Why Do Some Protests Turn Violent? Institutional Betrayal
George Floyd should be alive. So should Breonna Taylor, Eric Garner, Sandra Bland, Philando Castile and so many others. Devastatingly, there are too many to name.
People are protesting not because George Floyd is dead, or even because he was murdered, but because he died at the hands of the police. He was treated in a way that simply does not happen to white people.
Police are supposed to “serve and protect.” Police are supposed to treat all members of the public equally, based on the law, not use their power to create and enforce racism. Police are supposed to understand excessive force and know how to avoid it.
Instead, we get institutional betrayal.
Institutional betrayal is a trauma that occurs when systems — and the people who represent them — either create harms or exacerbate other harms. As a psychologist who studies violence, I am often asked what causes some protests to turn violent. Institutional betrayal is the answer, often layers and layers of institutional betrayal. Research has shown that institutional betrayal affects victims of sexual assault and domestic violence, when institutions such as universities, hospitals, and law enforcement fail to support victims, in express contradiction to their stated values and policies. The callous and dismissive responses to sexual assault victims can be so traumatizing that they are sometimes called “the second rape.”
There are other types of institutional betrayal too, such as when children are abused in foster care. Child protective services are charged with protecting children (hence the name), yet they often inadequately screen and monitor families, causing children to experience even more abuse.
In all these cases, systems that are supposed to support public well-being instead become a source of trauma. Why? As the saying goes, “All systems are perfectly designed to get the results they get.” They protect the powerful and maintain the status quo.
Institutional betrayal is a relatively new construct, but it is a powerful, much-needed concept that can advance our understanding of collective responses to state-perpetrated racism.
How Can We Prevent Institutional Betrayal?
Collective action can move the needle — as in the #metoo movement and its recent success in finally getting some powerful perpetrators to pay for their crimes and reforming workplaces.
Collective action is one of the few responses available to people who experience institutional betrayal, because few individuals are a match for the enormity of any system. If the response to collective action is further institutional betrayal, then rioting and violence can result. Although media coverage of violent resistance is often negative, violent resistance has long had a role in social change that eventually improves lives for the better. In the United States, this goes back at least to the Boston Tea Party — an incident glorified by mainstream white culture.
I’ve been asked about other factors that contribute to the psychology of riots, and as with any complex phenomenon, there are probably multiple factors involved. For example, the high unemployment rate and the extraordinary stress already inflicted by the pandemic have probably played a role in the current demonstrations. However, even these factors have elements of institutional betrayal, as seen in the hypocrisy revealed in the contrast between the calm response to heavily armed, mostly white protesters unhappy about lockdown restrictions — restrictions made in the name of public health to actually protect the public — versus the aggressive responses to protests about police brutality. This contrast, over just a few weeks, seems practically designed to offer proof of the racism inherent in the police response. Still, these other stresses would not matter without the instigating institutional betrayal.
The solution to institutional betrayal is for systems — and their powerful representatives — to finally acknowledge and respond to the betrayal. When this happens, collective action often remains peaceful and healing of the collective trauma begins. The worst response is when the system responds by perpetrating new abuses.
In some places, you can see the beginnings of the healing process unfold in real time. Every police department in the United States has a chance to rise to this occasion — to acknowledge the legitimacy of these grievances instead of creating new ones. A few have. In Camden, a police captain asked a crowd what they wanted, and when they chanted “Walk with us,” he did. The sheriff in Flint, Michigan took off his helmet and laid down his baton. Other police have taken a knee in support. They communicated that they understood that people have a right to protest and that their cause is legitimate. These actions have all promoted peace.
Unfortunately, too many police officers and even whole departments are aggravating the situation by perpetrating new abuses. They are arresting journalists who are wearing identification badges and carrying huge camera equipment. They are shooting journalists in the face with rubber bullets. They are spraying mace into little girl’s faces. They are responding with coercion, such as curfews. These unjust reactions to protests only add layers of betrayal trauma, and create reasons for further collective action. Police brutality cannot be solved with more police brutality.
Institutional betrayal calls for systemic solutions. Clearly, sensitivity training is not helping. We need to demilitarize the police, reform the cash bail system, and legalize or at least decriminalize marijuana and other minor offenses. We need to stop the death penalty. As a society, we have proven ourselves incapable of administering any of these laws and regulations in a non-racist way. Police can’t even monitor the wearing of face masks without racism. Congressman Haaland has proposed a Truth, Racial Healing, and Transformation (TRHT) Commission. These can be powerful forces for change.
“No justice, no peace” is not just a slogan, it is a timeless psychological truth.
Sherry Hamby, Ph.D. is a Research Professor of Psychology at the University of the South and Director of the Life Paths Research Center. She has over 20 years of experience researching trauma.
