There's the Andy Griffith version of police work (and a hell of a lot of Barney Fyfes) and there's the grit of reality. I grew up in the former - and REALLY grew up in the latter. The day law went in search of conviction at the expense of justice was the day it all changed. I might have slept through it. I still don't know when it happened - but I've seen it happen in my lifetime.
Cop was a calling to Uncle Mike. I saw that change the day after they had to break up protesters somewhere in Toronto. They weren't enemies. They were kids Uncle Mike might have taken by the shoulders and dug with his eyes. The order said set an example. That evening, I caught Uncle Mike crying because he did. The Job was never the same for him after.
For ten years, my son was a cop in Toronto. As a Cadet, he was posted to City Hall - policing the welfare line. My son was never a bully. He told me his gut churned when the boss encouraged belligerent attitudes - "...to discourage the rif-raff..." I suppose he was just following orders.
In those ten years, he was approached, twice, to testify on behalf of some cop he'd never met, much less know what he'd done. Twice, he denied the Church. As he explained to me when he left his gal and daughter behind so he could accept a post in Edmonton: His time with that ... GANG ... was about over.
Just over six months into a nice assignment in Edmonton, he was asked to testify that "on ....".
How would Norman Rockwell paint it?