International Journal of Emergency Mental Health, Vol. 8, No. 4, pp. 239-254 © 2006 Chevron Publishing ISSN 1522-4821
Officer-Involved Shooting: Reaction Patterns, Response Protocols,
and Psychological Intervention Strategies
Laurence Miller
Independent Practice, Boca Raton, Florida
Abstract: Psychologists who work with law enforcement agencies may be called upon to respond to an
officer-involved shooting (OIS). These need not be the most traumatic critical incidents in policing, but
when they are, the reasons usually involve a mix of incident characteristics, officer response styles, and
departmental handling. This article describes some of the psychological reactions experienced by officers
during and following an OIS and provides a model of administrative, legal, mental health, and peer
support services for officers in need. Finally, the article discusses several key roles that the police
psychologist can play in the process of managing an OIS. [International Journal of Emergency Mental
Health, 2006, 8(4), pp. 239-254].
Key words: officer-involved shooting, post-shooting stress, critical incident stress, crisis intervention,
police psychology
The gun. Among all public safety and emergency ser-
vice workers, the unique and ultimate symbol of the law
enforcement officer is the gun. No other nonmilitary service
group is mandated to carry a lethal firearm as part of their
daily equipment, nor charged with the responsibility of us-
ing their own discretion and judgment in making split-sec-
ond decisions to use deadly force in the line of duty.
Although watching any typical TV cop show might con-
vince the viewer that most officers regularly fire off multiple
rounds without a second thought, in reality the firing of
one’s weapon in the line of duty is a profound event that
almost always leaves a psychological trace and, in some
cases, may be traumatic enough to end a career in law en-
forcement.
Correspondene concerning this article should be sent to Laurence
Miller, PhD, Plaza Four, Suite 101, 399 W. Camino Gardens Blvd.,
Boca Raton, Florida 33432(561) 392-8881. Email to:
Cop And Guns: Facts And Stats
Available data indicate that about 600 criminals are killed
each year by police officers in the United States. Some of
these killings are in self-defense, some are accidental, and
others are to prevent harm to others. By comparison, last
year, 152 officers were killed in the line of duty (Mitchell &
Levenson, 2006). In most cases, taking a life occurs in the
context of trying to save a life. The sources of stress at-
tached to an officer-involved shooting (OIS) are multiple,
and include the officer’s own psychological reaction to tak-
ing a life, the responses of law enforcement peers and the
officer’s family, rigorous examination by departmental inves-
tigators and administrators, possible disciplinary action or
change of assignment, possible criminal and civil court ac-
tion, and unwanted attention - sometimes outright harass-
ment - by the media (Baruth, 1986; Bohrer, 2005; Cloherty,
2004; Henry, 2004; Miller, 1995, 1999b, 2000, 2003b, 2005a,
2006, in press-a, in press-c; Perrou & Farrell, 2004; Regehr &
Bober, 2005; Russell & Beigel, 1990).
IJEMH • Vol. 8, No. 4 • 2006 239
In most jurisdictions, the legal test for justification of
legitimate use of lethal force by police officers requires that
any reasonable person with the training and experience of
the involved officer would have perceived a threat to life in
the actions taken by the suspect (Blau, 1986, 1994; Blum,
2000). Line-of-duty deadly force actions are most likely to
occur in the following situations, in descending order of prob-
ability: (1) domestic or other disturbance calls; (2) robbery in
progress; (3) burglary in progress; (4) traffic offense; (5) per-
sonal dispute and/or accident; and (5) stake-out and drug
busts (Blau, 1994; Russell & Biegel, 1990).
Of American police officers who kill a suspect in the line
of duty, 70% leave law enforcement within five years (Horn,
1991). According to McMains (1986a; 1991), by the early
1980s, an estimated 95% of police officers involved in a line-
of-duty shooting had left police work within five years. By
the mid-1980s, large departments had cut that rate to 3%,
while smaller departments were still losing about two-thirds
of officers involved in a shooting. More recent surveys have
showed that less than 15% of officers sampled showed sig-
nificant post-shooting distress and even fewer left law en-
forcement as a direct result of the incident (Honig & Roland,
1998; Honig & Sultan, 2004), and some authorities believe
the psychological disability rate from OISs, and from critical
incidents in general, has been overestimated (Curran, 2003).
One important difference may relate to the level of adminis-
trative and mental health support provided to officers by the
larger departments (either because of broader philosophies
or broader budgets), giving their officers the clear message
that helping them resolve their psychological trauma and
maintain their mental health is a departmental priority. Ac-
cordingly, this has left a greater role for police psychologists
to make a fundamental contribution to officer health and
safety.
Perceptual, Cognitive, And Behavioral
Disturbances
Most officers who have been involved in a deadly force
shooting episode have described one or more alterations in
perception, thinking, and behavior that occurred during the
event (Artwohl, 2002; Honig & Roland, 1998; Honig & Sul-
tan, 2004; Solomon & Horn, 1986; Wittrup, 1986). Most of
these can be interpreted as natural adaptive defensive reac-
tions of an organism under extreme emergency stress.
Most common are distortions in time perception. In the
majority of these cases, officers recall the shooting event as
occurring in slow motion, although a smaller percentage re-
port experiencing the event as speeded up.
Sensory distortions are common and most commonly
involve tunnel vision, in which the officer is sharply focused
on one particular aspect of the visual field, typically, the
suspect’s gun or weapon, while blocking out everything in
the periphery. Similarly, tunnel hearing may occur, in which
the officer’s auditory attention is focused exclusively on a
particular set of sounds, most commonly the suspect’s voice,
while background sounds are excluded. Sounds may also
seem muffled or, in a smaller number of cases, louder than
normal. Officers have reported not hearing their own or other
officers’ gunshots. In a few cases, officers have reported
hearing “the bad guy’s blood drip” (James Sewell, personal
communication). Overall perceptual clarity may increase or
diminish.
Some form of perceptual and/or behavioral dissocia-
tion may occur during the critical event. In extreme cases,
officers describe feeling as though they were standing out-
side or hovering above the scene, observing it “like it was
happening to someone else.” In milder cases, the officer may
report that he or she “just went on automatic,” performing
whatever actions were necessary with a sense of robotic
detachment. Some officers report intrusive distracting
thoughts during the scene, often involving loved ones or
other personal matters, but it is not known if these substan-
tially affected the officers’ actions during the event.
A sense of helplessness may occur during the shooting
episode, but this may be underreported due to the potential
stigma attached (Honig & Sultan, 2004). A very small propor-
tion of officers report that they “froze” at some point during
the event: either this is an uncommon response or officers
are understandably reluctant to report it. In a series of inter-
views, Artwohl (2002) found that most of these instances of
“freezing” really represented the normal action-reaction gap
in which officers make the decision to shoot only after the
suspect has engaged in clearly threatening behavior. In most
cases, this brief evaluation interval is a positive precaution,
to prevent the premature shooting of a harmless citizen. But
in situations where the ostensibly prudent action led to a
tragic outcome, this cautious hesitation may well be viewed
retrospectively as a fault: “If I hadn’t waited to see him draw,
maybe my partner would still be alive.”
240 Miller • Officer Involved Shooting
Disturbances in memory are commonly reported in shoot-
ing cases. About half of these involve impaired recall for at
least some of the events during the shooting scene; the other
half involve impaired recall for at least part of the officer’s
own actions. This, in turn, may be associated with the “go-
ing-on-automatic” response. More rarely, some aspects of
the scene may be recalled with unusually clarity – a flash-
bulb memory. More than a third of cases involve not so
much a loss of recall as a distortion of memory, to the extent
that the officer’s account of what happened differs markedly
from the report of other observers at the scene. In general, it
is common for officers not to remember the number of rounds
they fired, especially from a semiautomatic handgun.
A few cases I’ve interviewed could be described as “tun-
nel memory,” that is, some part of the scene is recalled espe-
cially vividly, while others are fuzzy or distorted. As with
research on eyewitness memory in general (Loftus, Greene,
& Doyle, 1989), one’s subjective vividness of recall is often
uncorrelated with the accuracy of the material recalled. An
administrative implication is that discrepant accounts among
eyewitnesses to a shooting scene should not be automati-
cally interpreted as one or more persons lying or consciously
distorting his or her report (Artwohl, 2002), but may well
represent honest differences of perception and recall.
A general neuropsychological explanation for these con-
strictions of sensation, perception, and memory is that the
brain naturally tries to tone down the hyperarousal that oc-
curs during a critical shooting incident, so that the individual
can function through the experience using his or her “mental
autopilot” responses. In a smaller number of cases, the of-
ficer experiences heightened perceptual awareness of those
features of the scene that are essential for his survival. Simi-
larly, in emergencies the processing of accurate memories for
later use seems to take a neuropsychological back seat to the
mechanisms necessary for getting the subject through the
situation alive, right here and now (Miller, 1990). The implica-
tions for training are that a greater depth, range, and flexibil-
ity of attention and arousal control will allow officers to use
such automatic responding adaptively in a wider range of
extreme situations (Miller, 2006).
Reactions of Fellow Officers
The etiology of post-shooting reactions often lies in the
emotional disconnect between an officer’s expectations of a
heroic, armed confrontation and the reality of most shooting
scenarios, which typically involve petty criminals, mentally
disordered suspects, domestic hostage-barricade situations,
or accidents (Geller, 1982; Miller, 2005b, in press-b; Kennedy,
Homant & Hupp, 1998; Mohandie & Meloy, 2000; Perrou &
Farrell, 2004; Russell & Biegel, 1990).
Post-Shooting Reaction Typologies
Although the reaction to an OIS will necessarily be in-
fluenced by the individual personality and experience of the
officer (Miller, 2003a; Twersky-Glasner, 2005), certain com-
mon factors seem to underlie different types of reaction.
Several analyses (Anderson, Swenson, & Clay, 1995;
Blau, 1994; Blum, 2000; Nielsen, 1991) have suggested a tri-
partite typology of post-shooting reactions, which parallels
the three types of reaction noted to occur in the wake of
traumatically stressful events in general (Bowman, 1997).
These, of course, should be thought of as a continuum rather
than discrete categories. In addition to individual officer
characteristics, the severity of a post-shooting reaction will
be determined by a host of situational factors, such as the
nature of the shooting itself, the post-incident investigation,
reactions of supervisors, peers, and family, and so on. Each
of these reaction types also has its own therapeutic implica-
tions for helping officers in distress.
The first type of reaction involves a transitory period of
post-incident psychological distress, which the officer is able
to resolve within a few weeks, largely by self-coping efforts,
such as talking with colleagues and family, praying and re-
flecting, and reexamining and renewing life priorities and
goals. The psychological distress does not appear to sub-
stantially affect the officers daily functioning. Peer counsel-
ing, a critical incident stress debriefing (Miller, 1999a; Mitchell
& Everly, 1996), and perhaps one or two visits with a mental
health professional, clergyperson, or peer support person is
usually the extent of any intervention required.
The second type of reaction is a somewhat more in-
tense, intermediate response, with posttraumatic symptoms
persisting for several weeks or months. The officers daily
functioning may be impaired, often with a “good days/bad
days” pattern. In addition to peer support and group
debriefings, short-term crisis counseling with a psychologist
over several weeks may be indicated to help the officer work
through the traumatic elements of the shooting (Blau, 1994;
Miller, 1998, 2000; Wester & Lyubelsky, 2005), as well as to
provide support through any contentious administrative pro-
IJEMH • Vol. 8, No. 4 • 2006 241
cesses that may follow the incident (Bohrer, 2005; Cloherty,
2004; Miller, in press-a).
The third type of reaction is characterized by severe psy-
chological disability, what officers often describe as a “men-
tal breakdown.” Here, the shooting incident has so
traumatized the officer that he is unable to function. In most
cases this kind of severe reaction occurs in the context of
some degree of vulnerability in the premorbid personality of
the officer, often exacerbated by a particularly adversarial
investigation and perceived lack of support from colleagues,
the department, family, and/or the community (Miller, 2003a,
in press-a). Treatment will necessarily involve more long-
term psychotherapy, perhaps with medication. Although some
of these officers will ultimately leave police work, many of
these careers may be salvaged by timely and appropriate
psychological intervention.
Post-Shooting Reaction Phases
Some authorities (Nielsen, 1991; Williams, 1999) have
divided the post-shooting reaction into several basic phases
or stages, starting with an immediate reaction or impact
phase. For officers who have just shot a suspect during a
dangerous confrontation, there may be an initial reaction of
relief and even exhilaration at having survived the encounter.
Later, feelings of guilt or self-recrimination may surface,
especially where the decision to shoot was less than clear-
cut or where the suspect’s actions essentially forced the hand
of the officer into using deadly force, such as in botched
robberies, domestic disputes, or suicide-by-cop (Kennedy et
al, 1998; Lindsay & Dickson, 2004; Mohandie & Meloy, 2000;
Perrou & Farrell, 2004; Pinizzotto, Davis, & Miller, 2005). Or
the officer may simply be confronting the fact that, however
justified his response, he has nevertheless taken a human
life. During this recoil or remorse phase, the officer may
seem detached and preoccupied, spacily going through the
motions of his job duties, and operating on behavioral auto-
pilot. He may be sensitive and prickly to even well-meaning
probing and congratulations by his peers (“How close was
the shooter?” or “Way to go, Bobby – you got the guy”),
and especially to accusatory-like interrogation and second-
guessing from official investigators or the press: “Officer
Jackson, did you really believe you were in fear for your life
from a confused teenager?”
As the officer begins to come to terms with the shooting
episode, a resolution or acceptance phase may ensue, wherein
he or she assimilates the fact that the use-of-force-action
was necessary and justified in this particular instance of the
battle for survival that often characterizes law enforcement
deadly encounters. This resolution process may be compli-
cated by continuing departmental investigations or by im-
pending or ongoing civil litigation. In addition, even under
the best of circumstances, resolution may be partial rather
than total, and psychological remnants of the experience may
continue to haunt the officer periodically, especially during
future times of crisis. But overall, he is eventually able to
return to work with a reasonable sense of confidence.
In the worst case, sufficient resolution may never occur,
and the officer enters into a prolonged posttraumatic phase,
which may effectively end his or her law enforcement career.
In less severe cases, a period of temporary stress disability
allows the officer to seek treatment, to eventually regain his
or her emotional and professional bearings, and ultimately to
return to the job. Still other officers return to work right away,
but continue to perform marginally until their actions are
brought to the attention of superiors (Miller, 2004).
In my experience, many officers who have been trauma-
tized by their own deadly use of force can be effectively
returned to work with the proper psychological intervention
and departmental support (Miller, 2006). Indeed, this type of
support – or stronger forms of encouragement – from the
upper brass is typically what prompts the referral for mental
health counseling in the first place.
Types of Post-Shooting Symptoms and Reactions
Again, the officer’s individual personality and experi-
ence will influence the type of post-shooting reaction he or
she experiences, but certain commonalities emerge from dif-
ferent reports (Anderson et al, 1995; Blum, 2000; Cohen, 1980;
Geller, 1982; Honig & Sultan, 2004; Russell & Beigel, 1990;
Williams, 1999). Some of these will represent general post-
traumatic reactions familiar to psychological trauma workers
(Gilliland & James, 1993; Greenstone & Leviton, 2001; Miller,
1998; Regehr & Bober, 2005), while others will have a specific
law enforcement line-of-duty shooting focus.
Physical symptoms may include headaches, stomach
upset, nausea, weakness and fatigue, muscle tension and
twitches, and changes in appetite and sexual functioning.
Sleep is typically impaired, with frequent awakenings and
often nightmares. Typical posttraumatic reactions of intru-
sive imagery and flashbacks may occur, along with premoni-
242 Miller • Officer Involved Shooting
tions, distorted memories, and feelings of déjà vu. Some
degree of anxiety and depression is common, often accompa-
nied by panic attacks. There may be unnatural and disorient-
ing feelings of helplessness, fearfulness, and vulnerability,
along with self-second-guessing and guilt feelings. Sub-
stance abuse may be a risk.
There may be a pervasive irritability and low frustration
tolerance, along with anger and resentment toward the sus-
pect, the department, unsupportive peers and family, or civil-
ians in general. Part of this may be a reaction to the conscious
or unconscious sense of vulnerability that the officer experi-
ences after a shooting incident. Sometimes this is projected
outward as a smoldering irritability that makes the officer’s
every interaction a grating source of stress and conflict. All
this, combined with an increased hypervigilance and hyper-
sensitivity to threats of all kinds, may result in overaggres-
sive policing, leading to abuse-of-force complaints (Miller,
2004, 2006).
Ultimately, this may spiral into a vicious cycle of angry
and fearful isolation and withdrawal by the officer, spurring
further alienation from potential sources of help and support.
At the same time, some officers become overly protective of
their families, generating an alternating control-alienation
syndrome (McMains, 1986b, 1991), which is disturbing and
disorienting to the family. All this, combined with emotional
lability (“I just get mad or cry at the drop of a hat”) and
cognitive symptoms of impaired concentration and memory,
may lead the officer to fear that he or she is going crazy.
Incident-Specific Factors Influencing the Post-
Shooting Reaction
Apart from the universal reactions and individual per-
sonality and history of the officer, certain features of the line-
of-duty shooting incident itself can affect the severity,
persistence, and impact of post-shooting symptoms and re-
actions (Allen, 2004; Anderson et al, 1995; Blau, 1986; Bohrer,
2005; Honig & Sultan, 2004; McMains, 1986b).
One obvious factor is the degree of threat to the officer’s
life. This can operate in two ways. First, the officer who feels
that he or she was literally about to die may be traumatized by
the extreme fear involved, but may feel quite justified and
relatively guilt-free in using deadly force on a clearly murder-
ous suspect. But where the danger was more equivocal,
there will be less of the fear factor and more second-guessing
about what degree of force was actually necessary. Police
officers pride themselves in their ability to manage a tense
situation and perform under pressure, so they may feel over-
whelmed by doubt and self-recrimination where the situation
abruptly got out of control and turned deadly.
Related factors include the amount of preparation and
warning that existed prior to the shooting and the length of
time the dangerous incident persisted, which also may have
varying effects. On the one hand, officers caught off guard
are unlikely to have even a brief interval to think through
their decision to shoot and may later perceive themselves, or
be perceived by others, as having reacted out of fear, no
matter how justified the shooting is later judged to be. On
the other hand, where the shooting follows a prolonged stand-
off, with a lot of back-and-forth negotiating and maneuver-
ing, as in hostage-barricade or suicide-by-cop scenarios, the
extended period of time the officer spent agonizing over the
decision to use deadly force may later take a deleterious psy-
chological toll.
All of the above factors relate to two important dimen-
sions: the amount of control the officer feels he or she had
over the situation and degree of conflict that exists over the
necessity to take a human life. Generally, the less control and
the more conflict the officer has experienced during the event,
the more severe will be the psychological reaction (Miller,
1998, 2006).
The officer’s reaction to the shooting may also be re-
lated to the characteristics of the suspect. At one extreme is
the armed bank robber who, having been duly warned and
ordered to surrender, brazenly draws down on the officer or
puts a gun to a hostage. In such a case, there is likely to be
universal agreement that the officer had no choice – indeed,
was duty-bound – to fire on the perpetrator in order to save
innocent lives. At the other extreme is the obnoxiously in-
ebriated high school punk who is pulled over for a traffic
violation, exchanges a few sharp words with the officer, and
is shot for refusing to drop an object in his hand that turns
out to be a cell phone. A similar example is the schizophrenic
homeless person who has heretofore been known only as a
noisy neighborhood pest, but now is psychotically waving
around a hammer or a kitchen knife and is shot while lunging
at the officer.
A common reaction is anger at the suspect himself for
forcing the officer to take a life, even if it is the suspect’s own
life. Inasmuch as anger and guilt are often intertwined, greater
anger may be shown toward a relatively more “innocent”
IJEMH • Vol. 8, No. 4 • 2006 243
suspect whose stupid behavior resulted in a totally unneces-
sary shooting – e.g., the psychotic street person or the kid
with the big mouth – than at a suspect who more clearly
“deserves” to get shot – e.g., the armed robber fleeing a bank
who fires at the officer first. Much of this anger may smolder
below the surface and emerge as general irritability, problems
with authority, and family conflicts (Miller, 2004, in press-c).
Degree of control and conflict extend into the post-shoot-
ing phase as well. The amount and kind of attention the
officer receives from his administration, peers, the commu-
nity, and the media will influence his own reaction to the
event (Blau, 1994; Bohrer, 2005; Henry, 2004; Klein, 1991;
Russell & Biegel, 1990; Rynearson, 1988, 1994; Rynearson &
McCreery, 1993; Sewell, 1986; Sprang & McNeil, 1995). Su-
pervisors and administrators are understandably concerned
about the public relations aspect of a shooting and, although
most are generally supportive of their personnel, their effort
to appear objective and unbiased to the public may at times
make it seem that they’re coming down too hard on the of-
ficer.
The reactions of the officer’s peers may help or harm his
attempts to cope with the situation. As noted above, at first
he may receive accolades from his fellow officers for “finish-
ing the job.” Because of the powerful identification factor,
peers may want to hear all about the event, because someday
they may be there too and they want to believe that, in the
breach, they will do the right thing. Many of these peers also
hope that the officer’s guts to pull the trigger will rub off on
them should they encounter a similar situation. However, if
the officer fails to regale them with an uplifting narrative of
struggle and triumph, and instead reveals the conflict, doubt,
and pain he is going through, the contagion effect may cause
his fellow officers to avoid him.
The implied psychological contract of such post-crisis
mutual congratulatory rituals seems to involve a kind of blan-
ket immunity against what Solomon and Horn (1986) call the
mark of Cain and Henry (2004) describes as the death taint:
“You have made real for us the life-and-death situation we all
fear. So you’d better show us how nobly and heroically
you’re dealing with this, throw us a positive spin, or all you’ve
done is shove our mortality in our faces, which freaks us out,
and then to protect ourselves, we’ll will shun you or degrade
you.” This probably accounts for the creepily uncomfort-
able backslapping attaboys that are so commonly inflicted
on the officer by his colleagues after a shooting. Unfortu-
nately, these reactions may only serve to heighten the officer’s
anxiety about what he would really do “next time.”
Even if they won’t admit it to their brother officers, many
officers feel genuinely sad at having had to take a human life,
even if they objectively recognize that they had no choice in
the situation and that the perpetrator clearly asked for it.
Human nature being what it is, police officers and others,
such as soldiers, who are trained to kill when necessary, can-
not just shed their familial, religious, and cultural upbringing
when they don the uniform. An officer may thus become
irritated at his colleagues who want him to play the happy
warrior, while they have no clue as to the turmoil he is going
through. But the officer is hurting and still needs all the
support he can get so, fearing rejection, he may not want to
burst his colleagues’ bubble. He thus feels compelled to put
up a brave facade so as not to alienate this well-meaning, if
lunkheaded, source of support from his peers. Painful as
putting up this false front may be, it’s still better than total
isolation (Miller, 2006).
On-Scene Response
All of the factors noted above have important implica-
tions for productive departmental management and helpful
clinical intervention of OISs at every stage of the event, from
incident response to follow-up resolution. By far, the most
common complaint voiced by these officers concerns their
treatment by their own departments, from the first post-inci-
dent moments onward. Even in uncontestedly “righteous”
shootings, officers often feel demeaned and treated like guilty
suspects, setting up a vicious cycle of suspicion and recrimi-
nation.
The corollary prescription is that every officer who has
risked his life should be treated with basic courtesy and re-
spect. Even if there is suspicion of misconduct, there is
nothing to be gained from an adversarial attitude – indeed,
an officer who is treated decently will be more inclined to
cooperate with investigators (Miller, 2004). Thus, the proper
handling of involved officers begins at the shooting scene
itself.
On-Scene Law Enforcement Response
In many departments, an OIS results in the call-out of
many departmental personnel, including other officers, the
involved officer’s supervisors, the chief of police in some
smaller jurisdictions, paramedics, and typically the depart-
244 Miller • Officer Involved Shooting
ment psychologist, if there is one. I present here a composite
model protocol for on-scene response to officer-involved
shootings culled and amalgamated from a variety of sources
(Baruth, 1986; Blau, 1994; IACP, 2004; McMains, 1986a, 1986b,
1991; Williams, 1991). This model can be adapted and modi-
fied to the needs of the individual police agency. How this
protocol is carried out in practice can make a tremendous
difference in the later psychological adjustment of the in-
volved officers and in department-wide morale.
In the policy-and-procedure planning stages, it should
be decided which personnel respond to what types of critical
incidents, including shootings. As noted above, responders
may include back-up officers, administrative officials, depart-
mental investigators, peer support staff, mental health pro-
fessionals, departmental attorney, media spokesperson, police
chief or division captain, and others. At the time of the shoot-
ing, all designated personnel should respond to the scene.
Reassurance to the involved officer should be provided
by departmental authorities. Reassurance, in this context,
doesn’t have to (and at this early stage, probably shouldn’t)
entail any positive or negative judgment about the officer’s
actions, but should simply communicate an understanding
and appreciation of what the officer has just been through,
and the assurance that the department will support him or her
as much as possible throughout the process. As noted above,
one of the biggest complaints officers have about the post-
shooting departmental response is the feeling that “I’m be-
ing treated like a criminal by my own people.” Especially at
this psychologically sensitive stage, the officer should be
given the benefit of the doubt and treated with respect by
departmental authorities.
The officer should be provided on-scene access to legal
counsel and to a mental health professional. In many juris-
dictions officers may refrain from making any statement to
authorities at the scene until an attorney is present and/or
until they have been assessed by a qualified mental health
professional as mentally fit to make a statement. This pro-
tects the officer’s rights and at the same time makes it difficult
to later challenge any on-scene statements on the basis of
their having been made under mental duress.
The officer’s weapon will almost always be impounded.
This is a fairly standard on-scene policy, but the way it is
carried out will make a big difference in how the officer ad-
justs to the post-shooting aftermath. In the worst case, the
officer is unceremoniously stripped of his sidearm in full view
of his colleagues, and in some cases in front of jeering by-
standers, and is forced to parade around with an empty hol-
ster – the epitome of emasculatory humiliation. In the best
case, the weapon is turned over in private, and in many in-
stances a replacement weapon is provided or the empty hol-
ster removed while the on-scene investigation proceeds.
At some shooting scenes, personnel remain at the site
for hours. This may be necessary for purposes of the inves-
tigation and to deal with community members and the media,
but no one should hang around the scene longer than neces-
sary and everything possible should be done to discourage
the development of a carnival atmosphere. In particular, it is
recommended that the officer be removed from the scene as
quickly as possible. Again, this should be done in a private
and respectful way, perhaps the officer being driven home or
back to the station by a supervisor or a pair of colleagues, to
await further action. They should accompany him to his
door and leave only when he has assured them he is okay.
Of course, when necessary, the officer should be pro-
vided with medical care, either at the scene or at a local hos-
pital. The officer’s family should be notified of the shooting
in person as soon as possible, even if everybody is still on-
scene: the last thing you want is for the family to hear about
the shooting on the radio or TV, or get a call from neighbor
who’s seen or heard the story. If the family is out of town,
every effort should be made to contact them, preferably
through direct contact by a law enforcement agency in that
location.
If media arrive at the scene, the officer should be shielded
from them and any statements should be made through a
departmental spokesperson. Most medium-to-large depart-
ments have a Public Information Officer who is part of the
critical incident response team; in smaller agencies, the Sher-
iff or Chief may have to be the front person. In general, any
statement that could affect the internal investigation or other
legal action should be avoided. Agencies should consult
with their departmental attorneys about local and state regu-
lations as part of the process of developing their own OIS
policies.
On-Scene Psychological Intervention
Encouragingly, at least one study has found that 100%
of large departments and 69% of small departments provide
professional support for traumatized officers (McMains,
1986a; 1986b). As part of the on-scene response team, the
IJEMH • Vol. 8, No. 4 • 2006 245
police psychologist has a specific but important role to play
(McMains, 1991; McMains & Mullins, 1996).
First, the nature of the incident must be determined. When
the call-out psychologist gets the call, he or she should try to
find out as much as possible about the incident and the cur-
rent scene as possible. This may vary, depending on the
timing of the call. Sometimes, the call may come within min-
utes of the shooting incident, in which case there is not much
information to be had, other than the location of the scene.
Other times, the psychologist may be called almost as an
afterthought, hours after the rest of the responders have
arrived, only because someone has suggested that the psy-
chologist be contacted due to unforeseen complications at
the scene. This kind of snafu usually reflects a problem with
the call-out policy at the planning stages or it may occur in a
very dangerous or complex scene where other services, such
as medical or biotox decontamination, may take precedence.
As a rule, however, if there is a call-out psychologist, he or
she should be summoned to the scene as soon as possible.
When the psychologist arrives at the scene, the involved
officer should be identified and his mental status determined.
This may range from extremes of panic, confusion, and dis-
orientation – rare, in my experience – to unnatural calmness
and stoic denial (“I’m okay; no problem”) – a far more com-
mon response. Frequently, emotions will swing at the scene,
the officer blank and icy one moment, then nervous and shaky
the next. As discussed below, validating these reactions as
normal stress responses is an important part of on-scene
intervention.
A comfortable place should be found to conduct the
interview with the officer. “On-scene” doesn’t necessarily
mean standing over a body or pacing back and forth in front
of the news cameras. I’ve conducted on-scene interviews
behind bushes, under trees, behind a throng of officers or a
row of vehicles, in the back seat of patrol cars, and in a SWAT
wagon. As long as the officer stays inside the established
perimeter and can be found by authorities when needed, he
or she is still technically on-scene.
For the visibly upset officer, calming and distraction tech-
niques may be utilized to bring his mental state into a more
rational and receptive mode. For the defensive, sealed-over
officer, what I often find helpful is a one-on-one version of
the critical incident stress management procedure known as
defusing, which follows a basic tripartite structure (Miller,
1999a; Mitchell & Everly, 1996):
First, the officer should be asked what happened. This
will typically elicit a stiff, dry, detail-laden rendition of events,
as if the officer were testifying before a review board or in
court:
Officer: I saw the guy coming out the dark breezeway,
carrying a box or something bulky like that, hugging the wall
like he was trying to hide. I identified myself as a police
officer and told him to stop, put the box down slowly, and
face the wall. He dropped the box and put his hand in his
pocket. I drew my weapon and ordered him to freeze. He
pulled out something metal, which I took to be a blade or a
firearm. He was standing under one of the breezeway lights
and I remember seeing a yellow glint off the object. I drew
down on him in a modified Weaver stance and ordered him to
drop the object. He raised it higher and started coming to-
wards me. In fear for my life, I fired, I think, three or four
times. He fell and was quiet, and the object skidded several
feet away into the grass. I radioed for backup and attempted
to administer aid, but I think he was already dead. I located
the object and found that it was a small, silvery semiauto with
a taped grip.
Listening to the story will give a good sense of the se-
quence of events. Next, the officer should be asked to de-
scribe “what was going on in your mind while it was
happening.” This often elicits clues to the officers cognitive
and emotional state:
Officer: The guy and me kind of surprised each other. I
guess neither of us expected the other one to be on the cam-
pus that time of night, so we both sort of jumped when we
saw each other. I could feel the adrenalin jack up my body. I
don’t think I really had time to be nervous, I just kind of went
on automatic and the whole thing had a kind of unreal aspect
to it, you know what I mean? – like it was me doing it, but it
wasn’t me. After I found the gun and called on the radio,
that’s when it hit me I could’ve been killed. Then, shit, sud-
denly I’m shaking like a little girl; it was embarrassing. But I
pulled it together before the other guys got there.
Finally, the officer should be provided with information
and support regarding any disturbing reactions that he may
be having at the scene. It should be remembered that the
goal of on-scene psychological intervention is not to con-
duct psychotherapy: that may or may not come later. Rather,
the immediate goal is to allow the officer to loosen up just
enough to be able to assess his mental status, but be able to
use temporary mental strengthening techniques (Miller, 2006)
246 Miller • Officer Involved Shooting
to help him “keep it together” until the immediate crisis is
resolved:
Psychologist: Hey, man, you’re just following the text-
book. Any time somebody’s in an emergency or crisis mode,
nature puts the nervous system on autopilot so we can con-
centrate of what we need to do to get the job done and live
through the experience. It’s like the adrenalin acts like mental
Novocain to numb you out just enough to survive and let
your survival instinct and training kick in. Then, after this
“Novocain” wears off, you feel all the emotions as a delayed
reaction. So, from what you’ve told me, there’s nothing un-
usual about your response. It’s not my ultimate judgment
call to make, but from how you described it, it sounds like
you did what you had to do.
As noted above, one reason for an accurate assessment
of the officer’s mental status at the scene is for the determina-
tion of mental fitness to make a statement to authorities, which
may be very important for subsequent legal aspects of the
case. Although in my experience this is rare, some officers
may be sufficiently confused, disoriented, emotionally vul-
nerable, and cognitively suggestible to be legally incompe-
tent to understand their legal rights and/or to make a statement
to authorities at the scene – a kind of “temporary insanity”
caused by extreme traumatic stress. In such cases, the psy-
chologist may recommend that investigators wait until the
officer has had a chance to recover some measure of psycho-
logical equilibrium, which may require only a few minutes to
calm down or some basic reassuring intervention at the scene,
or, in the extreme case, may necessitate removal to a safe
facility for further evaluation and treatment.
Psychologists who make the recommendation to post-
pone the on-scene investigation can expect flak from investi-
gators who want to get on with the process, as well as
sometimes from the on-scene departmental attorney, although
the latter will typically support any recommendation that will
prevent unnecessary self-incrimination of the officer. A re-
lated issue is confidentiality. Technically, anything said in
confidence to a licensed mental health clinician is protected
by doctor-patient confidentiality. But this is not as strong as
attorney-client privilege, and, in extremely politically sensi-
tive cases, psychologists’ records and/or testimony may be
subpoenaed if one side or the other is being particularly ag-
gressive in pressing their case. In such circumstances, it is
important to remember that, from a psychological point of
view, the exact details of what happened in the incident are
less important than the officer’s psychological reaction, and
that psychologist’s job as an on-scene mental health profes-
sional is not necessarily to record all the minutiae of the
officer’s recollection or judge the merits of his actions, but to
assess how the incident is affecting his mental status at the
scene.
Following my on-scene evaluation and while still at the
site, I will usually make a recommendation for at least one
follow-up evaluation at my office, scheduled several days
post-incident. This gives the officer a few days to calm down
and loosen up, and allows me to get a better perspective on
how he or she is coping psychologically after the initial shock
of the incident has worn off. This also serves as an informal
fitness-for-duty (FFD) evaluation in a nonconfrontational
setting; additionally, such an FFD evaluation may be for-
mally mandated by some departments as a precondition to
the officer returning to work (Rostow & Davis, 2004). At
follow-up, if the officer is assessed to be experiencing no
unusual signs or symptoms (some degree of residual dis-
tress is normal for a few days or weeks), release to full duty is
usually recommended. Otherwise, a range of recommenda-
tions may be made, such as additional time off with or with-
out subsequent follow-up psychotherapy. Again, police
psychologists should always consult with their departments
regarding protocols for such incidents – ideally, they should
be involved in developing those protocols.
Psychological Management of Officer-
Involved Shootings
Following the original shooting incident and the follow-
up session, some officers may request additional sessions
with the psychologist “to get my head straight about this.”
In other cases, a supervisor may recommend this or may
order it. In still other cases, there may not have been any on-
scene intervention at all, and the follow-up consultation is
the first contact between the officer and the psychologist.
As with any critical incident, it is important that each depart-
ment have in place a system for smooth and nonstigmatized
referral of officers for mental health counseling when they
need it (Miller, 2006).
Principles and Guidelines of Post-Shooting Inter-
vention
A number of authors (Horn, 1991; McMains, 1986a, 1991;
Wittrup, 1986; Zeling, 1986) have developed a set of recom-
mendations for implementing psychological services follow-
IJEMH • Vol. 8, No. 4 • 2006 247
ing an OIS. Thse have been summarized and adapted here.
The reader will note that most of these are, in fact, specialized
and individualized applications of the general principles of
law enforcement critical incident intervention (Miller, 1998,
1999a, 2000, 2006).
The intervention should begin as soon after the shoot-
ing incident as possible, indeed, as noted above, on-scene.
In some cases, an officer’s obvious distress at the scene or
shortly thereafter creates the need for an immediate interven-
tion. In other cases, distress may be suppressed or con-
cealed for hours, days, or weeks, so intervention must await
the time that problems in coping become apparent. In such
cases, intervention should not be rushed, but should be
started as quickly as possible when the need surfaces. In
any event, a departmental policy should be developed that
gives priority to these referrals so that, at a minimum, an
officer can be seen within 24 hours of a request.
McMains (1986a, 1991) believes that the intervention
should occur as close to the time of the shooting as possible
in order to minimize the sensitization to any possible trauma.
This, of course, is the essence of on-scene intervention.
However, I believe that clinical judgment should prevail on a
case-by-case basis, and that in some cases, as just noted
above, the best thing that can be done is to remove the of-
ficer from the scene to prevent heightened sensitization and
continual retraumatization. This is especially true where the
officer’s on-scene distress clearly continues to grow with
each passing minute spent at the site.
Nevertheless, to provide for the most efficient and effec-
tive use of time and resources, subsequent intervention
should be undertaken at a location that the officer finds safe
and nonthreatening, usually an office away from the depart-
ment. Depending on the officer’s shift schedule, a regular
time should be established for the sessions.
Intervention should be short-term and focused on sup-
porting officers through the crisis, as well as returning them
to active duty as soon as possible. The range of issues to be
covered will be determined on a case-by-case basis, depend-
ing on how the incident has affected the officer, his family,
colleagues, and others. But the general guideline is that
post-shooting psychological intervention should be focused
on resolving the critical incident in question.
Clinically, the psychologist should remember that his or
her role in these treatment settings is as therapist and sup-
portive advocate, not investigator or judge. What the psy-
chologist is advocating for is the officer’s mental health and
stability, not any particular side of the case. Accordingly, a
realistically positive atmosphere should prevail during the
course of the intervention. Absent clear evidence to the
contrary, the assumption should be that the officer acted
properly, can successfully manage the current crisis with a
little help, and will soon return to active status. Indeed, dur-
ing particularly contentious investigations, the
psychologist’s office may be the only place the officer does
not feel like a hounded criminal.
Administratively, confidentiality should be respected and
protected by the department, and the only information from
psychological counseling available to outside authorities
should be the psychologist’s written summaries of case sta-
tus, fitness-for-duty, and other administratively-relevant data.
Indeed, to have any credible program of psychological ser-
vices, officers must feel secure that, except insofar as they
relate to a specific departmental referral question, personally
sensitive information, thoughts, and feelings do not leave
the psychologist’s office (Miller, 1995, 1999b, 2000, 2003b,
2006).
Even if the department strives to scrupulously respect
doctor-patient confidentiality, others may not be so accom-
modating. For example, relatives of shooting victims who
bring civil rights violation charges against the officer or file
lawsuits against the department or municipality may try to
subpoena psychological records or testimony to use in their
case. Accordingly, Wittrup (1986) recommends that police
psychologists receive from the jurisdiction a formal, written
statement of referral, along with a save from prosecution
and/or civil litigation document, so that they are relatively
insulated from such assaults on confidentiality. Again, psy-
chologists should be aware of the laws, rules, and regula-
tions of their respective localities.
Post-Shooting Psychotherapeutic Strategies
On initial contact with the officer, the psychologist’s
role may replicate the basic intervention stages of a critical
incident stress debriefing model (Bohl, 1995; Miller, 1999a,
2000; Mitchell & Everly, 1996), applied, in this case, on an
individual level.
First, the facts of the case should be reviewed with the
officer. Similar to the fact phase of a debriefing, this allows
for a relatively nonemotional narrative of the traumatic event.
But in the case of an OIS, it serves a further function. Pre-
248 Miller • Officer Involved Shooting
cisely because of the cognitive and perceptual distortions
that commonly occur in these kinds of incidents, what may
be particularly disturbing to the officer is the lack of clarity in
his own mind as to the actual nature and sequence of events.
Just being able to review what is known about the facts of
the case in a relatively safe and nonadversarial environment
may provide a needed dose of mental clarity and sanity to the
situation. In fact, Solomon (1991, 1995) describes one such
format for this process as going over the incident “frame by
frame,” allowing the officer to verbalize the moment-to-mo-
ment thoughts, perceptions, sensory details, feelings, and
actions that occurred during the critical incident. This format
helps the officer become aware of, sort out, and understand
what happened.
Next, the officers thoughts and feelings about the shoot-
ing incident should be reviewed. This resembles the thought
and reaction phases of a debriefing, but may not be as cut-
and-dried as with a typical group debriefing. It should be
remembered that an OIS represents a special kind of critical
incident and it may take more than one attempt for the officer
to productively untangle and reveal what’s going on in his
mind. He should be given extra time or extra sessions to
express his thoughts and feelings, and his reaction should
be monitored so as not to encourage unproductive spewing
or loss of control. One of the most important things the
psychologist can do at this stage is to help modulate emo-
tional expression so that it comes as a relief, not as an added
burden.
The officer should be provided with authoritative and
factual information about psychological reactions to a shoot-
ing incident. The kinds of cognitive and perceptual distor-
tions that take place during an OIS, the posttraumatic
symptoms and disturbances, and the sometimes offputting
and distressing reactions of colleagues and family members,
are likely to be quite alien to the officers ordinary experience,
and might be interpreted by him or her as signs of going soft
or crazy. The clinician should attempt to normalize these
responses for the officer, taking a somewhat more personal
and individualistic approach than might be found in the typi-
cal group debriefing’s information-education phase. Often,
just this kind of authoritative reassurance from a credible
mental health professional can mitigate the officer’s anxiety
considerably.
Finally, follow-up services, which may include additional
individual sessions, family therapy, referral to support ser-
vices, possible medication referral, and so on, should be pro-
vided for the officer. As with most cases of critical incident
psychological intervention, follow-up psychotherapy for OISs
tends to be short-term, although additional services may be
sought later for other problems partially related or unrelated
to the incident. Indeed, any kind critical incident may often
be the stimulus to explore other troublesome aspects of an
officers life and the success in resolving the incident with
the psychologist may give the officer confidence to pursue
these other issues in an atmosphere of trust (Blau, 1994;
Miller, 1998, 2006).
Peer Support Programs
To augment or supplement professional mental health
services, an increasing number of police departments have
instituted peer support programs for the psychological af-
termath of OISs and other critical incidents.
Rationale of Peer Support
Some general assumptions underlie the use of peers as
counselors (Klein, 1991; Levenson & Dwyer, 2003; McMains,
1991). First, it is assumed that fellow police officers will have
more credibility than mental health professionals because
the former have “been there” and “know the job.” There may
well be legitimate situations where an officer may feel more
comfortable with a fellow officer; however, in my experience
(Miller, 2006), this has not been an issue, and I have not yet
had an officer refuse to see me (that I know of), or hold back
on self-disclosure (as far as I can discern), because I’m not a
sworn officer. In fact, the opposite seems to be true. Many
officers have commented that they are relieved to talk to
someone outside the departmental fishbowl and outside of
law enforcement generally. They already know, or think they
know, the predictable response they’re going to get from
their brass and colleagues, and they’re looking for a fresh
perspective. Additionally, talking to a nonofficer removes
the “competition factor” – that is, no matter how sympathetic
a fellow officer may be, the officer in crisis may still fear ap-
pearing weak or ineffectual before one of his own by reveal-
ing too much about his reactions to the critical incident.
I’ve gotten some feedback from colleagues who are both
licensed mental health professionals and sworn active or re-
tired officers, and even they have experienced a reluctance of
officers to open up because the officer-therapist “is still a
cop at heart.” Other officers have commented that officer-
therapists sometimes take a presumptive attitude that “be-
IJEMH • Vol. 8, No. 4 • 2006 249
cause I am/was an officer, I know what you’re going through,”
even before letting the officer in crisis fully express himself.
Remember, an officer after an OIS is often in a prickly hyper-
sensitive state of “no-you-don’t-friggin-know-what-I’m go-
ing-through,” and may resent even well-meaning expressions
of commiseration by peers. In such cases, a civilian psy-
chologist may actually be a more sympathetic and receptive
audience because he or she doesn’t pretend to know it all
and humbly understands that there is something to learn
from the officer’s experience.
On the other hand, some officers may simply be too
creeped-out by the thought of seeing a “real shrink” to avail
themselves of formal psychological services. Or they may
have had unpleasant experiences with mental health profes-
sionals in the past, either within or outside the context of
their law enforcement careers (Max, 2000). Many officers
just feel more comfortable talking with fellow cops. In par-
ticular, some of the old-timers, who began their careers be-
fore the modern therapy-culture era, may be more used to the
command structure model of discussing problems with a se-
nior officer. And, just because I personally have experienced
little difficulty with officers’ willingness to see me, I’ll never
know how many officers silently declined to make the call
because they felt that I just wouldn’t understand where
they’re coming from, or were just too put off by the prospect
of seeing a mental health practitioner of any kind. Still an-
other consideration concerns the demographics of the law
enforcement community I serve, which may be somewhat
more receptive to mental health services than police depart-
ments in other parts of the country.
For these reasons, I do encourage the development of
law enforcement peer support programs, not because profes-
sional psychologists are necessarily less effective at helping
cops, but because there will be times when another cop is the
best resource, or at least the best initial point of contact, for
an officer in distress. In fact, a fair number of referrals to my
office have come from officers who know me and have en-
couraged other, more skittish cops to “at least give the guy a
shot.” One further advantage of using officer peers as coun-
selors relates to basic bullshit-detection. In a few cases,
some officers, especially if they are under investigation for a
suspicious shooting, may actually prefer talking to a civilian
psychologist precisely because they feel they can do a snow
job on the unsuspecting softie. This kind of dissimulation
may be less successful with a fellow officer peer-counselor
who knows the ropes.
Another assumption of peer counseling is that police
officers don’t usually require extensive mental health ser-
vices because they are a select sample of professionals, at
least somewhat more mentally stable than the general popu-
lation by virtue of their initial screening and training (Klein,
1991; McMains, 1991; Miller, 2003a, 2004). Critical incident
stress responses, including those resulting from officer-in-
volved shootings, are seen as normal reactions to an abnor-
mal situation by relatively normal people, and the goal of
peer counseling is to restore officers’ original psychological
equilibrium, not make fundamental changes in their person-
alities. This, of course, is consistent with the whole philoso-
phy of critical incident intervention (Blau, 1994; Bohl, 1995;
Miller, 1998, 1999a, 2000, Mitchell & Everly, 1996).
Structure of Peer Support Programs
Peer counseling teams almost always consist of volun-
teers who have a good performance history with the depart-
ment, and who have gone through some form of formal
training and certification program, which includes a basic
understanding of psychological stress syndromes; basic cri-
sis intervention and counseling skills; understanding spe-
cial problems encountered with officer-involved shootings
and other critical incidents; and knowing when and how to
refer for professional mental health services when necessary.
In this regard, departments that institute peer counseling
programs should be sure to make professional psychological
backup help available if further treatment is indicated.
Always important is the issue of confidentiality. Offic-
ers may fear unwarranted disclosure, especially with counse-
lors who are peers and not licensed professionals. This issue
cannot be overemphasized because the success of a peer
support programs will stand or fall based on the confidence
officers have in the peer counselors’ discretion and compe-
tence. Again, this fear of the fishbowl and rumor mill is one of
the reasons officers may actually prefer to talk to an outside
clinician. More practically, what happens if the peer-coun-
seled officer admits that he was intoxicated during the shoot-
ing, or expresses a clear racist bias that may have contributed
to his decision to use deadly force? What does the peer
counselor do then? These issues must be carefully worked
out in advance for a peer counselor system to work.
The basic elements of peer counseling are not very dif-
ferent from professional clinical intervention in relatively
noncomplex cases, and include active listening skills; allow-
ing the officer to ventilate and tell his story in a supportive,
250 Miller • Officer Involved Shooting
nonjudgmental atmosphere; provision of reassurance and making any unauthorized statements to the media.”
accurate information about stress syndromes; recommenda-
tion of strategies for handling symptoms and dealing with
other people during the investigation and recovery process;
and referral for professional mental health services, if neces-
sary (Blau, 1994; Klein, 1991).
Model Post-Shooting Intervention Programs
Elsewhere (Miller, 2006), I have reviewed in detail sev-
eral post-shooting intervention programs from around the
country (Antonovsky & Bernstein, 1986; Milgram & Hobfoll,
1986; Solomon & Mastin, 1999; Somodevilla, 1986) that illus-
trate the basic elements of peer support and professional
intervention for OISs. Here I will summarize the key elements
that such successful programs share in common. This model
can be used as a template by police psychologists and the
law enforcement agencies they serve to design, modify, or
adapt their own post-shooting programs and protocols to
the needs of their individual agencies.
Reasonable respect and compassion: “We hear what
you’re going through”.
Departmental reassurance and validation: “We may
not have all the facts yet, but the leadership is behind you.”
Information flow: “Within the limits of departmental
policies and procedures, we’ll do everything we can to keep
you in the loop.”
Removal from the scene: “Let’s go sit in my patrol unit
and go over what happened.”
Replacement firearm: “Here’s a temporary issue till the
investigation is complete.”
Access to an attorney: “The departmental attorney is on
her way to the scene. For later on, here’s how to contact your
PBA rep.
Family welfare: “We’re going to call your family and let
them know you’re all right, and that you may have to stay
past your shift till we’re finished here.”
Shooting folder: “This is a private file, separate from
your regular jacket, kept by the Captain, so we can accurately
collate the facts relevant to this case and communicate only
with those on a need-to-know basis.”
Handling media: “Our departmental spokesperson will
be running interference for you during this process and we
appreciate your cooperation in honoring our policy of not
Administrative leave: “Please understand that this is
not a disciplinary suspension, but that this kind of adminis-
trative leave is part of our departmental policy, both for your
own welfare and to give us time to complete our investiga-
tion.”
Psychological services: “Please feel free to access our
departmental psychologist or any other qualified mental
health professional you choose. This is not a requirement or
a fitness-for-duty exam, but is for your own well-being and is
confidential.”
Peer support: “Would you like to talk to Tony? He’s a
fellow officer who’s been through some critical incidents him-
self; he knows the drill.”
Support from the wider law enforcement community and
concerned citizens: “Hey, we’re getting calls from the depu-
ties over in the next county asking how you’re doing. And
some of the church members on the block where you took
down that crack house have written a nice letter of commen-
dation to the Chief.
Reinforcement of professional competence: “We’re not
pulling you totally out of service, officer. If you’re up to it we
still need your help, so for now you’re reassigned to commu-
nications.”
Opportunity to learn and grow: “We’re gonna make
some good out of this by learning how to keep our officers
safer.”
Overall, successful post-shooting programs share the
important common elements of: (1) flexible access to peer
counselors and/or mental health professionals; (2) mainte-
nance of an attitude of respect for involved officers, backed
up by appropriate actions; and (3) unequivocal support and
encouragement of the peer support program from top levels
of the department or agency.
CONCLUSIONS
Officer-involved shootings (OISs) need not be the most
traumatic critical incidents in policing, but when they are, the
reasons are usually due to a mix of incident characteristics,
officer response styles, and departmental handling. By pro-
viding immediate administrative, legal, psychological, and
peer support services to officers in need, investigators typi-
cally find their jobs easier. Even in the unfortunate case of a
“rogue cop” being found to have negligently or deliberately
IJEMH • Vol. 8, No. 4 • 2006 251
used excessive force, how a department deals with its worst
will be watched very carefully by officers who want to infer
what will happen to the rest among them if they ever have to
fire their weapon in order to discharge their duty to protect.
In the entire process of managing an OIS, police psycholo-
gists have a vital and indispensable role to play.
REFERENCES
Allen, S.W. (2004). Dynamics in responding to departmental
personnel. In V. Lord (Ed.), Suicide by Cop: Inducing Of-
ficers to Shoot (pp. 245-257). Flushing: Looseleaf Law
Publications.
Anderson, W., Swenson, D. & Clay, D. (1995). Stress Man-
agement for Law Enforcement Officers. Englewood Cliffs:
Prentice Hall.
Antonovsky, A. & Bernstein, J. (1986). Pathogenesis and
salutogenesis in war and other crises: Who studies the
successful coper? In N. Milgram (Ed.), Stress and Coping
in Times of War (pp. 89-121). New York: Brunner/Mazel.
Artwohl, A. (2002). Perceptual and memory distortion during
officer-involved shootings. FBI Law Enforcement Bulle-
tin, October, pp. 18-24.
Baruth, C. (1986). Pre-critical incident involvement by psy-
chologists. In J.T. Reese & H.A. Goldstein (Eds.), Psycho-
logical Services for Law Enforcement (pp. 413-417). Wash-
ington DC: USGPO.
Blau, T.H. (1986). Deadly force: Psychological factors and
objective evaluation: A preliminary effort. In J.T. Reese &
H.A. Goldstein (Eds.), Psychological Services for Law
Enforcement (pp. 315-334). Washington DC: USGPO.
Blau, T.H. (1994). Psychological Services for Law Enforce-
ment. New York: Wiley.
Blum, L.N. (2000). Force Under Pressure: How Cops Live
and Why They Die. New York: Lantern Books.
Bohl, N. (1995). Professionally administered critical incident
debriefing for police officers. In M.I. Kunke & E.M. Scrivner
(Eds.), Police Psychology Into the 21
st
Century (pp. 169-
188). Hillsdale: Erlbaum.
Bohrer, S. (2005). After firing the shots, what happens? FBI
Law Enforcement Bulletin, September, pp. 8-13.
Bowman, M. (1997). Individual Differences In Posttraumatic
Response: Problems with the Adversity-Distress Connec-
tion. Mahwah: Erlbaum.
Cloherty, J.J. (2004). Legal defense of law enforcement offic-
ers in police shooting cases. In V. Lord (Ed.), Suicide by
Cop: Inducing Officers to Shoot (pp. 85-150). Flushing:
Looseleaf Law Publications.
Cohen, A. (1980). “I’ve killed that man 10,000 times.” Police,
3, 4.
Curran, S. (2003). Separating fact from fiction about police
stress. Behavioral Health Management, 23, 1-2.
Geller, W.A. (1982). Deadly force: What we know. Journal of
Police Science and Administration, 10, 151-177.
Gilliland, B.E. & James, R.K. (1993). Crisis Intervention Strat-
egies (2
nd
ed.). Pacific Grove: Brooks/Cole.
Greenstone, J.L. & Leviton, S.C. (2001). Elements of Crisis
Intervention: Crises and How to Respond to Them. New
York: Wadsworth.
Henry, V.E. (2004). Death Work: Police, Trauma, and the Psy-
chology of Survival. New York: Oxford University Press.
Honig, A.L. & Roland, J.E. (1998). Shots fired: Officer involved.
The Police Chief, October, pp. 65-70.
Honig, A.L. & Sultan, E. (2004). Reactions and resilience un-
der fire: What an officer can expect. The Police Chief,
December, pp. 54-60.
Horn, J.M. (1991). Critical incidents for law enforcement of-
ficers. In J.T. Reese, J.M. Horn & C. Dunning (Eds.), Criti-
cal Incidents in Policing (rev. ed., pp. 143-148). Washing-
ton DC: Federal Bureau of Investigation.
International Association of Chiefs of Police (2004). Officer-
Involved Shooting Guidelines. Los Angeles: IACP.
Kennedy, D.B., Homant, R.J. & Hupp, R.T. (1998). Suicide by
cop. FBI Law Enforcement Bulletin, August, pp. 21-27.
Klein, R. (1991). The utilization of police peer counselors in
critical incidents. In J.T. Reese, J.M. Horn & C. Dunning
(Eds.), Critical Incidents in Policing (pp. 159-168). Wash-
ington DC: Federal Bureau of Investigation.
Levenson, R. L., Jr., & Dwyer, L. A. (2003). Peer support in
law enforcement: Past, present, and future. International
Journal of Emergency Mental Health, 5(3), 147-152.
Lindsay, M.S. & Dickson, D. (2004). Negotiating with the
suicide-by-cop subject. In V. Lord (Ed.), Suicide by Cop:
252 Miller • Officer Involved Shooting
Inducing Officers to Shoot (pp. 153-162). Flushing:
Looseleaf Law Publications.
Loftus, E.F., Greene, E.L. & Doyle, J.M. (1989). The psychol-
ogy of eyewitness testimony. In D.C. Raskin (Ed.), Psy-
chological Methods in Criminal Investigations and Evi-
dence (pp. 3-46). New York: Springer.
Max, D.J. (2000). The cop and the therapist. New York Times
Magazine, December 3, pp. 94-98.
McMains. M.J. (1986a). Post-shooting trauma: Demograph-
ics of professional support. In J.T. Reese & H. Goldstein
(Eds.), Psychological Services for Law Enforcement (pp.
361-364). Washington DC: US Government Printing Of-
fice.
McMains. M.J. (1986b). Post-shooting trauma: Principles from
combat. In J.T. Reese & H. Goldstein (Eds.), Psychologi-
cal Services for Law Enforcement (pp. 365-368). Wash-
ington DC: US Government Printing Office.
McMains, M.J. (1991). The management and treatment of
postshooting trauma. In J.T. Horn & C. Dunning (Eds.),
Critical Incidents in Policing (rev ed., pp. 191-198). Wash-
ington DC: Federal Bureau of Investigation.
McMains, M.J. & Mullins, W.C. (1996). Crisis Negotiations:
Managing Critical Incidents and Situations in Law En-
forcement and Corrections. Cincinnati: Anderson.
Milgram, N. & Hobfoll, S. (1986). Generalizations from theory
and practice in war-related stress. In N. Milgram (Ed.),
Stress and Coping in Times of War (pp. 22-41). New York:
Brunner/Mazel.
Miller, L. (1990). Inner Natures: Brain, Self and Personality.
New York: St. Martin’s Press.
Miller, L. (1995). Tough guys: Psychotherapeutic strategies
with law enforcement and emergency services personnel.
Psychotherapy, 32, 592-600.
Miller, L. (1998). Shocks to the System: Psychotherapy of
Traumatic Disability Syndromes. New York: Norton.
Miller, L. (1999a). Critical incident stress debriefing: Clinical
applications and new directions. International Journal
of Emergency Mental Health, 1, 253-265.
Miller, L. (1999b). Psychotherapeutic intervention strategies
with law enforcement and emergency services personnel.
In L. Territo & J.D. Sewell (Eds.), Stress Management in
Law Enforcement (pp. 317-332). Durham: Carolina Aca-
demic Press.
Miller, L. (2000). Law enforcement traumatic stress: Clinical
syndromes and intervention strategies. Trauma Response,
6(1), 15-20.
Miller, L. (2003a). Police personalities: Understanding and
managing the problem officer. The Police Chief, May, pp.
53-60.
Miller, L. (2003b). Law enforcement responses to violence
against youth: Psychological dynamics and intervention
strategies. In R.S. Moser & C.E. Franz (Ed.), Shocking
Violence II: Violent Disaster, War, and Terrorism Affect-
ing Our Youth (pp. 165-195). New York: Charles C. Tho-
mas.
Miller, L. (2004). Good cop – bad cop: Problem officers, law
enforcement culture, and strategies for success. Journal
of Police and Criminal Psychology, 19, 30-48.
Miller, L. (2005a). Police officer suicide: Causes, prevention,
and practical intervention strategies. International Jour-
nal of Emergency Mental Health, 7, 23-36.
Miller, L. (2005b). Hostage negotiation: Psychological prin-
ciples and practices. International Journal of Emergency
Mental Health, 7, 277-298.
Miller, L. (2006). Practical Police Psychology: Stress Man-
agement and Crisis Intervention for Law Enforcement.
Springfield: Charles C Thomas.
Miller, L. (in press-a). On the spot: Testifying in court for law
enforcement officers. FBI Law Enforcement Bulletin.
Miller, L. (in press-b). Negotiating with mentally disordered
hostage takers: Guiding principles and practical strate-
gies. Journal of Police Crisis Negotiations.
Miller, L. (in press-c). Police families: Stresses, syndromes,
and solutions. American Journal of Family Therapy.
Mitchell, J.T. & Everly, G.S. (1996). Critical Incident Stress
Debriefing: An Operations Manual for the Prevention of
Traumatic Stress Among Emergency Services and Disas-
ter Workers (rev. ed.). Ellicott City: Chevron.
Mitchell, J. T. & Levenson, R. L., Jr. (2006). Some thoughts
on providing effective mental health critical care for police
departments after line-of-duty deaths. International Jour-
nal of Emergency Mental Health, 8(1), 1-5.
Mohandie, K. & Meloy, J.R. (2000). Clinical and forensic indi-
cators of “suicide by cop.” Journal of Forensic Science,
45, 384-389.
IJEMH • Vol. 8, No. 4 • 2006 253
Nielsen, E. (1991). Traumatic incident corps: Lessons learned.
In J. Reese, J. Horn & C. Dunning (Eds.), Critical Inci-
dents in Policing (pp. 221-226). Washington DC: US Gov-
ernment Printing Office.
Perrou, B. & Farrell, B. (2004). Officer-involved shootings:
Case management and psychosocial investigations. In V.
Lord (Ed.), Suicide by Cop: Inducing Officers to Shoot
(pp. 239-242). Flushing: Looseleaf Law Publications.
Pinizzotto, A.J., Davis, E.F. & Miller, C.E. (2005). Suicide by
cop: Defining a devastating dilemma. FBI Law Enforce-
ment Bulletin, February, pp. 8-20.
Regehr, C. & Bober, T. (2005). In the Line of Fire: Trauma in
the Emergency Services. New York: Oxford University
Press.
Rostow, C.D. & Davis, R.D. (2004). A Handbook for Psycho-
logical Fitness-for-Duty Evaluations in Law Enforcement.
New York: Haworth.
Russell, H.E. & Beigel, A. (1990). Understanding Human Be-
havior for Effective Police Work (3
rd
ed.). New York: Basic
Books.
Rynearson, E.K. (1988). The homicide of a child. In F.M.
Ochberg (Ed.), Posttraumatic Therapy and Victims of Vio-
lence (pp. 213-224). New York: Brunner/Mazel.
Rynearson, E.K. (1994). Psychotherapy of bereavement after
homicide. Journal of Psychotherapy Practice and Re-
search, 3, 341-347.
Rynearson, E.K. (1996). Psychotherapy of bereavement after
homicide: Be offensive. In Session: Psychotherapy in
Practice, 2, 47-57.
Rynearson, E.K. & McCreery, J.M. (1993). Bereavement after
homicide: A synergism of trauma and loss. American Jour-
nal of Psychiatry, 150, 258-261.
Sewell, J.D. (1986). Administrative concerns in law enforce-
ment stress management. In J.T. Reese & H.A. Goldstein
(Eds.), Psychological Services for Law Enforcement (pp.
189-193). Washington DC: FBI.
Solomon, R.M. (1991). The dynamics of fear in critical inci-
dents: Implications for training and treatment. In J.T. Reese,
J.M. Horn & C. Dunning (Eds.), Critical Incidents in Po-
licing (pp. 347-358). Washington DC: Federal Bureau of
Investigation.
Solomon, R.M. (1995). Critical incident stress management in
law enforcement. In G.S. Everly (Ed.), Innovations in Di-
saster and Trauma Psychology: Applications in Emer-
gency Services and Disaster Response (pp. 123-157).
Ellicott City: Chevron.
Solomon, R.M. & Horn, (1986). Post-shooting traumatic reac-
tions: A pilot study. In J.T. Reese & H. Goldstein (Eds.),
Psychological Services for Law Enforcement (pp. 383-
393). Washington DC: US Government Printing Office.
Solomon, R.M. & Mastin, P. (1999). The emotional aftermath
of the Waco raid: Five years revisited. In J.M. Violanti &
D. Paton (Eds.), Police Trauma: Psychological Aftermath
of Civilian Combat (pp. 113-123). Springfield: Charles C
Thomas.
Somodevilla, S.A. (1986b). Post-shooting trauma: Reactive
and proactive treatment. In J.T. Reese & H. Goldstein
(Eds.), Psychological Services for Law Enforcement (pp.
395-398). Washington DC: US Government Printing Of-
fice.
Sprang, G. & McNeil, J. (1995). The Many Faces of Bereave-
ment: The Nature and Treatment of Natural, Traumatic,
and Stigmatized Grief. New York: Brunner/Mazel.
Twersky-Glasner,A. (2005). Police personality: What is it and
why are they like that? Journal of Police and Criminal
Psychology, 20, 56-67.
Wester, S.R. & Lyubelsky, J. (2005). Supporting the thin blue
line: Gender-sensitive therapy with male police officers.
Professional Psychology: Research and Practice, 36, 51-
58.
Williams. M.B. (1999). Impact of duty-related death on offic-
ers’ children: Concepts of death, trauma reactions, and
treatment. In J.M. Violanti & D. Paton (Eds.), Police
Trauma: Psychological Aftermath of Civilian Combat (pp.
159-174). Springfield: Charles C Thomas.
Williams, T. (1991). Counseling disabled law enforcement of-
ficers. In J.T. Reese, J.M. Horn & C. Dunning (Eds.), Criti-
cal Incidents in Policing (pp. 377-386). Washington DC:
Federal Bureau of Investigation.
Wittrup, R.G. (1986). Police shooting – An opportunity for
growth or loss of self. In J.T. Reese & H. Goldstein (Eds.),
Psychological Services for Law Enforcement (pp. 405-
408). Washington DC: US Government Printing Office.
Zeling, M. (1986). Research needs in the study of post-shoot-
ing trauma. In J.T. Reese & H.A. Goldstein (Eds.), Psycho-
logical Services for Law Enforcement (pp. 409-410). Wash-
ington DC: USGPO.
254 Miller • Officer Involved Shooting