. It came from conversations with small business owners and farmers. It came from speaking to young people, attending community meetings, listening to concerns and maintaining a visible presence within neighbourhoods.
In short, it came from relationships.
Those relationships generated information, but more importantly they generated trust.
People are far more likely to share concerns when they know and trust the officer serving their area. Problems are identified earlier. Emerging issues are understood before they become crises. Communities feel heard.
That is what neighbourhood policing was designed to achieve.
There is another reason why neighbourhood policing matters, and it is one that is often overlooked.
Across the United Kingdom there is rightly a major focus on tackling domestic abuse, coercive control, sexual offending and violence against women and girls. These crimes are among the most difficult to investigate because they often occur behind closed doors and rely heavily on victims and witnesses having the confidence to come forward.
That confidence cannot be taken for granted.
Many victims spend months, and sometimes years, deciding whether to report what is happening to them. Others never come forward at all.
This is where neighbourhood policing has a role that goes far beyond dealing with antisocial behaviour or gathering intelligence.
People are more likely to speak to someone they know than someone they do not.
A victim experiencing domestic abuse may be far more willing to confide in an officer they have seen regularly in their community than a complete stranger who arrives following an emergency call. A witness who has information about violence, exploitation or coercive behaviour may be more inclined to come forward if they already know and trust the officer serving their area.
Trust is often built long before a crime is reported.
Neighbourhood officers develop an understanding of local families, local pressures and local dynamics. They understand the context of an area in a way that cannot always be captured in a report or intelligence system.
That local knowledge matters.
If we are serious about reducing domestic abuse and ending violence against women and girls, neighbourhood policing should not be viewed as separate from that mission. It should be recognised as one of the foundations upon which that mission depends.
The first step towards protecting victims is often creating an environment where they feel safe enough to speak.
Neighbourhood policing helps create that environment.
Of course, I am not naive about the realities facing policing here.
Unlike many other parts of the United Kingdom, there remain individuals and groups who would seek to harm, and in some cases murder, police officers and police staff simply because of the role they perform. That is an uncomfortable reality that officers and their families continue to live with every day.
Any discussion about neighbourhood policing must acknowledge that fact.
The challenges facing officers here are different. Visibility carries risks. Engagement carries risks. Activities that might be routine elsewhere often have to be viewed through a security lens.
However, acknowledging those threats should not lead us to conclude that meaningful neighbourhood engagement is impossible. In fact, I would argue the opposite.
The long-term answer to those who seek to undermine policing is not less engagement with communities but more meaningful engagement. The question is not whether neighbourhood policing can exist alongside legitimate security concerns. The question is how we continue to strengthen those relationships while recognising the realities officers face.
Trust is built through consistency. It is built through familiar faces. It is built through officers understanding the communities they serve and communities understanding the challenges officers face.
One of the most striking insights into modern policing came from the recent BBC documentary Peelers.
The programme offered a rare and honest glimpse into the realities faced by frontline officers and staff. What viewers saw was a profession operating under immense pressure, dealing with people at some of the most difficult moments of their lives and making decisions in circumstances that most of us will thankfully never experience.
What stood out to me was the expectation placed upon officers to absorb these experiences and simply carry on.
Too often, society expects police officers to function like machines. We expect them to move from one challenging and often traumatic situation to another, make difficult decisions under pressure, face criticism from every angle and somehow leave the emotional impact behind at the end of a shift.
But they cannot.
They are human beings.
The documentary also made me reflect on how policing is often presented to the public.
Many police services understandably highlight operational activity. Fast-moving incidents, emergency responses, major arrests and dramatic footage often attract attention. However, public confidence is not built solely through images of fast cars, tactical operations or officers wrestling offenders to the ground.
Those moments are part of policing, but they are not the whole story.
In fact, some of the most important work carried out by police officers and staff happens long after the sirens have fallen silent.
It happens when a family liaison officer supports relatives through the aftermath of tragedy. It happens when an officer spends weeks or months building enough trust for a victim to support a prosecution. It happens when neighbourhood officers work patiently with vulnerable individuals, local organisations and community leaders to resolve problems before they escalate.
I have experienced this personally following the death of my son, Joshua.
Our family liaison officers guided us through the worst day of our lives and continue to support us today. Nothing is ever considered a silly question. Nothing is ever viewed as too much to ask. At a time when families are trying to process unimaginable loss, they provide reassurance, professionalism and compassion in equal measure.
I have enormous respect for the officers who take on these roles.
Their work is rarely visible to the wider public, yet it represents policing at its very best. It is not about enforcement or authority. It is about humanity. It is about supporting people through circumstances they never imagined they would face.
Much of this work will never make headlines and, quite rightly, much of it must remain confidential. However, there may be value in showing more of these stories through anonymised case studies and behind-the-scenes insight into the people whose role is to support victims, build confidence and guide individuals through the criminal justice process.
Because this is where trust is often built.
Not during the pursuit.
Not during the arrest.
But afterwards.
Trust is built when victims feel listened to. It is built when families feel supported. It is built when people see professionalism, compassion and consistency during some of the most difficult moments of their lives.
If policing by consent depends upon public confidence, then perhaps we need to tell more of those stories too.
There is another uncomfortable reality that deserves discussion.
Despite decades of progress, there are still communities where some people continue to place trust in vigilante-style groups and informal forms of community enforcement.
I am not suggesting that this is right, nor am I suggesting such groups should have any role in policing. However, if we genuinely want to understand the challenge of policing by consent, we must be honest enough to ask why this phenomenon persists.
The answer, I believe, is often linked to confidence.
When people feel listened to, they engage with legitimate institutions. When they feel ignored, they look elsewhere.
For generations, some communities became accustomed to relying on organisations outside the formal justice system to deal with crime, antisocial behaviour and local disputes. While society has changed dramatically, the legacy of those arrangements has not disappeared entirely.
In many cases, support for such groups is not driven by hostility towards policing itself. Rather, it stems from a belief, whether justified or not, that certain problems are not being addressed.
When residents repeatedly report intimidation, drug dealing, theft, criminal damage or antisocial behaviour and see little visible outcome, frustration inevitably grows.
A vacuum begins to emerge.
History teaches us that whenever confidence in formal institutions weakens, alternative actors will attempt to fill the gap.
That is why neighbourhood policing matters so much.
Every time a resident feels listened to, every time information is acted upon and every time a local officer is visible and engaged, confidence in legitimate policing grows stronger.
Trust is not simply about legitimacy. It is also about effectiveness.
If we genuinely believe in policing by consent, then community engagement cannot be treated as an optional extra. It must sit at the very heart of policing.
Policing by consent is not achieved through slogans, public relations campaigns or carefully crafted statements. It is earned through visibility, responsiveness, accountability and relationships.
That brings me to a wider question.
How do we build trust in a post-conflict society?
For many years there has been an assumption that confidence in policing can be strengthened through endorsement from political parties and political leaders. While political support has its place, I increasingly believe that relying too heavily on politics is a mistake.
The reason is simple.
Across society, growing numbers of people feel disconnected from politics altogether. They are disillusioned with politicians of all shades. Many feel that political institutions no longer represent them and that there is an ever-widening gap between elected representatives and everyday life.
If people have lost confidence in politics, it is unrealistic to expect trust in policing to be built primarily through political endorsement.
Trust must be built differently.
It must be built through authentic engagement and credible voices within communities themselves.
One example that stands out to me is former world champion boxer Carl Frampton.
In his recent documentary work alongside probation services and individuals involved in the criminal justice system, viewers were not presented with a carefully managed narrative. There was no obvious agenda. There was no attempt to lecture people or force a particular viewpoint.
Instead, there were honest conversations, genuine engagement and a willingness to listen without judgement.
That authenticity matters.
People are more likely to trust individuals who are perceived as genuine than those who appear to be delivering rehearsed messages. Trust grows when people feel respected, listened to and understood.
Perhaps there is a lesson in that for policing.
Building confidence should not be viewed solely through a political lens. It should involve local communities, youth workers, sports clubs, schools, churches, voluntary organisations, victims of crime, former offenders who have turned their lives around and respected local figures who have earned trust through their actions rather than their titles.
In a post-conflict society, trust cannot be demanded and it cannot be manufactured. It is built slowly, conversation by conversation and relationship by relationship.
If we can inspire more conversations, encourage greater engagement and genuinely listen to those with lived experience, then I believe we can continue to shape a policing model that works better for everyone.
Too often, discussions about policing take place around communities rather than with them.
Yet some of the most valuable insights come from those who have experienced the criminal justice system, those who have been victims of crime, those who work with young people and those who serve on the frontline every day.
A post-conflict society is not built through silence. It is built through dialogue, trust and a willingness to learn from one another.
Policing by consent is not a destination that we reach and then forget about. It is a process that must be continually renewed.
If we can create more opportunities for honest conversations, free from political point-scoring and ideological baggage, then I believe we can continue to develop a model of policing that enjoys greater public confidence and deeper community support.
The most valuable intelligence often does not come from specialist operations or sophisticated technology.
It comes from knowing people.
It comes from understanding communities.
And it comes from being trusted enough that ordinary citizens are willing to speak up when something is wrong.
That, surely, is what policing by consent was always meant to be.
Love Frankly FiFi G
