The Police Arrive.

Several months ago, my wife and I had dinner with two friends. Both are retired. During the dinner conversation, the husband and wife brought up the fact that the previous morning, while they were eating breakfast, there was a knock on the front door; the husband opened the door to be confronted by a police detective who was acting on a tip provided by a concerned citizen.

The husband (I will call him Don, though not his real name) is a retired lawyer. For several years, he ran the professional regulation unit for the state of Florida, and he worked with the state legislature. Of all the people I know, Don is the most ethical. Therefore, my immediate thought was that there had been some criminal activity in the community. Maybe the police were canvassing the area, doing some "real" detective work.

My Friend Is A Thief.

I was surprised, actually shocked, to learn the detective had come to see Don about a crime he had committed. A local citizen reported seeing Don steal city property. Imagine my shock that my friend had been reported stealing city property. Don and his wife are well off financially, so the charge was even more surprising. We all know situations in life where someone we think is ethical turns out to be dishonest, but both emotionally and mentally, I could not accept that Don was dishonest.

A Dog's Walk In The Park.

Don explained the situation. He has a dog he walks every day in an area with lots of parks. The city provides stations where dog owners can get dog waste bags. Don walks two routes with his dog. One has a station with bags; the other does not. So what he does is collect an extra bag each day he passes the station to be prepared for the next day's walk, where there is no station. This action is reasonable and was not the reason the detective had shown up.

A Critical Mistake.

The day before the disturbing knock, Don was running errands. On his way back home, he decided to get some dog waste bags because he planned to try several new routes that did not have stations. He stopped, collected five bags, and headed home. (The dog waste bag station did not have a sign limiting the number of bags you can take, and Don pays thousands of dollars in city taxes.)

A prudent citizen, alert to the rising crime rate in our city, saw Don take the bags and, in a Kantian fit of moral self-righteousness, reported the immorality to the city police, complete with a license plate number and the number of bags Don had stolen. Specifically, he called the police and reported that there had been a major theft.

The Eight Cent Theft.

As Don was describing the actions of this judicious citizen, as a businessperson, I could not help but wonder how much five doggy bags cost. When I got home, I checked online, and my best estimate is that the city pays a little over a penny for each bag since it buys them en masse. At most, the five bags were worth eight cents.

Controlling Crime.

The city police decided to dispatch the detective who had interviewed the snitch. The detective showed up at Don's door to expand his investigation.

Don, totally flummoxed, asked why the detective was there. The detective explained and asked if Don had a dog. As fate would have it, Don's dog came bounding to the front door and proceeded to lick the detective's hand. The detective said, "I see you have a dog, so I do not think there is any reason for further investigation." This seemed incredibly insightful, but it strikes me as a scene from a Monty Python movie.

Some Observations.

This account is pretty straightforward. But there are several things that bother me about Don's interaction with the police. First, how could someone be so uptight that they would get someone's license plate designation and the number of dog bags they took and report it to the police? I cannot help but wonder what this person does in their spare time other than watch for major crimes. Whoever made the complaint makes Inspector Javert, who chased Jean Valjean in Victor Hugo's "Les Misérables," look like a really nice person.

Second, why would the police have to use a detective's time to pursue the perpetrator of an eight-cent theft? If the police have that much excess personnel power, perhaps the force is overstaffed, and the city needs to lower its tax rate and cut the police budget.

Finally, what type of system do the police have if it filters in petty crimes while major crimes are occurring in our city every day, i.e., drug deals, murders, and burglaries, not to mention the serious homeless problem? It seems that the police's case assignment system is impractical at best and totally flawed at worst. This is really an example of poor management.

The Judge.

Don later told me he had told his story to a retired circuit judge in his neighborhood. The judge had presided over numerous serious criminal cases. While I was puzzled by the snitch's report and the police response, the judge was irate. He was angry that an educated and well-trained detective had been used to chase down Don. He opined that major crimes required a well trained detective, not the theft of dog bags.

I really enjoy a good story, especially one that is humorous. While this story about a societal snitch may seem funny at first reading, I am not sure it is. It may be indicative of what our society has become. We are all about what bothers us.

Picture by Shutterstock.

If you haven't read the initial blog describing the "However View," click here.