Editor’s note: This article is part of Police1’s Always on: Video Technology Week, which examines how constant, connected video is reshaping modern policing. As agencies collect more footage than ever before, the challenge has shifted from capturing video to deciding how to use it. This piece explores what that shift means for training, supervision and leadership — and why culture, not technology, may be the deciding factor. Thanks to our Video Technology Week sponsor, Motorola.
Modern policing generates an unprecedented amount of video and operational data. We capture not just critical incidents, but thousands of hours of what we might call “routine” activity every week. These systems record far more than outcomes. They capture decision-driving nuances in real time that would slip through the net in a written report: the driver’s hesitation during a traffic stop, or shifts in posture during a tense encounter.
The technology has arrived faster than the training doctrine to support it. Agencies that once operated on memory and written reports now sit on terabytes of footage documenting their daily work. The question is no longer whether to collect this data. The question is now what to do with it.
The data challenge no one planned for
Most agencies are video-rich and strategy-poor. Footage gets stored, reviewed reactively, or pulled only after something goes wrong. Supervisors review clips when a complaint is filed or when use-of-force documentation is required. Depending on agency policy and permitted individual access, officers may never see their own footage unless they’re under investigation. It sits archived, unused, aging out according to retention schedules never designed with learning in mind.
Without a deliberate plan, this data becomes a liability instead of a resource. It feeds litigation, scrutiny and second-guessing, but is rarely leveraged to feed improvement. Departments invest heavily in cameras and storage, then fail to extract value from what they’ve captured.
Why raw video doesn’t equal learning
Video shows what happened, but it doesn’t show what an officer was thinking, what information they had, or what they perceived in the moment. A 10-second clip can make a reasonable decision look reckless and a poor one look justified, depending on how it’s framed. Footage compresses time, flattens context and strips away the sensory overload officers experience operationally.
Training that relies on unstructured video review too often reinforces hindsight bias. Supervisors watch footage knowing the outcome, then work backward to critique decisions that were made under uncertainty. Officers learn to be defensive rather than reflective. They see video as a gotcha tool, not a development resource. The result is that we have created a culture where footage is feared rather than valued.
Consider how professional athletes approach video. NFL players spend hours each week reviewing game film — their own throws, opponent defensive schemes and situational decisions made under pressure. NBA coaches break down possessions frame by frame, analyzing spacing, timing and shot selection. No one treats this as punishment. It’s simply how elite performers improve. The film room is where patterns emerge, where split-second decisions get slowed down and studied, where players learn to see what they missed in real time and learn what to look for in the future.
The stakes in policing are obviously different. A misread in football costs yards; a misread on a call can cost lives. But the principle holds: video becomes valuable when it’s used to develop judgment, not just to assign blame. Sports teams have built cultures where reviewing footage is expected and welcomed because everyone understands the purpose is improvement. Law enforcement now has the same opportunity, but without the same shared expectations around review and development. Building that culture is the difference between footage that informs and footage that intimidates.
Turning video into a training asset
Effective use of video requires intentionality. It means identifying subtle cues and decision points, not just mistakes. An uneventful traffic stop can teach optimal positioning and communication. Successful techniques can be broken down into transferable, teachable skills.
Agencies that use video well build scenario libraries from their own encounters. They can create a catalog of real-world situations organized by skill, policy area, or tactical consideration. These become shared reference points across shifts and units. A new officer in field training sees the same examples a veteran reviews in roll call. The lessons are aligned, repeatable and grounded in the agency’s actual work.
The missing link: Supervisors as data translators
First-line supervisors, such as sergeants and corporals, sit at the critical juncture between raw footage and organizational learning. They’re the ones positioned to watch video, provide context and lead coaching conversations. But most have never been trained to do this work. They weren’t taught how to identify teaching moments in footage, how to lead a non-punitive review, or how to separate developmental feedback from discipline and ridicule.
When review standards are inconsistent, the system breaks down. One sergeant pulls video for every call. Another never looks unless forced. Officers don’t know what to expect, so they assume the worst. Trust erodes, and the learning opportunity is lost. Supervisors need structure, training and clear guidance on how to use video to develop their teams.
What intentional agencies do differently
Agencies that use video strategically make key decisions before incidents occur, rather than reacting to footage after something goes wrong. They define how footage will be reviewed, who will have access and the purpose of that review. They train their supervisors on both the mechanics of video systems and the art of coaching from recorded encounters. They establish clear protocols that separate training review from internal affairs, so officers know when footage is being used for development and when it is being used for accountability. That is the cultural foundation for video as a tool, not a weapon.
These agencies also communicate openly about how video data feeds improvement. Officers see their footage used in training scenarios. They watch examples that illustrate good work, not just bad outcomes. Supervisors reference video in positive performance conversations, not only during corrective ones. Over time, that consistency reshapes expectations and reinforces video as a tool for learning rather than suspicion.
The leadership challenge ahead
Always-on video has given law enforcement agencies unprecedented insight into their own operations. Departments now have the ability to study their work at scale, identify patterns, and improve performance in ways never before possible. The agencies that benefit most will be the ones that treat video as operational intelligence, not just courtroom evidence.
Collecting data has now become the easy part. Using that data well requires leadership, structure, and a commitment to learning that many agencies have not yet developed. The challenge isn’t technological. It’s cultural and strategic. The footage exists. The question is whether agencies are prepared to learn from it.
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