Читать книгу Scaling Force - Rory Miller - Страница 8
ОглавлениеAll conflicts are not created equal. Sometimes your life is on the line, while other times it’s just your ego. You might be able to choose whether or not to get involved, or you may find yourself with no option but to fight. The perfect response to one situation could easily prove disastrous in another. Win or lose, however, when things get physical, there will be consequences. Those consequences can be life-altering.
Some violence can be staved off simply by presence, that is, looking and acting like you’re more trouble than you’re worth. Bad guys don’t want to fight; they want to win. And they rarely mess with alert, prepared targets. You can use words to defuse many situations, or apply calming or directive touch to reach resolution without injury. But not always. Sometimes empty-hand restraint is required, particularly if you need to control a situation without seriously hurting anyone; bouncers, security guards, and law enforcement officers routinely use such techniques. Other times, less-lethal or even lethal force is necessary to save your life or that of a loved one.
These choices form a continuum, a set of options that may be drawn upon to resolve any situation you encounter:
1. Presence—use of techniques designed to stave off violence via posture or body language that warns adversaries of your readiness and ability to act or that poses no threat to another’s ego.
2. Voice—use of techniques designed to verbally de-escalate conflict before physical methods become necessary.
3. Touch—use of techniques designed to defuse impending violence or gain compliance via calming or directive touch.
4. Empty-hand restraint—use of techniques designed to control an aggressor through pain, or force compliance through leverage.
5. Less-lethal force—use of techniques or implements designed to incapacitate an aggressor while minimizing the likelihood of fatality or permanent injury.
6. Lethal force—use of techniques or implements likely to cause death or permanent injury.
It’s very important to enter this force scale at the right level. If you use too much or too little force, you are in for a world of hurt. Consequently, it is vital to understand the various options, knowing how and when to apply them judiciously.
It was May of 2004 when 29-year-old Jose de Jesus brought an eight-inch butcher knife to Herald Square in Manhattan, a popular tourist spot. A guy with a long history of severe mental problems, he had violently assaulted others, including relatives, before. Nearly killed one. And he planned to do so again.
Without warning, he pulled out the knife, randomly attacked 21-year-old Dmitri Malaeyeva, stabbing him in the chest. As his first victim fell, trying desperately to stem the bleeding while drawing a tortured breath through his punctured lung, de Jesus turned on another passerby and plunged the knife into his flesh.
Screaming in terror, most bystanders began running from the scene. Some dialed 911 on their cell phones. But George Robbins, a 34-year-old graphic artist, could not stand by watching the mayhem and do nothing. So he ran toward the madman, hoping to thwart his attack. Weaponless, his heroic attempt failed, and he became de Jesus’ next victim.
As Robbins fell to the ground hemorrhaging, Harold Getter rushed in and tried to disarm de Jesus. The 49-year-old security guard was unarmed and his martial skills were no match for the maniac and his knife. In moments Getter also became a victim.
And then an NYPD officer arrived.
Working with a squad assigned to thwart shoplifters in Herald Square, Officer Mary Beth Diaz was in the area, heard the screams, and rushed toward the scene. She was 23-years-old, just five months out of the Academy.
“Police!” she screamed.
De Jesus turned to face her and began stalking forward brandishing his knife.
Officer Diaz drew her duty weapon, a 9MM handgun. “Drop the knife,” she shouted. When he kept coming she repeated it again. “Drop the knife! Drop the knife!”
He was only ten feet away when she opened fire. Her single shot entered de Jesus’ lower abdomen and smashed into his hip, shattering the bone. He screamed, doubled over, and collapsed to the ground. He continued to writhe and shriek as she disarmed and handcuffed him, ending the carnage.
De Jesus and his four victims were rushed to Bellevue Hospital, where miraculously, no one died, not even the perpetrator. Malaeyeva, who had the most grievous injuries, was listed in fair condition by his doctors later that evening. De Jesus was also listed in fair condition after surgery. He told detectives that he had wanted to die and was hoping to goad a police officer into killing him by randomly stabbing and slashing people.
Officer Diaz was consoled by other officers and treated for trauma at the hospital. Afterward she told a reporter, “Thank God the guy is alive. Thank God I stopped him before he hurt someone else.”
If you try to use Level 4 in a Level 5 situation, you will get hurt. Perhaps badly. If you try to use Level 5 in a Level 4 situation, on the other hand, you will likely wind up in jail. Or be sued. Or both. We are not just talking legalities here; you have to be able to live with yourself afterward too.
Martial artists learn dangerous, even deadly techniques. Classical systems were developed long before the advent of modern medicine. In those days, any injury sustained from a fight could be catastrophic. A busted jaw, or even a few lost teeth, might mean you’d starve to death. In the days before social services, a broken arm or leg boded poorly for your long-term chances of survival when you could no longer work for your living. Internal bleeding, a ruptured organ, or a severe concussion; forget about it—you almost certainly would not have survived.
Knowing that the shorter the fight, the lower the chance of debilitating injury, the ancient masters built systems designed to stop adversaries as quickly and ruthlessly as possible. The modern rule-of-law concept and associated legal repercussions had not been invented yet. This put ‘em down, take ‘em out mentality worked great at the time. If it didn’t work, the styles would not still be around today. Those tactics and techniques worked so well that contemporary systems often have foundations built upon traditional methods.
The challenge is that the very same applications that may have kept you safe in the feudal times have limited utility today. It is not that they don’t work, but rather that they work so well that they can only be used in certain circumstances. The brutal beat-down you deliver on the other guy might well save your life, but in the wrong circumstances, it will also land you in jail. For a really long time. Or it might make your opponent and his lawyers wealthy at your expense. Conversely, if you take the beat-down yourself, you could be seriously injured, permanently disabled, or killed.
That is why scaling force is so important. It is holistic and style-agnostic. Most importantly, it works in any situation to ensure that you will choose the right level of force when you need to use what you have learned in the dojo to defend yourself on the street.
For years, police agencies have used different versions of a force continuum to teach rookies how to judiciously choose an appropriate level of force, as well as to educate citizens and juries in what constitutes an appropriate force decision. Recently, there has been a movement away from teaching in this manner. The most commonly quoted reason is that officers and juries will see the continuum as a game of “connect the dots” where each level must be tried before escalating to the next. It has never been taught this way and we know of no case where an officer or a jury explained a bad decision in this manner.
The more compelling reason for many agencies abandoning an official force continuum is that the courts do not use it to adjudicate cases. Since Graham v. Connor 490 U.S. 386 (1989), it has been recognized that “the calculus of reasonableness must embody allowance for the fact that police officers are often forced to make split-second judgments—in circumstances that are tense, uncertain, and rapidly evolving—about the amount of force that is necessary in a particular situation.” To many, it appears that this is exactly what codifying a force continuum is attempting to do.
Remember this: You do not work under a departmental use of force policy. You may, however, need to act in self-defense and you must act within the law. The levels of force described in this book are not prescriptive. We will not tell you, “If you are facing X, then response level Y is appropriate.” That is, and will always be, the call of the person on the ground.
In Graham v. Connor, the Supreme Court stated: “The reasonableness of a particular use of force must be judged from the perspective of a reasonable officer on the scene, rather than with the 20/20 vision of hindsight. Not every push or shove, even if it may later seem unnecessary in the peace of a judge’s chambers, violates the Fourth Amendment.” This logic can be applied to civilian cases and criminal prosecutions as well.
There are six levels of force described in this book. While you may never need to use all of them, what we will say to you, and what we expressly believe, is that if your training does not cover the full range of skills presented here, there are situations in which you will have no appropriate options. More often than not, that will end badly.
