Good morning - Bore da

Delegates, I make no apology for the sombre start to the day.

I wish people like Michelle Websdale didn’t have to tell their story. I wish people like Spencer Wragg didn’t have to lobby forces to do the right thing on prevention. I wish people like Richie Murray and Paul Williams didn’t have to work so hard to compile accurate data and demonstrate what policing needs to do.

I wish Brian Booth didn’t have to speak to MPs and Peers about the tragedy right in front of us that nobody knows about.

I wish our branch reps didn’t have to deal with the aftermath of suicide within force.

But they do.

We talk about the job getting more dangerous on our streets.

It’s even more dangerous in our heads.

Every case is a tragedy. Every case sends a jolt right through the force.

We’ve had too many funerals. Too many wakes. Too many anniversaries.

Conference. It’s got to stop.

We know what needs to change.

First, admit there’s problem. Forces need to record suicide and attempted suicide. And if they won’t, the law needs to change to make them. Police officer suicide needs to be reportable under RIDDOR so it’s properly investigated. And if the Health and Safety Executive disagrees, let’s force a change in how they work.

Second, invest in prevention and don’t wait for a tragedy to act. There is no excuse for any force not to bring in the STEP programme. Especially when so many of the tools are free or easy to adopt. It should not take an officer dying by suicide to make change happen.

And third, the link between the police misconduct regime and suicide needs to be acknowledged, accepted and then broken for good.

Conference, of the 56 police officers we’ve lost to suicide between 2022 and 2024 and 120 attempted suicides, 71 of them were under criminal or misconduct investigations at time.

That’s not a statistical fluke. It’s not an irregularity. It’s a tragic trend.

It’s a function of the race of who can sound the toughest on misconduct.

And in that race what gets left behind? The duty of care owed to you.

Risk assessments. Proper welfare checks. Compassion and the professional respect to treat people with dignity.

The misconduct regime has to exist to get rid of people not fit to wear the uniform. It must be rigorous, to protect us and to protect the public.

But it should not take the Federation to be the conscience of policing and ask “why are so many people involved in these processes dying?”.

We have been clear what’s needed on this. Despite our work. Despite advocacy from Oscar Kilo and other wellbeing organisations. Despite The Samaritans support. The progress has been too slow.

So, it’s time to do something different.

To leave no stone unturned. To examine the data. To hold leaders to account.

And to prevent any more deaths. Because one more is too many.

And we’re not waiting for the law to change or for someone to grow a conscience: we’re pushing politicians to change it. Following a series of meetings with Lords, our amendment to the Policing and Crime Bill, making it the law to report suicide and attempted suicide, has been tabled by Lord Bailey of Paddington. It is supported by Peers from all parties and will be debated in Parliament early in the new year.

Conference, that’s the sort of leadership I believe in. One that delivers for you.

I was beyond proud to be elected your National Chair this summer. I have the privilege of going round the country, meeting our reps who give so much of their time, energy and expertise to supporting members. And meeting so many of our members, whose dedication and experience in policing requires our help like never before.

I want to talk about how we move forward together. How we lead together. Because it’s time for change.

You’ll see no better example of that than conference this year. There’s no Home Secretary this year.

Every conference I can remember the Home Secretary has pitched up. Mostly they give a speech full of platitudes. Some pats on the back. Sometimes it’s a blunt challenge. Once it was a flat-out accusation.

And in response we’ve treated the Home Sec’s appearance here as a vent to let off some steam. On our best behaviour they’d be heard with muted grumbles. On others we’d really let them know how we felt.

Lots of sound. Lots of fury.

But what did it actually achieve? It might have made us feel better for a bit. But it didn’t build influence.

It didn’t stop the systematic destruction of the service we’ve been proud to represent.

It didn’t show us as essential to the reform that would so desperately benefit the members we work for. They gave the speech, took the heat, shut the door and walked away like nothing had happened.

And I truly believe our culture was a part of that approach. We liked throwing stones from the outside because our structure and processes meant we couldn’t get it together enough to build a platform from the inside.

Conference, you can’t fix a broken record by playing it louder.

Our approach will be honest and open with government and chiefs. You better believe we’ll call out the bad.

We’ll point out the irony of police leaders and politicians who’ve spent a decade denying the storm and now sell umbrellas like they saw it coming.

We’ll demand reform or abolition to an IOPC regime that can, without impunity, hang a cloud of suspicion over officers for years before coming to a determination.

We’ll be clear that police deserve better protection from those who seek to cause us injury as well as those numpties who stick a camera in our face to incite a response.

And we’ll be determined and defiant when our Copped Enough campaign calls for pay restoration, the industrial rights we deserve and dignity and fairness in modern workplaces.

But we need to do more than that. We need to influence on change.

We want to restore policing as a career that gives the people brave, skilled and responsible enough to do it a good life. We want to lead a new workplace culture that is positive, inclusive and supportive of being a good family member as well as a good copper. A service that rewards your service in it.

Many of my predecessors have stood on this platform and made the argument that morale is through the floor, demand is through the roof and we’re no longer protecting the people who protect the public.

They were right. Policing is broken, that’s true.

Those really bad days when I started my career. They are every shift now. We’re haemorrhaging experience, we’re beaten up physically and metaphorically. We’re the punching bag society and social media reaches for.

Late finishes, missing breaks, decisions made by algorithms rather than common sense. I get it. It wears you down. Policing can’t just stick a meditation app on the intranet and say “we’ve taken care of our people”.

We’ve got to fix the day job. That means proper staffing, realistic workloads, and leadership that asks “What are you facing?” instead of “How are you feeling?”. And then does something about it.

But conference, being right isn’t enough. Because that anger is forged in experience, we must use that collective experience of everyday policing to set out the changes we need to see.

Because if not us, who? The track record on police reform isn’t exactly a Grammy winner.

Police reform’s been stop and start, with a heavy bias towards stop. Or a change of government, Prime Minister or Home Secretary and we are back to the drawing board again.

So, in that vacuum come the mad little ideas. Let’s have fewer forces because bigger and more remote is always better. “Let’s have an algorithm decide where the crime will be,”. Well, it turns out it was always in the same underfunded postcode, policed by the same exhausted officers. Who knew?

And you can guarantee someone will always pipe up with “AI” or “procurement”, after which everyone nods sagely and proceeds to do the square root of nothing.

And what’s the reality out there? Conference, we can’t even get uniform right. We’re pouring more bodies into a leaky bucket. We’re breaking proud and brave people. But pride doesn’t pay for petrol in your car. And bravery doesn’t make the bills disappear.

The world we signed up to five, ten, twenty years ago isn’t the world we’re operating in now. The budgets are tighter, the workloads are heavier. And the political and public rhetoric is angrier.

And while everyone else writes about “new ways of working,” the real question is: who’s doing the working? Who’s there, on the beat? Who’s at the scene? Who’s in the middle of investigations.

Who’s answering the call when things go sideways? That’s the frontline. That’s you. And you deserve more than lip service.

For too many of our members it feels like we’re trapped in policing’s own Somme. The people in the trenches taking the hits, while the generals study the maps and wonder why morale is low before simply doing more of the same.

Conference, I can understand cynicism and disengagement as a reaction to that sorry state of affairs. But it won’t change them. It’s time to change that record.

Police reform cannot happen without sustained investment, but it will not happen without you. We’ve got what the chiefs and the mandarins haven’t: the recent lived experience of what policing is like on the streets, in the homes where violence pervades, online where threats multiply exponentially.

We can taste the blood in our mouths after the assault. We know what it’s like to grade images of child sexual abuse and then go home and play with the kids like nothing’s the matter with the world. We know the frustration of another botched IT rollout. We feel the inauthenticity of another “we really care, honest” initiative.

We experience leadership in all its forms: who better than you to comment on what needs to change?

So, we will need to be the force for that change.

We get tarred as being cynical. But the cynics are the politicians and media using policing and police as a football to kick around because it suits their particular agenda.

We’re not the ones saying record numbers of resignations aren’t a problem because we can just lower the bar for recruitment until any Herbert can walk through the door.

We’re not the ones using misconduct or vetting as a trojan horse to get rid of anyone whose face doesn’t fit.

We’re not the ones telling constables a pay deal barely scraping the cost of living increase is what they – and I quote –  “deserve”. And let’s remember they recommended less than that!

And we’re not the ones targeting officers on restricted or adjusted duties because in that cynical world it’s the path of least resistance.

Conference, in spite of all this, I am hugely positive about policing and about its future. I still believe in what this job can be. Not the headlines, not the bureaucracy, not the nonsense. But the real, human work that happens in every street, every shift, every station.

That belief isn’t blind optimism. It’s built on experience. The experience of thousands of officers who still turn up, step forward, and make a difference every single day.

If police reform is consistent and listens to those officers, truly listens, there’s every reason to be hopeful. Because no one understands what needs fixing better than the people doing the job. They know what works, what doesn’t, and what would make the biggest difference to public safety and those whose bravery builds it.

When reform starts from the ground up, not the top down, we get more than policy papers and press releases. We get progress that lasts.

And I know what some people will say. It’s too late. That it’s not like it used to be. You’ve all heard it: the Juliet Foxtrot mentality. The Job’s… well, you know the rest.

But it’s not. What’s broken is morale. What’s broken is trust. What’s missing is leadership that listens and pay that respects the people who keep showing up anyway. The job itself, the purpose, the people who’ve got your back, the moments that still make your heart race. The laughs you have with the people who’ve got your back. That’s still there. It’s still worth fighting for.

So no, the job’s not done. It’s waiting to be rebuilt by people who still believe in what policing can be, and who refuse to give up on it.

We are realistic about policing but we are positive. Because we’ve seen and felt what policing looks like at its best. And we know that, with the right voices finally heard, it can be that way far more often.

But with that positivity comes honesty. Because the truth is simple: the people who want bad cops gone the most are the good cops who have to serve next to them. They’re the ones whose hard work is overshadowed, whose integrity is questioned, and whose pride in the job takes the hit.

There is no organisation out there more proud of policing than us, so there should be no organisation so fiercely committed to making it better.

Doing this means we don’t shy away from misconduct. We confront the issues that make our workplace a bad place for too many colleagues.

We face it, we fix it, and we make sure it never defines us. Because the story of policing isn’t written by its worst moments. It’s written by the people who refuse to let those moments win rather than stand idly by.

That’s why I think it’s right to condemn incontrovertible evidence of bad behaviour. Not because it makes a good headline but because it demonstrates to people having to serve in those conditions that we hear them and we won’t stand for it.

From custody suites to community beats, we won’t stand for it. Where decent, dedicated officers are made to feel alienated for doing the right thing, we won’t stand for it. Where the loudest voices drown out the bravest ones, we won’t stand for it.

Where silence is being a mate and integrity is being a rat. We won’t stand for it.

Because the culture we want in policing isn’t complicated. It’s one where respect runs both ways. Where people can call out what’s wrong without fear and be backed when they do. Where leadership means listening as much as it means directing.

That’s how you rebuild pride. Through leaders who earn trust, not demand it. Through colleagues who look out for each other, not look the other way.

Ours is a service about service. It’s about the people who keep turning up. The ones who still believe in duty, even when the system feels like it’s given up on them.

It’s about saying enough. Enough of being taken for granted, enough of being told “that’s just how it is.” Because it doesn’t have to be this way.

Conference, we will speak with clarity, with courage and with conviction.

We will fight without fear or favour for pay that respects, investment that supports you, workplaces that protect you, and a culture that restores pride to policing.

We’ll tell the truth, even when it’s uncomfortable. We’ll challenge power, even when it’s unpopular. And we’ll never stop believing that this job — THE job — is worth fighting for.

Because policing is still full of good people doing extraordinary work in extraordinary times.
The job isn’t broken.

The system is. Its people are.

Let’s begin the work together to fix it.