No one is helped when police officers train for war

Why do police officers attend an annual extreme training exercise and weaponry expo that promotes the latest in military-like techniques and gear?

At a time when local law enforcement agencies should be connecting with the public they serve — and listening to people who feel distrust — they’re training police officers as if they were soldiers readying to fight an enemy on another continent.

The American public is not the enemy.

But every year, Urban Shield holds its annual war games-type gathering of law enforcement agencies in the East Bay. The four-day event includes tactical exercises for SWAT teams, bomb squads and emergency workers. There’s also a trade show to check out new tools, like rifle bullets that can penetrate plated steel.

The display of high-tech gadgets, spotting scopes, bomb suits and body armor highlights the root of the problem with policing many communities: They’ve lost touch with the people who live in them.

The militarization of police became a national topic of debate in 2014 when police officers in Ferguson, Mo., wore what looked like combat-style body armor and carried military-like weapons to confront protesters after an officer fatally shot an unarmed black teenager.

It’s no wonder: The push to bolster police is supported by the federal government. In the decade since 9/11, $34 billion in grants have been given to states to purchase military surplus equipment and fund programs like Urban Shield.

In the Bay Area, the Alameda County Sheriff’s Department coordinates Urban Shield, promoting things like the MRAP vehicle, for Mine-Resistant Assault Protected, designed to resist improvised explosive devices in Iraq and Afghanistan. MRAPs patrolled Oakland during the Occupy protests in 2012.

I honor the men and women in law enforcement who serve and protect citizens like myself, but I can’t stanch the concern I have about how Urban Shield might increase the unnecessary use of force. Playing war further desensitizes violence.

Urban Shield training is ostensibly for terrorism and prepared responses to extreme situations, such as one caused by a natural disaster. But in preparing to defend our home turf against terrorism, we’ve kicked down the door to allow a different kind of terror to enter our lives. We’ve become more suspicious of each other. We’re doing the demolition job for the terrorists.

Yet, Urban Shield promotes itself on its website as “intense training for intense times.”

Being alert doesn’t require the intensity that comes with locating an active shooter.

And to help communities navigate the aftershocks of a crisis, like the big earthquake we’re told is coming, local law enforcement officers will have to drop their weapons so they can roll up their sleeves to lend a hand. Traumatic experiences take interpersonal skills that can’t be learned by pointing a firearm at a target in an imaginary scenario.

Last week I went to a screening of the documentary film “Do Not Resist,” which has scenes from Ferguson that caused some in the audience to gasp.

What struck me most about the film wasn’t the lack of awareness or compassion some officers had when they held scared people at gunpoint, with their hands raised. It was conversations two different officers had with agitated protesters.

Those officers deescalated the situation by using a conflict resolution tool no federal grant is needed to pay for: their ears. They let the angry young men speak — and they appeared to listen.

If law enforcement invested in de-escalation and implicit bias training instead of militarization, maybe the conversation about what can be done to relieve the pressure of these intense times could begin.

Urban Shield is funded by the federal government, but the Alameda Board of Supervisors approves the use of those funds. It’s time for supervisors to give their stamp of disapproval.

Otis R. Taylor Jr. is a San Francisco Chronicle columnist whose column appears Tuesday and Friday. Email: otaylor@sfchronicle.com Twitter: @otisrtaylorjr