The Health Divide: This video should remind us that police violence is a public health story

Tedrick Washington Jr. wasn’t driving the SUV that Arkansas State Police say was traveling nearly 120 mph.

He was sitting in the back seat.

Washington, a former Division I college basketball player, had his hands raised when a state trooper approached the vehicle following a high-speed chase on Aug. 19 in Blytheville, Arkansas.

What happened next was captured on video. The trooper smashed the window next to Washington with a baton. Washington extended his arm through the broken window. The trooper grabbed Washington by his dreadlocks, pulled him toward the opening rimmed with broken glass and punched him in the face.

Washington is Black.

The trooper, Theodore Henderson, said in his report that Washington resisted commands to crawl through the broken window and "postured up" as if he were preparing to strike the trooper. Henderson acknowledged punching Washington a second time.

Washington, who can be heard saying he couldn’t get out, was eventually pulled from the SUV and charged with resisting arrest and obstruction of governmental operations. The driver was charged with felony fleeing, driving while intoxicated, reckless driving and other offenses.

Anyone can watch the video and debate whether the trooper's use of force was justified. But the incident raises a much bigger question. Would the encounter with police have looked the same if Washington were white?

We can't answer that by watching one video, but we can look at the numbers. They show that when Black Americans encounter police, they are more likely than white Americans to experience force.

In 2022, 6% of Black people reported experiencing the threat or use of nonfatal force during their most recent police-initiated or traffic-accident-related encounter, compared with 2% of white people. That force can include being pushed, grabbed, hit or kicked. Or having a weapon used against you.

Among those whose most recent police contact was initiated by police or related to a traffic accident, nearly 6% of non-Hispanic Black people reported a threat or nonfatal use of force by police, compared with just over 2% overall, according to data published by the Justice Department’s Bureau of Justice Statistics.

And the racial divide goes beyond nonfatal encounters.

A study published in March in PLOS One found that the fatal police shooting rate for Black Americans was two and a half times the rate for white Americans.

Researchers analyzed fatal police shootings in all 50 states from 2015 through 2020. Nationally, the rate was 3.5 per 100,000 Black Americans, compared with 1.4 per 100,000 white Americans.

The disparity wasn't limited to a handful of states or regions.

In every state, Black people were fatally shot by police at a higher rate than white people.

Police violence is also a health problem

Being punched, kicked, slammed to the ground or threatened with a weapon can leave more than bruises. Research shows the health consequences of violent encounters with police don't necessarily end when the encounter ends.

Sometimes the trauma spreads.

Researchers have found that police violence can affect the mental health of Black Americans who weren't there, didn't know the victim and may live miles away from where the encounter occurred.

One of the most striking studies looked at more than 100,000 Black Americans and found that police killings of unarmed Black people were associated with additional days of poor mental health among Black adults living in the same state.

Researchers estimated those killings could contribute to 55 million additional poor mental health days among Black Americans each year.

Another study examined emergency room records in 75 counties across five states and found that after police killed an unarmed Black person, depression-related emergency department visits among Black residents increased 11% during the month of the killing and the following three months.

People didn't have to know the person who died or witness the killing to experience trauma.

Social media has expanded that exposure, allowing millions of people to repeatedly watch violent encounters that once might have been witnessed only by those at the scene.

Think about George Floyd.

Floyd was accused of using a counterfeit $20 bill at a Minneapolis convenience store in May 2020. Minutes later, he was on the pavement with police officer Derek Chauvin's knee pressed against his neck as Floyd repeatedly said he couldn't breathe.

The world watched him die over and over again.

Researchers later measured what happened emotionally across the country.

A study published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences found that anger and sadness rose dramatically in the week following Floyd's death. The impact was especially pronounced among Black Americans. Nearly half of Black respondents reported feeling angry and nearly half reported feeling sad. 

Researchers also found that depression and anxiety symptoms increased more among Black Americans than white Americans following Floyd's death. Researchers estimated the increase translated into roughly 900,000 additional Black Americans who would have screened positive for depression.

I've seen how watching police violence can affect someone who had no connection to the person involved. My wife cried after watching the video of George Floyd's death. She couldn't watch the news for weeks. She didn't know Floyd, but watching what happened to him affected her.

The health consequences of police violence can extend beyond the person who encounters police. That's important when considering videos such as the one showing Tedrick Washington Jr. being pulled by his dreadlocks and punched in the face by an Arkansas state trooper. The physical encounter may end when the video stops. The health effects for some of the people watching may not.

What health journalists can do

Health journalists need to start looking at police violence as more than a criminal justice story. When someone is punched, tased, injured or killed by police, we should also be asking what that encounter did to that person's physical and mental health.

We also need to follow these stories after the video disappears from social media. Did the person involved in the incident suffer from anxiety, depression or PTSD? Are they now afraid when they see a police car? Did they need medical care or counseling afterward? Some of the biggest consequences may come long after the encounter is over.

Doctors, psychologists, trauma experts and public health researchers can help us understand what these encounters can do not only to the person involved, but also to their family and community.

We also need to think about how often we show these videos.

Research shows that police violence can affect people who weren't there. It’s worth remembering that we can report on what happened without repeatedly exposing viewers to the most disturbing images.

One incident can't prove racism or racial bias. That's where the data matter. Look at who gets stopped, searched, arrested, subjected to force and killed. Then compare those numbers by race. That can help us determine whether one disturbing video is an isolated incident or part of something much larger.

Most importantly, don't stop reporting when the handcuffs come off or the camera stops recording.

That's often where the health story begins.