Cynicism runs deep in law enforcement. My first lessons from my first field training officer made it pretty clear: “Everyone lies, and everyone is stupid. So even if they don’t think they’re lying, they’re stupid, so they’re probably lying.”
It’s a wonder I’ve maintained a largely positive outlook after nearly two decades in this career, but it hasn’t been without bumps and rough patches of negativity. Cynicism is sneaky. It starts as sarcasm and dark humor and ends in toxicity and nihilism, where it feels like nothing matters. What begins as coping becomes destructive — to the individual and the organization.
We know how it happens. We’re unduly disposed to it because we’re unduly exposed to the darker side of life. We see people at their worst. We respond to bad things caused by bad actors. We’re lied to, manipulated and sometimes betrayed — so it makes sense we build emotional armor in any form possible.
That armor can keep us sharp and alive. But wear it too long, and it corrodes. Cynicism doesn’t just color your perspective — it compounds everything we’re struggling with across the profession: recruiting, retention, morale, culture and leadership. When we stop believing that good people, good change and good outcomes are possible, why would anyone want to join, stay or lead?
Psychologist Jamil Zaki, in “Hope for Cynics: The Surprising Science of Human Goodness,” argues that cynicism — while it feels like survival — may be one of the most damaging forces in modern life. For veteran first responders, it’s even worse. It drains empathy, erodes trust and isolates us. But the antidote isn’t pretending everything’s fine. It’s practicing a form of hope that’s grounded, gritty and real — the kind that fits our world, not a Hallmark card.
Here’s how to tell if cynicism has started to run your shift — and what to do about it.
Every story sounds the same
If you find yourself finishing people’s sentences, assuming every victim’s lying, every boss is clueless and every reform is doomed, that’s not insight. That’s fatigue.
Experience helps you see patterns; cynicism convinces you there’s no point looking for exceptions. Zaki notes that cynicism flattens your view of humanity — it tricks you into thinking “everyone’s out for themselves.” Most people aren’t. The average officer just sees a high concentration of those who are.
If you assume the worst, you’ll usually find it.
Awareness into action: Next time you catch yourself labeling someone before listening, pause. Ask one more open-ended question. Let the person finish. Be curious, not just correct. Curiosity keeps your mind flexible; cynicism keeps it closed. It helps in investigations — and in keeping your learning pliable instead of brittle.
You stop feeling proud of small wins
You used to feel on top of the world after a good arrest, closing a case or talking a juvenile through a crisis. But lately, you can’t remember a time that felt meaningful.
If you’re still responding to calls and working cases, it’s not that your work doesn’t matter — it’s that burnout drowns out the meaning. When nothing feels worth celebrating, cynicism has suffocated your purpose.
Zaki reminds us that cynicism feeds on hopelessness. The more you convince yourself it doesn’t matter, the more it doesn’t. You stop finding the good, so you stop seeing it. Eventually, that mindset spreads and confirms itself.
Awareness into action: Start small. Write down why you became a police officer. List your top three proudest moments. You’ll likely find they’re filled with purpose and service. Then text or call someone who mattered in those moments — thank them for the mentorship, partnership or friendship. Connection revives meaning.
You default to mockery
You can’t sit through a briefing, wellness talk or community event without rolling your eyes or dropping a sarcastic comment. You can’t help but think, say or contribute in ways that aren’t just unhelpful — they’re harmful.
Years ago, I saw a firehouse sign that read, “Is it kind? Is it true? Is it necessary?” It sounded cheesy then, but now I get it. If it isn’t helping, it’s hurting. Did we sign up to be helpful or hurtful?
Cynicism is culturally accepted, but it’s not far from victim mentality. No one respects a constant complainer. Taking people down a peg is easy — it’s bullying, not brotherhood.
Awareness into action: When you feel yourself wanting to vent or gossip, stop. Ask: Is it kind? Is it true? Is it necessary? Do I want to be part of the problem or the solution? Constructive talk builds trust; gossip erodes it.
Your partners pull back
Everyone knows that officer who walks into a room and the energy dies. The “energy vampire” who drains the squad with complaints and lectures.
You may think you’re “just telling it like it is,” but negativity spreads fast. If your crew avoids you or rookies stop asking questions, that’s not on them.
If things go quiet when you walk in, ask yourself why. If you don’t know who the jerk is in the room — it might be you.
Awareness into action: Be the thermostat, not the thermometer. Set the tone up, not down. Offer encouragement before critique. Point out effort and intention. Celebrate someone else’s win, even if you’re struggling to find your own. That’s how you build culture instead of killing it.
You dread home as much as work
This one’s hardest to face — and most important. When your cynicism follows you home, when you assume your spouse, kids or friends “just don’t get it,” that’s the alarm bell.
I’ve been there — choosing work over home because it felt easier. But that’s not strength; it’s avoidance. Compartmentalizing helps on shift, but not forever. What we see doesn’t evaporate; it piles up.
Cynicism tells you you’re protecting your family from your pain. Really, you’re shutting them out.
Awareness into action: Talk about talking. Some family members want details; others just want to know how you’re doing. Agree on what works before resentment builds.
Some couples use a number code — “I’m at a 3” — to signal emotional depletion. The spouse knows the officer needs space. That system turns guessing into communication.
When you share what you need, connection follows.
How’s your emotional gear holding up?
Flip a card below to reveal a practical action. There are no bad cards — only maintenance items.
The shift: From armor to awareness
Cynicism feels like control, but it’s surrender — a quiet way of saying, “I’m done trying.”
Hopeful skepticism, as Zaki calls it, is different. It’s realism with courage — staying alert to the bad while refusing to stop believing in the good. Hope isn’t soft; it’s strength under pressure. It’s what keeps us showing up with integrity when the world looks broken.
We didn’t sign up for easy. We signed up for meaningful — and meaning requires hope.
Every officer, every leader, every community needs more of it. If we don’t fight cynicism, we lose more than morale — we lose our humanity. Start small. Stay curious. Keep your edge, but don’t let it turn into armor you can’t take off.
Self-assessment quiz
Take our quiz below for a quick assessment of your cynicism levels:
Training discussion points
- What early warning signs of cynicism have you seen in yourself or others?
- How can supervisors model curiosity and hope without sounding naïve?
- What daily or shift habits help you keep perspective after difficult calls?
How do you keep cynicism at bay? Share below.
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