How to Determine Whether a Police Officer's Use of a Firearm Is Excessive

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Taoyuan police attempted to arrest a repeat vehicle thief, who refused to get out of the car, reversed, and then drove forward. After firing a warning shot into the air proved ineffective, police fired three shots at close range into the suspect's legs, resulting in ten wounds and death from excessive blood loss. The court held that, based on video footage, the suspect intended to escape rather than ram the police officers, and objectively there was no "present unlawful infringement"; therefore, the officer could not establish a defense of lawful self-defense. However, in the officer's own "subjective cognition," they "mistakenly believed" the suspect intended to ram the police—a doctrine known as "putative self-defense," which excludes the "intent" to shoot, reducing it to "negligence."

Consequently, the judge concluded that the act constituted only professional negligence resulting in death. Furthermore, because the officer met the requirements for "voluntary surrender," the sentence was "mitigated" to six months of imprisonment, with the option of a commutable fine. Following media reports, this news triggered a wave of "support for hardworking police" and criticism of "dinosaur judges." Even then-Taoyuan Magistrate Cheng Wen-tsan (鄭文燦) stepped forward, declaring that he stood firmly with the police and that the 180,000 NTD fine for the six-month sentence would be fully covered by the Taoyuan City Government. Beyond the polarization of supporting or opposing the police or the judge, this case actually reveals a great deal and offers many meaningful points for exploration.

Judging a "Present Unlawful Infringement" Is Not Easy

It is very easy for a judge to acquit a police officer: they only need to determine that at the moment, the officer faced an "unlawful infringement." Whether the infringement is strong or weak—such as opening fire, drawing a weapon, or driving a vehicle directly toward an officer—these are undoubtedly infringements, and the police firing their weapons is entirely justified. Regardless of injury or death, the result is an acquittal. However, when someone reaches into their pocket, has pockets that look bulky, or—as in this case—refuses to comply with orders and reverses then drives forward, judges may believe there is room for discussion.

This confines the question of "whether" an officer can shoot to whether the officer was "in danger." If police are in danger, they can of course shoot; if they are not in danger, they cannot. The focal point of discussion in this case lies precisely here. The judge believed the suspect merely wanted to flee and the police were not in danger. Therefore, shooting was already inappropriate, and causing death was excessive.

The police argued that the vehicle was driving back and forth, posing a danger to their lives and limbs. The judge rejected this, holding that the officer merely "mistakenly believed" there was danger, which at most constituted "putative self-defense." Many of those voicing support for the officer agreed with the police's account, even arguing that with a car driving back and forth, there was a "high probability" of danger, and the officer should not have been convicted—arguing that the judge was completely out of touch with reality.

Indeed, when police are on duty, the situation often changes rapidly in an instant, and excessive severity should be avoided. However, judges can only make ex-post judgments and cannot deduce every possible scenario. Fortunately or unfortunately, this case had surveillance footage covering the entire incident; believing everyone will form their own judgment on whether the shooting was excessive after watching the video, blaming the judge as a "dinosaur" is perhaps overly harsh.

In fact, the judge's determination that the officer met the qualifications for sentence mitigation due to voluntary surrender clearly shows an intention to cut him some slack. Furthermore, sentencing him to only six months indicates no desire to send him to prison. Yet, by permitting only a commutable fine rather than granting probation, the ruling carried a subtle undertone of reprimand. Perhaps this was because the officer's attitude after the incident was unsatisfactory to the judge. Alternatively, it may have been because the outcome was far too severe—after all, this was merely a property crime that cost a human life, and the feelings of the victim's family needed to be taken into consideration.

Another Standard for Shooting?

When supporters of the police use imprecise phrasing, it often leads to misunderstandings, as if police commit no crime by shooting whenever a suspect fails to docilely "surrender without a fight"—essentially saying, "It's your own fault for running!" Upon closer reflection, this is obviously not the case, or else the Act Governing the Use of Police Weapons would not contain a multitude of restrictive provisions. Article 4 of the Act, which governs the circumstances under which police weapons may be used, is admittedly written rather vaguely and broadly; nevertheless, Article 6 still imposes the limits of the principle of proportionality.

Therefore, if one accepts the proposition that police use of firearms has boundaries, it implies that sometimes, even if a criminal "runs away right in front of a police officer's eyes," the police simply are not permitted to shoot. In other words, we agree that judges are capable of concretely weighing the real-world circumstances of individual cases to determine whether the use of a firearm is excessive.

Conversely, rejecting this proposition resembles another hidden standard for shooting that is tacitly accepted deep within our society: the belief that the police must "accomplish their mission at all costs" and under no circumstances let a criminal escape. Concurrently, it harbors the notion that firing a shot when someone runs is perfectly fine just to catch the suspect, and if they get hit or killed, it's their own fault: "If you didn't run, this wouldn't have happened!"

A careful analysis of the remarks made by certain public figures reveals that what they truly revere in their hearts is this "don't comply, get shot" standard. For instance, they repeatedly emphasize how robust and powerful law enforcement is by American police, where failure to obey a command results in police gunfire. Moreover, they intentionally or unintentionally ignore the fact that the United States is a country where firearm ownership is legally permitted, naturally widening the threshold for police self-defense. This clearly cannot be mentioned in the same breath as Taiwan, where firearms are strictly regulated.

Of course, "don't comply, get shot" is not the current operational standard for police forces. This article merely seeks to point out that among many people in power, such thinking still lingers deep within their psychology. Perhaps this stems from habits left over from the authoritarian era. Because in an authoritarian system, prosecutors, police, and investigative agencies serve as the claws and teeth used by the state to enforce control, they certainly tolerate no challenges from the people—not even passive or instinctive resistance against arrest. Disobeying the commands of prosecutors, police, and investigators is completely intolerable. This is the toxic legacy of authoritarianism, a mindset we must guard against reviving, and perhaps the true underlying factor behind why the judge was subjected to scathing criticism.

Finally, while high-ranking officials and public figures continually emphasize how strong and powerful American police enforcement is, this article wishes to specifically highlight a different perspective and practice: in England and Scotland, ordinary police officers do not carry firearms or other lethal weapons while on patrol. Furthermore, they believe that this approach is the one that better safeguards police safety.

Perhaps you feel that the British approach is altogether too naive and absurd, and even less comparable to the realities on the ground in Taiwan. Yes, perhaps you are right. But as a reminder, by the same token, the United States may likewise be incomparable. Nevertheless, the British approach relies on highly pragmatic, empirical data—analyzing the number of cases involving attacks on police, the number of cases involving excessive use of force by police, and the number of cases where suspects carried lethal weapons—before deciding what level of force is appropriate for police deployment. Compared to the wishful thinking and pronouncements of public figures, this point is surely a merit we should strive to learn from!