Many years ago, I represented a police officer whose employer wanted him to sign a last chance agreement. It was a disciplinary case involving several charges, not the least of which included sick leave abuse and the amorphous description of “erratic workplace behavior.” The last chance agreement signaled that the agency wanted to pave the path for an eventual termination of the officer. His was one of four preliminary conferences I had scheduled that day at the agency’s disciplinary counsel’s office to either settle cases or proceed to an administrative trial. With his case, they offered little room to negotiate — either take the agreement and forestall termination for a few months, or go to trial the following week, wherein his sick leave abuse alone could result in termination.
A shift from discipline to diagnosis
My subsequent interview with the officer regarding the underlying charges did not progress far before I noted he was under some type of mental distress. The initial focus of my interview quickly shifted. We discussed his disturbed sleep patterns, uneasiness in crowds, doctor visits, medications for anxiety and, eventually, the recurring images he carried from 9/11 when he responded to the World Trade Center from his patrol assignment in lower Westchester County, New York. My advocacy soon became less about the wording of a proposed last chance agreement and more about finding proper resources to help the officer. It also became about getting this 17-year veteran set up for a disability retirement.
Discussions with the prosecuting disciplinary attorney did not go well at first. Allegations that the officer was faking, and that his present state of mind had nothing to do with the underlying charges, thankfully subsided after prolonged argument, which included my framing a hypothetical civil complaint wherein the agency would be alleged to have failed to properly care for the officer and, in its neglect, exacerbated his mental decline. At the time, I was not sure whether my impromptu argument rested on firm legal grounds, but it was all I had — and the officer needed mental health intervention, not dismissal from a job he relied on to support a family of five.
Eventually, after speaking with the officer in my presence, opposing counsel agreed to hold off on the charges while the officer sought help and applied for a disability pension. What followed was a collaborative effort that resulted in the officer qualifying for disability and receiving mental health counseling during the following nine months while his paperwork was processed.
The disconnect in police management
A story with a positive ending, for sure, but not told for that purpose. Rather, it illustrates the disconnect that often exists in police management between what officers are exposed to during a career and how they are expected to behave in the workplace.
The good news is that in the more than two decades since this occurred, we know far more about police officer mental health and many departments now have wellness programs. Nonetheless, more work is needed. This sentiment is expressed across law enforcement — on social media, in published articles and in everyday conversations.
The profession acknowledges the increased need for mental wellness training, interventions and care, but noble intent is sometimes overtaken by organizational reality. In 2024, I wrote about the role of officer wellness programs in overall liability reduction, but the issue requires more than a balance sheet approach to managing personnel.
When care becomes a liability issue
While prevention is critical, one of the most important elements is care. Too often, officers report feeling abandoned, marginalized or overly scrutinized when they seek help. A department’s failure to properly care for its employees — or its tendency to treat them like damaged goods once a mental wellness issue arises — can create legal exposure.
In North Carolina, a police officer sued her agency and was awarded $110,000 after being placed on administrative duties when supervisors learned she received VA benefits for depression. The 15-year veteran was required to pass a mental fitness test before being returned to duty. She sued under the Americans with Disabilities Act, which prohibits discrimination based on physical or mental disability.
In Detroit, an officer sued his department for failing to accommodate him following a PTSD diagnosis after the “suicide by cop” death of his former mentor.
An Iraq war veteran and NYPD officer, criticized the NYPD for its handling of 10 officer suicides in 2019. He filed a state lawsuit in 2020, alleging the department fostered stigma around mental health and citing his own public embarrassment after disclosing prescribed antidepressants to department doctors.
In Independence, Missouri, a female officer sued her department for sexual discrimination and retaliation, claiming her career was derailed because of her “overly emotional” response to a colleague’s line-of-duty death. She was one of four initial responding officers and at one point performed CPR on a dying colleague. During a debriefing, she was described as “overly emotional” and later subjected to an internal affairs investigation.
Policy progress and what still falls short
Each of these lawsuits reflects viable claims based on an employer’s failed response to officer mental wellness. They also represent learning moments for other departments.
Recently, New York State took a step forward with legislation S6244A/A6721A, the Lieutenant Joseph Banish Mental Health Act, named after a 15-year state police veteran who died by suicide due to job stress and internal pressures. The law establishes confidentiality requirements for peer-to-peer counseling communications.
However, a separate bill vetoed by Governor Hochul in December 2025 awaits renewed consideration, as the NYS Troopers PBA continues to advocate for its passage. The bipartisan legislation S2681/A6452 would have required the superintendent of state police to provide 20 days of paid leave for members directly involved in a critical incident and prohibit punitive action based solely on that leave. Those indirectly involved would receive up to 15 days.
The veto represented a missed opportunity. Yet even if passed, the proposal does not go far enough. Other critical incidents should qualify for leave — perhaps not at the same duration as an officer-involved shooting, but aligned with the research on cumulative stress and trauma exposure.
A good place to start is a 2010 Journal of Traumatic Stress study by Weis et al. on how officers experience and rate exposure to traumatic events. The severity rankings outlined in that research can help inform stronger legislation like S2681/A6452.
Efforts to protect officer mental health are not a halfway proposition. Employers can no longer afford to treat them as such.
