Part 2 of a 2-part series
Read Part I: Undercover operations, Part I: Planning, training and deployment
Part I discussed planning, training, and deployment of undercover operations. Here, we will discuss termination, reintegration and post-deployment syndromes.
The termination, or “closedown,” phase of an undercover operation is the formal end of the undercover part of the mission. Less glamorous, but equally important, is the phase that follows termination, in which the undercover team organizes their evidence and prepares for trial. Most termination stress reactions represent normal responses to highly unusual circumstances. Accordingly, the psychological strategies used to deal with these problems should reflect a wellness-based orientation of returning otherwise high-functioning personnel to their usual state of health and efficiency, as well as beginning the phase of reintegration into normal law-enforcement work – sometimes called “re-bluing” the officer.
Some departments build a post-assignment psychological assessment and psychological debriefing phase into their termination protocol, as a component separate from the more usual operational debriefing. As with psychological debriefings in general the purpose is to destigmatize the process, so that no UCO feels singled out for special treatment, and to make the process as palatable as possible.
There are three basic reasons why an undercover operation is terminated. First, the mission has been successful, the evidence needed has been gathered, and arrests have been made or sufficient intelligence has been obtained for the next phase of law enforcement action. Second, after sufficient expenditure of time and resources, it becomes clear that the goals and purposes of the operation cannot be accomplished within the scope of the undercover plan, and the operation is unceremoniously closed down. Third, the operation may have to be terminated because cover is blown or the security of the UCO or others is compromised.
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Often, results are mixed: some useful evidence is gathered, some targets are apprehended, but all or most of the mission’s objectives may not have been realized. Many undercover operations have no clear end point — the basic strategy is to keep the operation going as long as useful evidence and intelligence continue to be gathered. The problem here is that, where a case seems to be going well, the motivation is to keep the UCO in the field as long as possible, despite signs of fatigue and possible psychological deterioration which, paradoxically, might compromise the UCO’s effectiveness in playing his role and in collecting further useful evidence and intelligence. An added problem is that police actions taken while the UCO was in a “mentally impaired” state might later be challenged by clever defense counsel.
Psychological Reactions of UCOs to Undercover Termination
As noted earlier, the undercover role allows the UCO a certain degree of freedom and autonomy of action and the return to routine police work can be quite a letdown, especially if the transition is abrupt. Former UCOs frequently complain of feeling micromanaged and “babied” by their current routine police duties and of not receiving proper respect and appreciation for their special role and efforts. A vicious cycle may ensue, as the entitled attitudes of these departmental prima donnas come to be resented by the rank and file, whose expressions of contempt or ridicule are taken by the former UCOs as even greater evidence of their own specialness which, in turn, the other officers are seen as tacitly conceding by their expressions of petty jealousy.
The freedom and independence of action afforded by the undercover role, combined with a narcissistically-tinged sense of personal mission, can in some cases lead to the development of a savior complex, in which the UCO comes to see himself as the lone true bastion of justice battling the forces of lawlessness and corruption. Such officers may become cynical, angry, and resentful of authority. Some of this intense frustration may have a basis in reality if such agents have previously seen months of arduous and dangerous undercover work come to naught because of administrative or prosecutorial screw-ups or unfair plea deals.
Rather than being able to invoke mature professional detachment and see such happenings as a necessary, if odious, part of their job (“You do the best you can, then you let the system work, and you win some and you lose some”), more narcissistically tunnel-vision UCOs may take such events personally, and come to believe that the directives and restrictions of their commanding officers unnecessarily impede them from their clear and noble pursuit of justice, an attitude approaching the Hollywood lone-hero model. In the real law enforcement world, signs of such iconoclastic UCO behavior have to be dealt with immediately and forthrightly.
Of course, the worst-case scenario from a mission point of view is where cover is blown, officers or innocent civilians are harmed, and targets get away. Barring actual death or physical injury to an UCO, the psychological injury to his or her ego can be almost as painful, especially where the officer’s own actions may have contributed to mission failure. When the fault lies with others, this reaction may be suffused with anger, as the officer sees “his” operation screwed up by incompetent others. Successful re-entry into normal life and work may be further impeded where betrayed criminals or their henchmen make persistent threats against the officer or his family. The continual vigilance required in such circumstances may mean that the officer can never really “come down” from the assignment. Even where physical danger is not a factor, the blown cover may mean that the officer’s effectiveness as an UCO is over, at least for that locality.
Even with successful missions, following the euphoria and mutual congratulations of a job well done, there is likely to be a certain degree of emotional let-down, a kind of “post-partum depression” that follows the completion of an undercover assignment. In many operations, success may have been mixed, with some undercover objectives being accomplished, while others were not. As noted earlier, many undercover operations have no clear endpoint, but rather cycle into new phases as more information is gathered; in such cases, there may not be any distinct closure point. In most cases, officers whose identities are more strongly tied into the flash and glory of being an UCO, or who have had conflicts with other team members during the operation, are more likely to experience a letdown at the completion of the assignment.
Most studies of undercover post-deployment reactions find a high rate of initial psychological distress, but with relatively rapid recovery, few officers showing any significant lingering effects after about six months. Whatever else undercover work may be, it apparently doesn’t provide much of a physical workout: on completion, all the agents in one study embarked on exercise and dietary regimens to shed the pounds they had gained during the sedentary activity necessitated by the undercover role.
Dealing with the Failed Mission
Failure may not be an option, but it sometimes has a nasty habit of happening anyway. Most officers recognize that success or failure of an undercover operation is the consequence of many factors, some of which are beyond the control of the undercover team and the law enforcement agency. A successful or unsuccessful undercover operation is a team effort, and although most UCOs pay lip service to the idea that the UCOs cannot be held individually accountable for the final outcome, no officer can avoid feeling the disappointment and anger of a blown mission; indeed, the pain of such a failure is matched only by the recriminations observed after a failed hostage negotiation. The difference is, however, that while a hostage crisis typically evolves over hours or days, undercover operations may span months or years, heightening the sense of having “blown it big time” when something goes wrong.
Operations rarely go exactly by the book, and mission objectives, goals, and protocols may be changed midstream in response to new incoming intelligence and feasibility assessments. Indeed, as noted earlier, a certain flexibility should be built into the assignment to account for such unexpected turns in the road. However, when an unproductive operation is terminated or unforeseen dangers crop up and fold the mission, there is a tendency to seek someone to blame for the failure, either others who have messed up or, just as commonly, oneself for overlooking some sign or clue that could have staved off disaster.
Moreover, there may be anger and recrimination where personnel believe that others’ screw-ups have marred their own good efforts. A vicious cycle often ensues, wherein the self-flagellating officer, unable to bear his own corrosive guilt, projects it onto others who then understandably resent being fingered as the scapegoats by the first officer: “Hey, don’t put your shit on me, man. I’m not the one who knocked that door down before the signal.”
The more the team psychologist, with appropriate departmental support, can help the UCO come to grips with his own feelings and actions around the event, the less his guilt-turned-to-rage will have a chance to jeopardize his relationships with family, friends, and colleagues.
For such failed missions, psychologist Neil Hibler recommends encouraging disappointed personnel to see their jobs as akin to firefighters who are paid to be ready and able to do their best job when called, but have no guarantee that things will turn out the way they expect. A floor may collapse, a cache of unknown stored chemicals may explode, someone may have negligently locked a fire escape door, and so on. Similarly, in Dr. A.D. MacLeod’s program, all UCOs are considered successful at termination and officers are encouraged to reframe failure in terms of survival and sensible self-preservation by emphasizing that safety is priority one, and the success of the mission, while important, is secondary to the officers’ well-being.
But while some version of this pep talk may sound logical and supportive, the reality is that it’s rarely enough to mitigate the self-reproach these professionals feel when they believe that they’ve let others down. Realistically, in my experience, some emergency service personnel will accept some sort of face-saving cognitive reframe and others won’t and, for adequate resolution of these issues, additional administrative and/or psychological follow-up may be necessary to examine any personal problems and reactions that might be complicating the officer’s coping and adaptive processes before they fester into disciplinary problems and burnout.
Reintegration Syndromes
Several authorities have described a number of maladaptive responses by UCOs to the reintegration process. In the medalist syndrome, UCOs who have been the “stars” of important, high-level operations may go well beyond justifiable pride in a job well done and develop an attitude of inflated self-importance and entitlement that persists in their post-deployment interactions with others in the department. Not surprisingly, this typically engenders a range of reactions in others, from bemusement to resentment. For other officers, especially where the operation has had “loose ends,” suspects have escaped, cover has been wholly or partially blown, or threats have been made against the UCO and his family, the officer may become hypervigilant and suspicious for quite some time following the undercover assignment. Depending on the nature and seriousness of the perceived danger, this continuing heightened state of red alert may prove draining and debilitating to the officer’s mental and physical health, and may affect his job functioning and family life.
Role generalization occurs when the officer stays in character long after the undercover operation is over, preserving the language, form of dress, and general attitude of the undercover role. Of course, as noted earlier, to the extent that part of the selection process for UCOs may involve demographic similarities to the subculture they are to infiltrate, continuation of the undercover role may simply be a continuation of that officer’s general lifestyle. However, it may be apparent to colleagues that the officer is “just too into it.”
One variety of role generalization has been called the rhetorical drama or Miami Vice syndrome. Coworkers may chuckle that the UCO still seems to be living in “TV-land.” There may be a histrionic, attention-seeking quality to this officer’s strutting and prancing around the department, unintentionally doing his best parody of the Hollywood secret agent. Other than tooting one’s own horn and being a royal pain in the ass, this type of harmless self-aggrandizement is usually tolerated with large doses of either direct or covert ridicule.
The so-called primate syndrome represents a more malignant character distortion most commonly seen in UCOs who infiltrate outlaw motorcycle gangs, drug subcultures, sex-trade cartels, or similarly scuzzy venues, in which officers may have been forced to witness or even participate in acts of violence or other sordid conduct. Immersion in this environment may then “rub off” on the officer and persist in the form of garish dress and grooming, foul language, and thuggish behavior when the officer returns to the department, causing him to be generally regarded as an all-purpose asshole by his disenchanted peers. In other cases, the officer may hold it together while at work, only to come home and inflict this Neanderthal behavior on his family.
But in most cases, even the obnoxious primate recognizes the line between acting like a criminal lowlife and actually being one. Although rare, some UCOs – especially during prolonged assignments – may have developed an all-to-close relationship with their targets and developed a Stockholm-like sympathy/identification with the criminal target and subculture. These relationships may be personal, i.e. actually coming to appreciate the target’s perspectives and values and growing to like the target as a person; this reaction may be more common in the case of ideological targets (“he’s only bombing government buildings to try and free his oppressed people”) than frankly criminal ones. Or the relationship may be strictly utilitarian: it dawns on the officer that he can make a hell of lot more money switching sides or playing double agent than fulfilling his professional law enforcement oath of honor. Sometimes, the officer just gets used to the rush of excitement associated with living outside the rules of society. Often, there is a combination of motives.
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In the worst case, prolonged undercover work can lead to a wholesale corrosion of the law enforcement value system for that officer. More commonly, in less severe cases of immersion in and identification with the criminal subculture, the officer’s previous notions of right and wrong – us versus them – may be muddied and make it hard to pursue his policing duties with full commitment and enthusiasm. This may render him more susceptible to corruption down the road, or the conflict may impel him to leave his law enforcement career. In other cases, officers may use the defense mechanism of reaction formation to smother their doubts and become hyper-aggressive crusaders for justice, ruthlessly cracking down on the criminals in their jurisdiction to prove to themselves that the law is always right. Paradoxically, these officers may violate their own moral and professional codes when they feel compelled to go outside that very law in order to uphold a higher sense of justice.
Reintegrating the UCO into Regular Police Work
Aristotle said that a virtue is the midpoint between two vices, and a few law enforcement supervisors have commented that you only find out about an UCO’s true nature after the assignment ends. As noted earlier, the self-sufficient, tough-minded, stimulation-seeking personality style of many UCOs is often the very asset that makes them so effective in this kind of work. However, such virtues may quickly sour into vices when the officer must return to “ordinary” police work which he may regard as boring and beneath him.
At first, the returning UCO may be quite engaging and entertaining as he regales his colleagues with adventures of danger and intrigue, because the cop was never born who didn’t like a good story. But this soon wears thin, as his colleagues begin to wonder when he’ll finally “get over himself.” Therefore, part of the psychological decompression process must involve revalidating the officer’s non-undercover personality by a gradual transition into regular work and life roles. It would be just as big a mistake to take an UCO fresh from his assignment and abruptly plop him down at a desk or in a patrol car, as it would to place him immediately into another undercover assignment without a break.
A certain period of guided role-realignment is therefore necessary to ensure both the stability of the officer’s mental state and the success of future undercover missions. A crucial part of this process involves allaying the UCO’s fear that returning to a normal, “ordinary” identity will result in the collapse and disintegration of his tough-guy persona, with a resultant exposure of weakness. As in psychological counseling with law enforcement officers generally, the emphasis should always be on the process of building up, not breaking down. In this model, I offer the following recommendations for law enforcement administrators in reintegrating the UCO’s identity and activity back to regular police work.
First, as noted above, make the transition gradual. Remember that, even after the operation itself is long over, the UCO may still be involved in processing evidence, testifying at trial, and so on. During this follow-up period, time permitting, it may be useful to have him begin to perform some of his regular police duties. As the undercover case winds down, he will spend less and less time on it, and more and more time on his new roles and responsibilities.
Second, allow the returned UCO to keep his hand in his craft by encouraging him to stay involved in training, supervising, and planning for subsequent operations. This way, his healthy narcissism is channeled into work that is productive and directly related to his area of expertise: even if he’s not out in the field, he is a vital part of the entire undercover law enforcement enterprise by imparting his wisdom to others. Training also provides a legitimate outlet for his “war stories” because, in this context, these exploits now become case examples instead of merely self-aggrandizing windbagging.
Some officers are less ego-driven per se, but what they miss most about the undercover life is the sheer thrill of the experience. For such officers, the challenge is to find other police roles that offer a commensurate amount of stimulation. While, of course, not every law enforcement agency can accommodate every officer’s wishes and temperaments, offering a returning UCO a spot on the SWAT, hostage negotiation, or criminal investigation team – assuming they’ve otherwise earned it by their record and qualifications – can provide an alternative channel for their naturally high adrenalin and enthusiasm.
Dealing with the Undercover Stockholm Syndrome
Hostage negotiators know that hostages who spend long periods of time with their captors under conditions of life-threatening stress often form a seemingly paradoxical bond with, and allegiance to, their captors; this is especially likely where the hostage-takers and hostages come to be perceived as more human by one another. Indeed, it is typically the goal of hostage negotiators to foster this sort of reverse Stockholm syndrome in the hostage-takers in order to make it that much harder for them to inflict deliberate harm on their now-humanized captives.
It is thus a natural human reaction that spending any considerable time with others under crisis conditions and/or in collaboration on a common goal, even a criminal one, results in a Stockholm-type bond among those persons, even when the initial relationship may have been adversarial. It should therefore not be surprising that UCOs often come to feel some empathy with, and sympathy for, their targets. Remember that the essence of an undercover operation involves betrayal in its starkest form – the UCO deliberately sets the target up for a bust – and all except the coldest psychopath will necessarily feel some twinge of remorse at turning on those who have sincerely trusted us, whatever the ultimate justification. Even though the best UCOs can compartmentalize these feelings, sooner or later they may have to deal with this human reaction.
To compound matters, especially in successful missions, the UCO’s dealings with the targets are not likely to be over when the undercover part of the operation ends, because the officer may still have to face the target in court. For the practical purposes of giving credible testimony, administrators and counselors must ensure that the UCO is clear about the priorities and purposes of the mission, and that his testimony not be clouded by residual sympathies or hidden allegiances. This is not to encourage a callously hard-boiled approach to the target (which many UCOs adopt anyway as a cover attitude or defense against letting themselves “go soft”), but to reorient the officer to his proper law enforcement role in the legal proceedings.
If you’re the police psychologist, one way to do this is to simply encourage the officer to speak his mind on how he feels about the targets and the work he has done. At first, expect minimization or denial: everything’s cool, no problem. To get the officer talking, ask him what he thinks will happen to the targets; this often gets him to reveal some of the concerns he may have about burning someone who once trusted him. Follow this with a reality check. While no one can predict what the judge or jury will do, try to present a range of realistic options as to what might happen to the target and his family: jail time, witness protection program, and so on.
Emphasize that the feelings the officer may be having are not a sign of weakness or mental abnormality, but a natural human response. It may be useful to explicitly compare this to the Stockholm syndrome and reverse Stockholm syndrome that even experienced hostage negotiators experience after long hours speaking to a sympathetic hostage taker (see Hostage negotiations: Psychological strategies for resolving crises safely). Note that dealing with these human feelings productively is as much a part of professionalism as any other aspect of the operation – in fact the emotional side may be the toughest part of all. Emphasize that these remorseful feelings are what “good” people naturally experience when they have been called upon to do an ostensibly “bad” thing like betray confidences and friendships for the sake of a higher purpose. Remind the officer that nobody forced these targets to become criminals, and also remind him or her of the harm (drug addiction, sexual victimization, violence) that their criminal activities have caused and that the undercover mission was intended to stop. If realistic, reassure the officers that the uninvolved, innocent families of the targets will not unnecessarily suffer for the actions of their criminal parents or spouses.
Finally, in some cases, targets may be regarded not with sympathy, but quite the opposite, as miscreant scumbags with no redeeming human value, who deserve to be crushed like bugs. In such cases, reorientation to professionalism may have to take place in the other direction, encouraging the officers not to let their loathing for the subjects compromise their objectivity at trial or in subsequent investigations.
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