Tough-look takeaways in the Jamar Clark case

Investigations continue — amid calls for more investigations — into the conduct of Minneapolis cops who killed Jamar Clark in November. But some basic facts have become clear and should be more forthrightly acknowledged.

The voluminous evidence released by Hennepin County Mike Freeman March 30 when he announced he won't pursue criminal charges against Officers Mark Ringgenberg and Dustin Schwarze demonstrates one thing at minimum:

No convincing evidence substantiates — instead, strong physical evidence refutes — the horrifying atrocity of which these cops have stood accused for months. That was the claim that Clark was handcuffed when he was executed, more or less like a hostage in a terror video.

Instead, the evidence tells a frustrating, heartbreaking tale of confusion, conflict, drunkenness, and police work that undeniably allowed the situation to lurch swiftly and catastrophically out of control.

The image of Clark in handcuffs turns out to have been a mirage — rather like the "hands up, don't shoot" tableau involving Ferguson, Missouri's Michael Brown (whose 2014 shooting kindled today's ongoing national debate over race and police violence). But the reality that's come into view in Minneapolis is murkier than the reality investigators ultimately detailed in Ferguson. Clark, it turns out, was less of an aggressor in his fatal encounter than Brown was in his.

Still, it's disappointing how few local public figures have been willing to back Freeman in at least plainly clearing these cops of an unspeakable barbarity — beyond fulsomely praising the prosecutor's "openness" and "accountability" (which they seem pleased to let him shoulder alone).

Gov. Mark Dayton's statement following Freeman's announcement seemed particularly craven, actually distancing the state's top elected official from the decision:

Such hesitance and uncertainty are rare in this governor. Dayton has seemed to consider himself quite the legal authority on constitutional issues concerning Minnesota's dubious practice of incarcerating sex offenders for decades after they have served their prison sentences. He's indignantly objected to a federal court's taking a "hard look" at that part of Minnesota's criminal-justice system.

And the governor's confidence in his own superior expertise is usually wide-ranging. Just this past week Dayton has deemed himself the authority best equipped to evaluate — for the entire nation — a proper legal balance between gay and transgender rights and claims of religious liberties. He has banned state employees' frivolous travel — er, "nonessential" travel — to North Carolina or Mississippi to punish those states for enacting laws that he thinks unconstitutionally discriminate.

But this oracle can't muster a simple opinion on the abundant evidence Freeman has laid out in the Clark case? Maybe Dayton's too busy evaluating what constitutes safe and fashionable politics. By comparison, Freeman looks heroic indeed.

Meanwhile, if Dayton or any other policymakers were actually interested in doing something to help prevent future police tragedies — something politically gutsy for a change — they might want to take a "hard look" at the disciplinary system through which leaders of law enforcement agencies must try to "police" their troops.

There's been wide discussion in the wake of the Clark shooting about the "not favored" takedown maneuver the officers used that night. More broadly, there's agreement about the need for better training and clearer policy guidelines on how confrontations should be handled. But policies and guidelines can only make a difference if officers feel compelled to follow orders.

Minneapolis Police Chief Janeé Harteau told me in an interview that this is one her greatest frustrations, sometimes leaving her feeling "powerless" yet still ultimately responsible.

I've noted before that one never has to search far for an arbitration ruling that confirms this problem. Let's see, how about a discipline appeal involving a Minneapolis cop, decided three months ago (tinyurl.com/jlrr8h6):

It seems a veteran Minneapolis officer was en route to an assault-in-progress in 2014. Not wanting to scare off the perpetrator, he used his siren only intermittently while speeding down a city thoroughfare— a clear violation of department policy, according to the arbitrator's ruling. The officer, the arbitrator reported, simply didn't agree with the policy, so didn't follow it. And the common sense of the rule became apparent when the squad car suffered a crash with a civilian motorist. Luckily, no one was seriously hurt, but the cop never made it to the scene of the assault.

So here was a Minneapolis officer, causing a dangerous mishap by willfully ignoring an explicit policy requirement designed to keep the public safe. What consequence followed? First, a disciplinary committee considered the matter and recommended a written reprimand instead of the 10-hour suspension called for under department guidelines for that transgression. Then a deputy chief looked things over and imposed the suspension after all.

The arbitrator judged that too harsh and overruled the deputy chief. A written scolding was enough.

Harteau says she hopes one day to modernize her department's "archaic contract" and "achieve the right to run a 21st-century police department, which would include more professional development and the ability to discipline when appropriate."

Maybe somebody should take a "hard look" at why that remains out of reach for now.