When Scott Silverii began his career as a police officer, he faced daily exposure to traumatic incidents with little guidance or support, particularly in distressed neighborhoods where officers were expected to respond decisively under pressure.

“When I started, the only thing they offered was to suck it up and get over it,” Silverii said. “Any indication that you were hurt meant that you were weak, and if you were weak, it meant you could not be trusted.”

Years later, when Silverii became a police chief, he chose a different approach. Rather than reinforcing silence around trauma, he made mental health support a visible part of his leadership.

“In every critical incident that we had, I would bring the critical incident stress debriefing team in — and I would participate in it,” Silverii said. “I wanted to promote it from the top. That’s what it’s going to continue to take to change the culture.”

Silverii’s experience reflects a broader reality in law enforcement. Across the country, police officers face ongoing mental health challenges linked to repeated exposure to violent crime scenes, fatal accidents, and human suffering — experiences that most civilians never encounter. Long shifts and the responsibility of protecting the public have long been documented to further intensify emotional strain, particularly when officers fear making mistakes with serious consequences. 

Silverii, former Thibodaux, La., chief of police and current National Law Enforcement Initiative Manager at Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD), said coping mechanisms in the past were often unhealthy. 

“A lot of officers, they would drink — sometimes prescription drug use, just different ways,” of coping, he said. Today, he said, the trauma can linger long after an incident: “…you become affected by the trauma. It doesn’t have to happen to you. But when officers respond to a crash, you’re involved… You carry this trauma.” 

In some cases, he says, the impact resurfaces every year. “My body begins to manifest physically, through depression, through stress… once I realize it’s the anniversary, I can start dealing with it,” he said.

For decades, police culture discouraged officers from seeking mental health support, often treating emotional distress as a weakness rather than an occupational hazard. In recent years, however, departments have begun expanding access to counseling, peer-support programs, and crisis-intervention training.

In Baltimore, a shift in police culture is tackling the long-standing “shrug it off” mentality toward officer mental health. The Baltimore Police Department’s Officer Safety and Wellness Section, started in 2018, changed how the agency handles trauma, depression, and substance abuse by treating these issues as medical needs rather than disciplinary failures. 

A core component of the program is its confidential alcohol addiction treatment, which has seen more than 250 officers voluntarily sign themselves in without fear of termination. This proactive approach has led to a dramatic drop in internal interventions — falling from 250 in 2018 to 48 in 2024 — alongside a decrease in citizen complaints and use-of-force incidents. 

The need for such programs is underscored by national data from the Police1 2024 State of the Industry report, which found that 76% of officers cite a lack of time due to heavy workloads as the primary barrier to maintaining their health.  More than 50% of respondents report that a significant stigma still surrounds seeking mental health services. Perhaps most telling — 12% of officers nationwide report having no access to mental health resources at all, and 33% have considered calling themselves out of service due to emotional distress or exhaustion.

Chris Asplen, executive director of the National Criminal Justice Association, is a former Washington prosecutor who handled child abuse and other high-stakes cases. He said the emotional weight of the work eventually led him to step away after becoming a parent.

“It became too mentally and emotionally difficult after I had my own child,” Asplen said.

Asplen said his understanding of trauma was also shaped in part by his upbringing. Raised by a parent who struggled with mental illness, he described growing up feeling overlooked. “My father’s mental health issues made me essentially invisible to him,” he said — an experience that later informed how he approached victims in the justice system.

Asplen also pointed to disparities in how mental health crises are handled. His family’s middle-class background, he said, afforded protections and support not available to many others. “Mental health issues for people who are not white and middle class are often treated as criminal matters,” he said.

Experts warn that when mental health challenges go unaddressed, they can affect officers’ judgment, job performance, and interactions with the public. In response, lawmakers and communities have begun exploring preventive approaches. In 2023, Congress passed the De-escalation Act, providing funding for training focused on crisis response, de-escalation, and officer wellness.

In addition to legislative efforts, some communities are turning to violence intervention programs aimed at reducing harm before police are required to respond. One such organization, Roca, was founded in Massachusetts in 1988 and has operated in Baltimore since 2018.  According to the organization’s impact data, 87% of its participants have had no new incarcerations after entering the program for at least 24 months. 

Police officers in Baltimore and several other cities have been trained by Roca’s nonprofit coaching arm, the Roca Impact Institute, to use cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) to regulate their emotions and understand the impact of trauma on officers and community members. The training reduced stress, loss of temper and use of force incidents, according to the institute.  

A 2024 report by the D.C. Office of the Attorney General showed the city’s violence intervention program’s efforts contributed to an 18% decrease in shootings and a 26% decrease in gun homicides across its target neighborhoods in 2023. Based on the national Cure Violence Global model, the programs treat violence as a public health epidemic through the use of what it calls “credible messengers” to de-escalate conflicts.

But a Washington Post investigation published Feb. 3 found excessive spending that City Administrator Kevin Donahue called a “completely inappropriate use of public money.” A week later, the publication reported that two DC violence interrupters were charged with murder in the death of a Baltimore man in a DC nightclub in 2023.  

When done correctly, these programs can offer a secondary benefit by reducing the volume of high-stress calls handled by law enforcement. Advocates say such approaches can lessen the emotional toll on officers by preventing traumatic encounters altogether. 

“If we can reduce the amount of trauma that occurs at the scene,” Asplen said, “then we’re a lot further along.”

(Carl Barbett is a senior at Bard High School Early College DC, one of Youthcast Media Group’s journalism class partners. This story was produced under the mentorship of Edith Mwangi, a Kenyan multimedia journalist based in D.C. with a background in international reporting and politics.)