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| Kurt F. Suss |
These were pocketknives, folding blades sometimes referred to as jackknives. Most men carried a small pocketknife to perform various small tasks, such as carving a small stick, cleaning out a tobacco pipe or cutting tangled fishing lines. What really caught my attention was when grandpa took a fresh McIntosh apple from the tree, shined it on his pant leg and proceeded to the porch rocking chair. He took his wood-grain pocketknife from his pocket and ever so carefully cut off slices for us, sprinkling on a little salt. It tasted so good; I wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with the knife, but at the time, I sure thought it did. It was the way he did it — slow, precise, like a Swiss watchmaker. He would talk about something that I’m sure was important, but I only paid attention to the little knife and the succulent slices of fresh McIntosh.
There was something dangerous about these little knives because I wasn’t allowed to handle one or have my
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In all my young knife-carrying days, I never once considered it as a self-defence weapon. Even during a schoolyard fight, a knife would never be considered; that would be a sign of unfairness and weakness.
Times have changed.
Grandpa’s pocketknife has evolved into a quick-release pocket clip blade knife; the clip knife is extremely handy for a quick retrieval with the dominant hand from the belt line, rather than the pocket. Generally, it is spring-operated and can be used with one hand, ready for immediate action.
Why do most first responders carry the “quick clip knife” or “quick blades” that can be operated quickly with one hand for various rescue tasks? The dilemma is that many people carry the same knives as part of their everyday carry (EDC), just like sunglasses and cellphones. It’s quite common for people to carry such knives.
Are these knives dangerous? Of course not; no knife is dangerous unless it is handled improperly, unsafely or in a threatening manner. More importantly, the presence of a knife in the hands of a non-compliant or threatening individual could result in being shot by the police. You may be shot multiple times until you drop the knife, or when your lifeless, bullet-riddled body falls to the ground.
The 21-foot rule
Why would police need to shoot somebody with a knife? You would think there would be many other options readily available to stop a knife attack or what is perceived to be a possible attack?
The 21-foot rule began in 1982 with police trainer Dennis Tueller from the Salt Lake City Police Department testing the distance a knife-wielding attacker could stab or cut a police officer before the officer could shoot. It was consistently determined that at least 21 feet was needed for the officer to defend themselves. This resulted in a significant change in the application of defence law and the use of force training for police worldwide. Unfortunately, this led to the overall acceptance of police shootings of anyone threatening with a knife within this range.
Many situations can be effectively resolved without resorting to deadly force. The action/reaction gap refers to the time and distance required for a police officer to shoot the attacker and neutralize the threat. Over time, this evolved into the “myth of the 21-foot rule.” This “rule” became a case-by-case application, indicating that every situation is unique due to specifics related to both the attacker and the victim, including physical capabilities, mental status, environment, previous experiences and training. There is no doubt that this rule has been firmly established, with countless cases involving the deadly use of force and many training schools testing and implementing the 21-foot rule.
There has since been a reworking of this rule to incorporate many considerations. It now takes longer for a police officer to dislodge a weapon from a three-stage safety holster. Police officers have an exceedingly difficult job at times, and it seems as if everyone in certain urban areas is carrying knives for protection. As seriously deadly and swift as edged weapons can be, I am bewildered by the number of fatal police shootings, especially when the most violent offenders carrying knives in the most dangerous environments, such as corrections, penitentiaries and correctional centres, rarely, if ever, experience fatal shootings.
My introduction to the 21-foot rule
It was July 1991, a very hot day, working the “hole” (segregation) at one of Canada’s largest medium security prisons—a medium that housed many maximum security and mental health inmates. The range was quiet; even the heavy steel sliding doors glistened with droplets of sweat. The only air conditioning was an old window shaker in the guard’s office. It was after lunch, and we had to collect the food trays. The trays needed to be collected because they could be used to assault officers or be broken up, with the pieces sharpened to be used as knives.
My partner was attempting to get an inmate to pass the tray through the food slot. The inmate refused, so my partner opened the sliding door to retrieve the tray. He shouldn’t have opened the door without another officer present. The moment he opened the door, the inmate punched him square in the face. I witnessed this from the other end of the range and ran down to the cell. Without hesitation, I pushed my partner aside and entered the cell to secure the inmate.
I was a new guard, freshly academy-trained in all the moves and tactics of the time. In the melee, I forgot everything I had been taught and instinctively reverted to my amateur boxing days. I defended myself: hands up, elbows in, chin protected. The inmate backed against the wall and onto the steel cot attached to it. I backed out of the cell, hands still up and fists clenched at my chin. I took my eyes off him to check my footing; at that moment he sprang off the cot and swung a bladed object into my left rib cage. I connected with a spontaneous right cross that any boxing coach would be proud of and quickly shut the cell door.
As the years passed in my career as a correctional officer, I became increasingly aware of knives, shanks and shivs in my workplace. I joined our emergency response team (ERT), yet I still lacked knowledge of the 21-foot rule. It was a friend, a police officer with the Ontario Provincial Police, who introduced me to the 21-foot rule and provided me with a training video. I couldn’t believe we had never received training or knowledge regarding knife attacks and the 21-foot rule.
I guess I had always played down the idea of being attacked by an inmate with a prison knife.
Back in those days, we didn’t carry any weapons, handcuffs, pepper spray or stab vests, and we had access to nothing but our hands and conversation. A gun? No. If I’d had one, would I have shot the inmate that day? It’s hard to say; I suppose if I were trained under the 21-foot rule, probably yes.
The question remains quite relevant among legal professionals and law enforcement. Was lethal force necessary?
The myth of the 21-foot rule
There has been a significant amount written about the 21-foot rule in relation to police; numerous cases have involved the use of deadly force and edged weapons. Most would agree that the most dangerous environments for peace officers are within prisons, where they face the most violent individuals armed with some of the most dangerous weapons I’ve ever seen. To this day, Canadian prisons do not incorporate the 21-foot rule and only provide the basic elements of edged-weapon defence.
The prison is a place where it is assumed that anyone and everyone is carrying a knife or has easy access to one. So why isn’t the 21-foot rule a priority in Canadian prisons? For me, the reasons are clear: first, we don’t have access to lethal force when we are among inmates in the prison. Second, 21 feet simply isn’t an option or applicable for most situations in a prison. Most of the day is spent within arm’s length in typical prison scenarios. My situation was four feet; even if I had been armed with a firearm, there wouldn’t have been time to use it.
Conclusion
Today, the 21-foot rule has essentially evolved into a 27-foot rule, and it remains as ambiguous as it was in the 1980s. Furthermore, it is still not implemented in most prisons for training correctional officers.
Despite all the testing, case law and edged-weapon incidents involving police, questions remain: is lethal force necessary, and why is the 21-foot rule not acknowledged in most correctional facilities?
Kurt F. Suss is a corrections officer with Correctional Service of Canada and a retired dog handler and trainer consultant. He is the author of Dogman: The Trials and Tribulations. He is currently at work on his second book Why Dogs Bite. He can be reached at isiscanine@hotmail.com
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