Before and After the Trigger Press that Killed Renee Good
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Since last Wednesday, both the general populace and policymakers have debated whether U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) Officer Jonathan Ross, who allegedly shot and killed Renee Nicole Good, properly applied the Department of Homeland Security’s deadly force policy. In the aftermath of the shooting, protests broke out not just in Minneapolis, where it occurred, but throughout the nation; those marching aver overly aggressive law enforcement officers outright murdered Good. Conversely, Vice President J.D. Vance alleged that Good was “part of a broader left-wing network to attack, to dox, to assault and to make it impossible for our ICE officers to do their job” and that she used the techniques of domestic terrorism to target federal officials; Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem vowed to send hundreds more of her employees to Minnesota to support her department’s ongoing operations there in the face of local resistance. Little agreement exists between the political poles on how to describe that fatal moment.
Whether Ross violated Homeland Security’s deadly force policies—and thus also potentially Good’s Fourth Amendment rights—is certainly one of the most important questions to arise out of her death. But amid the high passion and tumult of the debate, other, equally pressing issues remain largely unaddressed: Namely, what do the events which occurred immediately before Ross took the slack out of his trigger, and the response of him and his colleagues right after the final press, tell us about how ICE is conducting itself as it executes the largest apprehension and deportation operation in the history of the United States?
The answers are not comforting; they will provide little balm to anyone concerned with civil liberties, the lives of civilians, or the application of safe and proven law enforcement techniques (by which I mean ones that protect officers themselves from both adversarial danger and legal liability). Based on what has been publicly released, the whole interaction between Good, Ross, and the other ICE officials was a series of unforced errors by the government. The entire encounter, even accounting for Ross’s own footage, illustrates the general lack of professionalism with which ICE has operated over the past few months and its abandonment of its own internal policies.
This article will not wade into the debate over whether deadly force was justified at the exact moment Ross fired into the vehicle (that debate will largely focus on a narrow legal question—did he have a reasonable believe that Good would drive use her car as a weapon to hit him—in a manner that will frustrate many observers, and should rely on a much larger tranche of evidence than many observers realize). Because even if Ross’s deadly force was justified in the moment he fired his weapon, what much of the nation has now seen was not professionalized or situationally appropriate law enforcement. It was a series of incredibly bad choices leading to an unnecessary death. At every step which led to the fatal trigger press, ICE could have behaved differently. It could have behaved more tactically. It could have behaved more humanely. The nation—to say nothing of Renee Nicole Good’s family—deserves an honest accounting of why it did not.
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Why was ICE interacting with Good in the first place?
The question isn’t rhetorical. Video footage shows that she was clearly—at least for a few moments, if not longer—blocking traffic by positioning her car in the middle of the road; furthermore, she was doing so while in the presence of law enforcement vehicles with lights and sirens activated. Such behavior would appear to be a prima facie violation of Minnesota Statute 169.20 §5, a misdemeanor punishable by a $300 fine, and perhaps diversion to a remedial driving school. If a peace officer with the appropriate authority ordered her to move, and she chose not to comply, she also may have been violating Minnesota Statute 169.34 §1(11).
But much of the analysis actually hinges on the phrase “peace officer.” Not all law enforcement agencies are authorized to enforce all statutes; generally speaking, state and local departments enforce state and local laws, while federal officers and agents enforce federal laws and constitutional violations. States can provide exceptions to this general rule by enacting an enabling law granting federal officials the authority to enforce state laws, which confers peace officer status.
Minnesota defines a peace officer as “an employee of a political subdivision [i.e. a local municipality] or state law enforcement agency,” and only grants their federal counterparts arrest authorities for the purposes of state and local violations when a number of conditions are met. The most important of these prerequisites requires that the federal officer be on duty, acting at the request of a local or state officer, and operating pursuant to the supervision of that local or state officer. At this point, neither ICE management nor any executive branch officials have argued that these conditions were met; indeed, the tenor and tone of statements by the Minneapolis mayor and Minnesota governor would certainly suggest otherwise. The proper remedy, then, for Good’s obstruction of traffic would have simply been for the ICE officers to request that local police join in the response and facilitate the movement of her vehicle.
But let’s put this argument aside, for the moment.
Even if ICE had no authority to enforce state traffic regulations, it may argue that Good was violating 18 U.S.C. §111, which prohibits “assaulting, resisting, or impeding” federal law enforcement officials. But as the Justice Department itself maintains, that statute requires an element of force on the part of the offender, and also requires that the officer be engaged in the performance of official duties. With respect to the first part, it is difficult to see, in any of the videos released thus far, any moment at which Good deployed force against the officers. What she and others appear to have been doing is videotaping them, verbally sparring with them, and perhaps blowing whistles. But every federal appellate court which has addressed the issue recognizes a First Amendment right to film the police, regardless of whether one is a bystander or the actual criminal subject; ICE’s behavior with regard to this sort of activity in other jurisdictions, which is becoming increasingly frequent, clearly violates the Constitution. Even Ross’s own footage does not appear to demonstrate any behavior by Good at the outset of the interaction which violates a federal criminal law or would not be shielded by First Amendment protections.
But let’s put this argument aside for the moment as well.
Assume, just as a thought experiment, that ICE was properly enforcing either state traffic regulations or federal law, and the question still remains whether they acted in a manner that comports with their own internal policies. The agency’s Employee Code of Conduct §5.4 mandates that “ICE employees must be professional, polite, respectful, and patient in all official activities that involve contact with…members of the public, even in the face of considerable provocation.” It is difficult to understand how yelling at a woman to “get out of the fucking car” when she is not acting violent, or calling her a “fucking bitch,” after shooting at her three times, would comport with this rule. ICE’s own disciplinary guidance mandates suspensions for “using rude, impolite, discourteous, unprofessional, obscene…or similarly inappropriate language, gestures, or conduct…to members of the public.” Making improper comments during operations is similarly prohibited and punishable under the guidance. It might be a small violation, not particularly important for the larger issues at play here, but it is a data point, nonetheless.
But let’s put aside this argument, too, for the moment.
Assume, just as a thought experiment, that ICE was properly enforcing either state traffic regulations or federal law and operating pursuant to its own professional guidelines. The question still remains whether they appropriately de-escalated the situation before resorting to force. ICE Acting Director Todd Lyons himself recently noted, in an Associated Press feature, that “[i]n any type of law enforcement situation you’d rather de-escalate with words before you have to use any use of force.” The agency’s head firearms instructor promised that “[w]e do our very best to make sure that even though they’re in that [dangerous] environment, that they have the wherewithal to make the proper decision. Nobody wants to be the one to make a bad shot…” But none of the footage thus far released, by bystanders or the agency, reveals any moment in which any of the officers tried to defuse the situation without violence. Ross spent an inordinate amount of time videotaping his interaction with Good on his cellphone, and at no point in his own recording does he attempt to calm the situation or even betray any sense of his own self-possession. The officers who come to assist him do not interact with Good at all, except to run towards her vehicle while shouting “Get out of the car. Get out of the fucking car,” before trying to forcibly open her door.
But let’s also put this argument aside, for the moment.
Assume, just as a thought experiment, that ICE was properly enforcing either state traffic regulations or federal law, operating pursuant to its own professional guidelines, and had attempted to de-escalate the situation. The question still remains whether they needed to immediately approach Good’s vehicle. Other standard law enforcement techniques exist to remove someone from an automobile that will less likely lead to a violent outcome, and are actually safer for the involved officers. The intersection near which Good was parked—East 34th Street and Portland Avenue—lay on a standard city grid. A plethora of law enforcement vehicles were in the immediate vicinity, some of which could have redeployed in less than a minute to block Good’s means of egress. ICE could have established a “surround and call out,” wherein they isolated and contained Good, stayed themselves in a position of safe cover, and, if necessary and justified, had drawn and aimed their weapons as a prophylactic measure. After establishing a perimeter, they could have utilized their vehicles’ microphones and loudspeakers to issue instructions for Good to exit her vehicle in a manner that ensured everyone’s safety.
To be clear, while this would not be a common technique to use for someone who was not the identified subject of a warrant or acting violent, it was an available option if ICE seriously thought removing Good from her car, for some reason, was absolutely necessary.
But let’s put this argument aside as well, for the moment.
Assume, just as a thought experiment, that ICE was properly enforcing either state traffic regulations or federal law, operating pursuant to its own professional guidelines, had attempted to de-escalate the situation, and that a surround and call out had not successfully extricated Good from her vehicle. The question still remains whether ICE approached her automobile in a tactically sound manner. Video footage indicates that the first movement occurs when Ross maneuvers himself from the side of Good’s vehicle to its front, all the while videotaping his actions with his cellphone in what appears to be his dominant hand (he switches the device to his other side when it comes time for him to draw his weapon). This change in position defies both standard practice and common sense: As the former chief of the FBI’s Tactical Training Unit noted to The New York Times, “Obviously just from a safety standpoint, officers are taught to approach vehicles from angles that would not put themselves squarely in the traffic path if at all possible.” If Ross thought himself in danger, it also defies explanation why he occupied his best hand with his phone, solely to capture video footage.
The other officers, who quickly join Ross, similarly eschew standard law enforcement techniques. Generally speaking, most agencies train personnel to approach a vehicle deliberately when there is an unknown risk combined with no imminent threat; all the officers here sprinted toward Good’s automobile. A car contains a number of potentially dangerous areas that officers need to observe before any substantive interactions with the occupants: the trunk or rear cabin; the back passenger side, which gives a view as to whether anyone is ensconced in the back seat or on the floor of the vehicle; and, the front driver’s side, which allows the approaching officer to see who is sitting in the front of the car while simultaneously keeping an eye on the hands of the driver. Officers generally should approach these positions cautiously and with enough distance to look through the windows before making any further tactical decisions. (Although I’m referring to deliberate movement and observations, these words do not mean that the personnel should move tentatively or without alacrity, but simply that their actions should rely more on forethought and training than adrenaline and emotion.) In this case, the officers other than Ross both proceed immediately to the driver’s door. Only one maintains a distance and position that would not entangle him with the vehicle should it begin moving.
At this point, we have run out of arguments which we can momentarily cabin. As videos of the incident show, as Renee Nicole Good turns her steering wheel to the right and begins to drive away, three shots ring out, her vehicle careens into a parked car and light post, and the assembled bystanders scream.
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The crack of the shots dissipates into the air, the car sits crumpled and smoking, and then something does not happen. None of the ICE officers appear to be in any hurry to go render aid to Good; they do not approach the crash site tactically, nor do they rush towards it. The only reaction any of the officers seem to have is when Ross appears to exclaim that Good was a “fucking bitch.” ICE personnel actually prevented civilian medics on the scene from rendering any aid.
The withholding of aid alone could have serious consequences for the involved officers if they ever find themselves facing a color of law civil rights investigation, as it speaks to a deliberate indifference to a serious medical condition as prohibited by the relevant statute. The notion that law enforcement personnel would rush to provide medical assistance to someone they have just shot seems counterintuitive to those who have never worn a badge, but in the years following the death of George Floyd, the federal government overhauled its guidelines to mandate this very behavior. The Department of Homeland Security’s deadly force policy specifically requires the following:
As soon as practicable following a use of force and the end of any perceived public safety threat, DHS LEOs shall obtain appropriate medical assistance for any subject who has visible or apparent injuries, complains of being injured, or requests medical attention. This may include rendering first aid if properly trained and equipped to do so, requesting emergency medical services, and/or arranging transportation to an appropriate medical facility.
Federal law enforcement officers and agents generally receive fairly extensive medical training throughout their careers, particularly with respect to gunshot wounds; a standard part of their issued tactical gear, carried on their ballistic vests, is the basic equipment necessary to staunch the attendant bleeding, such as tourniquets, Israeli bandages, and occlusive dressings. Many personnel—certainly those certified as tactical medics—can perform a field tracheotomy and, if needed, intubate someone with an endotracheal tube. Many law enforcement academies teach some of these skills, as well as basic CPR, during the first week.
Maybe ICE personnel are the rare law enforcement officers who do not regularly go through this sort of training. But perhaps, then, their leaders should reconsider whether the agency is best suited to be the tip of the spear in operations to apprehend “the worst of the worst.”
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Fools rush in where angels fear to tread, and within hours of the event, Secretary Noem—whose own deadly force experience recalls nothing so much as the finale of “Old Yeller”—quickly pronounced the shoot justified. The vice president and president of the United States followed suit. And to be fair, many critics of ICE have come to the opposite conclusion with similar alacrity. But this article is not about whether deadly force was justified at the moment Ross let loose with three rounds of ammunition; it is simply a series of observations about steps that could have prevented the need to even make that choice.
