Theresa May’s right: the police need radical reform. Here’s why

One fine morning early this year I had tea with Stephen Greenhalgh, Boris’s pleasant if perspiring deputy mayor for policing, and discussed the two great crime mysteries of the 21st century.

First: the weird fall in crime. For the past 15 years, all manner of crimes have been on the wane, even violent ones: carjacking, vandalism, burglary, murder — but why? Mr Greenhalgh was admirably quick to credit the Met, but given that it’s a global phenomenon, stretching across Europe and America, that seems unlikely. The truth is probably prosaic: better security and cheaper goods mean young thugs can’t be fished. It’s almost disappointing how apathetic evil turns out to be.

The second mystery follows from the first, and this is the one that really stumps the cops: if we’re all so much safer these days, then why do we still hate them? Year after year, as crime falls further, so does faith in Plod. Whichever way you phrase the questions on a satisfaction survey, the results remain grim. Was it Stephen Lawrence? Plebgate? Can’t we see how lucky we are? What’s wrong with us?

Well I have a theory, born that very morning as I left nice Mr Greenhalgh and walked straight into a scene that seemed set up by fate just to explain.

Outside the entrance to New Scotland Yard, beside that pointlessly revolving sign, a young man in the dusty get-up of a builder was standing, shouting at the door: ‘You just don’t care. You just don’t fucking care. No wonder everybody hates you!’ Then he stalked off, and because I’m a busybody I followed him — to the corner of Victoria Street, where an old lady was sitting on the pavement with a bleeding head wound, surrounded by passers-by.