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By Chief Sam Bierds
No officer ever really wants to hear about the burdens of being the chief, and honestly, I don’t blame them.
It is the officer, not the chief, who responds to calls for service. It is the officer, not the chief, who misses birthdays, holidays and other family events. And it is the officer, not the chief, who faces danger every time they go in service. The chief’s position exists because of the officers — a fact many of us fail to remember. Our position is not one of privilege and leisure, but rather of duty and concern.
The best chiefs bear these burdens in silence, because no one wants to hear a humblebrag about how hard we have it in our cushy offices. And yet, there are things I wish I knew back when I was on the line. What does the chief actually do? Why does the chief seem grouchy so often? Why won’t he approve the widget that officers have been asking for?
There are rarely one-size-fits-all answers to these questions, because policing, like life, is complex. But I believe that all good chiefs — those who are not self-serving, those who truly care about the well-being of their people — share these five consistent truths.
1. We miss being the police
From the time I pinned on the badge, I knew I wanted to rise through the ranks and eventually lead an agency. Now that I am here, I realize that I miss actual police work. I no longer experience the adrenaline rush of a code run, the thrill of catching the bad guy or the camaraderie that comes from shared, often traumatic, experiences. Police work has been replaced by the joys of budgets, policies and meetings. (So. Many. Meetings.)
Many of my officers have expressed their desire to see me out on the street more, and I agree with them. But the reality is that I rarely get a chance to step away from my duties, and when I am done for the day, I am spent. Going on the street while mentally and emotionally drained is dangerous, and the last thing I want is for someone to get hurt because I am not anywhere close to being at the top of my game.
That said, I know I need to intentionally carve out time to get on the street with my people, for their benefit as well as mine.
2. We worry about you
There isn’t a night that I don’t think about my officers and dispatchers. Not because I doubt them — I trust their ability and integrity completely — but because I question whether I’ve done enough for them.
I worry that something bad will happen and I won’t be there with them. I worry about the personal stresses in their lives. I worry about their job satisfaction. These concerns aren’t born of anxiety; they stem from my belief that my job is to do everything I can for my people, providing them with the best possible resources to do their jobs and go home safe at the end of their shifts. As long as I am in command, I will worry about you, because I care about you.
3. We hate saying no
When I took this job, I told the command staff that our mindset would be to “find a reason to say yes.” The vast majority of growth in any department is driven by line officers and dispatchers. You are the ones doing the work, and you know what you need to do your jobs more effectively. The longer I am away from the street, the less direct knowledge I have of what you need. I need your input to make decisions.
Granted, some ideas are simply not realistic (our agency isn’t large enough to justify a helicopter), but many of them are solid. I wish I could rubber-stamp every great idea I receive from the line, but that is not feasible. To ensure long-term success and growth, I have to prioritize the department’s needs, which sometimes means saying no.
Even when the answer is no, I will always look for ways to implement good ideas. We may never be able to afford a helicopter, but if someone donates one…
4. It takes courage to order others into danger
As a chief, there is added pressure when ordering someone into danger. I would much rather go into danger myself than send someone else. That’s a hard truth. One need only look at leadership failures in Uvalde to see that decisiveness requires courage.
Ultimately, we are responsible for what occurs in dangerous situations. We share liability with you. More importantly, we carry the weight of the decision if you get hurt. Courage in command is more burdensome than I ever realized, yet I bear that burden because you deserve a leader willing to make tough decisions when they matter most.
5. We are lonely
When I pinned the eagles on my collar, the social shift was immediate and palpable. Nothing had changed except my rank and title, but suddenly everything I said or did carried more weight. It took time to find a balance, and honestly, I’m still working on it.
If I’m honest, I was never especially social with my coworkers outside of work, but I am less so now. It’s not that I feel above anyone; in fact, it’s the opposite. Recognizing that everything I do carries weight has made me more aware that being too social with a small group can create the perception of an “inner circle.”
I view that as harmful to a department’s culture and operations. No one is more or less valuable than anyone else. I work hard to ensure no one feels they have an advantage or disadvantage because of a relationship with me. I’m not being aloof; I’m trying to ensure no “inner circles” or “lunch bunches” exist, because I want to lead a healthy and equitable department.
Closing the gap
These truths aren’t complaints; they are simply parts of the job that are rarely visible. I share them not to create distance between the chief’s office and the line, but to close the gap. At the end of the day, there is no “us” and “them” — only the department and the people who make it work.
You are the reason this position exists, and you are the reason the weight of these truths is worth carrying. As long as I have the privilege of serving in this role, I will carry it in a way that honors the work you do every day.
About the author
Sam Bierds is the chief of police of the Murray, Kentucky, Police Department. He has 22 years of law enforcement experience, holds a master’s degree in justice administration and is a graduate of the Northwestern University Center for Public Safety School of Police Staff and Command.
THE LEADERSHIP BEAT
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