In a calmer moment this week, activist D.J. Hooker reflected on the likely outcome of a recent confrontation involving him and others with Minneapolis City Council Vice President Andrea Jenkins.

The appalling Sunday incident was captured in a 23-minute video and widely viewed on social media. In it, an angry, swearing group of protesters blocked a car Jenkins was in after leaving a Loring Park event and wouldn't let her pass for about 90 minutes until she signed a written list of demands.

During a follow-up interview with a Star Tribune reporter, Hooker said he would be "surprised if Jenkins followed through on the document she signed." There's a lesson there that Hooker and other bullies captured in this video should absorb:

When a hostile group detains an elected official in a vehicle and verbally abuses her, it's unlikely you've created an ally or furthered your cause. And that slip of paper Jenkins signed? Only a fool would think that signing something under that duress is a contractual obligation.

Far from advancing their noble goal of police accountability, Hooker and those with him undermined it. In detaining Jenkins and her car's driver, they crossed a critical line from activist to angry mob, potentially alienating others who might join them in pushing for needed reforms.

The group also senselessly antagonized a sympathetic elected official and placed unrealistic demands on her. Their verbal and written ultimatums, which included "leaving George Floyd Square alone," seemed to suggest that Jenkins could decree police reform and other policies on her own. That's not how representative government works.

Change is instead accomplished by building coalitions. Jenkins, who is a Black, transgender woman, is an influential leader, but she's also just one vote on a 13-member council. Enlisting her and other public servants, not alienating them, is how reforms will become reality.

Hooker and the others who confronted Jenkins won't like to hear this, but they have some things in common with the insurrectionists who stormed the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6. An anarchic spirit fueled both groups. Intimidation was also viewed as a means to an end.

Corrosive beliefs and behavior like this are at odds with a vibrant democracy. It's alarming to see groups with such disparate aims succumb to the temptation of coercion vs. persuasion. And, in Minneapolis, the intimidation directed at Jenkins is part of a disturbing trend the Star Tribune Editorial Board has previously decried.

Jenkins, to her credit, handled Sunday's confrontation without losing her cool. The epithets raining down on her while her car was blocked would have tested anyone's control.

In a public statement posted after the incident, she condemned being held "hostage" but added admirably that she remains willing to sit down with activists and advocates. Jenkins represents the Eighth Ward in south-central Minneapolis.

It's important to note that few have worked harder than Jenkins to include community concerns in city decisions — especially those related to George Floyd Square. She's a strong proponent of making choices with neighborhoods rather than for them.

But citizen stakeholders need to understand that being heard doesn't equal getting your way. If political progress falls short, or happens more slowly than desired, frustration is not license to abuse a public official. It's troubling that this needs to be made clear.

What occurred in the confrontation caught on video was not respectful dialogue nor a peaceful protest. It was a tantrum, one that reflects poorly on the judgment of all who blocked Jenkins.