Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
John Hayden wasn’t cocky about landing the job of chief of the St. Louis Metropolitan Police Department, but he did think that if he made it into the final six, he’d be in striking distance: “I knew it would be an uphill battle for an out-of-town person, because they didn’t know the neighborhoods.” He describes the biggest danger for a police officer as going numb, but he’s a lot warmer and more hopeful than you’d expect from somebody who’s wrangled vice, narcotics, homicides, and internal affairs. And you get the sense that he doesn’t give up.
How have you managed not to get cynical? Because I’ve always believed I can make a difference. You can’t necessarily stop drug sales, but you can impact the free flow of it. We take our victories small.
Name one victory that’s stuck with you. In the undercover drug unit, I walked up to a group of young men and said, “Hey, I’m interested in purchasing drugs.” I must have blown my cover, because I walked away and heard them running after me. I pulled out my badge and turned around and started running toward them, and they ran away from me. A little old man on the porch, you know what he did? [Slowly, loudly, he claps his hands.]
You’ve been entrusted with huge responsibility. Yet you have to show up at scenes of horrific violence and remember you’re not responsible—at a certain point, it’s out of your control. How do you move in and out of that sense of responsibility? I think by being honest with people. For example, [in early January], we had two separate homicide scenes. I thought somebody might say, ‘Hey, we may not be getting off to the best of starts.’ But the truth about what both of these scenes had in common were drugs and shell casings of various calibers, indicating that there was more than one person shooting. And one scene had more than one type of drugs—and a pistol that had been fired—and the other scene had individually wrapped pieces of the same drug, which people don’t usually do for their own use. So although I’m responsible for homicides that occur in the city—I take responsibility for that—I want people to know what some of the risk factors are.
How much city crime is drug-related? Probably 60 to 70 percent has some tentacle of connection to drugs.
How much of the drug dealing is organized, maybe coming in from elsewhere? Some of that is hard to track. We’re just now reinstituting a narcotics unit.
Why did we ever stop having a narcotics unit? I guess some people believe that you focus on the violence, and you don’t necessarily have to focus on drug seizures as well. But I think intelligence from our drug investigations will give a better answer to that question you just asked.
You were a math major at Wash. U. Make us a pie chart: How much of the violence in the city is gun violence? Sixty-five percent were gun assaults. We had 4,017 aggravated assaults, and 2,614 of them were with guns. Everybody knows we had 205 homicides in 2017. What people don’t know is, we had 2,614 people trying to kill people. That’s even scarier.
A lot of older people feel really vulnerable in their own neighborhoods. What happened? Some of these stable neighborhoods, stable blocks, when folks started leaving the city, people who were not as committed to neighborhood stabilization started moving in. The people who had lived there for years stayed back, and they end up having neighbors who aren’t nearly as responsible as people they grew up with. You hear people talking about being a prisoner in their own home. The neighborhood changed around them, and now they’re the only responsible people on the block.
The high-crime boundaries you’ve drawn for us, in which so much violent crime is concentrated—why haven’t resources been dedicated there before now? Well, I’ll tell you what: I brought it up. When we went to six districts, we made those boundaries based on calls for service. It wasn’t taken into consideration the type of calls for service. At our first evaluation, I wrote, hey, this is kind of lopsided: All the heavy lifting is going on in two districts.
Why is there such a link between poverty and violence? In more stable neighborhoods, the goal is to get a good education and get a good job. But if my home structure’s not stable, I’m not going to listen to the teacher, I’m just going to do what I want, and naturally, I’m going to get kicked out of school. So now I’m not in school. I’m still hungry. I’m idle, and I still want things. And some of my adult relatives aren’t providing the proper role model that I need. So I’m a kid raising myself, and I’m making decisions that are dangerous.
I’ve heard young offenders talk so casually about shooting somebody, like it’s this calm calculus. Yeah, but it’s so not forward-thinking! You wanted to rob somebody. They started to run away, and you shot them, because they were disobedient. And now, you’re wanted for assault. When you didn’t even get any of the money! If you were thinking about what you were doing, you wouldn’t have shot. But you did it because they disobeyed you, they disrespected you. I’ll give you another example: A lot of these kids who carjack, they ride around in an area that’s not far from where the car was taken. If there was some desperate need for a car, why would you go three or four blocks away and then be surprised that the police were all over you? It’s almost like they didn’t think about that. Or, worse, it didn’t matter. Used to be, you could steal a car by putting a screwdriver in the ignition, and riding around in a stolen car was a misdemeanor. Now, they have to steal somebody’s keys. That’s a much different penalty. It’s like they got a car and it’s no big deal, they know it’s hot, their behavior is that of joyriding—but they’ve committed a felony, and they don’t even realize the difference.
What do you want to be able to say you did as chief? Reducing violent crime and changing the culture of the agency. Right now, some communities really feel on edge when police come around. It saddens me. I remember when I was a boy and my father said, “Hey, Johnny, you’re driving now. You might get stopped by the police.” I’d instantly say, “I know my rights.” He said, “I’m not talking about your rights. I’m talking about not getting hurt.” But he was not talking about me getting killed. I’ve talked to a lot of mothers that express sincere concern about their kids making it home at night. I’d like to restore public trust.
I’ve heard officers talk about an escalation in weaponry and recklessness—is that part of the problem? It’s a part of it. We are encountering some pretty emboldened people. But I think we still have a responsibility to make sure that when we use deadly force, it’s the last resort.
If you’re chasing someone who’s armed, do you have to shoot to kill because they’re a danger to the public? Our training has always talked about the center mass. We’re shooting to stop the threat, and because the torso is the largest part of the body, it’s the likeliest to [be] hit. But we’re not “shooting to kill.”
Are tasers useful in these incidents? In the continuum of force, you would never use a taser with someone who had a pistol. First of all, two prongs of the taser have to be connected. That’s a challenge, and that’s not always a guarantee. If you use a taser against someone with a weapon, that’s a tactical disadvantage, and that’s not wise.
The Bible has been a compass for you. What scriptural passage do you think you’ll be calling on in the next few years? Any passage that refers to my trust in God. Because so much of what I am expected to accomplish, I can only do my best to put it in place, but I don’t have control of the outcomes.
How can you get at racism within the department? First of all, by relationships. When I taught in the academy for five years, probably 500 officers came through there, and many are currently lieutenants and sergeants, and I already have a mentor-mentee relationship with them. Now, let’s have some serious conversations with people you respect—on both sides: I honor them and they honor me. When we talk about sensitive subjects, I think they are more likely to listen to somebody they don’t believe has some agenda. You say, hey, let’s think through how we process these things. I believe that some training—implicit bias training is always popular, but I am interested in some training that goes a little deeper than that, talks about some of the origins of the more controversial opinions that people have.
For example? The whole notion of white privilege, or even white supremacy. I’ve always wondered, what is the basis for white supremacy? I was at a seminar, and I learned that in the 1600s, the 1700s, there were papal bulls telling folk, “You are superior, and you have the right to go conquer and prosper,” and it kind of didn’t matter who was on the other side of that. I never knew that it wasn’t just ignorance. If I thought that God was telling me to take over a land… I think that’s how we change. You have to have a relationship with people, it has to be somebody you trust, and it can’t be attacking folk, but it brings some hard facts to a scenario, and people get a chance to say, wow, I didn’t know that. I think my personality and my background with so many of our sergeants, lieutenants, and captains, who have a sphere of influence of their own in this agency—I think that relationship can help heal some racial wounds in this department.
You’ve worked closely with a lot of chiefs. What have you learned? That you have to be honest with people. You have to lead by example, because if you want people to follow you, they have to believe that you’ve considered how it impacts them. If you really want officers to respect someone or something, you have to get buy-in by allowing their input. You should listen to your commanders [he chuckles, having so recently been one], because they may have greater insight than the chief does, if they are out in the field dealing with a particular thing. And that goes for the officers, too. Sometimes we overlook the input from the boots on the ground. They have to feel that they have access, that they’re not going to be attacked for having a different idea, and that you welcome and value their opinion.
Are you going to be able to pull off one of your famous mobile desks, as chief? Absolutely. I’m going to have a city-wide mobile office. It’s for the purpose of encouraging my commanders to get involved in community policing. I want to put a balm on that tension. Let’s get to know some people. Let’s spend some time talking to some folks, in nonenforcement activities, not just when somebody’s shot. Let’s have some hot dogs. Let’s go to a park. People want that. People deserve that. We are going to ask them to help us solve crimes. Are you more likely to help if you have a distanced relationship or if you’re saying, “Hey, that’s John, he walks my beat all the time”?
Do people have good reason to be scared to give information? I think the fear of retaliation is legitimate. I do believe that. I think they’re afraid that the information will not be used confidentially. Again, it’s a public trust issue. You have to have longstanding proof that when anonymous information is shared with us, it remains anonymous, and there’s every reason in the world to trust us. Right now, both locally and nationally, law enforcement has not handled—or at least has not been perceived to handle—that responsibility as well as it could.
Whatever happened to the broken window theory of policing? I think the broken window theory still holds. That recent homicide? I asked a lady on the 5900 block of Kennerly, “Is that block where they are? Is that a hot block, a lot of activity on that block?” And she said, “No, John. Generally not. Hodiamont is.” But you know what else I noticed? From Hodiamont midway east, it was all vacant. So there was some level of comfortability. The broken window theory says if it’s obvious there’s not a lot of community concern about a particular place, it tends to be a hotbed for mischief. Half the block on both sides was empty.
Is it salary or safety concerns that keep people from joining the SLMPD? Maybe a combination of both. And right now, law enforcement may not be the most desired profession. That’s not just in St. Louis, it’s across the country. We have to restore public trust. But it’s always been an honorable profession. We need to do some stronger recruiting, even out of state. Talk about career paths: What do I need to do to become a homicide detective? To become a forensic specialist? We had a cadet program at the University of Missouri-St. Louis that I’d love to see if we can revive. The level of technology we use requires modern-day learning: You have to be computer literate, and you have to read and write well. I’m a perfect example. Math was my second choice; I went to Washington U. premed like everybody else. So I’m going to try to recruit people like myself. Hardworking kids that want a profession they can see themselves advancing in. I’m hoping my current popularity might help with recruiting—better do it while I can! People are being very kind right now.
Do you ever miss the quirky moments of policing, being out on the streets? As long as you’re interacting with people, the quirkiness at the scenes is still there. Whether you’re a patrolman or you’re a commander, if you go to the scenes, the conversations are still very intriguing. It might make a difference to a police officer to have a white shirt on, but it certainly doesn’t make a difference to the people standing around. They will tell you all kinds of things. They’ll tell you about folks in the neighborhood that are acting up and about folks who are behaving themselves. You can learn a lot by listening. As long as you stay engaged, you won’t miss it.
I’ve heard officers nostalgic for a civility they feel has been lost. People do still appreciate that we need to do our jobs. What they complain about is how we do them. People are disappointed, in some instances, and, I would argue, rightfully so.
Where has it gone wrong? Maybe our laser focus on stats has taken away from the community engagement side. People say officers won’t even get out of the car. They’re only focused on crime, not on knowing who the good people are. At the management level, if all we are talking about is results… Officers will do what you ask them to do. If I say, “I want you to get out of the car,” they’ll do it. So we need to look in the mirror.
How do you avoid officer burnout? Sometimes a lot of these emotional things going on within us, we would tend to hide them. That’s why it’s important to have a good EAP program—and we do. But one thing we can look at is to have more times in the year when you have to actually go and talk about what’s going on, how you’re coping. If I’m required to go, and I’m honest… I think we can intercept some emotional things that may erupt otherwise. Our officers see a lot of traumatic events, and that’s got to take its toll. You need a coping mechanism.
What’s yours? I tend to focus on the families, on trying to get people some closure. Instead of staring at the scene, I’m more interested in trying to break the bad news. I talk to brothers and sisters and moms and dads. How do we get to the next place? I promise them a lot about how I’ll look into it and why I need the scene to be well preserved if they really want me to solve this. It’s difficult in a different way. It takes a lot more empathy, and it’s not as graphic. To see a lot of graphic, violent scenes, I think that can take a greater toll, day after day. ’Cause what you don’t want people to do is go numb.
What do you want to make sure not to do? I want to make sure I don’t let people down.
What went through your head when you learned you were our new chief? The Lord has put you here, but to whom much is given, much is required. It’s not some cakewalk.
You do have your work cut out for you. Somebody asked me if, at the end of this year, the things I’d put in place hadn’t had a noticeable impact, what I’d say to that. I said, “I can promise that I’m going to be so engaged that people will say, ‘Hey, he might not accomplish everything we want, but he’s certainly the guy we’re gonna let keep trying.’”
