Plural Policing in Action Exploring the Nature of Security Networks in English and Australian Stadiums

Plural Policing in Action Exploring the nature of security networks in English and Australian stadiums

Ana Abigail Rodas

A thesis submitted to the University of New South

Wales in fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of Doctorate of Philosophy in Criminology

November 2011 PLEASE TYPE THE UNIVERSITY OF NEW SOUTH WALES Thesis/Dissertation Sheet

Surname or Family name: RODAS

First name: ANA Other name/s: ABIGAIL

Abbreviation for degree as given in the University calendar: PhD

School: Social Sciences and International Studies Faculty: ARTS and SOCIAL SCIENCES

Title: Plural Policing in Action: Exploring the nature of security networks in English and Australian Stadiums

Abstract 350 words maximum: (PLEASE TYPE)

The public police are not the sole providers of security. There are a number of private and voluntary bodies engaged in ‘policing’. Hence, the social control networks of countries such as Australia, Canada, and England are ‘pluralised’ or ‘fragmented’. While there has been some discussion about the growth of ‘plural policing’ there has been very little empirical research examining the nature of the ‘security networks’ that emerge as a result of this.

The present study aims to explore the nature of plural policing networks in action. Using a comparative framework, the study situates plural policing within the historical and cultural context of football policing in two nations. An English (Anfield Stadium) venue and an Australian venue (Aussie Stadium) were selected. Participant observation was undertaken at each venue to observe the policing network in practice. In addition, in-depth interviews were conducted. A total of 80 interviews were completed, those interviewed at each site included stewards/security, police, stadium management, and football fans.

Findings reveal that the production of order at football matches in each location can be organised into two distinct models, a ‘communal’ model operating in Liverpool and a ‘commercial’ model operating in Sydney. Each model consists of several levels of governance. These include: the laws that govern the policing of football, local rules of order, practical definitions of order, and informal norms. Each level of governance is exercised by a distinct agent. For example, laws and procedures are determined by national and local governments while local rules of order are determined by stadium managers, and private security and stewards in their use of discretion determine the practical definitions of order and football supporters not only create but also enforce informal norms. Hence, in practice plural policing of football consist of ‘security networks’ that go beyond the public/private dichotomy and incorporate a range of agents, with football fans and the organisations that represent their interest emerging not just as the targets of policing but also as significant players in the ‘security network’, through self-regulation. These dimensions of governance are directly affected by historical, cultural and spatial factors that determine the overall model that operates in each location.

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ABSTRACT

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affected by historical, cultural and spatial factors that determine the overall model that operates in each location.

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I have been indebted in the preparation of this thesis to my supervisors, Janet Chan and David Dixon, my ‘dynamic duo’, whose patience and kindness, as well as academic guidance, have been invaluable. I feel blessed and honoured to have undertaken this journey of academic traineeship under your tutelage. I know the journey has been long and hard, but your consistent support and encouragement, even though the rough seas, is greatly appreciated.

I’m also grateful to all the men and women (police officers, stewards, private security guards, fans and event managers) who gave their time and lent their voice to this project. In particular, I thank the following groups and organisations, without whom this study could not have been realised. In New South Wales I thank: the New South Wales Police Force, Aussie Stadium, National Entertainment Services and the ‘Cove’. In Liverpool I thank: Merseyside Police, in particular Inspector Bernie Swift, who welcomed me into the Football Unit and made all possible resources available for the completion of this study, Anfield Stadium, Goodison Park, and Liverpool FC supporters. A special thanks to, Dr Rogan Taylor and The Management School at the University of Liverpool who kindly hosted me during a three month external research trip.

I also owe much thanks to my family, my parents, Alfonso and Blanca Rodas and my brothers, Cesar, Jonathan and Jorge. They have been a constant source of support and encouragement. A big thank you to ‘the boys’ and to Danielle Grasso, for their practical contribution to ‘operation finish line’, the referencing and editorial assistance is much appreciated, as were the late night snacks. This thesis would certainly not have existed without them. I thank them.

The informal support and encouragement of many friends has been indispensable, and I would like particularly to acknowledge the contribution of Subbu Krishna, whose intelligence, humour and strength have been welcomed companions from beginning to end. A thank you iv | P a g e

also, to Melanie Simpson, Jenny Wise and Christina Marel, only those who’ve walked the path truly understand the endless self-doubts, fears and need to escape! Thank you, for the cups of hot chocolate, the kind words, and the collegial sharing of ideas.

The staff from The Learning Centre, particularly Maria who gave of their time to assist me through a very trying writing wall, their gentle encouragement and concern was and is much appreciated. I also thank the three examiners of an earlier version of this thesis for their very constructive and considered comments. Their suggestions have improved the quality of the thesis overall.

Finally, I would like to acknowledge the financial contributions made by the University of New South Wales, in the form of a University Postgraduate Award (UPA) and the external research grant from the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences, which facilitated the comparative aspect of this thesis.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

ABSTRACT ...... II

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ...... IV

TABLE OF CONTENTS ...... VI

LEGISLATION...... IX

CHAPTER ONE: THESIS OVERVIEW ...... 1

CHAPTER TWO: GLOBAL TRENDS IN THE POLICING MARKET ...... 11

Introduction ...... 11

What Is Policing? ...... 12

The Rise of the ‘Policing Market’ ...... 13

Plural Policing Networks ...... 31

Conclusion ...... 50

CHAPTER THREE: ORDERING FOOTBALL DEVELOPING A CONCEPTUAL FRAMEWORK ...... 53

Introduction ...... 53

Theoretical Perspectives on the Policing Of Football ...... 54

Football Policing: an Integrated Framework ...... 73

CHAPTER FOUR: RESEARCH METHODS ...... 76

Introduction ...... 76

The Research Design ...... 77

Data Collection Methods ...... 82

Ethical Considerations...... 92

Limitations of the Current Study ...... 94

Conclusion ...... 96

CHAPTER FIVE: THE HISTORY OF FOOTBALL AS A SPECTATOR SPORT ...... 97

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Introduction ...... 97

Football in England ...... 98

The UK Football Industry ...... 105

Football Fans: from Hooligans to Consumers ...... 108

Supporting Football in Merseyside ...... 113

Football in Australia ...... 120

The Legacy of the NSL ...... 122

A New Beginning – The Hyundai A-League ...... 127

Conclusion ...... 132

CHAPTER SIX: THE ORGANISATION OF FOOTBALL POLICING ...... 134

Introduction ...... 134

The Emergence of Plural Policing ...... 136

The Laws and Regulations Governing the Policing of Football ...... 142

The Physical and Social Geography of the Stadium ...... 150

The Policing Network and Strategies ...... 157

Conclusion ...... 172

CHAPTER SEVEN: PLURAL POLICING AT WORK ...... 175

Introduction ...... 175

Relationship between Police and Football Club/Stadium Management ...... 179

Relationship between Public and Private Policing Agents ...... 185

Fan’s Experience of Policing ...... 196

Conclusion ...... 207

CHAPTER EIGHT: CONCLUSION ...... 213

Introduction ...... 213

The Same, Yet Different: The Role of History and Culture in Football Policing ...... 215 vii | P a g e

The Rule of Law and Local Rules of Order ...... 219

Policing Strategies: The Interactional and Spatial Dimensions ...... 221

Practical Definitions of Order and Informal Norms ...... 226

Conclusion ...... 231

REFERENCES ...... 236

APPENDICES ...... 257

APPENDIX 1: SAMPLE OF PARTICIPANT INFORMATION STATEMENT ...... 257

APPENDIX 2: POLICE INTERVIEW GUIDES ...... 259

APPENDIX 3: FAN INTERVIEW GUIDE ...... 261

APPENDIX 4: PRIVATE SECURITY INTERVIEW GUIDE ...... 262

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LEGISLATION

United Kingdom

Police Act 1964 Local Government Provisions Act 1982 Sporting Events (Control of Alcohol Act) 1985 Football Offences Act 1991 Criminal Justice and Public Order Act 1994 Police Act 1996 Football (Disorder) Act 2000 Private Security Industry Act 2001

New South Wales

Crimes Act 1900 Sydney Cricket and Sports Ground Act 1978 Security Industry Act 1997 Security Industry (Olympic and Paralympic Games) Act 1999 Sporting Venues (Offenders Banning Orders) Act 2005 Major Events Act 2009 Sydney Cricket Ground and Sydney Football Stadium By-law 2009

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CHAPTER ONE: THESIS OVERVIEW

Safety and by extension security have become central concerns for governments, communities, business entities and even individual households around the world. The threat of constant danger and risk is pervasive. Concerns over terrorism and anxieties over a perceived increase in crime and anti-social behaviour all combine to generate an ever increasing ‘need’ for security. The ‘security systems’ or ‘security networks’ that are created as a response to the demand for security vary significantly in terms of complexity, effectiveness and implications (Johnston and Shearing, 2003). In spite of the importance placed on security, Button (2008) explains that much of what exist as security today is ‘sub-prime’. That is to say that the quality of much security is poor, with unsuitable individuals and providers operating within the security industry. Parfomak (2004) supports this, arguing that the delivery of security is too often assigned to personnel with insufficient training, inadequate education and lack of professionalism. Hence, there is significant disparity across ‘security systems’.

Whilst the state has been traditionally conceptualised as the sole providers of security and safety, a growing body of academic enquiry supports the notion that the social control networks of countries such as Australia, Canada, England and the United States of America are ‘pluralised’ or ‘fragmented’ (Button, 2003; Johnston, 2000; Sarre and Prenzler, 2000). There are a number of ways in which state police are supported by hybrid bodies creating a ‘pluralised’ security system. For example, state police work in partnership with environmental health officers, park rangers, community support officers, and fraud investigators (Johnston, 1992; Crawford and Lister, 2002). Moreover, the growth of the private security industry has been identified as significant to changes in the traditional forms of delivering security (Cunningham and Taylor, 1985; Jones and Newburn, 1998; Button, 2007).

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According to Button (2003) and Wakefield (2003), the most significant expression of a shift towards pluralised ‘security networks’ has been the increasing body of literature concerned with the role of private security in policing ‘mass private property’ (Shearing and Stenning, 1981; 1983) or ‘communal spaces’ (Palmer and Whelan, 2007), including social spaces such as shopping centres, airports and leisure facilities. These locations are also referred to in the literature as ‘quasi-public’ or ‘hybrid’ spaces because they are generally privately owned but the public has free or restricted access through purchase of tickets or payment of fees (Gray & Gray, 1999). It is through the increasing presence of these environments that the private security industry has been able to gain a solid share of the policing market.

The private sector is now able to provide security services that match services offered by the state. For example, Jones and Newburn (1998), in analysing a selected range of policing functions, have argued that the state is not the sole provider of policing and that the private sector is also engaged in several policing functions: investigating crimes, arresting or detaining offenders, and responding to calls. In effect, the London Metropolitan Police and the private security industry are carrying out the same range of selected tasks. Button (2008) observes that the only function not carried out by the private security industry in the UK relates to the use of firearms, yet in several jurisdictions around the world, private security personnel are armed (Cunningham and Taylor, 1985; De Waard, 1999; Rigakos, 2002; Sarre and Prenzler, 2005). Moreover, in South Africa, where the most pervasive growth of the private security industry has been manifest, private security companies offer armed response services to their clients (ADT Security, n.d cited in Button, 2008). Further, Button (2008:5) observes:

...the greatest illustration of the capacity of the private sector to undertake almost any role has been the growing involvement of private contractors in Iraq. Here between 6, 000 and 20, 000 overseas security personnel are estimated to be engaged in the protection of foreign workers and facilities, providing advice as well as logistics and technical support.

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This demonstrates that private security now performs several of the functions that had previously been conceptualised as core state functions.

Over a decade ago, Bayley and Shearing (1996: 585) commented:

Modern democratic countries like the United States, Britain, and Canada have reached a watershed in the evolution of their systems of crime control and law enforcement. Future generations will look back on our era as a time when one system of policing ended and another took its place.

Not a great deal of research has been devoted to understanding this ‘watershed’ in the evolution of policing. There has been some discussion in the literature about the growth of ‘plural policing’, with several writers concerned with conceptualising the shift towards nodal forms of governance and others making attempts to quantify the size of the private security industry. Measuring the industry has proven a challenging task, given that there are questions over the methods of data collection, and the casual/part-time nature of much employment in the industry (De Waard, 1993; Jones and Newburn, 1998; Johnston, 2000 and Sarre and Prenzler, 2000). Moreover, there has been very little research which examines the nature of these emerging ‘security networks’. Examples of empirical research into areas of plural policing include studies of community patrols (Crawford, 1997; Crawford and Lister, 2004; Crawford et al. 2005), the role of private security at airports (Salter, 2007), sporting venues (Warren, 1998), factories, shopping centres and cultural spaces (Button, 2003; Wakefield, 2003; Button, 2007), protests (Button, and John, 2002). However, field studies concerned with ‘security networks’ have to date focused primarily on the public/private dichotomy (Brodeur, 2010: Button, 2007: Wakefield 2003) with the notable exception of Crawford et al., (2005) and Skinns (2009) who identify a range of providers including civilian and ‘public auxiliaries’ (e.g. Police Community Support Officers). Additionally, as Brodeur (2010:280) rightly highlights, much of the empirical research on ‘security networks’ focuses on the ‘day-to-day business of policing rather than on special events requiring a high level of security.’ Hence, the practical operation of plural policing systems in the context of football

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matches is an under-researched area, despite the increasing delivery of security through systems or networks.

An important debate arising out of the concern with the pluralisation of policing is the extent to which non-state forms of policing, that may be private, civilian or ‘public auxiliaries’ of the police should be empowered. Merritt (2009:391) in examining this question in relation to the UK’s Police Community Support Officer (PCSO) argues for clearly defined empowerment if these forms of policing are to be effective:

If we have an alternative [to the over stretched police constable] that can concentrate on the low-level crime, disorder and reassurance issues leaving the more highly- trained constables to do appropriate work then let the alternative be clearly and unambiguously empowered.

It is therefore important to study this trend in policing, as the implications of pluralised security systems on those subjected to them are relatively unknown. Further, little is known about the quality of the public/private relationship, with most of the evidence being anecdotal and lacking in both theoretical conceptualisation and empirical foundation (notable exceptions Wakefield, 2003: Button, 2002, Button 2007; Crawford, 2006 and Crawford et al., 2005). Consequently, this study aims to contribute to the body of scholarship on plural policing in practice through an in-depth study of the security networks of two football stadiums. Using a case study approach, the current study addresses the following research questions:

 What is the nature of public order policing at football matches? How does it vary by cultural and historical context?  What types of relationships exist between public police and private security in the policing of football matches?  What are fans’ experiences and perceptions of how football matches are policed and what is the nature of their interactions with public police and private security? 4 | P a g e

The study involved a comparative analysis of two football stadiums and their security network, one in Sydney, Australia and the other in Liverpool, England. Football stadiums were chosen as sites for exploring the nature of plural policing in action because unlike other locations featured in previous studies (e.g. shopping malls, airports, and industrial estates) football stadiums embody a high degree of ‘place attachment’ or ‘topophilia’ (Bale, 2003) with football supporters often referring to their teams’ ground as ‘Home’ and to visitors to the ground as ‘Away’ supporters. The unique connection to place that underlies football spectatorship has a significantly distinct effect on the ‘co-production’ of order, allowing for consideration of the interplay between the cultural, spatial and interactional.

An ethnographic approach was adopted to study the plural policing system at each venue. Methods used included: participant observation, semi-structured in-depth interviewing and the analysis of documentary evidence in the form of organisational reports. Some time was also spent on fan forums as a form of recruitment but these were not systematically analysed as part of this study. The study examined the perceptions and experiences of stadium managers, licensing officials, football fans, public police and private agents of social control (private security guards in Sydney and Stewards in England). This allowed for an exploration of the nature of plural policing systems through the eyes of both public and private control agents, as well as the individuals subject to this type of policing arrangement.

The comparative case study approach allowed for the security network to be situated within its historical, cultural and legal context. These elements are fundamental in informing the emergence, development and implications of the security network for football policing in each country. Particularly since the pluralisation of policing is seen as a global shift, discussion can sometimes be ethnocentric, it is important to identify any unique and local variations to allow for evidence-based policy development and assist in effective policing strategies. It will be argued that the development and implementation of an effective plural policing network is determined by local conditions, including the cultural, the spatial and the

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interactional. Furthermore, studying the nature of ‘security networks’ in the context of football policing takes the study of football policing away from the traditional focus on hooliganism and provides a fresh look into the nature of football policing as a ‘co-production’ that incorporates football fans as active participants in producing order.

The early chapters of the thesis establish the analytical framework for researching the changing nature of policing broadly and the development of football policing specifically, in both Sydney and Liverpool. Chapter 2, ‘The Global Trends in the Policing Market’ describes changes in demand and supply for policing services, leading to the emergence of a plural policing market in which the police and private security are the primary, but not the only, providers of policing. The chapter argues that what is currently occurring in the plural policing market is that a shift in public policing from traditional practices towards neo-liberal practices such as the introduction of fees for services has opened the way for the private security industry to compete for a greater share of the policing market than it previously held. Moreover, private security meets the demand from the ‘responsibilized’ (O’Malley and Hutchinson, 2007: 174) citizens who now seek to take care of their individual security, as the efficiency and effectiveness of the public police are increasingly questioned.

The chapter also highlights the differences that have impacted upon the development of security networks in the UK and Australia. In the UK, plural policing systems are part of the police reform agenda with a focus on partnership policing (Newburn 2003; Edwards and Benyon 2001; Crawford, 1997). In 1998 the Crime and Disorder Act made working through partnerships a statutory requirement. Further the Coalition Government is rapidly pushing the UK towards radical reduction of state activity. In contrast, in Australia there is no official mandate for police to work through partnerships with other agencies engaged in a policing function. However, as Fleming (2006) observes, police departments do promote a commitment towards network policing in annual reports and strategic plans.

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Chapter 3, Ordering Football: Developing a Conceptual Framework introduces the theoretical framework adopted in this thesis. Traditionally studies of football policing have lacked sound theoretical development, with the hooliganism literature dominating the analysis. However, this thesis contends that the complexities of modern football policing operations are not adequately explained by a ‘hooligan’ framework and hence moves away from that tradition.

Football policing through security networks is best understood through the employment of an integrated theoretical framework that takes into account three key dimensions: culture, space and interaction. The chapter discusses how each perspective advances the theorising of football policing away from the hooligan frame into a multivariate analysis that places greater emphasis on the dynamic nature of football policing in the climate of a pluralised policing market. Briefly, culture is concerned with both the culture of football spectatorship in each country and the contrasting occupational cultures of the police and private security personnel. The spatial dimension focuses on the use of space and the concepts of ‘territoriality’ and ‘topophilia’ (love of space) are used to assist the analysis. The interactional perspective relates to the dynamics of the practical relationship between football fans, police and private security personnel. Each perspective assists in informing the development of policing strategies and approaches through space and time.

Chapter 4, Research Methods describes the methodology employed for this study. The current study’s design is presented and a justification given for the use of a two-case comparative study with a multi-method qualitative approach consisting of in-depth interviewing and participant observation. The two cases were Anfield Stadium in England and Aussie Stadium in Australia. A total of 80 interviews were undertaken with police, private security, stewards, football fans and stadium management. A total of ten Australian and four English football matches were observed to examine the security network in action: during the fieldwork the researcher shadowed police and stadium security/stewards and observed their

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interactions with fans and with each other. The chapter concludes with a discussion of the ethical considerations and limitations of the study.

Chapter 5, The History of Football as a Spectator Sport highlights the importance of appreciating the historical and cultural contexts of football in each country in order to understand the way policing is organised and carried out. The developments that have occurred in football spectatorship are also specific to developments in each country. The chapter begins with a presentation of the trajectory of football in England, the impact that the various stadium disasters (i.e. Heysel, Bradford and Hillsborough) have had on the landscape of football policing and by extension the way fans experience spectatorship. In contrast, the trajectory of football in Australia has been affected by football disorder based on nationalistic affiliations and poor management of the sport. Attempts at ‘de- ethnicizing’ Australian football have been at the forefront.

Chapter 6, The Organisation of Football Policing describes the organisation of football policing in the 21st century as a job for the ‘police extended family’. The chapter begins by outlining the materialisation of security networks in the policing of football matches. This includes the emergence of ‘user-pays’ policing and the use of private or volunteer social control agents in the policing of football matches. Key dimensions in the organisation of football are explored. Firstly, the laws and regulations governing the policing of football in each country are presented. The chapter then describes the physical and social geography of each venue emphasising that the structural elements of law and space are affected by the cultural and historical elements identified in Chapter 5. The chapter concludes with an overview of the security network with a focus on the division of responsibility between public and private agents and a presentation of the policing strategies employed in each setting.

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Chapter 7, Plural Policing at Work is concerned with an examination of ‘security networks’ in action. The focus of the practical functioning of the plural policing network is on the nature of interactions. Three key levels of interaction are observed: interactions between police and stadium/club management, interactions between police and private social control agents and interactions between fans and policing agents. It is argued that these interactions occur within the historical, cultural and structural context (covered in Chapters 5 and 6) of each site. Hence, the chapter argues that the complexity, effectiveness and implications of football policing networks are site specific.

The Conclusion summarises the key findings in each chapter, highlighting that the plural policing of football matches needs to be sensitive to the cultural and historical context of both the sport and the place being policed. It is argued that demands for policing which cannot be met by a finite resource like public policing organisations coupled with neo-liberal ideas of public management have stimulated the market for policing services. This trend in policing has led to the development of plural policing networks that engage a wider range of actors in the ‘co-production’ of order and safety. In the context of football policing, the public police and private security/stewards are but two actors in the security network and are joined by national and local governments, stadium managers, ‘home’ fans and supporter groups in forming a security quilt for the policing of football. The thesis identifies tensions that exist between public police and private security at both a managerial and operational level. At a managerial level tensions emerge over the costs of policing, when the spaces or events being policed do not fall neatly into the category of public or private, as is the case in communal spaces such as football stadiums and the externalities surrounding the staging of a football match. At an operational level, the blurring of roles between public police and private security creates difficulties and police perceptions of private security as a junior partner in the policing of football generates conflict.

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The thesis highlights the value of using an integrated theoretical framework that is multidisciplinary in nature—drawing on insights from psychology, sociology, criminology and geography to examine the nature of football policing in the 21st century. An integrated framework moves the study of football policing away from the focus on hooliganism and provides a greater insight into the complexities of modern football policing. The thesis closes with suggestions that what is occurring in the policing of football is that there is a stratification both in terms of how spectators are classed and how policing is organised, with public police adopting a professional role as ‘knowledge brokers’, content to allow private security to be doing the ground work. The extent of these stratifications varies across jurisdictions and is directly affected by cultural and historical context.

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CHAPTER TWO: GLOBAL TRENDS IN THE POLICING MARKET

Introduction

The aim of this chapter is to situate the emergence of a plural policing market and its impact on governance and the provision of policing services within a wider social context. Developments and trends that have affected the organisation and delivery of policing and led to changes in the supply and demand for policing services are discussed.

Over the last 30 years or so, the myth of the sovereign state’s monopoly over policing and social order has increasingly been exposed (Garland 1996). Researchers working in the field of policing have observed that there are in practice a wide range of agencies, including commercial and community groups, which engage in policing. This realisation has resulted in the claim that the social control networks of countries such as Australia, Canada and the United Kingdom (UK) are pluralised or fragmented (Button, 2003: Johnston, 2003: Sarre and Prenzler, 2000). These providers, including the public police, operate within a complex policing market. For example, in the UK Adam Crawford and Stuart Lister (2004) have conducted empirical research into plural policing by community patrols. The authors discovered that ‘reassurance policing’ in England and Wales involves forms of ‘additional’ or ‘supplementary’ policing agents, including guards, neighbourhood wardens, estate rangers, caretakers and concierges, as well as private security guards, contracted-out professional police and citizen patrols. Crawford and Lister’s (2004) work is significant in that their analysis of the policing market of community patrols identifies a wide-ranging group of agents involved in policing— some civil, some private and some governmental. Empirical research into the different forms of plural policing systems is relatively new.

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This chapter will argue that the policing market has emerged as a result of a wide range of external social and internal organisational changes. Key trends and developments affecting policing are discussed, including the changing nature of the nation state, insecurity and the ‘risk society’. The chapter will then cover the rise of private security or the ‘re-birth’ of private security as an outcome of the factors discussed earlier in the chapter and describe how changing property relations have served as drivers for the growth of the private security industry. The commodification of policing is presented as an effect of this interplay. Prior to engaging in a discussion of the broad trends which have affected the structure of policing, it is important to define what is meant by the term policing.

What Is Policing?

Policing is a complex concept. As Johnston (1999: 176-177) explains, ‘One of the major areas of contention within policing research has been the tendency to conflate policing (a social function) with police (a specific body of personnel)’. Moreover, the functions constituting policing are constantly changing. For example, in England before the middle of the eighteenth century, policing encompassed the regulation of government, morals and economy (Johnston 1992). Thereafter the term policing was associated with order maintenance and crime control. Then from 1829 onwards, the emphasis shifted to the police, the newly created body of personnel to enforce formal social control in Britain. The consequence of this is that scholars have become preoccupied with examining the role and functions of public police forces and neglected to address the wide range of bodies engaged in the social function of policing.

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Policing has been conceptualised in a variety of ways to take into account the diversity of functions, goals and agencies involved. In her review of the literature Wakefield (2003) identifies a series of definitions including: policing as a regulatory process (Bittner, 1974), policing as a set of core activities (Reiner, 1997), policing as order maintenance (Shearing 1992; Shearing and Stenning, 1987), and most recently, policing as governance (Johnston and Shearing 2002; Kempa, Carrier, Wood and Shearing, 1999). In particular, Shearing (1992: 426) sees policing as a form of ‘networked nodal governance’ – ‘a complex of interlaced systems of agencies which work together to produce order’. A useful definition of policing which will be adopted in this thesis is due to Reiner (2000:1-2):

Police refers to a particular kind of social institution, while ‘policing’ implies a set of processes with specific social functions. ‘Police’ are not found in every society, and police organizations and personnel can have a variety of shifting forms. ‘Policing’, however, is arguably a necessity in any social order, which may be carried out by a number of different processes and institutional arrangements. A state-organized specialist ‘police’ organization of the modern kind is only one example of policing.

This definition is useful for discussing global trends in contemporary policing because it clearly distinguishes between the ‘police’ and ‘policing’. The definition allows that public police as well as other bodies form part of a network of social control.

The Rise of the ‘Policing Market’

There are two broad areas of change affecting the policing landscape in Western democratic countries such as Australia and England: one is the reform of the police as an institution and the other is the pluralisation of policing. The introduction of ‘new accountability’ measures and the influence of New Public Management (NPM) philosophies have altered policing. As Chan (1999: 254) explains:

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The new accountability embraces a theory that public institutions have failed the tests of effectiveness and efficiency, and to correct this deficiency, they need to not only adopt the managerial techniques and administrative structures of private for-profit corporations, but also be subject to competition under market or quasi-market conditions.

Application of NPM to public sector institutions such as the police has resulted in flattened management structures , decentralised budgets, ‘dual labour’ markets (employing both core and peripheral workers) and customer oriented work cultures (Johnston, 1999; O’Malley and Palmer, 1996). These changes have affected the functions assigned to police, as well as encouraged the notion that the police provide the public with a service that is highly marketable. Transforming the police into an organisation that provides a service which must be effective and competitive has led to the selling of specific ‘policing services’, such as the practice of hiring out police officers to events organised by private organisations such as concerts, rallies and sporting events.

A second factor to consider in the transformation of the modern policing landscape is the pluralisation of policing. The demand for policing services generated by the ‘responsibilised’ (O’Malley and Hutchinson, 2007) citizen exceeds the resources of the public police. As citizens perceive the inadequacy of the state to protect them, citizens take on the responsibility for protecting themselves from becoming victims of crime by turning to the resources of the private security industry. For example, the reponsibilised citizen installs a home alarm system and hires private security to monitor and respond to it. This development has been encouraged by the state in its adoption of New Right Realism, administrative criminology and concern with target hardening.

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The tension between supply and demand allows other agencies to enter the policing market to meet the demand, this results in the fragmentation (Button, 2003), pluralisation (Johnston, 2000c) or ‘multilateralisation’ (Bayley and Shearing, 2001) of policing. In discussing the pluralisation of policing, researchers have paid particular attention to the presence of private sector providers in areas of activity which have typically been associated with the public police. These include the patrolling of public streets and neighbourhoods and the enforcement of parking and traffic infringements.

The private security sector is estimated to be at least twice the size of the public police service in most Western countries. The private security industry is growing rapidly, both in terms of technology such as closed circuit television (CCTV) and alarm systems, but also in terms of the number of workers. Moreover, within many countries there are agencies engaged in policing that are neither private (commercial) nor public/state providers. Examples include: the establishment of ‘local municipal police’ in France (Wollman, 2004) and ‘city guards’ in the Netherlands (Das, Huberts, and van Steden, 2007). Herbert (1999) observes that although the private security industry outnumbers public police in terms of human and financial resources, private security often performs trivial roles. Regardless of the debates, commentators generally agree that the state’s role is altering and that one of its consequences has been the growth of the private security industry (Bryett, 1994; Button, 2002; Wakefield, 2003).

Defining the Market

Having shown in the previous two sections that contemporary policing is both about the types of activities defined as policing and the diverse actors that undertake such activities, it is now important to explain the impact of pluralisation on policing as a marketable good. The notion of the policing market is now considered. According to Sowell (2008) a ‘market’ is composed of any group of transactions or business dealings between buyers and sellers. A market implies the trading of a particular good with a certain degree of regularity and 15 | P a g e

regulation and in which a certain amount of competition is evident. Markets arise whenever groups of buyers and sellers interact, and allow the operation of the economic principle of supply and demand. Supply refers to the quantity of a good that producers/providers are willing to sell/provide at a given price, while demand is the quantity of a good that consumers are not only willing to purchase but also have the capacity to buy at the given price (Sowell, 2008). Therefore, supply and demand influence pricing within markets.

The policing market is conceptualised in this thesis as the trading of policing services such as crime prevention, crime control and order maintenance, with potential buyers. Buyers may include private citizens, event managers, clubs, religious organisations, rally organisers and film studios. Within the policing market, public/state police are but one of many suppliers and are in competition with other suppliers such as security companies. In addition, certain policing functions or services such as public order maintenance, investigations and community patrols have emerged as micro-markets. In a globalised market, policing services are not only sold in one locality but can also be national and international. An example of this is the combined policing efforts at the 2006 FIFA World Cup, hosted by Germany. This large- scale event exemplifies the demand for policing, not only in terms of the control of hooliganism, but also the threats of terrorism and breaches of information security. The arrival of seven million visitors in Germany for the event meant that German police forces were overstretched. The result was a massive security initiative that not only involved approximately 12 000 private security personnel in addition to German public/state police forces, but also 323 police officers from 13 European countries working in Germany. These international policing agents were deployed both in uniform and plain clothes, as ‘spotters’. Rafal Wasiak, who was the spokesperson for the Polish delegation, described the joint policing effort as follows: ‘We will have mixed patrols, and our police officers will in fact have the same authority and responsibility as the Germans.’ (Furlong, 2006). While major public events of international importance such as the World Cup are of limited duration, they do illustrate the policing market as one that transcends locality and national borders.

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The Changing Nature of the Nation State

The following discussion of the transition into modernity and its effects on the nation state, with consideration to the weakening of the nation state, and the impact of globalization on cross border collaborations in policing draws heavily on the analysis in Wakefield (2003) Selling Security.

As Wakefield (2003) rightly identifies, we have made a transition from the modern period as described by Marx, Weber and Durkheim to a ‘postmodern’ (Lyotard, 1994), ‘high modern’ (Giddens, 1990), ‘reflexive modern’ (Beck, 1992) or ‘late modern’ (Johnston, 2000a) era1. Accordingly Wakefield (2003), comments that for Giddens this process of transition in society is characterised by a ‘split into a multitude of contexts of action and forms of authority’ (1992:21-22). As a result, ‘the nation state declines in importance and the cohesive totality is replaced by a multiplicity of sites of social reproduction’ (Giddens, 1992:21-22). Therefore it is argued that the sovereignty of the state, its power and authority are readily challenged (Button, 2002). Several authors have written about the ‘limits of the territorial nation-state’, ‘the hollowing out of the nation-state’, and the ‘retreat of the state’ (Garland, 1996; Jessop, 1993; Strange, 1996).

Wakefield (2003) comments that authors arguing the weakening of the nation state thesis rely heavily on the process of ‘globalisation’ to illustrate the declining role of the nation state in contemporary social life. Globalisation is characterised by the ‘shrinking’ of the world— enhanced global flows of capital, population movements, and information, as well the increase in transnational crime (George & Wilding, 2002). Consequently, we supposedly come to experience the world as borderless. Given the blurring of national and international

1 The debate as to whether society has moved from the modern and into a new phase of society is beyond the aims of this thesis. However, the term ‘late modern’ is preferred here because as several authors have argued it is the most generic explanation of the changes taking place and includes several aspects of the alternative approaches (Johnston, 2000b; Wakefield, 2003).

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boundaries, Wakefield (2003) argues that the issue of security becomes increasingly important and difficult to accomplish, requiring increased inter-state cooperation. Accordingly, as Button (2002) and Wakefield (2003) contend, states have developed alliances which have significantly altered the nature of the nation-state. This is illustrated in numerous circumstances. For example, members of the European Union are required to follow decisions and regulations made in Brussels. Similarly states are often subject to the regulations and decisions of the United Nations (UN). Iraq having to subject its public buildings to UN Security Council inspections over several years is a clear example (Button, 2002). Thus globalisation has had a significant impact on the sovereignty of nation-states.

Policing has not escaped the trend in cross-border collaboration (Johnston, 2000c). For instance, Button (2002) argues that there currently exists a growing global private security market comprised of several large companies operating on an international basis, including Group 4 Securicor (G4S) which operates in over 100 countries and employ 600, 000 people worldwide (Group 4 Securicor, 2010). Garland (1996) attributes the expansion of private security and the global demand for its services to the inability of the modern state to address ‘fear of crime’ and the perception of increasing crime rates:

… the perceived normality of high crime rates, together with the widely acknowledged limitations of criminal justice agencies, have begun to erode one of the founding myths of modern societies: namely that the sovereign state is capable of providing security, law and order, and crime control within its territorial boundaries (Garland, 1996:448).

Herbert (1999) has argued that the development and engagement of private security, non- state organisations and individuals in policing does not diminish the role of the state but rather lends support to the state’s policing service.

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Insecurity and the ‘Risk Society’

It is now commonplace for social theorists to argue that we live in a ‘risk society’ (Beck, 1992). Beck (1992), who fashioned the phrase, argues that risk is a central component of modernity. For Beck (1992: 19) the ‘paradigm of risk society’ is focused on the means of ‘preventing’ and ‘minimising’ the systematic risks and hazards which are products of modernity, making modernisation a ‘reflexive’ process. Johnston (2000a) explains that ‘risks’ range from apprehension about the food we eat, to environmental disasters and the risk of being assaulted or robbed. Consequently, we are increasingly focused on finding ways to reduce ‘risk’. As fear of crime increases, Australians and citizens living in other developed countries are becoming more and more anxious about protecting themselves and their property (Button, 2002, Button, 2003; Reynolds & Wilson, 1996). Individuals and organisations in contemporary society are overly concerned with ‘avoiding the worst’ (Giddens, 1990: 21).

Society’s increasing concern with risk has been linked to the development and growth of private security. Button (2002) describes how the ‘risk society’ and its preoccupation with risk reduction encourage the growth of the private security industry. For instance, worries of crime risk lead people to hire private security to patrol residential areas. Individuals afraid of being robbed purchase house alarms or are made to do so as conditions of insurance policies and have private security companies respond to them. Similarly, one could argue that concern over the risk of disorder at sporting events has resulted in British football clubs adopting a policy of higher profile stewarding to prevent disorder (Frosdick and Sidney, 1996).

Garland (1996) observes that it is the perception of increasing crime rates which contributes to the notion that the state is unable to maintain order and security. However, both Australian (Chilvers, 1996; Weatherburn and Indermaur, 2004) and overseas research (Besserer and Trainor, 2000; Warr, 1995) suggest that public perception of crime rates is often distorted by insecurity and fear of crime. Weatherburn and Indermaur (2004) interviewed

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people in Western Australia and New South Wales about their perception of crime and found that most people believed that crime rates were increasing regardless of the actual situation. In 2007 the Australian Survey of Social Attitudes (AuSSA) showed that 89.3% of those surveyed believed crime had increased or remained stable in the previous two years, yet actual victimisation figures showed an overall decline in most offence categories (Roberts and Indermaur, 2009). The Australian Bureau of Statistics (2010: 10) reported that property crimes continued a decline trend in victimisation. Motor vehicle theft (284 victims per 100,000 persons) had the lowest rate in 2009 since national reporting began in 1993. The victimisation rate for unlawful entry with intent also continued to decrease, with the rate of 1, 031 victims per 100,000 persons in 2009. The 2009 victimisation rate for ‘other theft’ was also the lowest in the last ten year period (2, 154 victims per 100, 000 persons). The exceptions were murder (1% increase), attempted murder (1% increase) and blackmail/extortion (60% increase). Therefore, the issue affecting contemporary policing is not the reality but the perception of increasing crime, and this perception feeds into the perceived inadequacy of the state to ensure security (Davis and Dossetor, 2010).

Society’s pre-occupation with risk prevention and minimisation has resulted in increased demands not only for the human resources available by way of the private security industry but also with the wide range of technological provisions readily used by the industry such as CCTV systems and burglar alarms. Nowhere else is the demand for private security to protect person and property more evident than in communal spaces (Kempa et al., 2004) such as areas of ‘mass private property’ (Shearing and Stenning, 1983).

The ‘Re-birth’ of Private Security

Beginning with work from Canada and the United States (Shearing and Stenning, 1981; Spitzer and Scull, 1977) and later in the UK (South, 1988; Johnston, 1992, Button, 2003) and Australia (Sarre and Prenzler, 2000), enormous attention has been paid to the growth of private security. However, most of this work is normative and theoretical in nature (Johnston,

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1992; Loader, 1997). Estimations of the size of the private security industry are notoriously difficult to make, largely because of the lack of official data and complexities in defining the extent of the industry itself (De Waard, 1999; Jones and Newburn, 1998). Nevertheless, limited information is available and though it should be taken with caution, the data lend support to Bayley and Shearing’s (2001) claim that the changing structure of the policing market is not an isolated phenomenon but rather a global shift.

De Waard (1999) conducted a study into the size of the private security industry in 15 European Union (EU) countries and 12 other countries using European Commission labour force statistics for 1996. The author found that within the EU almost 600,000 people were engaged in the private security sector, 75% of whom worked with private security firms whilst the rest worked in an in-house role. De Waard (1999) estimated that there were 160 private security personnel per 100,000 population. In comparison there were 375 police per 100,000 population. Hence, in 1996 public police outnumbered private security by approximately 2:1 in the EU. However, within the EU, Great Britain, Germany, Luxembourg, Denmark and Sweden boasted the largest private security industries. In Britain, the number of personnel involved in the private security industry surpassed the number of public police officers, 275 private security personnel were employed per 100,000 of its population. Outside the EU, De Waard found that South Africa was well in the lead worldwide with a private security industry valued at 6 billion Rand, employing 363,928 registered security guards. The South African security industry is reported as being three times larger than the South African Police Service. The United States, Australia (with 92,583 private security employees compared to 51, 486 public police officers in 1999), Bulgaria and Canada also held high positions within the global private security markets (De Waard, 1999). In a second study surveying the state of the private security industry in the EU, van Steden and Sarre (2007) reported that the private security industry in the region had grown to over one million by 2004.

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In 2001 the British Security Industry Association (BSIA) estimated that there were 8,000 security companies, approximately 350,000 people working in the private security industry, and were over 125,000 security officers in the UK (BSIA, 2001). However, as these figures represent only members of the BSIA, they underestimate the extent of the private security industry as only two-thirds of the industry is represented by the BSIA (Crawford and Lister, 2004). Furthermore, a recent global review of crime and security (van Dijk, 2008) estimates that: ‘worldwide, more people are employed as security officers (348 per 100 000) than as police officers (318 per 100 000)’.

Trends in the Australian private security market from 1996 to 2006 were presented by Prenzler, Earle and Sarre (2009) who used data from several sources, including the 2006 Australian Census, Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS) Business Register, the various State and Territory licensing agencies and IBISWorld (a forecasting and information firm) to try to estimate changes in the size of the private security industry at a national level. Using the catch-all category of ‘security providers’ versus public police, Prenzler, Earle and Sarre (2009) report that the total number of individuals directly employed in security work in 2006 was 52,568, compared with 44,898 public police in the same year, whereas in 1996 police outnumbered private security. Prenzler et al. (2009) also used ABS Business Register data to assess trends in the Australian private security industry by examining the number of businesses registered as engaging in security and investigative business nationally. In July 2006, 5,478 businesses were registered as such with 35% having a turnover of $50,000- 200,000 and 5% $2million and over (ABS, 2007).

These figures support the argument that, in what appears to be a very short period of time, the private security industry as a whole has grown substantially. This growth is not limited to one or two jurisdictions, it is a global shift. The rise of private security can be explained as an outcome of the transition to modernity, coupled with a heightened sense of ‘risk’. It is this social transition that has lead to an increased demand for security. The exact level of demand

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is unknown. Available data are limited and the work of De Waard (1999) and others provides some idea of the size of the private security industry, but at best these figures can only be viewed as informed estimates. From empirical studies it can be deduced that growing areas for the private security industry have been the provision of residential patrols (Crawford and Lister, 2004), order maintenance in areas of communal spaces including areas of mass private property such as shopping centres (Wakefield, 2003), stadiums (O’Neill, 2004), leisure parks and airports. Johnston (1992) contends that this pervasive growth is not the birth of a new provider but rather the ‘re-birth’ of an industry that as previously mentioned has been in operation in Britain even prior to the inception of the public police. The size of the industry makes it a formidable competitor in the policing market.

The increased use of private security in the policing of sporting venues is an example of the growth of private security services. Jarman and Bryan (2000) report that stewards or private security personnel play a significant role in managing public safety in the UK during carnivals (e.g. Notting Hill), protests, commemorative rallies and football matches. In particular, stewards are highly visible and outnumber the public police at Premier League football matches. This arrangement came about as the continuing problems with spectator violence in England and Scotland from the late 1960s onwards resulted in an increased police presence at football matches. By the 1980s, the persistence of hooliganism and high-profile disasters, leading to serious injuries and deaths to spectators, such as the events at Bradford and Hillsborough, resulted in government inquiries (Popplewell, 1986, Taylor, 1990). Taylor (1990) in particular highlighted the potential effectiveness of quality stewarding to improve crowd safety. Moreover, economic management of public police resources led to an increase in costs for football clubs hiring police officers for order maintenance duties (Armstrong, 1998). The implementation of a user-pays policy by police forces in England encouraged football clubs to take further responsibility for order maintenance during matches and in their stadiums. As a consequence, clubs sought more cost- effective ways of staffing their ground with crowd safety personnel provided by subcontractors (private security firms) or by training their own club stewards (Jarman and Bryan, 2000).

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Although there is some concern regarding the quality of stewards and the standards of training (Garland and Rowe, 1999), private stewarding is increasingly acknowledged as the most appropriate means of order maintenance at football and other sporting venues. Leeds United is an example of a British football club which has developed a comprehensive private stewarding system. For instance, at a Premier League game attracting approximately 40, 000 spectators they employ 500 stewards: 300 are employed by the club on a regular basis, the remainder are provided from a private security firm which considers itself an event stewarding specialist firm. This arrangement results in a minimal police presence, however the public police are still responsible for traffic management and crowd flow around the periphery of the stadium (Jarman and Bryan, 2000). The increased presence of private security personnel in public order policing at football matches can best be understood by the notion of ‘commodification.’

Changes in Property Relations

Changing property relations have served as a driving force for the ever expanding security industry. In the 1980s, Shearing and Stenning (1981; 1983) attempted to account for the growth of the private security industry through the concept of ‘mass private property’. The central premise was that there had been important changes in the nature of property relations in the urban context especially. Shearing and Stenning hypothesised that these changes had resulted in the surge of environments that were conducive to forms of private policing. As initially conceptualised, mass private property referred to privately owned spaces—for example, shopping malls, sporting venues and theme parks—controlled by a small number of corporate interests but which nevertheless generally opened to the public and in many instances these spaces are highly dependent on public visits (Shearing and Stenning, 1981). Of major concern to Shearing and Stenning was the difference between the legal definition of ownership of property and its intended use/expectations of access: ownership law allowed landlords to make rules and regulations regarding the use of spaces that were typically not opened to the public, yet in the contemporary context the powers

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conferred on owners of these spaces were increasingly being applied even though the spaces are now being readily accessed by the public (Anand, 1987).

As Button (2003) and Shearing and Stenning (1983) argue, the increased presence of publicly accessible mass private property in the form of shopping centres, airports, and leisure parks – which are often policed by private security – has significantly raised the profile of the private security industry as a major component of modern policing. Such a pattern in urban development produces a variety of social orders and illustrates the way in which policing as a social phenomenon is interrelated to the organisation and use of space (Wakefield, 2003).

The suitability of the phrase mass private property for describing the property developments and urban landscape in Britain has been disputed by Jones and Newburn (1998) who rightly argue that many of the examples of mass private property, such as hospitals and airports, presented by Shearing and Stenning (1983) are not always under private ownership. However, changes are occurring as government privatisation policies gather steam. Furthermore, it is argued that under English law, property ownership rights are the same regardless of private or state ownership of space (Wakefield, 2003). The same is true of property ownership in Australia, where the public while spending time on property under state ownership, such as airports, universities and stadiums, are required to adhere to the specific by-laws regulating behaviour at the site. This arrangement gives private security personnel control of conditions of access and power to exclude those members of the public not meeting the requirements of their clients. This raises civil liberties issues as private security personnel may exclude young people or the homeless from accessing areas of ‘mass private property’ such as shopping centres (Prenzler, 2000).

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As a response to the criticisms of the conceptualisation of mass private property, Kempa et al. (2004) re-conceptualised their ideas into the term communal spaces. Borrowing from urban geography Kempa et al. (2004: 570) use the term communal spaces to refer to ‘a range – or continuum – of property forms that are, to a greater or lesser degree, open to the public and under state and/or non-state control.’ Following this definition, mass private property becomes one form of communal space. To determine where on the continuum a form of space can be situated, Jones and Newburn (1998:51) suggest the following questions be asked:

 Who has (routine) access to the space?  Who owns the space?  What kinds of controls prevent/allow people access to the space? (e.g. predominantly physical controls (gates, bars etc.), or informal controls and signals?)

Kempa et al., (2004: 570) then add:

 Who has been given or has otherwise assumed the capacity and authority to define the orders that are enforced in these spaces?

Applying these results in a continuum where certain spaces are in essence ‘public’ because they are under state ownership and members of the public can expect access with the protection of legal rights. Public spaces (e.g. public squares) are generally policed by public police but also private security. In the middle of the continuum we find privately owned and privately policed spaces which members of the public can get access to as long as they subject themselves to certain private standards, that often override legal protections and result in their forgoing civil liberty rights to enter (e.g. accepting search as condition of entry to stadium). Mass private property is an example of this form of communal space. At the other end of the continuum are communal spaces that are privately owned and privately policed, and are closed to the general public and open to exclusive membership: members

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must submit to contractual agreements that are elaborate and intrusive and override individual civil liberties. Examples of these include shared grounds and facilities within gated residential communities (Kempa et al., 2004).

The growth of communal spaces such as mass private property, in the form of shopping centres in particular, across America, Australia and Britain, has been linked by several commentators with the pervasive growth of the private security industry. They argue that changes in property relations often reflect changes in nodal policing more widely (Reynolds & Wilson, 1996; Shearing & Stenning, 1983; Wakefield, 2003; Kempa et al., 2004). Wakefield (2003: 20) asserts that many of the features of mass private property such as safe and plentiful parking areas, high levels of order and cleanliness combined with the constant presence of private security personnel ‘act as signs of safety and security, demonstrating high levels of control and supervision of the premises, and serving to promote the ontological security of the users as an aid to commercial gains’. Hence, increases in mass private property and other forms of communal spaces stimulate and serve as drivers for the plural policing market through greater demand for private security personnel.

Having presented the transitional global trends affecting the plural policing market, I will now identify the way that plural policing partnerships have been conceptualised and present findings from the few empirical studies that have examined the nature of plural policing networks. Special attention will be given to plural policing networks in the context of events policing.

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The Commodification and Redistribution of Policing Services

The discussion on the increased presence of private security at football matches has shown that the current policing market is not generated by external social factors alone. Indeed, the rise of private security at football matches is a direct result of the public police’s decision to begin charging for a service which they had previously provided free of charge. For example, Australian police services have administered user-pays arrangements in accordance with government policy for more than a decade. This principle was accepted nationally, in 1995 through the Australasian Police Ministers’ Council, in the document titled Principles for The Application of User Pays for Police Services.

Accordingly, the NSW Police Force Cost Recovery and User Charges Policy (2010:4) states the reason for the introduction of a fee for what had previously been a free service:

The broad objective of this policy is to assist in achieving efficient, effective and equitable use of scarce public resources. Cost recovery charges place the onus for a payment for the service on the beneficiary rather than the supplier of the service. Under this policy, costs of policing special events or providing other services are passed on to those who derive commercial and other benefits from the services provided.

In addition, the introduction of this policy has generated a range of different services provided by the police, which are now chargeable and therefore marketable. These include not only the provision of crowd and traffic control staff, but also probity checks for government and non-government agencies to check the background of employees and for the issuing of visas, security industry licensing services, technical and forensic services, the provision of photography and photogrammetric services, and wardrobe and props services to the film, television, advertising and media industries. Police may also charge for attendance for false alarms: under the New South Wales Police Act 1990, police may charge $200 for attending false security alarms at non-residential premises, if there has been more than one

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false alarm within a 28-day period. Similarly in the UK, changes in legislation allow police forces to have a greater degree of commercial freedom when selling policing services. The basis for UK police to charge more widely for policing goods and services is found under s 9 of the Police and Magistrate’s Courts Act 1994 – the contracting of police officers’ time is the most common use of this legislation.

Policies such as these have generated markets that previously may not have existed. For instance, in the case of public order policing at football matches, private security providers were able to offer comprehensive and cost-effective services (in New South Wales, an estimated $40 per hour for security staff in contrast to $79 per hour for police deployed to special events such as concerts, festivals, and sporting events) in a market created by police. One could argue more forcefully that a major reason public police still hold a share in the public order policing market is that their presence at major public events is a legislated requirement. For example in Australia, several jurisdictions, including New South Wales, clearly stipulate in their user-pays policing policy that responsibility for assessment of policing requirements for events ultimately rests with the police. Event organisers are ‘to accept police advice’ regarding the level of police presence needed at any given event (NSW Police Force 2010: para 5.4). Grabosky and Ayling (2007: 20) refer to this as ‘coercion in sales by police’. Therefore by means of conferred coercive power (through legislative and policy measures) public police are able to ensure a share in the events policing market that organisers cannot escape. Grabosky and Ayling (2007: 20) explain that ‘under these circumstances, if the event is to take place, the promoter has no choice but to purchase the service. No fee, no event.

Similarly, Michael Buerger and Lorraine Mazerolle (1998: 301) adopt the concept of ‘third party policing’ to refer to police efforts to ‘persuade or coerce’ third parties such as landlords and business owners to take some responsibility for crime prevention. This concept can be linked to Crawford and Lister’s (2004: 416) discussion on the ‘pluralisation of responsibility’:

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‘Organisations, communities and individuals who previously saw crime control and prevention as the sole responsibility of the police and penal system have been encouraged into a new involvement in matters of crime and disorder’. Governmental strategies of responsibilisation (Garland, 2001) have motivated the development of the plural policing market. Both in Australia and the UK, the responsibility has been imposed upon certain collectivities by legislation or formal/informal partnership agreements. For instance, the Home Office contends that the responsibility for prosecuting certain types of shoplifting offences should be placed on shop owners. Also, a greater burden of the costs incurred in the policing of premises and events should be shouldered by commercial organisations (PA Consulting, 2001: 18; cf. Crawford and Lister, 2004: 416). In the UK, just like in Australia, clubs, bars and sporting venues have, as a condition of their licence, the responsibility for providing appropriate crowd safety measures. This transfer of responsibility for crime control and prevention leads to a coerced demand for policing services by the responsibilised citizen. The demand is so significant that public police cannot meet it (and may not even want to do so) and this opens the way for private security.

Ayling (2007) argues that public police are able to ‘engineer the market’ to their advantage using commodification. The user-pays police policy in Victoria is presented as an example. Just like in New South Wales, the user-pays police policy in Victoria has as its expressed purpose a ‘cost recovery’ function, yet other objectives also play a role. According to Ayling (2007), Victorian Police’s user-pays policy has another key objective, to responsibilise (O’Malley and Palmer, 1996) event organisers so that they will manage their events in a manner that removes strain on public police resources. Public police achieve the reponsibilisation process by educating event organisers through extensive risk assessments and discussions with event organisers regarding the optimal way to ensure a secure event (Ayling, 2007). Additionally, the public police use financial incentives, such as the employment of waivers for recurring events, to reward organisers who learn how to manage a safe event without heavily depending on public police, the objective being that the event should, with time, become self- regulating (Ayling, 2007). Hence, public police’s introduction

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of user-charges and waivers for these charges could be seen as mechanisms adopted by the public police to manage risk and reduce costs (Garland, 2001).

The transformation of public services, particularly policing through ‘commodification’ and NPM strategies stimulates the new plural policing market as police forces are encouraged to outsource parts of their non-essential policing services (‘ancillary tasks’) to a more efficient provider (Newburn, 2001). Typically, the new providers are private or operated by local governments. As Newburn (2001) explains, ‘civilianization’ is an attractive option with civilian staff calculated to be half the cost of sworn police officers. However, as Crawford and Lister (2004) contend, the managerial reforms and the ‘commodification’ of policing have allowed or led to the fragmentation or pluralisation of service providers and thus encouraged the trend of plural policing markets.

Plural Policing Networks

This section engages with insights from several bodies of work in an attempt to explore the changing nature of policing and security. The discussion includes a consideration of: conceptions of plural policing networks (Sarre and Prenzler, 2000 and Crawford, 2006), public-private relationships in practice, the role of occupational culture in affecting the nature of partnership policing and finally, consideration is given to public perceptions and experiences. In understanding the nature of plural policing networks it is important to first consider the various ways in which these networks have been conceptualised. In particular the seven models developed by Australian criminologists Rick Sarre and Tim Prenzler (2000) are compared and contrasted with the five models developed by English criminologist Adam Crawford (2006). This section shows the complexities inherent in attempting to map out emerging phenomena.

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Conceptual Models

In policing research, the public-private relationship has been conceptualised in numerous ways with very little consensus on the issue. The ‘junior partner’ model is one of these models. Kakalik and Wildhorn (1977) argue that a harmonious partnership exists in which private security is very much the ‘lesser’ or ‘junior’ entity of the two. Central to this model is the contention that the private security sector is happy to serve as a back-up or supplement to the role of the public police service (Wakefield, 2003). On the other hand, the pluralist framework argues that police and private security are entities within a pluralist policing environment in which security providers collaborate and co-ordinate with each other as well as with the state’s police service as individual and relatively autonomous entities (Shearing and Stenning, 1983). Similarly, Ericson’s security quilt (1994: 153) analogy concedes that in terms of services, knowledge and resources, both the public and private providers make distinct and necessary contributions to policing as we understand it today. Ericson (1994: 153) has argued, ‘It is their unique contribution to the security quilt that gives each institution its legitimacy as an aspect of government’.

Australian criminologists Rick Sarre and Tim Prenzler (2000) reviewed the historical and contemporary literature on private security and policing, and identified seven models plus an ‘ideal’ to describe the dynamics of the public-private relationship. The first is ‘the property model’ characterised by limited interaction between the two as the agencies are separated by property boundaries, namely police are involved with policing public spaces and private security with policing private land. However, changes in property relations blur the boundary between public and private space. As discussed previously the increases in communal spaces (Kempa et al., 2004) has resulted in pluralised policing networks or systems that incorporate both police and private security as part of the security quilt that exercises governance within these sites.

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The second model described by the authors is the ‘division of labour model’. According to this framework, the dividing line between the two sectors is ‘one of method’. Thus public police engage in policing through prosecution and emergency responses to, for example, public disorder, while private security engages in policing through a ‘preventative presence’, and use of environmental design (Sarre and Prenzler, 2000).

A third approach identified by the authors is ‘the competing forces model’. In this model the two sectors are seen as having very similar functions and consequently are in competition with each other over a share of the policing market. Sarre and Prenzler (2000) claim that any bad blood between the public and private sector ‘centres on incompatible ideologies’, with the police arguing that they embody democratic distribution and provision of policing services coupled with professionalism. The police portray their competitors as comprised of poorly trained and unprofessional personnel prone to abusing their position of power to serve a monetary gain. Similarly, private security highlight the police’s alleged propensity to corruption while simultaneously arguing that the private security industry can provide more efficient and cost-effective security measures.

Sarre and Prenzler’s (2000) ‘supplementary service’ model is very similar to Kakalik and Wildhorn’s (1977) junior partner conceptualisation of the relationship between the public and private policing agencies. Sarre and Prenzler (2000) argue that both sectors operate in the same policing market but the public sector has superiority because the police have additional powers provided by the state through legislation. Consequently, the role of the private sector is to supplement the work of the state’s policing body. The subordination of private security in Australia and across other developed nations is visible in the fact that the security industry is often regulated by the police. For example in Australia, the private security industry is under the jurisdiction of the States and Territories: the police regulate the private security industry in four of the seven jurisdictions.

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The ‘ad hoc partnership’ model identified by Sarre and Prenzler (2000) conceptualises the relationship between the public and private policing sectors as one of convenience. The two sectors work co-operatively and combine efforts, but only in a temporary arrangement, in response to specific problems. Each entity recognises the need that it has for the other. For instance, public police combine their law enforcement efforts with the surveillance capacity of private security to tackle specific policing problems. According to Sarre and Prenzler (2000: 96), these partnerships are ‘localised geographically or in terms of specific problems. When the crisis or event is over, the formal relationships become redundant’.

A final model identified by Sarre and Prenzler (2000) is the ‘combined forces’ model. Under this model the private and public policing sectors are seen as highly co-operative and the relationship between the two as ‘symbiotic’. The model’s central argument is that long lasting connections can be made between police and security personnel both at the managerial and operational levels, with the sharing of intelligence and open communication channels illustrating recognition of each other’s ability to contribute to the crime solution.

Crawford (2006:19) uses the concepts of ‘networked’ or ‘nodal’ governance (Johnston and Shearing, 2003 and Shearing and Wood, 2003) and the notion of ‘smart’ or ‘responsive regulation’ (Gunningham and Grabosky, 1998 and Braithwaite, 2002) to develop five models for thinking about the relationships that exist between the police and other forms of policing in the UK. The five models as described by Crawford (2006) are:

 A monopolistic model – within this conception forms of policing (including private security) are incorporated into the existing police organisational structure. Crawford (2006) identifies the expansion of Community Support Officers (CSOs) as illustrating the practical function of this model.

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 A steering model – Crawford (2005: 19) describes this model as the police attempting to ‘govern at a distance’. Control over accreditation of other forms of policing is presented as the state police controlling the policing landscape from a distance.  A networked or nodal model – according to this model plural policing providers form ‘horizontal’ partnerships and there is a degree of co-ordination between the police and other forms of policing. Sarre and Prenzler’s supplementary service model, ad hoc partnership model and combined forces model could be categorised as sub sections of Crawford’s ‘networked or nodal’ model because they each represent a description of partnerships with varying degrees of co-operation. The variation is determined by the duration of the co-production of order (ad hoc partnerships) or by perceptions and attitudes that one group holds of the other (supplementary service and combined forces). This model is similar to Sarre and Prenzler’s (2000) ‘Supplementary service model’. Both of these models present other forms of policing outside the police as serving the role of ‘junior partner’ (Cunningham and Taylor, 1985 and Kakalik and Wildhorn’s, 1977).  A market model – similarly to the ‘competing forces’ model by Sarre and Prenzler, Crawford (2006) explains that under a market model relations between policing providers is structured around competition. Conflict is likely to characterise a plural policing network functioning under a marker model.  A private government model – for Crawford this model exists where the state police has either been excluded or where the police has relinquished authority but is still able to re-enter the scene when invited or ‘called upon’. This is not an aspect considered by Sarre and Prenzler in their models.

As the description of each set of models has shown, there is a significant amount of overlap between the authors’ conceptions. This could be due to the fact that both countries have been subjected to similar social transitions (i.e. the transition to modernity, the effects of perceived heightened levels of ‘risk’, increases in communal and quasi-public spaces) resulting in similar trajectories in the commodification of policing. However, there are also

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some significant differences identified through these sets of models. Sarre and Prenzler’s (2000) models were developed specifically to understand the public/private dichotomy. In contrast, Crawford’s (2006) models were developed to explore networked governance across the broader forms of policing providers functioning in the area of community safety policing UK (as a post-regulatory state).

Therefore, Crawford’s models are not limited to the locales, roles and methods of policing employed by each form of policing but rather contribute to a wider consideration of the diversity of networks that could potentially exist. However, reporting on the empirical evidence of his research, Crawford (2006:19) states that: ‘The research found examples of all these models, sometimes co-existing in more-or-less awkward relations, forming a complex mosaic.’ Similarly, Skinns (2009) in her study of the experiences of request and access to legal advice for detainees in police custody found support for Crawford’s (2006) ‘monopolistic model’ and ‘steering model’ within the delimited space of privatised custody suites. Skinns found that ‘the monopolistic model’, where different forms of policing are integrated into the already established police hierarchy, was useful in understanding police-civilian relationships in Sunnyside (a privatised custody suite). Then when examining the nature of the relation between Police Community Support officer (PCSOs) and the police, she found that the better fit was Crawford’s models steering model, where the police seek to govern auxiliary forms of policing at ‘arm’s length’. Thus, empirical studies have shown that in practice ‘security networks’ (regardless of context) can be composed of more than one model co-existing and applicable to different components of the network.

Public-Private Relationships in Practice

Empirical studies concerned with the nature and quality of plural policing networks in practice are divided into two groups: those that report conflict and distrust between the police and private security and those that show the potential for positive and co-operative partnerships between the two. Although very little empirical work in policing research has 36 | P a g e

been concerned with investigating the perceptions that personnel in each sector have towards the other, it is clear from the literature that historically the public police held a patronising, negative and even antagonistic attitude towards their private security counterparts (Clifford 1983; Cunningham and Taylor, 1985). Swanton (1993: 2) found that Australian police had an engrained view that ‘protection of persons, property and public order are (sic) a police preserve’. Likewise, in 1977 a survey by the United States Private Security Advisory Council (USPSAC) identified that a co-operative relationship between public police and the private security industry was not possible because of many reasons including: a lack of mutual respect, negative stereotypes, status differentials, and mutual perceptions of corruption, poor communications and inadequate standards in the training of private security personnel.

Further evidence of hostility between the public police and private security was found in the publication of The Hallcrest Report in 1985. The Hallcrest Report (Cunningham and Taylor, 1985) presented findings from a national survey in the United States on the perceptions of police chiefs and security supervisors, illustrating that security supervisors rated relationships between the police and the private security industry in a positive light with most rating the relationship as good to excellent. In contrast, police tended to regard the relationship as poor to good. Nalla and Hoffman (1996a) conducted a study in Singapore to investigate the public- private policing relationship using a survey as their instrument. The findings revealed that 71% of a sample of 271 Singaporean security officers agreed or strongly agreed with the assertion ‘Security guards have a positive view of police officers’. In contrast 75% of security officers disagreed or strongly disagreed with the statement ‘Police officers generally have a positive opinion of security guards’. Additionally research from Canada (Shearing et al., 1985) has found that the police held dismissive views about the importance of security work generally. Officers’ attitudes towards private security revealed that they considered private security functions to be trivial and insignificant. The authors concluded that ‘Police tend to trivialize the significance of private security, and many of our respondents appeared to resent what they thought was an attempt to compare private security with police.’ (Shearing et al.,

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1985: 151). Findings from Jones and Newburn’s (1998) study of the relationship between the diversity of policing bodies operating in the London Borough of Wandsworth also found evidence that the activities of security companies providing security officers to the area were partially underwritten by the Metropolitan Police. These findings show that animosity between police and private security is not an isolated trend, it occurs across jurisdictions.

In spite of this, there is some empirical evidence to suggest that not all is lost in the public- private relationship: research shows that positive plural policing partnerships are characterised by open communication, jointly co-ordinated responses to crime and disorder and regular contact between police and security. For example McManus (1995), using three case studies of community patrols in England, found that at two of the sites there was a ‘regular and high quality co-operation’ between police and private security, which was due to open communication. Communications between the two agencies were conducted via radio and phone. Predominantly the communications involved intelligence sharing, with police asking security officers to look out for cars reported stolen, or for people acting suspiciously. Similarly, the local police worked with private security officers by forwarding news regarding a diversity of criminal incidents in the area (McManus, 1995). In contrast, Wakefield (2003) reported that, at the retail and leisure complex site she studied, police failed to respond to private security calls for assistance and failed to inform centre management about the outcome of criminal incidents occurring within and around the centre. This lack of communication between the police and security was a cause for tension. Hence, communication is identified in the research as important in the development of effective partnerships. Lack of communication, as shown by Wakefield (2003), results in strained relationships.

Further, co-ordinated responses to crime are possible in plural policing networks where the public-private relationship is positive. Shapland’s (1999) study of two shopping centres in England revealed that at one centre, operations against shop theft were co-ordinated

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between the security officers, police, retailers and centre management. In fact, a program had been jointly established by these groups to divert juvenile shoplifters from theft and other crimes. Police acknowledging private security as being able to make a valid contribution to policing in a diversity of territorial settings contributes to the development of positive working relationships. For example, Wakefield (2003) found evidence that when private security officers feel respected and recognized by their local police officers as making a genuine contribution to the control of both public disorder and crime, they become a valuable resource for police. One of the police officers interviewed by the researcher acknowledged his reliance on security officers, commenting that: ‘I’ve got a very good rapport with them… the majority of my success is down to them really’, meaning that ‘my arrest rate in there *the shopping centre+ is down to them.’ (Wakefield, 2003: 196). Similarly, Johnston (2003) in his study of the relationship between police and ‘community wardens’ found that although police showed some resistance to the partnership, they were able to utilise the wardens’ resources to expand surveillance and intelligence gathering. The co- operative relationship was maintained by weekly meetings between police and security representatives. At these meetings, each agency would exchange information and co- ordinate responses and solutions to crime problems.

Jones and Newburn’s (1998) study of private security and private policing in Wandsworth similarly revealed that the Metropolitan Police were engaged in working co-operatively with the private security industry, including the sharing of intelligence, police responses to private security calls for assistance, general advice and information, and the sharing of equipment and facilities. However, the authors did note that the closest working relationships were developed between the Metropolitan Police and those agencies with statutory standing.

The role of legislation in facilitating plural policing networks has also been highlighted in a recent Australian study by Palmer and Whelan (2007). The authors use the concept of communal spaces to study plural policing partnerships in the context of events policing. The

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researchers used both interviews and observational data to assess the nature of plural policing in communal spaces and concluded that legislation governing the policing of event venues plays a significant role in establishing a new framework with regards to the formation and provision of policing and security. Therefore legislation is the tool that determines both the providers of policing and the practices of policing within certain settings. For example, legislation governing communal spaces extends the range of coercive powers that can be exercised against the targets of policing. This often results in exclusionary practices (Palmer and Whelan, 2007). The authors present a series of ongoing issues in the provision and governance of policing within event venues, these include: ‘internal’ struggle over who controls the different policing forms in a location that demands a plural policing approach and tensions between the public and private policing agents regarding roles and responsibilities.

Finally, regular contact between police and security was associated with the quality of the public-private relationship. For example, in two of the three sites in Wakefield’s (2003) study, police commanders specifically assigned liaison officers to facilitate the relationship between the police and centre security. Where this was the case, the relationship was more likely to be a positive one. Contact may include police making senior staff available to security managers, regular phone calls, informal pub meetings or attendance at other social events. At one site in Wakefield’s (2003) study, contact between police and private security was facilitated by the fact that the centre manager was a former beat officer in the local police force. The following quotation from the centre manager illustrates the advantage in relating to the police inspector: ‘we’ve known each other for years and years and years… you can get a lot more done by just a quick telephone call…’ (Wakefield, 2003: 195).

The research studies cited above show that greater inter-agency co-operation can be achieved through open communication, jointly co-ordinated responses to crime and disorder and regular contact. Nevertheless, even in settings where the public-private relationship has

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been shown to be positive, at an individual level police officers do report some dissatisfaction with the working practices of some of the security officers. For example, a police officer in Wakefield’s study (2003: 194) commented: ‘The day-today staff on walkabout, perhaps through lack of experience, make more out of an incident than is necessary and could sometimes deal with problems themselves’ (Wakefield, 2003: 194). Similarly, Shapland (1999) found evidence that security officers often believed their job was simply to report crimes to police and left all responsibility for dealing with the offender to the local police.

Occupational Culture

Arguably at the core of much tension between police and security is a question over differences in occupational culture. There has been much work conducted on the occupational culture of public police (Chan, 1996; 1997; Reiner, 2000). Skolnick and Fyfe (1993: 90) define ‘police culture’ as the ‘recognizable and distinct rules, customs, perceptions, and interpretations of what they [police officers] see, along with consequent moral judgments.’ Moreover it is argued that the various components of the police culture result in the formation of the police ‘working personality’ (Skolnick, 1966). It is also important to identify the processes that lead to the manifestation of culture. Skolnick highlighted the structural factors of danger and authority. Chan (1997) drawing on Bourdieu’s work argues that cultural values emerge in the police as an interplay between the ‘field’ and the ‘habitus’. The ‘field’ is ‘…a social space of conflict and competition, where participants struggle to establish control over specific power and authority, and, in the course of the struggle, modify the structure of the field itself’ (Chan, 1996: 115). The ‘habitus’ of policing, Chan et al. (2003) explain, is a system of ‘dispositions’ that can be constituted by different types of knowledge. Within this conception police culture is neither homogenous nor static, it is constantly changing and individual officers both create and re-enforce existing cultural norms.

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In a more recent study of police occupational culture, Loftus (2009) studied an English police force and tested the relevance of the classical conception of police culture against the reordering of the policing landscape. Loftus (2009:3) concluded that ‘the underlying world view of officers displays remarkable continuity with older patterns and continues to exert considerable influence over the day-to-day police work.’ For example, results showed that the exaggerated sense of mission described by Reiner (2000:89) was still present as part of contemporary police culture, as the following extract from Loftus (2009:4) illustrates: ‘I know it sounds corny, but I really wasn’t happy with the way things were in society. People were mugged, raped, burgled and I thought I could make a difference…’ Additionally, the crime hierarchy determined what officers considered as ‘real police work’, with ‘crime fighting’ being at the top of the hierarchy and for some officers paperwork and attending incidents that contained a service element were at the bottom of the crime fighting hierarchy (Loftus, 2009). This continued aspect of police culture affected the ‘service’ element and officers experienced conflict with the re-positioning of the public as ‘customers’ in the contemporary policing landscape. Women tended to adopt a more service oriented approach to police work than their male counterpart (Loftus, 2009).

A masculine ethos was also identified by Loftus (2009) as a continuing component of police culture. Though actual dangerous encounters were rare, officers would often share stories and boast of their prowess. Loftus (2009:7) describes an incident in which a call came in requesting police presence at the local university, where over 200 drunk students had been seen out on the streets. Their presence was presented as posing a public order threat. Officers got excited and one officer was heard shouting ‘let’s go student bashing!’ while other officers joked about putting snooker balls in their gloves for ‘extra impact’. Not long after the job was cancelled and officers were markedly disappointed. Loftus (2009:7) concludes that ‘physical confrontation was revered within the rank and file culture and that these aspects of traditional conceptions of police culture remain because the police role has not changed significantly, this is attributed to ‘the occupational and organisational demands’ of doing police work.

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In comparison, relatively few studies have examined private security culture. Nevertheless, the few studies that touch on the occupational culture of security officers have served a twofold purpose. Given the infancy of this area of scholarship, the focus has been on identifying the traits that make up the occupational culture of security officers and on identifying models or ‘types’ of security officers. Rigakos (2002) and Button (2007) warn against generalisations and call for further empirical examination of security officer culture. Nonetheless they also contend that the structural sources of the cultures they describe are common enough as to be representative, allowing for variations depending on the sector and the jurisdiction.

Rigakos (2002) in his examination of Intelligarde a contract private security company based in Toronto, found that Intelligarde’s agents assume ‘parapolicing’ responsibilities, identities and attitudes. Intelligrade’s private parapolicing functions included: clearing crack houses, and processing evictions, as well as making arrests. In-depth interviews with private security guards showed that Intelligarde’s occupational culture consisted of a ‘crime fighting’ model that included: a need to look busy, isolation or a siege mentality, fear/danger, solidarity and mutual assistance, status frustration, perceived lack of respect from the public and the police and hyper-masculinity (Rigakos, 2002). Rigakos argued that the same drivers influencing public police culture or influence occupational culture at Intelligarde. Building on from this Sing and Kempa (2007) used empirical data to examine the nature of private security culture in South Africa. They agreed with Rigakos (2002) that private security culture is in some important aspects similar to the dominant culture of the public police. However, Sing and Kempa (2007) also emphasize a combination of the individual and the institutional when considering private security culture. Presenting the example of South Africa the authors argue that a paramilitary/authoritarian culture is evident amongst private security agents. The culture of private security is affected by three key areas: training, promotion and reward structures, and informal relationships (Sing and Kempa, 2007:312). Training is limited (like in most countries, between 1-2 weeks) and most of the time is assigned to weapons and self- defense training, legal authority/powers and self-presentation skills in public settings,

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empahsising the authoritarian culture. Further, reward structures for promotions are skewed towards ex-police and/or ex-army members fueling the paramilitary security culture (Singh and Kempa, 2007). The nature of the relationship with other actors in the policing landscape also proved to be an important consideration, public attitudes of ‘intolerance’ were reported as contributing and even encouraging a militaristic, isolated and hostile police culture (p.313).

Differences in occupational culture between public and private policing agent often serve as barriers for the development of effective plural policing networks. For example, the police view police work as noble work, even when they are faced with disillusionment at the lack of actual ‘crime fighting’ that the job entails (Chan et al., 2003). In contrast, most private security view security work as temporary and the high turnover of staff in the industry shows that most individuals are not seeking a career in the industry. Button (2007) reported that over 50% of security officers interviewed as part of his study were in the process of seeking alternative employment. However, not all private security officers show poor work orientation. Button (2007) presents the ‘watchman parapolice’ continuum of private security officers. The continuum is determined by the security officer’s orientation. Security officers at the ‘watchman’ end show minimal commitment to security work and see their role as simply observing and reporting. At the other end ‘parapolice’ oriented officers had a greater commitment to security work and were more willing to engage in dangerous situations (Button, 2007). Thus, the perceived difference in work orientation may lead police to view security officers as individuals who are not concerned with ‘the greater good’, but rather as self-interested and lacking an attitude of service.

The literature shows that both police and private security occupational cultures have elements of isolation and solidarity, while as Chan et al., (2003) explain, the solidarity that exists between police officers is seen by police as a positive. Police officers have created a network of support through solidarity, as they feel no one but other officers can completely understand the pressures and demands of the job. However, there is a danger that isolation

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and solidarity may create an ‘us vs. them’ attitude that prevents both police and security from seeing the merits of each other’s contribution to policing generally. Further, empirical evidence presented here has showed that police perceive private security as part of the ‘rough’ elements in society. In the face of this perception of inferiority there exists the potential that private security will see police not as a partner but as an ‘other’.

Reiner (2000: 85) states that ‘An understanding of how police officers see the social world and their role in it – “cop culture” – is crucial to an analysis of what they do, and their broad political function.’ Furthermore, Loftus (2009) contends that there are two important elements in understanding the effects of police culture on the practices of individual police. Firstly, police culture significantly affects how the police deal with and interact with the public – this effect is often a negative one. Secondly, attempts at reform can be dramatically affected by the very nature of the police occupational identity. This is also true of private security guards. Therefore, whilst it is not within the scope of this thesis to examine in-depth the validity of the conceptions of security and police culture, the thesis will argue that occupational culture does influence the nature and quality of plural policing networks.

Having considered the nature of the public-private relationship the chapter will now turn to the perceptions and experiences of those subjected to plural policing arrangements.

Public Perceptions and Experiences

An enormous amount has been written concerning citizen’s perceptions of and relationship with the public police, both in Australia (Baker, 2001; Chappell & Wilson, 1969; Hazlehurst, 1992; Hughson, 1999; Maher, Dixon, Nguyen & Swift, 1997) and overseas (Fine, Freudenberg, Payne, Perkins, Smith and Wanzer, 2003; Klyman & Kruckenberg, 1974; Reisig & Giacomazzi, 1998). Although none of these studies deals specifically with citizen’s perception of police

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performance within a crowd control context, they nevertheless provide a useful, albeit general, foundation upon which to expand into the area of public order policing at sporting events.

Citizen–police relations became an important area of study where there are claims of corruption, malpractice, poor performance in terms of crime fighting, inadequate police response rates and the emergence of policing approaches such as ‘zero tolerance policing’ and ‘community policing’ (Goldstein, 1990). A British survey focused on citizen attitude towards police indicated that citizens readily associate dissatisfaction with police performance with slow response and inadequate surveillance (Mirrlees-Black & Budd, 1997). Similarly, a survey of attitudes to police sponsored by the Australian Institute of Criminology (AIC) reported that citizens across all States were dissatisfied with police inaction, with 65% of those surveyed in New South Wales rating it as a significant source of dissatisfaction (Swanton, Wilson, Walker, & Mukherjee, 1988).

Previous research dealing with citizen perceptions of the public police is structured around demographic characteristics including ethnicity (Hazlehurst, 1992; Maher et al., 1997), gender (Miller and Pan, 1997), and age (Fine et al., 2003; Reisig & Giacomazzi, 1998). Ethnicity is found to significantly affect an individual’s view of the public police, with individuals from minority backgrounds having a negative and often hostile attitude towards police (Aboriginal Justice Advisory Committee, 2002; Maher et al., 1997). Additionally, Hadar and Snortum (1975) in their study of three suburban communities in Los Angeles found that white residents saw the police as more active and in a positive way than did African American or Mexican-American residents. Gender has been cited as an important determinant of citizen perception of public police. Reisig & Giacomazzi (1998) observed that, in their sample of American urban youth, females viewed police in a more positive light than their male counterparts. Similarly, in a study involving university students in a midwestern American town, female students reported having more respect for local police officers than did male

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students (Miller and Pan, 1987). In addition, age is a variable reported to have an impact on citizen attitude towards police. The contention is that youth view police officers in a negative light because they are agents of social control, seeking to restrict their behaviour (Fine et al., 2003; Hadar & Snortum, 1975; Reisig & Giacomazzi, 1998). For example, in Australia young people under twenty have less respect for the police than older Australians (Swanton et al., 1988).

Apart from the aforementioned demographic characteristics affecting citizen attitudes towards police, researchers have reported evidence that contacts with police also influence perceptions. A review of the literature in this area reveals that contact with police occurs in two ways: as a suspect or as a victim. One of the early writers to explicitly claim that generally any form of contact with the police greatly influenced attitudes towards police was Dean (1980). These findings are sustained by several studies reaching the same conclusion that contact with police is an important determinant of police perceptions (Maher et al., 1997; Miller & Pan, 1987). In Australia for example, Poynting, Noble and Tabar (1997) found that Lebanese males who had been in contact with the police as suspects perceived the police as corrupt and racist. In the same vein, those who have been in contact with police as victims are generally likely to rate police negatively. Smith, Graham and Adams (1991) found that individuals who had been victimised within a 12 months period were more likely to view the police negatively.

On the other hand, research on citizen perceptions of private security officers in any context is relatively limited. Shearing, Stenning and Addario (1985) interviewed 209 Canadians to evaluate citizen perceptions of and contact with private security staff. Shearing et al. (1985) were particularly concerned with the effect that Canadians’ relationship to public law enforcement had on their perception of those involved in private security work and the industry in general. The main finding was that, in contrast to their perception of public police, Canadians did not have a stereotypical image of private security officers. Consequently,

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citizen perceptions of private security personnel were built on the behaviour and personality of individual private security personnel with whom citizens had been in contact (Shearing et al., 1985). Thus, contact with private security personnel was the determining factor in citizen attitude.

Nalla and Heraux (2003) surveyed 631 American university students enrolled in a Midwestern college concerning their attitudes, contacts and perceptions of campus private security staff. The findings suggest that generally college students have a positive perception of private security personnel. However, based on demographic characteristics such as age, gender and ethnicity, differences in the students’ views of security work emerged. For instance, male students held more negative views than females, white students were more negative about the nature of security work than minority students, and individuals from low income backgrounds also thought less positively about private security than their high income counterparts. Also, students who had been in contact with private security personnel rated security work and security personnel more negatively than those who had not. Significantly, Nalla and Heraux’s (2003) findings are very similar to findings typically reported from studies of citizens’ perception of the public police service as previously mentioned.

Walsh (1989) comments that private security personnel are viewed as untrained, unprofessional, and unregulated. They are perceived as having one central goal, to protect their client’s property at any cost. Similarly, several Australian commentators on private security (Hay, 1998; Prenzler, 2000; Reynolds & Wilson, 1996; and Swanton, 1993) agree that generally public perception of private security is negative due largely to criticism of inadequate training and lack of accountability. Similarly in the UK, a MORI2 survey for the Audit Commission in 1996 on the levels of public reassurance generated by a range of crime prevention measures (including CCTV, police officer on foot, a marked police car, a private

2 MORI surveys are undertaken by Ipsos MORI, one of the largest research companies.

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security officer, traffic wardens and a Neighbourhood Watch sticker) concluded that the public found the presence of a security guard ‘not very’ or ‘not at all’ reassuring (Audit Commission, 1996). In comparison, a police officer on foot provided a level of public reassurance of +80 per cent, a marked police car produced +70 per cent, and a CCTV camera generated +40 per cent. At the lower end of the scale, a Neighbourhood Watch sticker produced -5 per cent reassurance and a security guard provided a reassurance of -15 per cent.

Further, Crawford, Lister, Blackburn and Burnett (2005: 64) in a study of the plural policing of community patrols asked residents in two residential areas to rate the value of different patrol personnel: police officer, neighbourhood warden and private security. The authors found (similarly to the findings of the Audit Commission 1996), that the police are the most reassuring. However, the study also found that private security officers were more reassuring than neighbourhood wardens with 38% of people rating security as ‘a little reassuring’ in contrast to 28% rating wardens in the same category. However, in terms of the symbolic importance of each type of personnel, more respondents (40%) felt that neighbourhood wardens were more important to the overall level of policing compared with private security patrols (32%).

In contrast to the general negative public perception of security, Noaks (2004) in a study of a community patrols in England found evidence that private security was positively perceived by the majority of residents surveyed for the study. Private security was judged by the majority of respondents as having a positive influence on crime prevention and crime reduction, as illustrated by the following comment from a resident in Noaks’ study, ‘Since they started I have only been aware of one local attempted crime, which was abandoned when the security team arrived.’ (Noaks, 2004: 267). Among residents who were not subscribers to the security service, 68% said that nothing bothered them about the work of

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the security company while 10% were critical or suspicious of private security (Noaks, 2004: 270).

Conclusion

This chapter has brought together the general theoretical debates and the empirical findings in the field of plural policing networks. In the first instance, the chapter has served to identify the nature of the policing market both in historical and contemporary forms. In arguing that policing markets have become pluralised or fragmented, the chapter has identified several trends which may be stimulating the policing market and causing it to fragment in a way that is pervasive and highly visible.

The chapter has shown that in most Western democratic countries such as in the UK, Canada, Germany and the Netherlands, there has always been a broad set of policing providers. Nevertheless, significant changes to contemporary policing structures have been occurring. The extent of these changes, however, has been contested within the criminology community (Bayley and Shearing 1996; Jones and Newburn, 2002). The major change has been the increased presence of private security in everyday social life. In many jurisdictions, the private security industry is greater than the public police, both in terms of personnel and finance. Moreover, there is the increased use of alternative forms of civilian policing (non- sworn personnel involved in policing) in the shape of police community support officers, wardens, and city guards, the result being the pluralisation of policing.

Why has this occurred? As the discussion presented here has demonstrated, there are many factors that can assist in understanding the changes. First, there is the argument that police services have created a market that allows private providers to effectively compete for policing services. Hence, internal public police policy changes, such as charging for previously 50 | P a g e

free services, have resulted in the pluralisation of policing, by facilitating the introduction of new providers into the market. Another factor identified in this chapter as affecting changes in policing is that the pluralisation of policing is taking place as a result of broader structural changes, such as those in property relations including the use and management of public space. The basic premise here is that the changing nature of space provides an avenue for the expansion of private forms of social control and order maintenance; this is exemplified in the rise of communal spaces of which mass private property is an example. Further, the chapter has argued that the pluralisation of policing is being stimulated by structural changes in the nature of late modern societies and the role of the state which have created an environment which encourages the growth of the private security industry. Thus, this chapter has firstly identified some general trends in the policing market that may account for the pluralisation of policing.

The second concern of the chapter has been with the limited empirical evidence illustrating the nature and quality of public-private policing partnerships and with the experiences of those subjected to plural policing arrangements. Research into the public-private policing relationship has been predominantly conducted in the UK. Evidence from Australia is sorely lacking. Nevertheless, the limited evidence that is available shows that police have traditionally been dismissive of the value and contribution that private security can make to policing. The chapter suggests that much of the tension between police and security may be a result of differences in occupational culture. Moreover, the public tend to favour police over private security in terms of their effectiveness to generate reassurance and to prevent crime. Finally, the empirical research shows that improved inter-agency co-operation can be achieved through three key areas: open communication channels, jointly co-ordinated projects and regular contact between police and security.

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Finally, due to the limited availability of quality evidence, there is a call from those in the field of policing studies for further examination of plural policing networks (Button 2007; Wakefield 2003; Johnston, 2000b). Button (2007:182) expresses the need for further scholarly debate and research in the field as follows: ‘there is a need for more research to shed further empirical and theoretical light on these issues... it is important that further similar research is carried out upon comparable locations.’ Therefore this thesis is a timely response to the call for further research into the contemporary policing landscape. As was described in Chapter 1, the focus of this thesis is on plural policing networks in the context of football matches. The context of the football match allows for an examination of security networks during ‘special events’ (Brodeur, 2010: 298) which is distinct from previous studies focusing on day-to-day policing. Additionally, the context of football policing allows for a consideration of how spatial attachment, the stadium as ‘home’, may affect the co- production of order in ways that are distinct from other locations that do not have the same degree of spatial attachment. The following chapter will provide a working conceptual framework for an exploration of football policing in the 21st century.

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CHAPTER THREE: ORDERING FOOTBALL DEVELOPING A CONCEPTUAL FRAMEWORK

Introduction

Football policing has received a lot of attention both in popular media and academic circles; scholars across a wide range of disciplines have attempted to analyse the phenomenon. However, the majority of work emerging from football scholarship is concerned with the ‘hooligan’ dimension and fails to incorporate in its analysis the complexity of football policing as a broader social activity that involves a wide range of actors. This study is concerned with moving away from this tradition by exploring football policing in practice through an analysis that incorporates the experiences and perception of public police, private security and football fans. The inclusion of all three groups in the analysis requires that a conceptual framework be expansive enough to provide a means for informed consideration of the intricacies at play when these three groups come into contact. This chapter will argue that an integrated conceptual framework is the best approach to inform an analysis of football policing in the context of a pluralised policing market.

The chapter identifies several concepts from the literature that are of particular use in analysing the plural policing of football matches. These concepts are organised into three theoretical perspectives: interactionist, cultural and spatial perspective. The chapter will discuss how each perspective generates insights that are useful in the analysis of the study of football policing. The studies presented within each perspective may not directly deal with the policing of football—some explain crowd behaviour, others the interaction between policing agents and fans, and still others the differential orientation of agents or treatment of spectators. However, each perspective does provide a way for advancing the theorising of football policing away from hooligan frames and into a multivariate analysis that lends greater emphasis on the dynamic nature of policing football.

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Theoretical Perspectives on the Policing Of Football

Interactionist Frames

The British psychologists Stott and Reicher (1998a, 1998b), using a symbolic interactionist perspective, have developed a social identity model to assist in the understanding of the public order policing of mass gatherings, and have applied it to protest rallies and football matches. Using what they term the Elaborated Social Identity Model (ESIM), the authors argue that crowd disorder can be explained not as hooligan acts but rather as events ‘in which collective disorder is made possible through the shared psychological salience of a common social identity amongst crowd participants’ (Stott et al., 2001: 370). Further, Drury et al. (2003) and Stott and Reicher (1998a) argue that collective spectator disorder can best be understood as inter-group actions in which one group, the crowd, can react violently to actions of another group, the police, when the police group’s actions are considered to be over-controlling and in direct violation of what the spectator group perceives to be right. Hence this approach contends that there is a transformation of identity from an individual consciousness to a collective consciousness. Thus established norms of a group’s behaviour can be transformed during interaction with an out-group (for example, the police).

As Waddington (2007) suggests, the ESIM is reliant on the assumption that individuals attending mass gathering events enter these situations with specific identities and norms of behaviour which are susceptible to transformation based on interactions with ‘out-groups’, such as the police and private security. However, there is always more than one definition of normality and this is directly affected by the social or physical space in which the action is taking place (Herbert, 1996 & 1997; O’Neill, 2004). The ESIM does not account for transformations in identity and therefore action based on spatial determinants but rather focuses singularly on transformations through social interactions between groups when spatial interactions also play a significant role in behaviour (Hannah, 1997). Nevertheless, the ESIM as developed by Stott and colleagues does provide for a psychological perspective on

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crowd behaviour that moves away from traditional pathological frames by highlighting the significance of social interaction in the study of crowd dynamics.

The ESIM has been applied to the study of football disorder involving English supporters travelling abroad (Stott, 2003; Stott et al. 2007; Stott and Reicher 1998a). The authors contend that in analysing incidents during which disorder escalates to involve large numbers of supporters, it is important to move away from any ‘structural/dispositional’ analysis of aggression which is common in hooligan studies and focus instead on ‘inter-group dynamics’ relevant to the incident under consideration (Stott and Reicher 1998a; 354). In a study of the 1990 World Cup in Italy, the authors identified several incidents that affected the nature of the interaction between travelling English football fans and the Italian police. For example, the use of paramilitary policing strategies by the Italian police in response to the possibility of disorder, even when the disorderly conduct by English fans was minor and when English supporters were in fact the victims of misconduct (Stott and Reicher 1998b). The authors argue that it was this history of interaction between the police and travelling English supporters that framed the conflictual interpretations governing their encounters. Stott (2003: 642) explains how interactions alter identity definitions within crowds:

Conflict [is] not seen as hooliganism but as a reassertion of rights. Moreover, the (actual or perceived) indiscriminate nature of police hostility towards England supporters created an inclusive social identity that incorporated rather than rejected hooligan fans (i.e. those prepared to initiate conflict). This incorporation led to increased expectations of support that empowered hooligan fans enabling them, and indeed ‘ordinary’ England fans, to act aggressively towards the police during a crowd event.

Similarly, Frosdick (2005), in his study of three ‘derby’ matches in England, found that unnecessary force employed in the police response to incidents during football matches often increased the likelihood of confrontations between spectators and police. Further, public order policing studies, particularly those concerned with the policing of rallies and

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protest marches, highlight the importance of inter-group dynamics presented by the ESIM and the impacts that these can have on the strategies police adopt, and acknowledge that ‘confrontation is therefore, a “recipe for disaster”: and arrest for a minor offence could spark off a riot in which damage and injury result and an inquiry that threatens careers. Hence, confrontation is avoided’ (Waddington, 1998: 120). Therefore police officers are becoming increasingly aware that public order tactics based on escalated force have detrimental effects not just on the situation at hand but also ripple effects on the legitimacy and perceptions of the police more widely. As a result public order policing is now more concerned with achieving management of incidents through negotiations.

The insight that the policing of public order events, including football policing, can be viewed as a performance that is observed and thus interpreted not only by the groups involved in the interaction but also by outside bodies including the media and accountability agencies is central to the work of O’Neill (2004). In her study of football policing in Scotland, the author is concerned with social interaction and negotiated disorder and uses the work of Erving Goffman as an interpretative framework. O’Neill (2004) uses Goffman’s (1959) dramaturgic metaphor in particular for her interpretation of the interactions between police and spectators at football matches. She explains how Goffman uses the metaphor of the stage to examine social interaction in routine activity. For Goffman, social interaction is like a theatrical performance in which actors (individuals) perform one of many roles available to them and these roles are determined by the situation or ‘front stage’ that they find themselves in. Then in ‘backstage’ situations the individuals no longer need to perform as the audience is removed and actors are now free to morph into new roles (Birrel, 1978 cited in O’Neill, 2004). Actors also serve as the audience for other actors and determine whether their performance is believable. Moreover, Goffman’s dramaturgical approach holds that the impressions cultivated by an individual are part of a wider performance that involves multiple actors, a routine composed of teams, with team members ‘work*ing+ together in order to produce a coherent and unified definition of the situation’ (O’Neill, 2004: 6). Similarly, Armstrong (1998), following a Goffmanasque perspective of identify formation, argues that

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hooligan behavior needs to be understood as participants taking on a number of different identities and each identity can be constructed and re-constructed based on social interaction.

O’Neill (2004) proposes that the Goffmanesque framework lends itself to an analysis of football policing based on interaction between police, football stewards and football supporters throughout the events of a football match. Her ethnographic approach consists of observational work shadowing police officers from various ranks and across a range of components of football policing, including pre-event planning and post- event debriefs. While observations were made of interactions that involved all three groups (police, stewards, and spectators), her understanding of the norms and values of the stewards and spectators is limited (informal interviews were undertaken with stewards) and thus interpretations of group interactions are more likely to take place from the police officers’ stand point. Nonetheless, the study still provides insight into the policing of football through group interaction as the following findings clearly illustrate.

A key finding from the study is that public order policing at football matches is conducted in the form of small policing teams and that the police do not in practice act as one large homogeneous group, although they do present a ‘a unified force to the outside world’ (O’Neill, 2004: 197). For instance, she found evidence that internal politics and the lack of communication between the operational police (those dealing directly with crowd members) and managerial police create an inconsistent approach to public order policing both inside the ground and outside the stadium. Additionally, Warren and Hay (1998) argue that open communication between policing ranks is central to consistent application of policing strategies, as it helps to prevent police misconduct. Managerial police must always keep an open flow of communication with operational police officers and must be clear and flexible in relaying orders/information about potential order maintenance problems and the tactics available to handle the situation (Warren & Hay, 1998).

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Of particular interest to the study of plural policing networks is O’Neill’s finding that there exists an informal pecking order in the field that differs from the formal police hierarchy in which power runs from top to bottom. Instead of the hierarchy consisting of Chief Constable at the top and the police constable at the bottom, there emerges an informal hierarchy in football policing in which detectives or football spotters3 are at the top and football stewards are at the bottom. The degree to which the work undertaken is seen as ‘real police work’ by other actors determines the place in the hierarchy. As O’Neill (2004: 192) illustrates:

Spotters are involved in ‘real’ police work as they focus their actions on catching the football hooligans while the rest of the officers are more involved with non-hooligan supporters or desk jobs. Football stewards are at the bottom of the informal prestige hierarchy, as not only are they not police officers and do not do ‘real’ police-type 4 work, but they are often viewed as being no better than supporters in yellow jackets.

The Goffmanesque framework adopted by O’Neill (2004) provides insight on the contrast between the images presented to observers of a unified police entity when in practice police discretion allows for differential practices across policing teams. Police discretion has a significant impact on spectator behaviour, as conflict can be created between spectators and police due to inconsistency in law enforcement. Also, the dramaturgic metaphor helps provide an understanding of how audiences interpret the performance of other actors. As shown, public policing audiences (the spectators) interpret the performances of private policing agents (the stewards) as lacking legitimacy because they do not form part of the greater team (the police) but also because their roles do not meet pre-established notions of

3 Football Spotters are specialist football liaison officers who are responsible for gathering and sharing intelligence on supporter groups. They act as a link between the police and a club’s supporter community. On match days football spotters are deployed as undercover police, seeking to identify ‘hooligan’ supporters that may have entered the venue. The Association of Police Chief Officers (2010: 20) states the value of the spotter: ‘Spotters will provide invaluable knowledge and context which will benefit command decision making (e.g. how resources can be effectively deployed).’ 4 Stewards in the UK wear coloured jackets as part of their uniform. The bright colours of yellow, orange, green and red are often used as they are easily identifiable. The word steward is also written in large black letters on the back of their jackets. For example Liverpool FC stewards wear bright orange jackets.

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‘real’ police work. These interpretations ultimately influence the nature of the relationship between public and private policing agents.

Cultural Frames

Closely linked to the interactionist framework is the use of culture as an interpretative framework for the policing of football. Traditional theories of football spectators, although largely concerned with the hooligan as opposed to football spectators more broadly, do provide some important insights into the practice and experience of football spectatorship. Marsh et al.’s (1978) work represents some of the earliest football scholarship that adopts a cultural analysis to football spectatorship. The theory of ‘ritualised aggression’ argued that much of what was presented in the media as violent and disorderly behaviour was in fact ‘ritualised’ behaviour. They distinguished between ‘real’ violence and ‘aggro’. According to this conception, ‘real’ violence comprises of ‘physical violence directed in an aggressive way towards another human being’ (Marsh et al., 1978:28). In contrast, ‘aggro’ or symbolic violence involves ‘the threat of actions and weapons which are not actually used’ (Marsh et al., 1978: 155). Examples of this ‘ritualised aggression’ include: spectators’ engaging in boisterous songs that denigrate opposition players and opposition supporters and the taunting of opposition supporters through giving them ‘the finger’ and other gestures aimed at arousing a response. Furthermore, Giulianotti and Armstrong (2002) argue that these practices by football spectators are a form of contestation over urban landscapes, contestation that the police are unable to eradicate and that form a central part of football spectator culture.

Parry and Malcolm (2004) also support the notion of a football spectator culture, with its own rules and norms. They claim that most travelling English football supporters are exuberant and boisterous, but predominantly non-violent. This is an identity that they happily accept in an attempt to ‘define themselves in contradiction to the so-called ‘cardboard cut-out’

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spectator (those spectators perceived as new- comers and largely middle class) whose relatively pacified support has led to accusations of them not getting behind the team’ (Parry and Malcolm 2004: 85). Similarly, Stott and Pearson (2006) state that the majority of football fans arrested at major overseas tournaments such as the World Cup or the European Football Championship have no prior involvement in football related disorder. These studies do not deny that serious violence does occur but they contend that real or serious violence forms a small proportion of incidents and that by and large the media representation of football spectators as inherently violent is a misrepresentation of football spectator culture.

A basic premise of the theory of ‘ritualised aggression’ as developed by Marsh and his colleagues is that spectator disorder at football matches is ‘rule governed’: rules exist regarding whom and when it is legitimate to attack and when to cease. For example, the authors include as cues for spectator ‘aggro’ foul play by opposing team players and bad refereeing decisions. The authors also contend that the real danger lies in the interference of ‘aggro’, claiming that the methods used to prevent and manage spectator disorder at football matches are what cause ‘real violence’. For instance, police intervention dissolves the rules on which the ‘ritual’ and orderly display of ‘aggro’ are dependent so that excessive police involvement can turn ‘ritual’ aggression into real violence. Marsh et al. (1978: 113) summarises the link between spectator culture and its importance to policing practices:

The point that arises out of this is that fans have a clear idea of how they think police and other officials at football games should act – in other words, they have rules for the actions of others as well as themselves and they are able to interpret some of the actions on the part of officials being in breach of propriety.

Linked to the notion of norms governed by rules in the exercise of ‘ritualised aggression’ at football matches is the concept of ‘normative orders’ as adapted by Herbert (1997) from Parsons’ (1937). Herbert uses the concept of ‘normative orders’ to introduce a cultural dimension to the analysis of how the Los Angeles Police Department exercise territoriality.

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Normative orders are conceptualised by the author as ‘a set of rules and practices structured around a central value’ (Herbert, 1996: 568). This definition allows for an analysis of both the rules that structure social action and the values that provide meaning to the action. By emphasising the interactional dimension between rules and values, Herbert (1997) is able to overcome the shortfall in Parsons’ (1937) conception and highlight the reflexivity of human actors, something the original schema of Parsons did not allow for. Further, Herbert identifies a variety of normative orders that structure action. In so doing, the author departs from Parsons’ consensus model towards a pluralist analysis which permits for the presence of conflict and an exploration of the contested nature of social life (Herbert, 1996). The author identifies six normative orders: law, bureaucratic control, adventure/machismo, safety, competence and morality (Herbert, 1997: 4).

Similar to the rules governing the practice of ‘ritualised aggression’ by football spectators, it can be argued that policing agents also have their own normative order or set of rules and values that govern how they police public order incidents. As Herbert (1996: 568) explains, ‘police officers as agents of state power are constrained by formal legal and bureaucratic rules, they are also meaning-making agents who enact their own cultural rules as they try to ensure socio-spatial order’. Enacting a cultural rule is not straightforward, as there is the possibility of conflict between orders. For example, Herbert presents a possible conflict between the normative order of law and that of adventure/machismo, so that an officer interested in demonstrating courage (machismo) may act contrary to legal restrictions on the use of force (Herbert, 1997).

Ian Warren focuses on the occupational cultures of public police and private security to study the nature of public–private relationships at two Australian sites. The study involved interviews and observation at AFL (Australian Football League) and NSL (National Soccer League) matches. Using cultural analysis, Warren (1998) concluded that public police and private security encounter difficulties in public order maintenance because each agency has

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an occupational culture founded on different ideals and legislation. Warren (1998:111) explains:

...differences in laws governing the responsibilities, roles and obligations of private police and concepts of loss prevention, market accountability and the preservation of private interests represent a substantial departure from the centralized, objective, impartial and obligatory community service philosophies which underpin state policing.

This difference in occupational culture is identified as a significant obstacle in the development of successful plural policing partnerships in the context of sporting events. This cultural difference is then amplified according to Warren (1998) when the policing agent lacks knowledge regarding the culture of the particular sport they police. In Warren’s study, the public police and private security agents were responding inconsistently to incidents, exercising discretion which was heavily influenced by the occupational culture and differing understandings of the sporting culture. At the NSL (National Soccer League) site, private security showed ‘success’ in order maintenance primarily because there was a legacy of hiring ‘in-house’ security for order maintenance at the venue. In contrast, in the AFL (Australian Football Rules) context, the police showed greater success because for over one hundred years the public police had been working at AFL matches, whereas it was not till 1989 that private security was introduced to AFL matches. Therefore, plural policing in sporting venues in Australia has previously been found to be problematic because there is conflict between the approaches that public and private policing agents take in exercising their powers and because of a lack of cultural awareness regarding the practices of spectators at any given sport.

Similarly, in their study of the policing of the 1990 World Cup in Italy, Stott and Reicher (1998a) found evidence that lack of crowd knowledge (on the part of the police) and animosity between police and spectators can often result in clashes between the two groups. The authors reported an incident where the Italian police clashed with a large march of 62 | P a g e

English supporters while they were walking to the stadium. The Italian police had misinterpreted the march as an intention of disorder while most supporters interviewed by the researchers explained ‘I was in the march because it is traditional for England fans to go to the ground together before the game’ (Stott and Reicher, 1998a: 369).

These findings give weight to the contention that although it would be irresponsible to propose that police or other policing agents, including stewards and private security, cause disorder, it is nonetheless important to recognize that in the dynamics of spectator disorder the policing agents are significant components whose understanding of crowd culture and subsequent actions have an impact on the initiation, escalation or containment of crowd disorder (Stott & Reicher, 1998a; Stott & Reicher, 1998b; Stott, Hutchison, & Drury, 2001; Waddington, 1992; Warren and Hay, 1998).

The theory of ritualised aggression, whilst useful in identifying the need for officials policing football matches to be aware of the culture surrounding football spectatorship when developing public order policing strategies, can be criticised on two fronts. First, several football scholars argue that the theory grossly underestimates the gravity of some forms of spectator disorder (Armstrong and Harris, 1991; Dunning et al., 1988; Hay, 1998). Secondly, it is argued that by concentrating their observations on spectator behaviour during football matches and ignoring the pre and post-match interactions, the authors failed to witness serious violence because both the inside and immediate surroundings of modern football stadiums are well policed and highly regulated by a combination of both public and private social control agents (Giulianotti and Armstrong, 2002; Armstrong and Harris, 1991). In spite of the criticisms levelled against it, the concept of ritualised aggression is a useful starting point for the cultural analysis of football spectatorship and the role of culture in the policing of public order more broadly as Herbert’s (1997) normative orders and Warren’s (1998) occupational cultural analysis have illustrated.

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Spatial Frames

Spatial analysis is a branch of human geography that is concerned with the multiple uses and definitions of space as well as with the historical geographies of different groups of people. This form of analysis positions space within a ‘complex framework in which individuals and groups are situated, through which they interact, and by which they make statements’ (Sack 1986:25). Space is presented as the framework by which a number of other facets of human relationships may be explored and analysed. ‘Topophilia’ and ‘territoriality’ are examples of key concepts derived from spatial analysis that have been used by football and policing scholars alike to examine both the relationship that groups or individuals can have to space and the way in which space is interconnected with the exercise of power and social control.

Space, human geographers argue, is endowed with social meaning and regimes of significance that can be contested. Spaces can be generated through the erection of boundaries through zoning and other means but a sense of ‘place’ only emerges through the development of a public meaning related to that area (Giulianotti and Armstrong, 2002: 213). For example Bale (1994) contends that the stadium is to football supporters a focus for topophilia, a term he uses to describe an individual’s or group’s love relationship to a specific place. The stadium becomes in essence a part of the team’s history particularly in the context of English football where some clubs are more than one hundred years old. The conception that stadiums are sacred spaces is a recurrent theme in the sports literature. For instance, Morris (1981) treats the soccer stadium as a temple, while for Bale (1994) stadiums are seen as ‘carriers of memory and significant symbolic connotations’. Similarly for Costa (1987), football stadiums are seen as ‘new institutional space’ that holds the capacity to mobilise an entire nation and each individual in its own way. Costa (1987), in a study of soccer stadiums in Portugal, suggested that stadiums could be classified as an ephemeral space of social communion, similar to the role performed by a church in a small village.

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Spectators who regularly attend their ‘home ground’ express sentiments of attachment to their stadium. In many English towns and cities, the football stadium is a place that holds such strong sentiment for locals that it moves beyond a functional space into a source of ‘geographical memories’ (Bale, 2000). As Hague and Mercer (1998: 110) discovered in their study of geographical memory and identity in Scotland, the Scottish football club Raith Rovers served as ‘a reference that triggers wider memories of friends, relatives and people living in the urban space that is Kirkcaldy’. Towns and cities may find a sense of pride and awareness and local memories through their football clubs and their stadiums. In contrast to this positive emotional attachment of stadiums, Bale (2000) identifies a range of ‘externalities’ surrounding the football venue which may recreate a more negative perception of stadiums, especially by those directly affected by them. For instance, increased crime rates in and around stadiums on match days, increased levels of noise and litter, parking problems, and ‘hooliganism’ are all seen as negative by-products of the presence of a football stadium in any given community. In addition, policing around the football stadium imposes costs on the local tax-payers. These negative ‘externalities’ experienced by those positioned geographically close to the stadium must also be considered in any analysis of space and football.

Space is not one dimensional, it can be real (as in the physical structure of the football stadium) but it can also be imagined. Imagined geographies have a significant role to play in illustrating the connections that exist between people and places. For example, Hughson (1999) explained how football supporters can, through their various practices within football stadiums, create ‘thirdspace’. Borrowing Soja’s (1996) conception of ‘thirdspace’ (a blend between imagined spaces through subcultural meaning and practices and real or physical spaces), Hughson (1999) examined the practices of the then Sydney United supporters attempting to exercise fandom in a climate of ’de- ethnicising’ in Australian football (soccer) to prevent disorder on nationalistic grounds. The author found that the supporters, whose club had changed names from Sydney Croatia to Sydney United, employed a range of symbols and colours to identify themselves as Croatians, in spite of the ban on nationalistic symbols at

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Australian football matches. This identification with origin was not undertaken in an obvious way, so as to be able to escape official control over their fandom within the stadium, but was clear enough so that those familiar with the subcultural group could understand the implied meanings. This concurs with Giulianotti and Armstrong’s (2002: 213) conception of the football stadium:

It exhibits ‘the personality of place’, to the extent that it acquires the geography of social differences and inequalities contained by its inhabitants and pilgrims. It enables the presentation of communality, through the assembly (or stylized absence) of club colours, banners, badges and other motifs.

While the concept of topophilia as used by Bale (1994) to articulate the love of place is a useful concept in understanding the relationship between spatial arrangement and social identity, most of the work in this area is limited by examinations reliant on historical football geographies. Further, Bale’s work is concentrated on the football stadium itself and fails to consider other landscapes of significance away from the venue. Giulianotti and Armstrong (2002: 212) rightly criticise Bale’s work for failing to consider ‘effects of control strategies upon the utilisation and meaning of particular urban landscapes for football supporters’. Therefore, while the actual physical stadiums and their historical connections as well as the imagined geographies make space a significant consideration in the management of football crowds, very few scholars have actually employed a detailed analysis of space to examine the issue. Giulianotti and Armstrong (2002), using detailed ethnographies, speak of ‘avenues of contestation’. The authors contend that changes in both the architectural design of football grounds and the various strategies of control employed by police to establish order (ranging from segregation to intense surveillance) has resulted in the dispersal of disorder. Where once disorder was most prevalent within the stadium as rival fans contested for space (especially the taking over of the opposition’s ‘end’), disorder is now more likely to occur in areas surrounding the stadium that have a symbolic meaning for rival fans (e.g. public houses and the city centre).

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At the core of an analysis such as the one presented in Giulianotti and Armstrong’s (2002) work is the concept of territoriality and its use as a policing strategy in exercising power and achieving social control. Territorial action in policing has been noted in passing by policing scholars. However, it is the work of Steve Herbert that is most influential in outlining the relevance and value of territoriality to policing broadly. Following Sack (1986), Herbert (1997: 10) argues that one of the core and fundamental expectations of police officers is that they be able to secure control over the ‘flow of action in space’. Hence, the police are expected to be effective agents of territoriality. For Herbert (1997: 11), spatial control is constantly present in the varied forms of order-maintenance activities that police engage in on a day-today basis, as he describes it:

Officers typically bring domestic disputes under control by segregating the combatants... they end loud parties by sending people home. They regularly sweep gang members from street corners, underage youth from saloons, prostitutes from the front of cheap motels, homeless people from commercial thoroughfares.

Thus, in practice, policing consists of enacting boundaries and restricting access, restricting individuals’ capacity to act by regulating their movement in space. As such, police powers are exercised on a political geography (Fyfe, 1991). Bourdieu (1991) acknowledges the significance of the political geography in which police exercise territorial power when he observed that ‘domination of space... is one of the most privileged forms of executing power... manipulation of the spatial distribution of groups has always been used to manipulate these very groups’. What occurs in essence is a form of social sorting through access. Herbert (1996) explains that the effectiveness of power is lost when there is no capacity to control or affect the movement of people and goods across space. Hence many policing strategies aimed at order maintenance inevitably involve police generating and creating boundaries and restricting access.

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Territoriality is understood in this thesis, following Sack’s (1986: 19) conception, as ‘the attempt by an individual or group to affect, influence, or control people, phenomena and relationships, by delimiting and asserting control over a geographic area’. According to this conception, human territoriality involves three elements: classification, boundary setting and enforcement of access. Territories are fluid and require continued efforts both to establish them and to maintain them. Moreover, Sack’s (1986: 27) theory of territoriality explains that ‘territories are socially constructed forms of spatial relations and their effects depend on who is controlling whom and for what purpose’. In adopting the term territoriality for his analysis of the exercise of power the author clearly distinguishes between the traditional uses of the term in the area of human biology where the term has been used to connote an aggressive instinct in humans to govern space, not dissimilar from that practised by animals. Hence territoriality is a strategy adopted for achieving social control and highlights that human spatial relationships are not neutral, ‘setting places aside and enforcing degrees of access means that individuals and groups have removed some activities and people from places and included others’ (Sack, 1986: 26).

Football stadiums are examples of highly territorial spaces. Bale (1993) argues that the environment of football has been transformed from an environment weak in exclusion, through the unenclosed and multifunctional space in which folk football was played, to an environment characterised by strong rules of exclusion. The enclosed nature of the modern stadium for Bale (1993) creates segmented and mono-functional spaces with a focus on boundaries and efficient surveillance of crowds to achieve order. Thus, territoriality as a concept shares overlapping ideas of power and surveillance with the work of social theorists as different as Michel Foucault and Max Weber (Bale, 1993; Gaffney and Mascarenhas, 2005; Herbert, 1996; 1997). For example, Gaffney and Mascarenhas (2005) use the work of Michel Foucault to argue that stadiums should be considered as disciplinary spaces just as schools, hospitals and prisons are. For them stadiums exude what Foucault would term ‘molecular- level control of power’ (2005: 3), over the space of bodies, of gestures and the distribution of individuals in the interior of institutional spaces. Research has found that a stadium’s crowd

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is distributed around the venue according to class structure with the middle class seated on the stands and the lower class at either ‘end’ of the ground in the more ‘affordable’ sections of the ground (Bromberger, 1993). The distribution of the crowd in contemporary football stadiums is similar to Bromberger’s description. The more affordable seats are at the ends of stadiums behind the goal. However, ‘traditional ends’ and standing terraces have been demolished and most modern stadiums are all-seater stadiums, everyone has seating. Football spectators however, often use the practice of standing throughout matches as a way of contesting control and maintaining ownership of the ‘ends’ of football grounds.

Furthermore, not all visitors to the venue are equally subjected to the same intensity of control through surveillance. As Bale (1993) explains, ‘problem’ supporters are policed much more intensely than ‘respectable’ supporters. This reflects the way in which broader social spaces are also ordered. For example Herbert (2008) observes that in the process of keeping spaces attractive for commercial benefits, those in charge of regulating that space (be they public or private agents), through policy or through practical enforcement of policy, create a stratified treatment of individuals, including those that meet standards and excluding those that lack the acceptable means to engage with it. However, those excluded must end up somewhere; they go to the ‘enclaves’ (Kempa, et al., 2004) or the lanes and alleyways, the parks the suburbs or strips of public spaces. These ‘enclaves’ of space often are characterised by greater levels of policing and monitoring of behaviour, so that the chances of coming into contact with policing agents are greater. Moreover, because people are then segregated into spaces based on this stratified treatment, spaces are created in which whether certain behaviour is deemed permissible or prohibited is solely based on who you are and in what area of the city you are in (Herbert, 2008; Kempa, et al., 2004). Thus stadiums can be viewed and examined not just as isolated spaces but rather as microcosms of society.

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Traditionally, as previously noted, stadiums have been conceptualised as places of cultural expression, a place of festival. However since the introduction of all-seater stadiums (Taylor, 1991), architectural interventions and changes, not just in rules of usage or conditions of entry but also on ticketing prices for matches, are resulting in an increase in control over bodies, rites and collective actions in stadium space. Some urban researchers now claim that stadiums are emerging into spaces of increasing discipline (Bale, 1993; Gaffney and Mascarenhas, 2005).

Focusing on spatial aspects of control, Hannah (1997) identifies a typology of disciplinary powers, including architectural discipline, compound discipline, urban discipline, colonial (reserve) discipline and national discipline. For the purpose of this thesis, the concept of ‘compound discipline’ is of particular interest. The author explains that a compound is any space significantly bigger than a prison building, with clearly separating boundaries. The limitations of the definition are acknowledged by the author and he goes on to explain that compound boundaries are also meaningful – they create a clear divide between one set of behavioural regulations and another. Hannah (1997) gives shopping malls and theme parks as examples of compound spaces. Compounds also have varying degrees of freedom to enter and exit and these freedoms are directly related to the extent to which the compound is primarily a space of control. For instance, shopping malls and theme parks and even sporting stadiums cannot confine people permanently. However, those entering these compounds through payment of fees or through free access to specific goods and service providers do submit themselves to the stringent regulations and monitoring practices that form part of the ‘zone of contractual governance’ (Crawford, 2003a: 499) of the given compound. For Crawford (2003a) zones of contractual governance are inscribed with conditions of behaviour and the means of monitoring conduct. Accepting entry is to accept the terms and forms of regulation. A key concern for Hannah (1997) is that often regulations within these compounds are more stringent than those an individual is subjected to in generic urban public space. Similarly, the action of entering into a store or retail complex implies consent to be searched. Failure to adhere to a search results in exclusion from the retail complex.

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Crawford (2003a: 499) identifies exclusion, dismissal, removal and termination of access as ‘powers of compliance.’ Further, Crawford (2003a: 500) states that:

Contracts are the social equivalents of crime prevention through environmental design. They seek to ‘design out crime’ through a complex array of instruments that inscribe incentives and disincentives into the physical environment and social relations.

Crawford’s conclusion with regards to contractual governance is linked to spatial aspects of control through inclusion and exclusion. On a similar vein, Palmer and Whelan (2007) adopt the concept of communal spaces as conceived by Kempa et al. (2004) after a re- conceptualisation of the mass private property thesis. As explained in the previous chapter, Kempa and colleagues used the concept to refer to a continuum of property forms. In so doing, the authors were concerned with highlighting the ‘legal rupture between property ownership and the capacity to control access to property’ (2004: 57). In the work of Palmer and Whelan (2007), the concept is used to examine the way in which changing spatial relations have influenced the emergence of plural policing networks and the regulation of stadium space in particular. They focus their analysis of the concept on the policing of ‘major event venues’ in Victoria, Australia. They argue that a particular feature of event policing is that these events are:

...a product of legislation that creates a new set of norms through special offences, and a new structure of policing and security... administrative law increasingly directs attention to the ‘reponsibilization’ (O’Malley & Palmer, 1996) of the owners of ‘communal spaces’ to meet standards of state defined order, effectively ‘sub- contracting’ policing patrol work (though retaining important residual power for state police interventions).

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Major event venue legislation is therefore a tool for ordering space and determines both the providers or the forms of policing exercising power in that particular space as well as shaping the content or practices of policing employed within these spaces. Further, in creating a new set of norms outside typically expected in day-to-day social life, event venue legislation significantly controls the behaviour of those attending these venues and achieves a binding legal contract through, as Hannah (1997) illustrates, a self submission to disciplinary power by members of the public in exchange for access to the consumption of certain goods and services, in Palmer and Whelan’s (2007) example, the consumption of sporting events. The authors contend that the state employs administrative law to both create a plural policing market through responsibilisation whilst also maintaining power for state regulation over the market. Similarly, Herbert (1997 and 1996), adopting a Weberian analysis of police territoriality, argues that ‘spatial control is so crucial to the modern state that ineffective territoriality means, simply, incomplete state power’ and that the police are so central to the internal infrastructure of the state that their effective socio-spatial control is ‘a foundation upon which state power rests’ (1996: 567). The law is therefore an ordering tool that establishes a normative order for police territoriality, one that is divided between public and private agents of social control through changing property relations.

Whilst stadiums and the policing of sporting crowds are not directly mentioned in Sack’s theorising, he does allow that territoriality as a concept can be applied at a range of scales and that the internal architectural layout of buildings (e.g. the football stadium) can be explored through an analysis focusing on how territoriality is used as a means of establishing social control over the building’s occupants (Sack, 1986). Strategies that policing agents have traditionally employed in the policing of football matches are highly territorial, including the use of segregation fences within grounds, football banning orders, conditions of entry, escorting supporters as they arrive and depart the venue, road closures, pub closures and the extensive use of CCTV both inside and outside the stadium to monitor spectator behaviour (Giulianotti and Armstrong, 2002).

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Football Policing: an Integrated Framework

As mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, the aim was to emerge with a conceptual framework that would assist in the analysis of plural policing in the context of sporting venues. In working through the various theoretical perspectives that have been employed in previous studies of the policing of football, it becomes clear that an integrated framework is most useful for a rounded analysis that provides valuable insight into the perceptions and experiences of police, private agents (security or stewards) and football spectators. A framework that incorporates aspects of the interactionist, cultural and spatial frames will best illustrate the complexity of plural policing networks by demonstrating the way in which various social elements tend to fuse and interact. Herbert (1997: 20-21) expresses this fusion concretely when he states:

Social action always occurs in place, and thus is shaped by spatial contexts. At the same time, places themselves are always socially – and culturally – constructed. The social, the cultural and the spatial are thereby deeply intertwined.

The Goffmanasque framework used in O’Neill’s work (2004) is useful for analysing changes in the nature of public order policing at football matches. In England in particular, the performances of police officers at football matches have been severely criticised (Taylor, 1991) and this concern over their front stage performance has led police officials to shift from escalated force towards a negotiated management approach in many instances. Moreover, the cultural analysis of Marsh et al. through the concept of ritualised aggression combined with Herbert’s (1997) re- conceptualisation of Parsons’ normative orders aids in analysing the conflicting values and norms that determine behaviour of both spectators and policing officials.

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In terms of the spectator experience, it is spatial analysis that helps illustrate the sentiments that football supporters attach to the stadium as ‘home ground’ and how football clubs and their stadiums in England specially form part of geographical memories. Thus, the spatial frames assist in contextualising policing practices. Further, territoriality as a spatial concept is particularly useful for the analysis of the plural policing of football matches, as it is concerned with the manner in which agents of social control (be they public police or private security) exercise power over football spectators. But not only that, territoriality also allows for an exploration of the experiences of those being controlled (Sack, 1986: 21):

By making it a strategy it places territoriality entirely within the context of human motivations and goals. Our definition of territoriality indeed cuts across perspectives and levels of analysis. It involves the perspectives of those controlled and those doing the controlling, whether they are individuals or groups. It draws upon physical, social and psychological effects.

With regard to analysing the relationship between public police and private security, O’Neill’s finding that there exists an informal hierarchy of prestige in the policing of football is useful in informing the public-private relationship. The hierarchy is determined through consideration of front stage performance. Within that hierarchy, the policing teams directly involved in apprehending the criminal (football hooligans in this case) are seen to hold more legitimacy based on notions of real police work. O’Neill (2005) and Warren (1998) both highlight the concept of occupational culture, as serving to identify possible conflict between public police and private security based on differential mandates and varying perceptions of what actions are considered as legitimate police work. Additionally, O’Neill has considered the cultural and the spatial in the policing of football, noting that these spheres are interrelated and any analysis must take into account the interplay of action between the two.

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To summarise: by incorporating a multivariate approach to the analysis of the plural policing of football, this thesis shows that the interactional, the cultural and the spatial (which are often treated as distinctly separate) are interrelated and when jointly applied generate a more comprehensive explanation of social phenomena, in this case the plural policing of football. Previous studies on the policing of football have found that the interplay between the cultural and the spatial must be given due consideration when examining how police officers negotiate order in the context of a football match (O’Neill, 2005).

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CHAPTER FOUR: RESEARCH METHODS

Introduction

As explained in the previous chapters, plural policing networks are increasingly visible in a range of contexts, including shopping malls, community patrols, airports and leisure facilities. The majority of scholarly examination of this trend has emerged from the UK and the USA. Contributions from Australia are minimal. Further, scholars have highlighted the need to explore plural policing in a diversity of contexts (Button, 2007, Wakefield, 2003). Therefore this thesis aims to make a contribution to the field of contemporary policing by exploring plural policing in practice through an analysis of policing in the context of football matches. To date, very little empirical analysis has been undertaken to ascertain the nature of plural policing systems. It is the aim of the current study to make a contribution to understanding this trend in policing through a comparative study of the nature of policing networks at two different sporting sites, namely the Aussie Stadium in Sydney, Australia, and Anfield Stadium in Liverpool, England. In particular, this study brings into discussion the perception of three key stakeholders in the policing of sporting events: police, private security/stewards and football fans. The main questions addressed are:

 What is the nature of public order policing at football matches? How does it vary by cultural and historical context?

 What types of relationships exist between public police and private security in the policing of football matches?

 What are fans’ experiences and perceptions of how football matches are policed and what is the nature of their interactions with public police and private security?

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The Research Design

The research design used in the current study draws on the rich tradition of not only policing studies but also crowd psychology studies and hooliganism studies of the 1970s-1990s by adopting an ethnographic approach to the study of plural policing in practice. Ethnographic fieldwork projects ‘offer the most accessible means of getting to the heart of the questions about why and how groups of people do what they do in particular social contexts and settings’ (Hallinan, Hughson and Burke, 2007: 3). The Aussie Stadium in Sydney Australia and Anfield Stadium in Liverpool were chosen as case studies for analysis. Three criteria were used to select the research sites:

1. The stadiums had to employ a mixture of both public and private security personnel in a crowd control capacity (plural-policing network)

2. The venue had to be in use during the period of the study

3. The venues hosted the same sport (different sporting crowds are policed differently)

The Sydney site was chosen for analysis primarily because it was the home venue for the newly formed Sydney Football Club. Under the organisational structure for the new Hyundai A-League, clubs were organised geographically by major cities—one team per city.5 Sydney FC represented the capital city of the State in which the researcher was located. In communications with football fans on online ‘fan forums’, I was encouraged to study other venues and teams in Australia. The case of Melbourne Victory FC was suggested on several occasions because at the time, the club was in the media for disorder at its matches. Fans invited the researcher to study the case as they firmly believed that the media was misrepresenting the disorder at those matches: as one fan put it:

5 Since its inaugural season in 2005/2006 the A-League has expanded and the ‘one team per city’ policy has been abandoned. For example, there are currently two Melbourne based teams in the A-League, Melbourne Victory and Melbourne Heart.

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The media will always make us out to be thugs, nothing’s changed! But there’s something interesting happening here with supporter groups. There are a couple of groups fighting to be the leaders and to determine what happens at the ground. That’s what’s generating the conflict.

However, since the aim of the study was to study the policing network and not hooliganism or disorder per se, it was decided that Sydney FC and Aussie Stadium was an appropriate case for this study. The comparative site, Anfield Stadium in Liverpool was chosen because Liverpool as a club and as a city has been at the forefront of football both in terms of the game itself (the Club has won more honours than any other Premier League Club) but also in terms of the changes to the way English football matches are policed and managed.

The case study design was chosen as a useful approach for studying the dynamic nature of policing networks at sporting venues because it allows for the examination of plural policing in its real life context. It allows detailed description and analysis of the emergence, development, nature and sources of the event. The approach allows for the integration of several data collection methods. Using multiple methods for gathering evidence provides the opportunity for a more balanced exploration of plural policing at football matches. This pluralism in methodology was determined by the need to explore the cultural, the spatial and the interactional. The methods used in this study include semi-structured interviews, observation and analysis of documentary sources. Interviewing was conducted with participants from diverse stakeholder groups in the area of public order policing at sporting events, including police, private security/stewards and stadium management, to help enhance the validity of the data. The mixed methodology allowed observational data to be compared and contrasted with that collected from interviews and vice versa. Similarly, accounts from police officers were compared with those of private security personnel and stadium management. Insights gained out in the field were then set against a diverse range of empirical data. Triangulation of methods such as those employed in this study assists in enhancing the reliability of the data and the validity of its conclusions, as the researcher is

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able to draw on the strengths of different methods to offset the weaknesses in others (Darlington & Scott, 2002; Jones & Gratton, 2004).

A comparative approach was selected for several reasons. First, a major advantage of such comparison is its potential contribution to theory development. The principal purpose is not description, but rather the comparative case study is ‘heuristic’ in that it is used to develop and or inform theory from particular situations (Eckstein, 1975). The case study method used in this research seeks to contribute to how we theorise about plural policing, and also to understanding and interpreting the cases themselves.

Secondly, comparative research serves to prevent what Pakes (2004: 209) describes as ‘ethnocentrism,’ i.e. giving primary importance to local knowledge and local arrangements and diminishing the value of differences. Hence, the acquisition of data from comparative research in the field of policing allows for an appreciation of diverse approaches to order maintenance and policing arrangements in different contexts. For example, football events such as the World Cup attract a diversity of spectators, accustomed to different forms of expression and differing approaches to policing. Knowledge of this diversity may assist local policing bodies in developing order maintenance strategies that would assist in improved policing of visiting supporters. As the previous chapter has illustrated, cultural knowledge is paramount for positive interactions between police and football supporters.

Thirdly, comparative research serves to address the question ‘How do we compare in relative terms to other countries?’ This is particularly significant in the study of plural policing. Pluralisation in policing is viewed as a global shift, yet very little is known about the different responses to the new policing landscape. There is a need for the identification of good practice in the development of plural policing systems, of learning through the experiences of others.

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Finally, a key limitation leveled against comparative case study research concerns generalisability. In social scientific research, being able to make generalisations from findings is often considered central to the contribution a study can make to a given body of knowledge. However, Flyvbjerg (2004: 423) rightly contends that ‘predictive theories and universals cannot be found in the study of human affairs. Concrete, context-dependent knowledge is therefore more valuable than the futile search for predictive theories and universal conclusions’.

Therefore, the comparative case study approach adopted in this study seeks to provide ‘concrete, context-dependent knowledge’ and not to make generalisations. The cases serve as examples. As the following chapter in this thesis will show, conditions at each site are not the same: historical and cultural context must be considered and accounted for in any analysis.

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Table 1: Overview of the Two Case Studies

Category Anfield Stadium Aussie Stadium Structure - Opened in 1884 - Opened in 1988

Capacity - Capacity of 45,362 - Capacity of 45,500 - Average attendance of 37,500 - Average attendance of 15,300

Ownership - Stadium is owned by Liverpool - Stadium is owned by the State FC, private asset and is a public asset Management - Managed by Liverpool FC - Managed by the Sydney Cricket Ground and Sports Grounds Trust Ticketing - High proportion of season ticket - Minimal season ticket holders, holders, allowing for a higher highly changeable crowd. degree of continuity in crowd composition Public agents - A ‘user-pays’ system is in place. - A ‘user-pays’ system is in place. The Football Unit of Merseyside NSW Police, Surry Hills Local Area Police is specifically responsible for Command is responsible for coordinating officers for providing officers to the venue. deployment on football duties. However officers do not necessarily have to work in the LAC to be considered for work at the venue. Private agents - In-house trained stewards with a - Private crowd controllers are higher degree of consistency. provided by a contractor and Training is football specific. consist of licensed security officers Stewards are predominantly who are transient, with a high drawn from the local community staff turnover rate. Trained to and often have other jobs (e.g. work general crowd events. teachers, postal officers, nurses and students)

An overview of the cases used in this study is presented in Table 1 which shows that the chosen venues are very similar in terms of their crowd capacity and the use of a plural policing network for order maintenance. There are some clear differences in terms of ownership of the venue and in the use of in-house stewards versus contract private security. These differences are important as they allow for an additional set of dimensions to be explored, namely the effects that different forms of ownership might have on the plural policing partnership as well as on fans’ perceptions and experiences. Further, the difference in in-house versus contract security lends itself to an exploration of types of security providers.

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Data Collection Methods

Collection of the data used in this study took place between August 2005 and April 2007. Data gathering methods included interviews, observation, and documentary analysis. Seventy-eight interviews were conducted with a range of stakeholder groups in the policing of football matches, including police, stewards/private security, football fans, stadium management, and licensing officials (see Table 2 on page 82 for details). In addition, documents (e.g. from police and stadium management) were gathered and analysed to supplement the observational and interview data.

Observation

The use of participant observation by anthropologists, sociologists and criminologists is generally driven by Malinowski’s (1926: 146 cf. Giulianotti, 1995) famous comment that the researcher should ‘relinquish his comfortable position on the veranda’, in order to discover what is in fact occurring in diverse social settings. Consequently, the ‘unobtrusive’ method commonly referred to as participant observation has been developed by several researchers over the years (Drury & Stott, 2001; Gold, 1969; Jorgensen, 1989; Kellehear, 1993; Webb, Campbell, Schwartz & Sechrest, 1966). Gold (1969: 30-39) has developed a continuum of roles that the researcher may engage in when undertaking observation: complete participant, participant as observer, observer as participant and complete observer. The difference lies in the involvement of the researcher with the activities of the group under study. For instance, a complete participant engages fully with the participants. The opposite is true of the complete observer (Gold, 1969). Further, observation focuses on human interaction and meaning viewed from the insider’s viewpoint in everyday life situations and settings (Jorgensen, 1989: 23). This is particularly appropriate when the aim is to address questions over the nature and quality of the public-private relationship.

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For the purpose of this study, I adopted the ‘observer as participant’ role. I was upfront with all ‘gate keepers’ to the research sites and to possible interview participants about my role as a doctoral candidate and a researcher. My observations at the Australian site were undertaken during the inaugural Hyundai-A League competition which began late August 2005 and ended late February 2006. During this time I attended 10 Home games for Sydney FC at Aussie Stadium. Six of these games I attended as a spectator and spent most of my time with the home supporters in the ‘Cove’. Also I spent two matches in the ‘away supporters’ bay to observe whether there were any significant differences between the way home and away supporters experienced the security network. During these six games, I was able to observe the different approaches that private security and police resorted to when dealing with spectators and spectators’ reactions to them.

The other four games were spent observing the roles of both police and security personnel. While I was not able to shadow police officers in their duties around the stadium because of concerns for my personal safety, I was granted permission to shadow the security supervisors in charge of organising all crowd control staff on event day. Shadowing the security supervisors meant that I was able to observe the security network in great detail. I spent each ‘shift’ in one of three key security areas, including ‘event control’ (observing CCTV and radio communications), ‘base’ (from where police supervisors and security supervisors co-ordinate their resources) and the ‘process room’ (where people detained by either police or security personnel are held).

In comparison, my observations of the English case were limited and shorter in duration. This was due to access, time and cost constraints. The observations were undertaken between February 2007 and April 2007 during the 2006/2007 FA Premier League Season. I observed a total of five games, three at Anfield and two at the neighbouring Goodison Park (one of this was a Liverpool FC ‘away’ match). Each match at Anfield was spent observing three out of the five interest groups in this study (Football fans, stewards and police). The other two groups (stadium managers and football licensing officials) were interviewed but not observed as their role on match day did not allow for this. Additionally, the aim of the thesis was to explore 83 | P a g e

plural policing in practice by examining the dynamics of the relationships between the three groups that most readily come into contact during a match day.

I attended one match with Merseyside Police. This included the entire football match preparation. I attended the senior staff briefing as well as the general briefing and spent the day shadowing different officers in a range of duties, including welcoming the team coaches, turnstiles, police room and City Centre mobile patrolling which included police visits to public houses. Similarly, Anfield management granted a one day full access to the behind-the-scene functions of their safety network. During this time, I attended head steward briefings, crowd steward briefings and spent time in the control room observing interactions between representatives of police, stadium security and other emergency services staff such as ambulance personnel. Moreover, my observations included several training exercises including a discussion which involved all representatives of the safety network at the stadium addressing a mock emergency at the venue. I also attended a one night course offered by the stadium for their new stewards.

When the method of participant observation is conducted within a qualitative framework, then data collection and analysis occur simultaneously. Therefore, the current study used a combination of data collection procedures including continuous observation and time-point observation (Darlington & Stott, 2002; Jones & Gratton, 2004; Jorgensen, 1989). The observations were interpreted and analysed on the spot as they were witnessed.

Continuous observation was used to collect data throughout the duration of each football match. This technique yielded data about the general workings of each site’s policing network. This provided a context for the study. For instance, observations were made about how many private security or stewards and police personnel were present at each game, which locations around the stadium appeared to receive more attention from the policing agencies, and the general policing division of labour at the stadium.

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Time-point observation enabled the collection of data at specific moments in time. This approach generated data which was used to present a ‘snapshot’ (Sarantakos, 1998) of the relationship between private security, police and spectators. Hence, I spent time observing and analysing interactions between fans and private security/stewards at the turnstiles. I made note of how security/stewards dealt with the searching of patrons’ personal property and about patrons’ reaction to such searches, how private security/stewards reacted to queries by patrons as well as how they handled uncooperative or hostile patrons. Similarly, time was dedicated to observing interactions between patrons and police and patrons and security/stewards at stadium bars and during half-time when spectator movement was at its peak. The focus was on taking note of the approach adopted by police to deal with generally drunk spectators behaving in an unruly manner and how it differed from those adopted by private security/stewards.

Additionally, data were collected through casual conversations with fans, private security staff/stewards and police where appropriate. I kept a log book of all observations and conversations. Log entries were made directly after a match. However, during a match, data were recorded with the aid of a note book and a digital camera. While some researchers have used micro-cassette recorders to record their observations, the noise level at the stadiums made this an impractical choice for this study. Moreover, I used my note book sparingly, only when a particular piece of information was especially significant and I did not want to risk forgetting it, so as to not raise too much suspicion. I found this approach useful as it enabled the reproduction of relatively accurate observations. Reiner (2000) and O’Neill (2005) both explain how this is a useful tactic, especially when conducting fieldwork with police who tend to be highly suspicious of researchers’ note taking.

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Participant observation is a particularly useful method in the study of public order policing and crowd control at sporting events as it focuses on human interactions or communications within a natural setting. It is possible to record a phenomenon as it happens, identifying ‘true behaviour that self-report approaches cannot always reveal’ (Darlington & Scott, 2002). Therefore, the nature of the relationship between police, private security and football fans was best studied by observing and recording interactions that occurred at the stadiums during football matches.

My role as ‘observer as participant’ remained relatively constant throughout my observation time at each site. It should be noted that while in England doing my observations I was offered work as a steward at both Anfield and Goodison. While the opportunity would have provided a very detailed understanding of stewarding, time did not permit this. Furthermore, I preferred to maintain as neutral a role as I possibly could because I needed to also work with the police and I did not wish to alienate either group.

I decided to observe at least one game at each of the sites prior to any interviews, using the time to familiarise myself with the stadium, the local crowd, and gather background information on the workings of police and private security/stewards at the stadium. For example, I believed that befriending members of the fan club before asking them to participate in the study would establish trust and credibility, hence making it easier for participants to share sensitive information with me, while also being able to introduce questions relating to observations I had made in the field in future interviews. This practice enabled a type of triangulation via ‘respondent validation’ (Miles & Huberman, 1984) of interpretations made from the observational data.

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Interviewing

Semi-structured or ‘open-focused’ (Huey, 2007: 219) interviews were the second component of the multi-method approach adopted in this study. Interviews offer ‘flexibility in execution, deliberate interaction between researcher and researched and a richness of data which stems from their largely textual nature and from their grounding in the language and experience of the informants’ (Walker 1985: 7). The study aimed to understand the nature of the relationship between police, private security/stewards, and spectators at the sites. Participants would not have been comfortable reporting their dissatisfaction or criticism of one another in a group setting, particularly in the case of police and security who were part of a policing ‘partnership’ or ‘security network’. Hence the use of individual face-to-face interviews was chosen as an appropriate method.

Furthermore, the use of a semi-structured approach to the interviews meant that interviews were not conducted with a set of prepared questions but rather were guided by a list of themes or concerns that participants were asked to address. The benefit of such a flexible interview style is well articulated by Huey (2007: 219) who, in her study of skid row policing, found: ‘The nature of the questions necessarily changed from participant to participant in order to capture the beliefs, thoughts, and experiences of differently situated subjects more fully.’ This is a particular advantage when one is attempting to understand how different groups experience and perceive the same event in different ways, as is the case in this study of the plural policing of football matches.

One of the limitations of previous studies of football policing has been that field researchers have predominantly focused on a single group perspective, almost exclusively the police perspective. In cases where the perspective of the policed has been sought, these are predominantly from the perspective of ‘hooligans’ rather than general spectators. To address this imbalance in the field, the current study collected data from interviews with a range of interest groups, those that made up the security network (police and private agents) and

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those that are subjected to plural policing arrangements, the policed (football fans). Interviews were also conducted with stadium management and licensing officials who play a role in the ‘co-production’ of order at football matches. Through the monitoring and enforcement of ‘safety certificates’, licensing officials determine laws and procedures governing the policing of football and stadium managers set local rules of order. The total numbers are shown in Table 2. All interviews were digitally recorded with the participants’ consent. All participants were guaranteed anonymity and confidentiality, and the details of the study were clearly outlined for them in a participant information and consent form (see Appendix 1). On average the interviews were 45 minutes in length. The analysis was data- driven, focused on the diverse interest groups in the study and the relationships between them.

Table 2: Participants by Category and City

Subject Category Liverpool Sydney Total by Category Police 15 10 25 Private security/Stewards 206 10 30 Football fans 6 12 18 Stadium management/Safety Officers 2 1 3 Football licensing officials 2 0 2 Number of matches observed 5 10 15

Each of the interest groups represented in this study is an essential component. Their views are a crucial contribution to understanding the effects of practice and law in governing public order at football matches through networks. Participants were recruited through diverse means. The police were recruited from the local police station responsible for providing officers to the stadiums. I made contact with the commanding officer in charge of all user-pay officers working for the stadiums. The commanding officer then put me in contact with

6 Eleven of these were stewards that worked Anfield stadium. An additional nine were interviewed, who worked the neighbouring Goodison Park. 88 | P a g e

officers wishing to take part in the study. I conducted interviews with police officers ranging in rank from Senior Constable to Detective Sergeant in New South Wales and Constable to Chief Superintendent in England. The interviews with police officers focused on their policing experience at the stadium, their contact with the private security team, and their perceptions of private security officers working practices.7

To recruit football fans in both Sydney and Liverpool a snowball sampling technique was used. In Sydney, initial contact with football fans was made through an online ‘fan forum’ – ‘Sydney un-official’. Contact was made with the moderator of the forum who allowed a brief notice to be posted about the study. Through this means I was able to make contact with a couple of key members of the forum, who then introduced me to other Sydney FC supporters who were interested in participating. Recruiting football fans in Liverpool proved to be difficult. I was only in Liverpool for three months and it took some time before I was able to make connections that would facilitate access to potential participants. However, contact was made through a football researcher based at Liverpool University, who introduced me to a couple of his contacts and they then introduced me to other Liverpool supporters. Thus, access to the field was facilitated through a process of ‘snowballing’ from several key gatekeepers into the social world of football fans. At the outset of this project, several influential gatekeepers were identified and then actively sought out. These were individuals who could navigate any difficulties that might be encountered. Gatekeepers occupied both formal roles in the administration and management of football as well as being more informal gatekeepers within the fan community who were nonetheless held in high regard by other football fans. The main concern in these interviews with the fans was to get the perspectives and experiences of those subjected to contemporary public order policing arrangements employed at sporting venues.8

7 A copy of the full interview guide used in the police interviews can be found in Appendix 2. 8 A copy of the interview guide is included in Appendix 3.

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Initially I thought that the task of recruiting private security would be extremely difficult because of the client-contractor relationship in the Australian stadium. However, a positive response from stadium management facilitated access to the private security company. A problem in gaining access to private security personnel occurred in that the private security company contracted was based in Newcastle (a satellite city located 167km from Sydney) and only came over to Sydney during game days. Stadium management had made it clear that I was allowed to interview guards as long as I did not do the interviews whilst the guards were working. Consequently, it was difficult to make arrangements with private security for interviews. While several trips to Newcastle were made to interview guards, not as many security guards as police officers were interviewed.

Moreover, the nature of employment in the private security industry made it difficult to gain access to private security officers, as the stadium’s Events and Administration Manager explained, ‘I mean, the nature of the workforce … the security workforce anyway, is that they are casuals so you do have a bit of a turnover of staff anyway’. This was a significant obstacle as the most important criterion for participation in the study required private security officers to have worked at the stadium for at least six months. Six months was an appropriate length of time for private security personnel to have gained enough insight into the policing network at the stadium to make a valid and reliable contribution to the study.

In contrast, gaining access to the English stewards, who are the equivalents of private security staff in Australian sporting venues, proved to be less difficult, but still more difficult than recruiting police. I was able to interview a total of ten Anfield stewards and nine Goodison Park stewards ranging from chief stewards to exit stewards. The Safety officer at Goodison Park is an ex-police officer whom I met at a discussion I attended and he basically gave me access to his stewards. I took up the offer and hence was able to include their perceptions in the study. Stewards in England can be employed in a range of different roles outside of match days including as teachers, postman/woman, private security officers, nurses, students, stay at home mums and dads; this presented a distinct challenge for interviewing. Arranging a 90 | P a g e

time to meet was difficult, their time was highly constrained. Most stewards worked nine-to- five jobs during weekdays and stewarded football matches during weekends, and in the event of mid-week games, their evenings were also busy.

Most interviews were conducted one-on-one, but there were a few exceptions. One was a group interview with four football supporters I met at a pub in Sydney. I had arranged to interview just one of them. However, it was a Friday night and his mates were there; they were interested in the discussion we were having, and I could not prevent them from engaging in the interview. Though highly unexpected, this interview turned out to be a rich source of data: opinions and stories emerged which may not have been expressed had it been a traditional one-on-one interview.

Participants were given the option of choosing the location of their interview to offer privacy and safety, and to make them more comfortable (Jorgensen, 1989; Minichiello, Aroni, Timewell & Alexander, 1990). Locations of interviews included: police stations, at the stadium prior to a match or after a match, cafés and pubs. Interview guides were developed for each group of interviewees. The guides were also adjusted throughout the research period to include issues raised by observations in the field or by participant’s concerns.

Additional Data

Documentary sources varied and included hard-copies and web-based materials, including police annual reports, costs and revenue reports, relevant legislation and regulations and stadium plans. During interviews, I was also provided with police operational orders for the matches I was observing, stewarding safety handbooks and incident report cards, all of which were used to inform the analysis presented in this dissertation.

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Having detailed the data collection procedure for the current study, including sampling, recording and analysis, the next section will discuss the wide range of ethical considerations that researchers must acknowledge and adhere to when conducting social research.

Ethical Considerations

All social scientific research needs to observe ethical protocols relating to the research process. Therefore, in order to conduct this study I applied to and obtained ethics approval from the University of New South Wales Human Research Ethics Advisory (HREA) Panel B for Arts, Humanities and Law. Similarly, approval for speaking with NSW and Merseyside Police was obtained, although approval for NSW police was a much more formal and rigorous process than that for Merseyside. I received a formal letter from NSW Police which I was advised to carry with me while at the station interviewing staff because I had to produce it upon request by any officer. In contrast, while my preparatory email correspondence with Merseyside police seemed to indicate there may be some difficulties and delays in obtaining access, this was not the case once I arrived in person. I was simply asked to forward the University Ethics approval, a supporting letter from my supervisors and the interview guide to Merseyside Police. I then received an email indicating that the head of the Football Unit would be supporting my study and notifying me that the level of access was to be negotiated upon arrival in Liverpool. After my initial meeting, access was granted to all areas of football policing, including mounted police and police spotters and I was often asked about what aspects of policing football would interest me most to observe. Moreover, documents detailing operation orders and charges for services were freely offered as long as I used them responsibly for the study and nothing else.

To obtain informed consent from all participants I explained the purpose and goals of my study to all ‘gate keepers’. Prior to each interview, I gave participants an information statement and consent form which were signed by those who agreed to participate. Furthermore, I encouraged all participants to ask any questions, comment or raise concerns 92 | P a g e

about the study or the interviews. This was specifically emphasized to participants at the start and conclusion of interviews. While all participants were made aware of their voluntary involvement in the study, I found that stewards in England and police officers both in Australia and England were at times agreeing to be interviewed because it was a request, almost an ‘order’ from their superiors. For example, a NSW police constable was introduced to me as a possible participant. As I began to explain the study to him, he seemed distracted and when I asked him if everything was okay he explained that he had a lot of paperwork to do and was unsure about whether he had the time to take part. I explained to him that it was completely voluntary and that if he wished we could terminate the interview or reschedule for another day. He quickly said ‘No, no I’ll do it… the boss wants me to do this first.’

Another instance was in England where a club steward had agreed to the interview and was interested but he was hesitant about putting his name down and signing the consent form. I explained the role of the consent form to him once again when I saw him hesitate and mentioned that the club will not be getting a copy of this form that it was simply for my records and an ethical requirement from the university. He then asked if the Chief Steward had also been interviewed and whether he had agreed to sign the form. I replied ‘Yes’ and he said ‘Well, if they’re all doing it, then it must be okay’.

I assured all participants that any information that they provided would be stored and presented in such a manner that their comments could not be linked to them. Thus, participants were assured that information gathered from interviews was strictly confidential. Additionally, participants were made aware that they were free to not share any information with me that they felt uncomfortable providing. It was hoped that these measures would make participants more at ease about the interview process and redress the balance of power inherent in the relationship between researcher and participant. Finally, a copy of the thesis was offered to each participant group in this study. Copies will be provided to NSW Police, Merseyside Police and each of the stadiums.

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Limitations of the Current Study

The limitations of this research are associated with the scope of the study. As a study of the private security industry it is limited because of the small sample of private security personnel and its specific concern with private security guards employed as crowd controllers. However, it was never the aim of this study to provide a detailed assessment of the industry. In addition, as an account of relationships between contemporary policing networks the study is limited by its focus on public-private policing relationships within sporting venues. As a result, other forms of space are neglected and it is a recommendation of this study that further research be conducted in multiple settings where plural policing networks are active.

Another limitation to the study is the sample of football fans in the Australian case specifically. The participants in this study are not a representative sample of football fans. Participants in Sydney were recruited from the fan club of the team whose home was the stadium under investigation. Therefore, it is possible that participants’ perceptions of policing at the stadium were affected by their connection with the ground.

The limitations of the interview method have been identified by several commentators, noting the possible bias associated with it (Jones & Gratton, 2004; Huey, 2007). The concern is that participants may give answers perceived to be the answers that the interviewer wants to hear or that the characteristics of the interviewer will influence how and what information participants reveal about their experiences and views. I kept this in mind while interviewing and when analysing data. By doing this I believe that I have been able to see when these may have been an issue and highlighted it. Given the area of study I engaged in, I was aware that participants would react to me as an ethnic, female university student. I was especially aware of my gender when interviewing both football fans and police who were mainly males. My presence at both police and steward briefings was obvious as I was the only female present. In my observations I was able to note how whenever I entered a room for a briefing those present were asked to clean up their language because ‘there’s a lady present with us today’. 94 | P a g e

Also, during fieldwork in the UK, police would always make sure I had a ride home after matches and post training sessions, as they felt it was too dangerous for me to be travelling alone at night. On one particular occasion I was dropped off by the police van as it was headed back to a police station in close proximity to where I was staying. The officers had refused to let me catch the bus home when it was ‘safer’ for me to be with them. What the officers alluded to was what I had experienced in my fieldwork with football fans, the majority of whom were male, and that is that being in an aggressively masculine environment was highly confronting. There were occasions when it was very difficult to be around football fans while they sang drunken, sexist, racist and homophobic songs. As Warren notes ‘there is a trade-off between accepting sexism on the one hand and the acquisition of knowledge on the other’ (1988: 36). Similarly, Palmer and Thompson (2007: 203) in their study of drinking cultures in Australian Rules football reported the challenges faced by female researchers in highly masculine settings:

Spent the afternoon with the Groggies. The familiar (sexist) business as usual was taken to a new level with the naming of two young women/fans as the ‘Blow Job Girls’. I’m aware that my lips thin as I hear this sort of thing, yet I say nothing in the name of ‘good ethnography’. Which it is, but it’s hard to reconcile this with my personal politics. (Field notes, 19 March 2005; Palmer and Thompson, 2007: 203)

A further limitation is that of language. Pakes (2004) explains that linguistic difficulties must be considered as placing the researcher in a vulnerable position for misinterpretation when engaging in comparative research. While the author is referring to the difficulty that exists in comparative research where the researcher does not speak the native language, challenges exist even in cases where the language is the same, because meaning can be lost through a failure to identify with specific local expressions. For example, while in Liverpool during a match debrief at the stadium, the discussion got heated because of a failure by catering staff to close security doors and clear aisles efficiently during a match. As I observed this, I was unable to understand an expression that was used. It was English but I didn’t understand it. The safety officer noticing my confused expression interrupted to say, ‘What you’re observing

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here is a friendly discussion over what you Aussies would say is a bloody blunder!’ He smiled and said ‘didn’t want you to get lost in our lingo’.

Conclusion

Despite its limitations, this study provides a significant empirical contribution to an area that has been largely neglected. The study sheds light on a relatively grey area of criminological knowledge by addressing the effects that current policing arrangements have on public order policing of sporting crowds. Further, the inclusion of a comparative and historical dimension and the experiences and views of public police, private policing agents and spectators makes this study a timely exploration of plural policing in the 21st century.

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CHAPTER FIVE: THE HISTORY OF FOOTBALL AS A SPECTATOR SPORT

Introduction

Football9, famously described as ‘the beautiful game’ by one of the game’s elite, the Brazilian star Pele – is the most popular sport in the world. The ‘world game’ is another commonly used title in reference to the sport that boasts the world’s major spectator event, the FIFA World Cup. The World Cup takes place every four years. At the 2010 FIFA World Cup Finals in South Africa, 32 nations were represented, all competing for the chance to be the world’s best. Domestic leagues the world over regularly attract capacity crowds. The English Premier League, Serie A (Italian League) and La Liga of Spain are televised to worldwide audiences in the millions. The apparently universal appeal of the ‘world game’ can often lead to assumptions about the nature of the sport and about those who support it. However, as this chapter will show, the trajectory of football is affected by historical, cultural, social and political developments in the different regions where the game is played. Hence, this comparative study of plural policing networks in the context of football matches begins by considering the effects of the historical and cultural development of football in England and Australia. Contextualization is central to comparative research as Fairchild and Dammer contend (2001:9):

The fact is that a nation’s way of administering justice often reflects deep-seated cultural, religious, economic, political and historical realities. Learning about the reasons for these different practices can give us insight into the values, traditions, and cultures of other systems.

9 Referred to as ‘soccer’ in Australia; however, in accordance with international writings on the sport, the term football will appear throughout this thesis.

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In order to understand football policing, it is important to appreciate the historical and cultural contexts of football and the developments that have occurred in football spectatorship. For example in the English case, the effects of the various football stadium disasters (i.e. Bradford 1985, Heysel 1985, and Hillsborough 1989) are central to understanding and accounting for the changes that both football spectatorship and football policing in England have undergone. Similarly, the ethnic conflicts coupled with the mismanagement of the sport that have plagued the development of the sport in Australia are central to understanding the trajectory of football spectatorship and football policing in this country. In the following sections, the historical development of football as a spectator sport in England will be discussed first, followed by a similar discussion of football in Australia.

Football in England

Football in England has historically attracted large crowds, even during the 1980s when ‘hooliganism’ was a major problem to the image of the sport and the overall marketability of the game. Today, English football is a massive spectator sport with the top level domestic league, known as The Barclays Premier League, boasting some impressive statistics. The Premier League Season Review for 2009/2010 reported that 13 million attended live matches. Premier League grounds were utilised at 92.4% capacity during the 2009/2010 season, the highest spectator occupancy rate in Europe. The average attendance at the clubs situated in Merseyside, Liverpool FC and Everton FC matches, was 43,949 and 36,729 respectively. Moreover, the cumulative global TV audience for the Premier League matches was 2.90 billion viewers, with a weekly audience of 76 million (Premier League, 2010b). These statistics are seen as evidence that professional football in England has undergone an economic and cultural transformation. Scholars have been engaging significantly with this shift since the mid 1990s. Taylor (1987) examined the relationship between class and market relationships in football, King (1997b) made reference to ‘the new consumption of football’, Redhead (1997)

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and Giuilanotti (1999) examine the impact of ‘postmodernism’ on the football fan and make reference to the ‘post fan’.

The case for a significant transformation in the structure of English football in the last 20 years is based on a series of elements. Changes to governance, spectatorship and policing of English football can be attributed to the effects of a series of stadia disasters, namely the Bradford City Fire, the Heysel Stadium disaster and the Hillsborough tragedy (Elliot and Smith, 1993: Frosdick and Sidney, 1996). The reason for focusing on Bradford, Heysel and Hillsborough is that these were the incidents that had the greatest effects on the transformation of football. Prior to dealing with the effects of these disasters on the structure of English football, it is necessary to first outline each of the incidents in turn.

The Bradford City Stadium Fire

Bradford City FC was founded in 1903 and by 1908 the club had been promoted to the first division of English football. However, by the 1950s the club had fallen back to the lower divisions. According to Shaw (1985), the club was under significant financial strain, enduring threats of closure in 1965 and in 1983. The club’s financial situation was so dire that although notice had been given about the poor structural state of the main stand, the club’s secretary had not addressed the issue; this was a clear violation of the Guide to Safety at Sports Grounds (Elliot and Smith, 1993). However, only designated10 clubs were obligated to meet the guidelines while other clubs were meant to use them as a guide to best practice and strive to meet its requirements.

10 Under the provisions of the Safety of Sports Grounds Act 1975 the Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport may designate any sports ground which in his/her opinion has accommodation for more than 10,000 spectators – 5,000 in the case of Premiership or Football League grounds in England and Wales (Football Licensing Authority, 2010).

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Further, Elliot and Smith (1993) narrates how visits and letters from the Health and Safety Executive (HSE) in 1980 and 1981 alerted the club to safety concerns over the structure and potential fire risks in the main stand and also highlighted that the evacuation plan should allow for evacuation in 2.5 minutes. These letters went unanswered by club officials. Additionally, the Popplewell (1985) inquiry into the fire reported that the West Yorkshire County Council as the licensing body for the Bradford City Stadium had written a letter of support for the club in their appeal to the Football Trust for financial support. The statement by the Council advised that, ‘The timber construction is a fire hazard, and in particular, there is a build-up of combustible materials in the voids beneath the seats. A careless discarded cigarette could give rise to a fire risk’ (cited in Popplewell, 1985: 20). Additionally, a copy of the letter had been sent to the fire department who simply assumed something had been done about it. Hence, the potential risks were known not only to the club but also several statutory bodies (Elliot and Smith, 1993).

The main stand, with which the aforementioned communications were concerned, had been built in 1908. It was about 90 metres long and was set on the side of a hill. There was a gap between the stand and the ground below it. Over a period of time, a build- up of rubbish had occurred and not been removed, creating a fire hazard. Access to the stand was through a passageway along the backside of the stand. The exit gates and turnstiles were situated some distance from the passageway. The turnstiles were locked shut during games to prevent unauthorised entry, but this also prevented exit during matches. At half-time, overcrowding would occur around the toilets and refreshment bars at the back of the stand. Moreover, the roof was made of wood and contained roofing felt (Elliot and Smith, 1993). On 11 May 1985, the main stand at Bradford City Stadium burnt down during a game. Fifty-seven people died as a result. Lord Justice Popplewell was entrusted with assessing the incident and concluded that the risks had become a reality and the fire had been caused by the dropping of a lighted match or a cigarette or tobacco onto accumulated rubbish below the stand.

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Further, the government reporting on the findings of the Popplewell (1985) inquiry stated that:

The safety recommendations include a number designed to improve arrangements at sports grounds by, for example, improving evacuation procedures, the training of stewards, and the provision of fire-fighting equipment and increasing the scope of safety certificates. In all these cases the Government will be inviting the local authorities, the police and the sports authorities to respond immediately to the spirit of the recommendations. The Government will issue a fresh edition of the Guide to Safety at Sports Grounds, the 'Green Guide,' in the light of the inquiry's final report. But they will also ask certificating authorities and the police in exercising their powers to take full account of the recommendations for amending the 'Green Guide' before the issue of the new edition of the 'Green Guide'. (Lord, Glenarthur, United kingdom, House of Lords, Debates, 1985, col.1218)

The Heysel Stadium Disaster

The Heysel Stadium disaster occurred approximately two weeks after the Bradford City stadium fire. The Heysel Stadium in Brussels was chosen as the venue for the final of the European Cup between Juventus (from Italy) and Liverpool (from England). The stadium opened in 1930 and was regularly used to host football matches and other sporting events. On 29 May 1985, 38 fans died and 400 more were injured during rioting prior to kick-off. Liverpool FC supporters charged at Juventus supporters (Young, 1986). The site of the disaster was the collapse of a brick wall which was not adequately secured to the concrete foundation on which it stood. While hooliganism was a contributing factor in the fatal outcome, with Liverpool supporters reported as making three charges at Juventus supporters, the structural conditions of the Heysel Stadium were also reported to the Committee of Inquiry into Crowd Safety at Sport Grounds11, as being a significant contributor. Popplewell as Chair of the committee reported in the Final Report that:

11 The Committee of Inquiry into Crowd Safety at Sports Grounds was set up in light of the Bradford City Stadium Fire and an earlier incident at Birmingham City football stadium. The committee’s interim report was published in 1985. In preparation for the Final Report from the committee, evidence was also received and considered for the tragedy at Brussel’s Heysel Stadium. The Final Report by Popplewell was then published in 1986.

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Having regard to the state of the crush barriers and fences, and the general condition of the terraces it seems unlikely, had it been located in this country, that a certificate would have been issued under the Safety of Sports Ground Act 1975 for this part of the ground. (Popplewell, 1986: 4)

Additionally, the report highlighted the inadequacy of the segregation strategy adopted by those managing the event. The Union of European Football Associations (UEFA) had decided that the stand behind one of the goals would be allocated to Liverpool supporters, but the end section of the stand was also allocated to 'neutral’ supporters. This meant that ‘neutral’ supporters were to be located in block ‘M’ beside Juventus supporters (seated in blocks N and O) and in block ‘Z’ beside Liverpool supporters (seated in blocks X and Y). Popplewell (1986: 7) describes how ‘neutral’ blocks were infiltrated by Juventus and Liverpool supporters during the riot:

Somewhere between 18:15 and 18:30, the English fans fired flares and rockets and threw stones in Block ‘Z’, which was beginning to be occupied by what were clearly Italian supporters. There was also a number of English supporters in Block ‘Z’ who sought to escape from Block ‘Y’… it appears there were about 15,000 spectators in Blocks ‘X’ & ‘Y’ and about 5,000 in Block ‘Z’.

Elliot and Smith explain that the security arrangements were not prepared for the clash that was to follow once the segregation strategy had failed. The author contends that, just like the Bradford City fire, mismanagement of the event was a significant contributing factor, ‘Once again, one sees evidence of the lack of managerial foresight in preparing for the event’ (Elliot and Smith, 1993: 216). Further, Elliot and Smith (1993) explain that the security system, which was made up of the Brussels police (policing the Juventus end) and the National Gendarmerie (policing the Liverpool end), lacked co-ordination, and communication failures were attributed to an inadequate response to the clash once it was in motion. Similarly Popplewell (1986) reported that the Gendarmerie officer in charge of the match had failed to attend event briefings and planning meetings with the stadium management and with the Brussel police prior to the match. 102 | P a g e

As a result of the Heysel disaster UEFA handed English clubs an indefinite blanket ban (which was eventually lifted after five years) from European competition. UEFA laid the blame for the incident solely on the Liverpool fans. There were 27 arrests on suspicion of manslaughter – the only extraditable offence applicable to events at Heysel. The majority of those arrested were from Merseyside. Some of these people had previous convictions for football-related violence. In 1989, after a five month trial in Belgium, 14 Liverpool fans were given three year sentences for involuntary manslaughter. Half the terms were suspended and it is unclear how many served their sentences. The behaviour of sections of the Liverpool fans was inexcusable, but Liverpool FC did raise serious questions over the suitability of the stadium, ticketing arrangements and inadequate policing for such a high profile event (Scraton, 1999).

The Council of Europe introduced the European Convention on Spectator Violence and Misbehaviour at Sports Events less than three months after Heysel (Council of Europe, 1985). The Convention aimed to enhance prevention and control of spectator disorder at football matches by promoting co-operation between the football authorities and the police and highlighting the importance of segregation of opposing fans, alcohol bans and the prohibition of potentially dangerous objects (Spaaij, 2006).

The Hillsborough Stadium Tragedy

The Hillsborough Football Stadium opened in 1899. It had been modified to meet the requirements of the 1975 Safety at Sports Ground Act and the subsequent revisions made to the Home Office Guide to Safety at Sports Grounds, following the Popplewell inquiries in 1985 and 1986. Scraton (2004: 185) notes that:

Hillsborough was considered by the football authorities to be one of England’s best grounds. While parts of the stadium had been upgraded, the essential fabric of the Lepping Lane terrace was unchanged. Previous lessons regarding crowd safety had been ignored and the modification to the terrace prioritized crowd control and segregation.

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The Leppings Lane end situated to the west of the ground was made up of terracing close to the pitch with the west stand situated right behind the terraced area. The stand accommodated 4,456 seated spectators and the terracing in front of the stand had a total capacity of 10,100 standing. Access to the field of play was barred by perimeter fencing. Additionally, the terrace at the Leppings Lane end had crush barriers parallel with the goal line and radial fences at right angles, creating a series of seven pens. There was restricted access into each pen through a narrow, locked gate (Taylor, 1989). Further, Taylor (1989: 5) stated that ‘the other two sides of the ground, north and west, with a capacity of 24,256 were fed solely from the Leppings Lane entrance where there were only 23 turnstiles.’

Scraton (2004: 186) describes the dangers generated by the structural makeup of the venue as follows:

The outmoded turnstiles regularly malfunctioned. Although an electronic counting system recorded the numbers accessing the terrace there was no way of knowing the distribution between the pens. The two central pens, with capacities of 1,000 and 1,100, were always the first to fill. The doors at the head of the tunnel feeding the central pens could be closed once it was estimated that the pens’ capacities had been reached. It was a calculation based on observation rather than actual numbers entering.

On 15 April 1989 a semi-final match of the FA Cup competition was to take place between Liverpool FC and Nottingham Forest FC. Hillsborough Football Stadium was chosen as the neutral venue. The policing arrangements on the day consisted of 1,122 police officers deployed to police the match which amounted to 38% of the total South Yorkshire Police Force (Taylor, 1989). The mounted section of 34 included officers from Liverpool and Nottingham. Their role was to assist in marshalling their home supporters into the ground. A further 376 stewards were provided by Sheffield Wednesday, the football club whose home ground is Hillsborough, to assist in crowd management and safety. A sudden late influx of an additional 2000 spectators into the central pens led to a severe crush, which was made worse by surges in the crowd when the match started (Scraton, 2004). Six minutes into the game, 104 | P a g e

play was stopped when it was realised that spectators on the terraces behind the Liverpool goal had been severely crushed, 95 died and over 400 received hospital treatment (Taylor, 1989).

The HSE incident report following the tragedy listed a series of structural elements that did not conform to statutory requirements. For example, the report notes that ‘The heights of crush barriers should be 1.02m to 1.m with a preferred height of 1.1m. In Pen 3 four out of five barriers do not conform. In Pen 4 six out of nine barriers do not conform.’ (Nicholson, 1989). The official inquiry headed by Lord Justice Taylor (1990) concluded that the ‘main cause’ of the disaster was ‘overcrowding’ and the ‘main reason’ was a ‘failure of police control’. Taylor was also highly critical of Sheffield Wednesday FC, their safety engineers and the local authority that neglected to issue an up-to-date licence for the venue. Taylor recommended a complete overhaul in the way that football grounds were structured and football operations organised, resulting in the move from terraces to all-seater stadiums. Elliot and Smith (1999: 21) describe the impact of the 1989 Hillsborough disaster: ‘Lord Justice Taylor’s Inquiry into the disaster proved to be the catalyst for radical change in the stadia industry.’

The UK Football Industry

The incidents outlined in the previous section have shown how changes in the structure and organisation of football in the UK were propelled by a series of stadium disasters. The legislative effects of the Popplewell (1985, 1986) and Taylor (1989, 1990) inquiries will be discussed in greater detail in the next chapter on the organisation of football. For now the concern is with the effects on the spectatorship and the restructure of English football as a viable consumer product.

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The 1980s saw English football generally and the Merseyside football clubs (Liverpool FC and Everton FC) specifically take some heavy blows to its marketability as a consumer product. Several factors had left English football in need of finance. These included the poor structural state of football venues, the ‘hooligan’ problem and the inability to compete for the top players as clubs in continental Europe offered footballers more lucrative contracts. The Football League First Division, which had been the top level of English football since 1888, was well behind leagues such as Italy's Serie A and Spain's La Liga in attendances and revenues (Premier League, 2010a).

The costs of implementing the recommendations of the various inquiries and concerns over the League’s ability to attract and retain top quality footballers left several football clubs disillusioned with the state and direction of the Football League. Chester (1983) quoted a figure of $11 million as representing the costs of complying with the 1975 Safety at Sports Grounds Act and a further $50 million was reported as being spent on upgrades to stands and other ground refurbishments between 1970 and 1983. Consequently, on 17 July 1991, the game’s top-flight clubs signed the Founder Members Agreement that led to the formation of the FA Premier League and the break-up of the 104-year-old Football League that had operated until then with four divisions. One key component of the agreement was that the newly formed top division would have commercial independence from the Football Association and the Football League, giving the FA Premier League license to negotiate its own broadcasting and sponsorship agreements. It was hoped that this would result in increases in revenues to meet expenditures of maintaining not only well structured facilities for football spectators but also allow English clubs to place competitive bids for world class players to join the League.

In 1992, television rights were sold to Sky TV with the initial deal being worth £191 million over five years. More recently, to televise Premier League matches in 2007-2010, Sky and Setanta paid £1.7 billion. Furthermore, sponsorship deals over naming rights have generated

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sizeable profits. For instance, in 1993 Carling paid £12 million for four years and a 300% increase for the next four years. Then in 2001 Barclaycard sponsored the league for £48 million over three years. Finally, in 2004 Barclay took over with their renewal price for 2007 amounting to £65.8 million for three seasons (Premier League, 2008). Therefore, combinations of broadcasting rights and sponsorship deals have made the Premier League one of the world’s most commercially viable football competitions. Consequently, English football has become a global phenomenon. Football clubs themselves have also become increasingly international.

Continued participation in UEFA competitions is central to any club it is a lucrative opportunity. A study (Chadwick, 2008) commissioned by MasterCard, the official sponsors of UEFA’s Champions League Competition, reported that clubs who made it to the knockout stage of the competition earned an average of €38.45 million. Furthermore, the study also suggests the team which wins the final could make up to €110.35 million in the process. These financial injections will come via a UEFA participation payment; UEFA prize money; a share of UEFA commercial revenues from the tournament (market pool payment); ticket sales; commercial and marketing revenues, including sponsorship and sales of merchandise, food and beverages; and increased squad value (Chadwick, 2008). The commercial viability of European football is described as strong in spite of an economic downturn:

In uncertain economic times, sport’s universal appeal remains strong, making it one of the most lucrative industries to be involved in. The competition continues to be an important source of revenue and commercial activity for clubs, especially for those that qualify for the knockout phase of the competition. (Chadwick, 2008: 15)

Hence football has become big business and no club can risk missing out, so much so that the experiences of football supporters has changed both when they visit a venue but also in terms of how clubs and football Organisations market to them. Importantly for the commercial viability of football in England, the Taylor Report also rejected the compulsory membership scheme. The clubs and the football authorities welcomed this since they objected to the

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detrimental effect of the membership scheme on their principal source of revenue: ticket sales (Murphy et al., 1990: 217; Taylor, 1991: 170).

Football Fans: from Hooligans to Consumers

Coupled with the improved commercial viability of the sport in England has been a disassociation from what are perceived as ‘undesirable’, ‘rough’, ‘hooligan’ supporters. The experiences of Liverpool fans are used to illustrate the cultural shift of football fans in England from ‘hooligans’ to consumers. King (1997b: 232) claims that, with the modernization of stadiums and the focus on professionalism in the sport, ‘Fans were to become customers... [and] the notion of the customer, who paid more for better service, implied a shift of football support towards more affluent sections of society.’ Further, Duke (2002: 5), writing on the transformation of football spectator culture in England, argues that, ‘In what is the homeland of football as a spectator sport, traditional fan culture is under threat.’

Historically football spectator culture in England has its root in the leisure experiences of the working class. Sandvoss (2003) argues that there exists an historical interdependence between football and industrialism in England. The earliest form of football identified in England was ‘folk football’, which was an unregulated form of the game played by the lower classes. There were no distinctions between those playing and those observing the game. Bale (1993: 13) describes it as ‘a mass participatory event blurring distinctions between actor and spectator reminiscent of the traditional carnival.’ Carnibella, Fox, Fox, McCann, Marsh and Marsh (1996: 18) argue that due to the unorganised nature of the original form of the game, football has from its very genesis been characterised by violence and aggression:

The original ‘folk’ form of the game, most often played on Shrove Tuesdays and other Holy Days, involved only slightly structured battles between the youth of neighbouring villages and towns. The presence of a ball, in the form of a leather-bound inflated pig’s bladder, was almost incidental to this semi- legitimised opportunity for settling old scores, land disputes, and engaging in ‘manly’, tribal aggression.

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The transformation of the game from ‘folk football’ to an organised and regulated spectator event occurred through the processes of urbanisation and industrialisation which resulted in the marking out of space and in new forms of rationalism (Carnibella et al., 1996). Cunningham (1980: 76) argues that these changes formed a connection between leisure and class:

The wealthy tried, successfully in many instances, to appropriate... public spaces for their own exclusive use, to privatise them. At the same time... they frowned on and became suspicious of public gatherings of the lower orders for whatever purpose. The result was that leisure became increasingly class-bound. The leisure class retreated to the home or to those fenced-off private enclosures... and those excluded sought new patrons in publicans... leisure became class-bound and impenetrable for those outside the class in question.

Through the expansion of private property and the ‘fencing’ of space, the lower classes were driven into negotiating the demands of ‘capitalist rationalization’ (Sandvoss, 2003: 4). Aston Villa was one of the first professional football clubs to introduce gate charges in England in 1874 (Guttmann, 1986). Organised spectator football was further developed by the introduction of the half-day Saturday. This provided workers with the additional leisure time that had previously been absent. Duke (2002: 10) argues that ‘Still evident to this day in working class culture is the tradition of going to the pub Saturday lunchtime, followed by the match in the afternoon.’ Harvey (2004) suggests the practice of ‘folk football’ could no longer be a part of the emerging patterns of industrial life. Spectator football became part of broader popular culture that included drinking and gambling. Hence, ‘folk football’ gave way to the development of the working class culture of mass spectatorship. Inglis (1995) argued that the stadiums that were built in the 19th century to accommodate the growth of spectator football became an extension of the processes of industrialism and urbanisation: ‘Football stadia looked like factories around the little stretch of turf; the giant, civic crowds looked like the workforce going through the factory gates (Inglis, 1995: 53).

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Carnibella et al. (1996) explain that football in the early 1900s remained a working class pastime, in spite of the attempts by the middle-classes to ‘refine’ the sport through playing rules, regulation, and spatial containment. The popularity of the sport among the working class is evident in that most of the new football grounds that were built at the time were constructed within working class communities and football clubs drew their fan base from these communities (Crabbe and Brown, 2004). Holt (1990) contends that football’s appeal rested on the tradition of naming clubs after districts (e.g. Chelsea FC) and cities (e.g. Liverpool FC) and that this provided an avenue through which a sense of civic pride and identity could be expressed. Football clubs emerged during an era when the populace felt displaced as a result of rapid change and urbanisation. Similarly, Duke (2002: 10) suggests that football clubs provided supporters with ‘symbolic citizenship and constantly reaffirmed their pride of place.’ For example, Williams (2001: 99) describes the traditional role of Liverpool FC and Everton FC in Merseyside: ‘the two football clubs acted as collective points of city communion, continuity and neighbourhood solidarity, especially for working class men.’

Following the Second World War, football in England continued to become even more organised. Williams (2001) describes how changes in the organisation of football were mirrored by changes in the customs of spectator culture. In particular, he identifies the 1960s as marking a significant change in spectator culture. It was then that fans began to organise themselves and adopted the use of chants, slogans and orchestrated waving displays. Moreover, the ease of mobility through the rail system allowing for group travel to away matches and greater television coverage assisted in the spreading of the varying styles across England. However, these new forms of travelling expressions of support were accompanied by increased vandalism on trains (Williams, 2001). All of this continued to associate disorder and violence with the working class, male football supporter.

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As described above, by the early 1990s, following a series of stadium disasters in which dilapidated grounds, inadequate policing arrangements and hooliganism were identified as serious concerns, there was a further push to improve the state of spectator football in England. Taylor (1987) argues that the nature of the sport was significantly changed by what he refers to as the ‘embourgeoisement’ of English football. This is the process by which football spectators were made, through the regulation, policing and commercialisation of the sport, to be more ‘civilized’ (Dunning, 2000). Hence ‘acceptable’ spectators were identified as middle-class in manners and attitudes. The football club was no longer a working class, neighbourhood institution. It became a product that could be sold to paying customers. Further, Dunning argues that this process of ‘embourgeoisement’ of football was part of a more general ‘collapse’ of the traditional working-class weekend.

In the 1970s and early 1980s, a number of clubs had experimented with membership schemes in an attempt to prevent ‘unwanted’ fans from entering their grounds (Taylor, 1991). Leicester City, for example, launched its own partial membership scheme only five months prior to the Heysel tragedy. At Luton Town, following the incidents provoked by Millwall fans in April 1985, a home-fans-only membership scheme was introduced. This scheme constituted the first systematic attempt by any football club to exclude all away fans (Murphy et al., 1990: 218- 219).

The suggestion from the UK government at the time was to bring more middle-class families into football, to create an identity card system for all fans, and encourage more police campaigns aimed at being tough on hooliganism (King 1997a). These proposals illustrate the desire to enhance social control through increased monitoring and surveillance of football fans who were perceived as predominantly working class and less civilised than the middle class. A positive outcome of Heysel was the emergence of the non-club based, national supporters group, the Football Supporters Association (FSA), which began the organisation of football supporters to defend their rights against increasingly demonising images in the media 111 | P a g e

and to highlight the punitive nature of strategies aimed at football supporters around England (Crabbe, 2003). English supporters at large were seen by the UK government and the police as aggressive and violent. Hooliganism became known in popular media as the ‘English disease’ (Garland and Rowe, 1999). Crowd attendances at Premier League matches wavered and those who saw the lucrative potential of football in England and Europe sought to improve the image of the sport through banning orders for disorder, improved stadium design and the Green Guide for stadium safety at football matches which was created in the aftermath of Hillsborough.

Even after the various stadium disasters, FA and police policy concentrated on crowd control instead of on the clear inadequacy of the grounds themselves. In addition, the perception that crowd disorder or misbehaviour not structural issues was to blame for the disasters that were taking place within football grounds was fuelled by the Heysel disaster, as previously described. The ‘blame the crowd’ approach served as a convenient justification for the clubs who were under-investing in buildings that were a public hazard because they were so dilapidated, unsafe and poorly designed. It took the incident at Hillsborough to force the safety of football grounds up the political agenda. It was not until the Taylor inquiry that a clear link between structural and crowd issues was made and addressed. Football clubs made changes and increasingly linked these alterations to the venues to the commercial marketability of the game. Duke (2002) describes the shift in football spectator culture as the ‘Americanisation’ of English football:

The American model of sport is more commercially oriented than the traditional English structure with key roles for advertising, sponsorship and particularly television. The primary function of sports team franchises is profit making. Sport is viewed as a branch of the entertainment industry, which results in a different relationship between spectator and team; the discerning consumer replaces the committed fan. (Duke, 2002: 5)

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Therefore, while English football has its roots in working class culture there has been a constant movement to restructure, re-package and regulate the sport so as to create greater commercial viability by excluding or removing the ‘rough’ element from the supporter base as these are seen to negatively affect the marketability of the sport. The new structure of football seeks to attract and maintain ‘genuine’ supporters (Hughson and Poulton, 2008: 512). In the ‘new England’:

Genuine fans are to be regarded as those prepared to abide by the behavioural dictates set down by the FA. The attendant appeal to a broader demographic appears as an attempt to become socio-culturally inclusive in keeping with the contemporary public agenda. (2008: 512)

However, Crabbe and Brown (2004) contend that even though there is an expressed commitment by the FA towards diversity and inclusion within English football fan culture, it is rarely witnessed in practice.

Supporting Football in Merseyside

The experiences of Liverpool FC supporters are illustrative of the changes in football spectator culture in England. Liverpool fans were predominantly made up of the working class males who resided in the city, the factory and ship workers who gave rise to the industrial city of Liverpool. Yet recent club figures show that as Liverpool FC has become a more globalized club, neighbouring Everton FC has become the local club. Figures from club officials show that 80% of Everton FC supporters who attend football matches held at Goodison Park live within a 20 km radius of Liverpool. In contrast, less that 50% of Liverpool FC supporters who attend Anfield for home matches live in Liverpool. This makes a difference to the way that these respective spaces are policed. Police themselves keenly pointed out to the researcher that you get a different crowd of people attending Liverpool matches compared with Everton matches. Everton matches attract younger, working class males who, in the eyes of the police, are most likely to cause disorder and are therefore a greater risk for safety management. In contrast, 113 | P a g e

the spectators at Anfield are older and drawn from the middle class who have greater access to disposable income for spending on football. They are regarded as low-risk spectators. emergence of the non-club based, national supporters group, the Football Supporters Association (FSA), which began the organisation of football supporters to defend their rights against increasingly demonising images in the media and to highlight the punitive nature of strategies aimed at football supporters around England (Crabbe, 2003). English supporters at large were seen by the UK government and the police as aggressive and violent. Hooliganism became known in popular media as the ‘English disease’ (Garland and Rowe, 1999). Crowd attendances at Premier League matches wavered and those who saw the lucrative potential of football in England and Europe sought to improve the image of the sport through banning orders for disorder, improved stadium design and the Green Guide for stadium safety at football matches which was created in the aftermath of Hillsborough.

The difference in support between Liverpool FC and Everton FC may be attributed to the success of Liverpool FC in domestic and European competitions. Since the introduction of the Premier League in 1992, Liverpool FC has consistently finished in the top four of the English Premier League. The club has won seven major trophies, including: the Champions League, the UEFA Cup, two FA Cups, three League Cups, and in 2001 Liverpool FC claimed an unprecedented treble by winning the League Cup, FA Cup and UEFA Cup (Premiere League, 2011). In comparison, neighbouring Everton FC has consistently finished outside of the top four, with the exception of the 2004/2005 season when they finished fourth in the Premier League. In the 2008/2009 football season Everton FC made it to the final where they lost to Chelsea FC (Premiere League, 2011). Therefore, Liverpool FC’s current supporter base is a function of on field success. Similarly, Everton’s support is predominantly local because it has yet to experience the degree of success that would draw international attention.

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The cost of attending a football match at Anfield Stadium emerged as a significant concern for the Liverpool FC supporters who were interviewed for this study. The cost made it difficult for fans to attend live matches on a regular basis and left fans with a sense of alienation from their club. The following comment articulates the conditions faced by football fans:

Going to football nowadays is just too bleeding expensive! Football has steadily been taken away from the working class for years now. Basically if you go to the football one weekend, it means you got to choose between having a pie and having a drink! Everything is just so much more expensive, that’s why at times I don’t attend the live match but just head to my local *pub+ and watch the match there with a few mates... for many of us lads it’s all we can afford, especially as you would know, economically the country is in a shit hole right now. (Liverpool FC supporter #006)

Liverpool FC supporters were also aware that the supporter base at Anfield is becoming less local and more global. When speaking about Liverpool FC’s plans to build a bigger stadium, a football fan commented that:

I personally think we could fill a 90,000 stadium on weekends, but prices would have to be more reasonable. But I think the problem would be filling the stadium during the mid-week games, Mondays or Wednesdays, because you wouldn’t get the out-of- towners coming in – and they make up a decent percentage – as they would have to go off to work in the morning. It’s a bit of a dilemma. (Liverpool FC supporter #002)

Other than the impacts of commercialism and globalisation on football in Merseyside, the legacy of Hillsborough is often cited by Liverpool fans as being central to supporting Liverpool FC. Hillsborough had a great impact not just on football but also on the city of Liverpool and its populace. As Williams (2001: 115) explains:

Hillsborough also remains sensitively high in the public consciousness of the city because of the highly moralistic way it has been linked by the national press and TV with wider social issues in Liverpool, including the alleged excessive ‘sentimentality’ of people in the city, but especially perhaps the social context of the later Jamie Bulger

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Killing – poverty, parenting, family dysfunction, etc. – and with Liverpool’s alleged endemic problem of crime... what was truly shameful... were the police attempts to continue to fly the drunken fans/broken gate stories about alleged Liverpool ‘hooligans’ – later aided by the Sun – and seemingly to treat the bereaved like little more than contemptible rubbish.

During the media coverage of Hillsborough, The Sun newspaper printed its infamous ‘truth’ article which claimed that Liverpool FC ‘yobs’ had been responsible for causing the Hillsborough disaster, had stolen money from the pockets of dead bodies and urinated over them, and beaten up police officers assisting the severely injured (Scraton, 1999; Scraton, 2004). Subsequent investigations proved the allegations to be false, and this led to a city-wide protest against the newspaper, including burnings of the newspaper in the city streets and a boycott on its sale and purchase. Even to this day, some store owners refuse to stock the newspaper. Many organisations were set up as a result of the disaster, such as the Hillsborough Justice Campaign, which represented bereaved families, survivors and supporters who campaigned for justice for the 96 people who died at Hillsborough. The following comment from a Liverpool FC supporter demonstrates the significance of Hillsborough:

The way in which our fans were betrayed is scandalous. We went to a football match to see our heroes reach Wembley, that’s all, we didn't expect to walk into that carnage, and we didn't deserve it. South Yorkshire Police and the British media shit all over us. It’s important that all reds12, especially young reds know about Hillsborough, the truth about it not some media driven propaganda. (Liverpool FC Supporter #005)

In response to increasingly punitive measures to control football spectators, fans across the UK have become increasingly organised. In 1985, the Football Supporters Association was founded to represent the views of ordinary supporters in the wake of the Heysel Stadium disaster. Furthermore, Independent Supporters Associations (ISAs) emerged at club level to contest proposed changes (Taylor, 1991). The following extract from an interview with a Liverpool fan shows the significance of organised supporter groups:

12 ‘Reds’ and ‘Mighty Reds’ are common nicknames for Liverpool FC and their supporters. The nickname is a reference to the colour of the club’s home kit, red.

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It is truly sad but true that it took the death of 96 Liverpool supporters, of our own, for things to change in football. I know since Hillsborough, football is very different. The police and the stewards are all much more organised and in a way, they *have+ got to be because we ain’t going to put up with it. We’re organised and we have some power and influence, there are a lot of us around and we know how to make noise about what truly matters! (Liverpool FC Supporter #004)

A legacy of Hillsborough has been the impact of the Taylor inquiry in hastening the modernisation of English stadiums. The strategies of increasing containment and surveillance of football spectators came under scrutiny following Hillsborough. Despite the allegations that fault lay on the inherent violent nature of football spectators and the aggressiveness of the people of Liverpool in particular, the official inquiry into the incident found that the causes were overcrowding and a failure of police control (Taylor, 1990). The dominant law-and-order approach, notably the erection of high perimeter fences, was at the heart of the disaster:

The determining cause, if this is the appropriate word, of the Hillsborough disaster was, indeed, the way in which the Leppings Lane terrace, like so many of the ‘popular ends’ at English soccer grounds, had been reconstructed over the years as a caged-in ‘pen’ from which there was no means of escape at a predictable moment of crisis of mass spectator excitement and anxiety (Taylor, 1990: 95).

The implementation of the Taylor report recommendations brought about substantial improvements to the physical structure of football grounds. The impact of Hillsborough was widespread because the evidence of the Taylor inquiry showed that most English football grounds could have just as easily been the location for such a disaster. In fact, at the time Hillsborough was considered by football authorities to be one of the best grounds in England (Scraton, 2004: 185; Taylor, 1990: 4).

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Lord Justice Taylor’s report into the Hillsborough disaster initiated a new approach to crowd management at football grounds in Britain. The final report discussed a number of fundamental problems facing British football, the poor state of football grounds and the effects of hooliganism and segregation on the general experiences of football spectators. Taylor made the following recommendations:

(i) The gradual replacement of terraces with seated areas at all venues by the end of the twentieth century (with all First and Second Division grounds being converted into all-seater stadia by the start of the 1994/95 season and all Third and Fourth Division grounds by 1999/2000)

(ii) The installment of CCTV systems at all football grounds

(iii) The formation of an Advisory Design Council to advise on ground safety and construction and to commission research into this area

(iv) The prohibition of perimeter fences of over 2.20 meters tall or with spikes on the top and

(v) The prohibition, by creating criminal offences, of three specific activities within the ground: missile throwing, chanting obscene or racialist abuse, and going on the pitch without reasonable excuse. (Taylor, 1990:76-82)

According to Frosdick (1999) the neglect of safety issues in British football grounds was a result of a combination of both social and economic factors that merged to create an atmosphere of complacency in management and government.

Hooliganism is still spoken about in the media and by police officers interviewed for this study. However, there is a strong emphasis on disassociating those who engage in crowd disorder from those that are the ‘genuine’ football supporter who is interested in the football and not on anything else. The ‘genuine’ supporter is often described as an individual who is rational, friendly, loyal in their support of the club, vocal but not over the top, able to follow instructions and complacent, so that the disorderly is anyone who does not fit this model and must therefore be ‘kept an eye on’. 118 | P a g e

In contrast to this model, data collected from supporter forums and interviews for this study indicates that for football fans, ‘genuine’ supporters are those who are loyal by attending regular home and away fixtures, who are vocal about their support and stand for maintaining the experiences at Anfield as one linked back to the tough ‘scallie’ who doesn’t take anything from anyone and stands even when stewards and police encourage supporters to be seated. Interviews with football fans revealed that those fans who saw themselves as not having ‘sold out’ to the commodification of football defined themselves as being more ‘genuine’. For instance, one Liverpool FC supporter (#006) mentioned that ‘genuine’ supporters were no longer showing up to matches completely decked up in the team’s kit because if you showed up like that, it showed that you had bought into the commercialisation of the club and you were actually seen as not being a ‘true’ Liverpool FC supporter, just an avid consumer.

Professional football clubs do have an economic impact on a city. A report from the Football Research Unit at the University of Liverpool (Hall, 2003) concluded that 3, 000 full-time and 1, 400 part-time jobs on Merseyside are dependent on the presence of the two football clubs and that 750, 000 visitors come to the city every year specifically because of football. There is a need to maintain and strengthen the bond with the local supporters as football at Liverpool becomes more and more commercial. This approach is consistent with the development of the Liverpool FC brand as a successful football club that cares about its roots. Hence, there is presently an attempt in English football to shift supporter base away from the ‘troublesome’ working class support towards a more affluent consumer. The restructure of spectator culture in England is occurring on the basis of class. In contrast, as the next section will show, spectator football in Australia is also seeking to restructure its supporter base away from traditional ethnic affiliation towards a more ‘mainstream’ supporter base.

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Football in Australia

Four codes of football are played in Australia: Australian Rules Football, known as ‘Aussie Rules’, rugby league, rugby union, and football (soccer). Mosley (1995:213) has argued that football (soccer) is the only one of the four codes ‘with a genuinely national dimension’. Over a decade ago, the author suggested that football had not ‘entered the Australian soul’ largely because the sport laboured ‘under the slur of being foreign’ (Mosely, 1995: 214). Football in Australia has historically been perceived as an ‘ethnic game,’ sometimes derogatorily called ‘wogball’.

The history of football in Australia is closely aligned with the history of immigration. Football was first played in Australia by immigrants from the British Isles. However, it was not until the arrival of Eastern and Southern European immigrants in the 1950s that football became a popular organised sport. Thus began the struggle between two forms of organisational structure: one based on immigrant controlled football federations, consisting of clubs that were owned, managed and supported by members of one single ethnic group; and the other based on districts and regional allegiance. The difference between these two forms of organisational structure is referred to by Danforth (2001: 370) as the ‘ethnic club system’ and the ‘Anglo- Australian system’. The conflict between these two organisational structures continued to plague football in Australia well into the 1990s (Hay, 2006; Hughson, 2001; Lock, 2009).

The ‘ethnic club system’ which dominated the organisation of football in Australia up until the end of the 1990s was based on the principle of ethnic nationalism. Danforth (2001: 370) explains the significance of the ‘ethnic club system’ for ethnic communities in Australia:

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Ethnic soccer clubs served as powerful symbols of the diaspora communities they represented. They played important roles in fostering ethnic solidarity and pride in the face of the assimilationist pressures of Australian society.

As the above comment by Danforth shows, football clubs provided a sanctuary to immigrant communities. This was more so for some than for others. Hughson (2001) in his work with the Croatian community in Sydney has argued that Croatian ethnicity was a stronger binding force than Italian heritage in relation to football clubs. The difference was attributed to the Italian club (Marconi) making a concerted effort to expand its supporter base by appealing to the wider local community. Similarly, research has found that Croatian soccer clubs in New South Wales played an important role in educating young Croats in the traditional loyalties of their homeland (Mosely, 1995). While highlighting the important contribution by immigrant groups to sporting culture, Mosely (1995) also noted that there was a history of certain ethnic groups using football matches as an avenue to vent hostilities based on social and political conflict. The author cited the Serbians and the Croatians as having a significant history of conflict at soccer grounds. In contrast, Hay (1994) found evidence to suggest that there had been positive changes in the relationship between Serbians and Croatians as a result of competition involving football clubs that were ethnically affiliated. Although violence had occurred on occasion between the two groups, Hay observed that given the residual political issues between these groups, it was ‘remarkable’ that violence at football matches was largely restrained.

The mass media has played a role in developing public perceptions of football riots and their ethnic links. Hughson (2001: 46) argued that inflammatory media reportage provided ‘a stark image of “ethnicity” against which “Australian-ness” might be celebrated.’ Connections between football and distinct ethnic communities across Australia have therefore generated an image of football as ‘un-Australian’ (Danforth, 2001; Hallinan, Hughson and Burke, 2007; Hughson, 2001, Vamplew, 1994a). Similarly, Warren and Hay (2009: 125) have observed that:

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The occurrence of sporadic and highly localized conflicts between rival Greek and Macedonian or Serb and Croatian football fans has generated a popular misconception that ‘un-Australian’ ethnic conflicts go hand-in-hand with soccer fandom.

This popular misconception has resulted in the push to ‘de-ethnicise’ Australian football with the goal of attracting more ‘mainstream’ supporters to improve the commercial viability of the sport. Many within the Australian football community have also commented that football has come of age; there is an expectation that the domestic league in Australia will increase in popularity, and football will finally receive its day in the sun (Craig Foster 2006, SBS Commentary during coverage of the 2006 FIFA World Cup). It is difficult to conclusively explain why football, a significantly popular spectator sport globally, has failed to receive the same attention from Australians, for whom sport is a significant cultural component. However, a good beginning is to present a history of football in Australia, which will be complemented by comments from interviews undertaken with football fans.

The Legacy of the NSL

Football as ‘Wog ball’

The National Soccer League (NSL) was the former national football competition in Australia, overseen by Soccer Australia (SA) and later the Australian Soccer Association (ASA). Although the NSL was replaced by the new Hyundai A-League in 2005, the NSL is significant to the history of football as a spectator sport in Australia. The NSL commenced in 1977, three years after the Socceroos13 played in their first World Cup. Many of the clubs were formed from European immigrant communities, drawing their support base from those communities (Warren, 2002). For example, the Melbourne team had links with the Croatian community to the extent that the team had at various times been named Croatia, Melbourne Croatia, and Melbourne CSC. Similarly, other clubs had nationalistic links as illustrated by the following club

13 ‘Socceroos’ is the nickname given to the Australian national team.

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names: Sydney Croatia, Marconi Fairfield, and Wollongong Macedonia. Hay (2001) explains that the expression of ethnic identity via football support was a post-war cultural tradition in Australia. The inflow of immigrants from Southern Europe utilised football to create community spirit. Moreover, the popularity of the sport with immigrants from south-eastern Europe and the increased involvement of these immigrants in the administration of football competitions in Australia, ranging from amateur to semi-professional levels, led to the pejorative phrase ‘wog ball’ in reference to the ‘world game’ otherwise known as football (Vamplew, 1994b, p.209).

The consequences of this for football as a spectator sport were twofold. Interviews with football supporters reveal that many of them did not actively follow the NSL because they felt alienated from the sport; they had no ethnic links and failed to have any connection with the clubs in the league. The following comment was made by Sydney FC supporter #007, who is a 35 year old male of Anglo-Australian descent. The supporter has always had an interest in football, but has not been actively involved as a football supporter because the structure of the NSL clubs alienated him from building the necessary attachment to the sport. His comment is typical of the sentiments expressed by football fans interviewed for this study:

Been following football, mostly from an overseas perspective ‘cause I never could get into the local game. I followed football as a kid, followed my dad around in Brisbane for like, ten years, so did a lot there. Then I had a break, rediscovered football as an adult. But it *has+ only been the last year, umm I’ve been really into it in terms of the Australian game. More have just been observing overseas, up at 2 am, you know watching it on the TV [laughs] and that…I went to the odd game, but no nah support, like I’m supporting Sydney FC now. The game, like the way it’s run, mostly all the changes they made to get the A-League up and running, you know disbanding the old NSL. I could never connect with it before, it was very ethnic based and I’m, you know pretty much mainstream in terms of ethnic background, that kinda stuff. So I could never, although I enjoyed it, I could never feel a part of you know, an Italian club or a Croatian club or a Greek club, so that sorta thing [changes] just got me into it. And I think, when this is all going on I thought this is really football’s last chance to really make a go of it, so it’s people like me who have always loved it that should actually get

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involved, so from day one, I’ve sort of been, you know, getting involved from a supporter level as well (Sydney FC football supporter #007).

Secondly, as politics entered the stadium crowd disorder between ethnic factions occurred during NSL matches. Though these were not as commonplace as the media had portrayed them (Hughson, 2001), it is undeniable that ethnic conflict played a role in instigating crowd disorder within football stadiums. This is illustrated in the following comment made by a male private security officer, who had worked with NSL crowds at Parramatta Stadium:

I was at soccer game once... Bonnyrigg versus Central Sydney. The Bonnyrigg Rabbito’s or whatever, I can’t remember what their mascot was, but umm they [spectators] were waving the national flag of another country. Now all that did, all that served, was like…it’s like George Orwell’s nationalism you know. That sense of nationalism that drives us to find, to find that our nation defines who we are and that nation, being part of that wider nation gives us a right, like a… right, you know to do what we wish. So, I think Central Sydney won and Bonnyrigg [fans] felt that their nation was let down and they didn’t take too well to that and reacted aggressively...I remember it was a tough match to work because we [security] were caught in the middle of these people who had taken the loss a little too personally (NSW private security #005).

Several within the wider football community disputed the affiliation of football teams with ethnic communities; these include football fans from non-European nations, football commentators and ex-Australian national team players (Warren, 2002). Nevertheless, attempts were made to ‘de-ethnicise’ the sport, both because it was said to stunt the growth of football as a spectator sport, as well as decrease the quality of the spectator experience at matches, as nationalistic tensions led to violence within the ground. In the 1990s Soccer Australia (SA) was determined to ‘de-ethnicise’ football. Teams playing in the league were forced to drop ethnic names and logos. Therefore, Sydney Croatia became Sydney United. Soccer Australia also prohibited fans from bringing national flags into football grounds. These changes were, however, not welcomed by some supporters who developed antagonism towards Soccer Australia and the law enforcement agencies employed to police the changes. As Hughson (2000) explains, the Bad Blue Boys (BBB), a group of young male Croatian

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supporters, annoyed with the changes, defied the directives of football officialdom by continuing to bring national flags and other symbols of ethnic identification to football matches. This led to tensions between the BBB and control agents, primarily the police and private security guards.

Hence, nationalism and ethnic identification with football clubs was embedded into the Australian domestic league, ethnicity was regarded as a root problem contributing to low attendance records. It was argued that if football was to compete in the Australian sports market, it required a drastic change. The Bradley Report to the Australian Soccer Commission in 1990 and the Report of the NSL Task-Force (Kemeny, 2003) both recommended that if football was to experience commercial success in the Australian market, the league structure had to be altered and links between ethnic communities and football clubs had to be replaced by geographic affiliations. Thus the NSL was disbanded in 2003/2004 and in August 2005 the ‘de-ethnicise’ Hyundai A- League was rolled out.

SA or ASA Both Spell Incompetence

The NSL was described by commentators as semi-professional. Many players were forced to undertake additional employment as they earned salaries significantly lower than those in AFL (Aussie Rules) and major rugby league clubs. It was widely reported that the league and clubs struggled financially for years. The league’s administration was regarded as incompetent (Warren, 2002). This negative perception of the management of football in Australia is another reason identified through the interviews with football fans for the lack of spectator interest in football. In a round table discussion with a group of four football fans, it was revealed that supporters of football share a frustration with the manner in which football was managed under both the Australian Football Association and Soccer Australia. When I asked if they could express their opinions of the NSL, laughs filled the air, as if to say the NSL was a

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joke. Comments from Sydney FC football supporter #004 clearly expressed the widely held opinion of the NSL and the administration of football in Australia:

I’ve been following Australian soccer or football whichever way you want to call it, for... ah since well, since the Newcastle Breakers came into the competition in 1991. I was, like eleven when they came in, so I started supporting them when they came into the competition. Basically, best way to describe the NSL, it was shit but it was fun! Some of the stuff that we had to put up with as fans you wouldn’t see anywhere else around the world. Like when the NSL died, there was lack of media coverage, no sponsorship, poor crowd, the football was, well, the quality itself was very, very average. In a way like the one thing that kept me going, like I could have just stopped and said, ‘Look, I’ve had enough of this, I’ll just watch the Premier League, or watch the World Cup or whatever’. But the one thing that kept me going is just the dream that one day football in this country will be where it should be and that’s one of the top sports around and now we are starting to achieve that. You know, gone are the days where, we had fans hiding in backyards at away grounds and you know people flicking knives at you when you’re at grounds. All those days are gone, and it’s just so refreshing now that people have finally started to accept football and warm to it…And it’s just the people that are running the game now, they’re businessmen, whereas before you had people who probably couldn’t organise a chook ruffle. And it’s just infighting and bickering and politics and now you’ve got guys who know, right, we know what we have to do, let’s go out there and do it.

Current Sydney FC supporters who had attended matches during the NSL complain of poor quality football, ethnic conflict, and general violence at matches as some of the major low points of football under Soccer Australia. Sydney FC supporter #008 described what football fans used to experience when attending NSL matches:

I know the classic situation, we’re watching Sydney Olympic play Sydney United, this is a couple of weeks ago and they used to be former NSL clubs and we’re there with a guy who used to be a Northern Spirit fan, and we left the ground and we’re leaving the ground. It was a draw, alright game, whatever. He walks out, he says, ‘This is the first time I’ve ever walked through the front gate of this place, ever’. ‘Cause he was telling us, about all the times he had gone out there with Spirit, and you know being sort of herded by policemen out the back of this stadium and into a paddock so there wouldn’t be any trouble and that kind of thing. It does not happen, hopefully, touchwood, at A-League games.

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Violence or at least the potential for violence at NSL matches was significant for spectators attending football matches given the history of the game. For instance, in 1997, Sydney United and South Melbourne were threatened with expulsion after crowd violence during an NSL preliminary final. Police were beaten and fires set off during the match at Parramatta Stadium (Hay, 2001). It was clear that football in Australia needed to be repackaged and spectator safety as well as an improved quality in the football on display needed to occur if football wanted to destroy the idea of football fans as hooligans and football matches as disorderly and unsafe. Hence, the last game of the NSL played in 2003/2004 was the season grand final; Perth Glory downed Parramatta Power, 1-0 in extra time, in front of a crowd of 9,360.

A New Beginning – The Hyundai A-League

A new league, the Hyundai A-League commenced its inaugural 2005/06 season on 26 August 2005. The advertising campaign for the new league used the slogan – ‘football, but not as you know it’ – to differentiate itself from the other football codes in Australia, but also to separate itself from the old NSL. The League began its inaugural season with eight teams, each representing a capital or satellite city in Australia and one team representing New Zealand. The original eight teams were, Sydney FC, Newcastle Jets, Central Coast Mariners, Melbourne Victory, Adelaide United, Perth Glory, Brisbane Roar and the New Zealand Knights (replaced by Wellington Phoenix). Since then, the League has expanded and is currently composed of eleven14 teams14 competing in a round robin tournament followed by a top-four playoff and grand final.

The new league began well in terms of drawing significant crowds, with Sydney’s first home game at Aussie Stadium attracting an unexpected 25, 000 plus crowd. The crowd attendance on the first weekend of the League was a surprise to many, including the Aussie Stadium

14 Gold Coast United, North Queensland Fury and Melbourne Heart FC have since been incorporated into the League.

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security staff. Given that match figures in pre-season averaged about 3,000, they were not expecting the 25, 000 plus fans (FFA, 2005). The security supervisor interviewed for this study recalled how the event management team on the day had to open the main gates instead of using the turnstiles in order to get the crowd into the stadium in time for the game, though even at half time people were still streaming into the ground. In recalling the day, fans interviewed for this study expressed a delight in watching the crowd flow into the stadium and recalled amazement at where all the people had come from. The stage was set for the ‘new football’.

Football was not only new to spectators but also to stadium managers and security personnel around Australia, as the new A-League clubs now called some of the major sporting venues in Australia home. For example, Suncorp Stadium in Brisbane is now home to the Queensland Roar and Aussie Stadium home to Sydney FC, much to the satisfaction of football fans, who were used to watching football at less comfortable stadiums. Being unfamiliar with the sport and having only the negative reminders of the NSL had security supervisors and police commanders on the defensive, expecting and preparing for the worst in terms of crowd safety management. However, the inaugural A-League season progressed with very little crowd disorder. Although, the experiences of spectators have been different around the country, findings presented here are from interviews with Sydney FC supporters regarding their experiences at Aussie Stadium.

Hughson (2000) identifies two emergent forms of spectator culture: ‘submissive’ supporter and ‘expressive’ supporter are juxtaposed in their practices and rituals of fandom. For Hughson, submissive supporters fit in well with the new ‘de-ethnicised’ version of football in Australia, which is focused on commercialism and professionalism. The author describes submissive supporters as follows:

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This type of supporter involves fans (often families) who attend the match dressed in the official team kit and who are equipped with licensed Soccer Australia merchandise such as flags and baseball style caps. These are orderly fans who comply with the behavioural codes imposed by Soccer Australia... they undoubtedly, enjoy their soccer- supporting experience, but they do so in a way that totally accepts the rules laid out in the micro-societal context of the soccer stadium. (Hughson, 2000: 24)

Therefore, the submissive supporter is characterised by a willingness to fulfil the image of the ideal supporter desired by football authorities. In contrast ‘expressive’ supporters are characterised by Hughson (2000) as the ever growing presence of supporters from England supporting Australian football clubs. The author uses Perth Glory FC as an example. The primary supporter group for Perth Glory FC are known as ‘The Boys from the Shed’. This group is described by Hughson as supporting Perth with a supporter culture that is expressively and unashamedly English. The chants that characterised the exclusively male subcultural group are often based on the traditional chants that have become a mark of English spectator culture. Brabazon (1998) who has commented on the subcultural practices of ‘The Boys from the Shed’ contends that their expressions of Englishness conjure nostalgia for the lost English empire. The formations of these groups are attempts by a ‘new wave’ of English immigrants (young single English men and women as opposed to families) to collectively redefine ‘Englishness’. For Hughson (2000: 26) the acceptability by soccer officialdom of these new forms of ‘expressive’ support in the A-League poses a significant dilemma, following the explicit ‘de- ethnicising’ campaign, as the author explains:

... [This acceptance] sits uncomfortably against the rejection of NESB supporter groups such as the BBB (Bad Blue Boys). It implies either that some ethnic supporter allegiances rather than others are acceptable within the A-League, or that ‘The Boys from the Shed’ are not recognized by Soccer Australia as an ethnically based supporter group...

The spectator football culture practised by Sydney FC supporters is a combination of ‘submissive’ and ‘expressive’. At Sydney FC, the unofficial supporter group, the ‘Cove’, has taken on the responsibility for inventing a tradition including club songs and chants (Collison,

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2009). The football spectator culture developing at Aussie Stadium was described by fans as ‘fusion cooking’, as it incorporates parts of English, parts of continental European and parts of South American spectator traditions. However, the overriding role of the football spectator was the need for the contemporary football fan to be an active participant in improving the state of the football in the Australia by taking on the responsibility for creating a vibrant spectator culture that is both ‘submissive’ but also expressive’. Thus, football fans were actively engage in the ‘co-production’ of order at Aussie stadium by defining and enforcing informal norms of behaviour.

Interviews for this study revealed that there were certain supporters who argued that, ‘authentic fans produce their football culture – they do not just consume it.’ (Sydney FC supporter #003). A supporter’s identity as an ‘authentic’ football fan was significantly affected by their degree of active involvement in the ‘co-production’ of the social order in the venue. Evidence from this study shows that for Sydney FC supporters in the ‘Cove’ (supporters’ end at Aussie Stadium), creating atmosphere is a central part of supporting the team, as the ‘Cove’ charter states: ‘if you are in the Cove you are expected to participate in any singing and choreographed displays (banners etc.) we do. Don’t join the Cove to experience the atmosphere, join the Cove to create the atmosphere.’ Further, Collinson (2009:17) explains how Sydney FC supporters use chants and songs to recreate identity and culture faced with increasing commercialism in the sport:

Songs are indispensable to football fans because, aside from their own massed physical presence, bedecked in team colours and the deployment of flags and banners, they have little control over the visual appearance of a stadium that, in the case of Sydney FC, is also home to a rugby league and union team, and an occasional venue for rock concerts. Under such de-territorialized conditions, home-ground advantage should perhaps be reconceptualised as home-sound advantage because singing has become the means to territorialize the non-space of the multipurpose stadiums that are increasingly a feature of commodified sport.

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Further, ritualised football singing can exclude as well as include, ‘…as songs reflect and produce the self/other, insider/outsider binary that defines football culture’ (Armstrong & Young, 2008: 179). Similar, to the ‘expressive’ forms of fandom practiced by ‘The boys in the Shed’ (Hughson, 2000), many chants sung by Sydney FC supporters are embedded in English spectator culture. For example, Sydney FC supporters sing the following simple chant that is a staple of most English football clubs:

Sydney till I die I’m Sydney till I die I know I am I’m sure I am I’m Sydney till I die (to the tune of ‘I am H-A-P-P-Y’)

This sameness evident in the chants of Sydney FC and that of other established football clubs in the UK and around the world is seen as evidence of the effects of Globalisation on sport (Maguire, 1994; Hughson, 2000; Collison, 2009).

Lock (2009: 117) has argued that ‘In effect, by removing ethnicity... the FFA created an avenue for anyone to support A-League teams, therefore reforming the domestic league from ethnically based clubs to culturally pluralist organizations.’ However, my observations of Sydney FC home games do not provide sufficient evidence for a description of Sydney FC as a ‘culturally pluralist Organisation’. In fact, Hughson’s (2000) concerns over acceptable and unacceptable forms of ethnic affiliations were evident during my fieldwork. The following extract from my field notes exemplifies the evidence of ethnic expressions in the A-League:

The chants, the colour, the vibrancy—it was nice to observe at an Australian football match. However, everything about tonight reminded me of images that I’ve observed elsewhere on television. The chants were so ‘English’. The faces predominantly white Anglo-Saxons and the accents revealed connections to the motherland. True, there was no evidence of Serbian or Croatian colours and nationalism in terms of ‘Englishness’ was not explicitly expressed. But if asked was the atmosphere ‘de-

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ethnicised’, I could only answer, ‘No’. This raises a curious question, are there acceptable and unacceptable ethnicities in Australian sport? It would appear so, from what I observed tonight. (Field notes, Aussie Stadium, 16/09/2005)

Conclusion

This chapter has described the historical and cultural context for the development of football as a spectator sport in both England and Australia. Football has had a long history in England and is the most popular spectator sport. Problems with hooliganism and a series of stadium disasters including Heysel and Hillsborough were catalysts for change in the nature of football as a spectator sport. Heysel and Hillsborough generated a lot of structural changes to stadiums, including a move to all-seater stadiui ms ncreased use of CCTV, greater collaboration between emergency services and those policing football matches, and the removal of perimeter fencing. These incidents resulted in an increased regulation of football spectator bodies in the name of safety and security.

In contrast, football has had a relatively short history in Australia, and it is not among the most popular spectator sports. In fact, football has been described as existing on the margins of Australian sporting culture. Its history as a spectator sport has been troubled. The NSL had the reputation of being incompetent, and the poor reception of football by Australian sporting audiences has been of great concern for the promoters of the game, especially since the sport was thriving at grassroots levels. Many who considered themselves fans of the sport failed to find any attachment with NSL clubs because of the clubs’ obvious ethnic affiliations. Clubs in the NSL not only displayed ethnic specific logos and colours but also adopted names of specific countries. Moreover, fans who did attend NSL matches did so knowing that disorder or violence was always a possibility and were subjected to constant police surveillance and contact with crowd control agents to ensure safety. Being unable to walk out of the front gates of stadiums without police assistance were reminders of the NSL. Football supporters interviewed for this study recalled being escorted to side streets and being held back in

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paddocks as part of attempts to segregate supporters following a match to avoid confrontation between rival supporters.

In spite of differing trajectories, both English and Australian football spectatorship has been altered by commercialism and globalisation. The American model of sport management that promotes commercial viability through sponsorship deals and television revenues has led to a shift in the supporter base of both Australian and English spectator football.

In England the effects have been evident in a shift away from football’s roots in traditional working class culture which is portrayed as ‘rough’ and ‘uncivilised’ and a move towards middle class values and practices as these are perceived to be more in line with commercial success. Through heavier regulation of expressive working class practices, English contemporary spectatorship is described as being ‘sanitised’. Ever increasing ticketing prices also result in the exclusion of a large proportion of the working class from modern stadiums.

Similarly in Australia, proponents of the commodification of spectator football argued that the commercial success of the sport necessitated a departure from the ethnic links that had served to popularise football as a spectator sport in the post WW2 era. Commodification called for ‘one Australia, one League’ (Hallinan et al., 2007: 294). The ‘de-ethnicising’ campaign however, while clothed in the rhetoric of multiculturalism, has arguably shown that there are acceptable and unacceptable ethnicities in Australian sport. For instance the new Hyundai A-League spectator culture is not devoid of ethnic influences, ‘Englishness’ plays a prominent role in the development of the new spectator culture at Australian football.

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CHAPTER SIX: THE ORGANISATION OF FOOTBALL POLICING

Introduction

Football policing in the England and Australia is organised as a ‘plural policing’ system. Since the early 1990s, stewards and private security guards have been increasingly engaged in the policing of football crowds, while public police have been playing a complementary role. Public and private policing providers operate within the ‘communal space’ (Kempa et al., 2004) of the football ground and surrounding ‘avenues of contestation’ (Giulianotti and Armstrong, 2002) in an attempt to maintain order and ensure safety. Although the literature acknowledges the pluralisation of football policing, little is known about the way plural policing systems are organised in practice, or about the legal framework that empowers the various actors in the system. Therefore it is the purpose of this chapter to outline and comment on the organisation of football policing in contemporary stadiums. The discussion is organised around a spatial framework that contends that space is interconnected with the exercise of power and social control and that football policing strategies, such as the increased use of surveillance through CCTV, the structural design of stadiums and the introduction of Football Banning Orders (FBOs) are expressions of a wider strategy by public and private control agents in the exercise of territoriality.

Territoriality is an ordering process that, in Foucaultian terms, is exercised as a form of ‘juridico-political’ expression of power over the bodies of football spectators (Hannah, 1997). Within this conceptual framework, strategies are expressed in two main forms. The first is discipline which incorporates forms of training and coercing the body, for example through physical education and architecture (e.g. the design and layout of the stadium). Secondly, power is also exercised through regulatory control in which surveillance and containment are

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the primary strategies. Bale (1993: 123-124) argues that the design and layout of modern football stadiums and the range of largely draconian regulatory approaches used to ‘repress and regulate’ football spectators make football stadiums an example of ‘highly territorialized space’.

In examining the set of policing strategies used in the policing of football, this chapter aims to interpret them within a ‘territoriality’ disciplinary framework. As discussed in Chapter 3, territoriality in this thesis follows Sack’s (1986) conception, where territoriality is understood as a process – whereby one group exerts control over another by delimiting and exerting control over space. For example, the use of mounted police to escort visiting spectators from railway stations, coach terminals and airports to the football ground is an exercise in police territoriality. The strategy of escorting spectators limits both their movement within the city and allows the police to monitor them from close range. This form of containment socially constructs the relationship between the police and football spectators as a power relationship. Football spectators are perceived as ‘risky’ or being at ‘risk’ in the city and the police and other social control agents are positioned as the keepers of order in the city.

The chapter will first address the development of plural policing networks in the context of football policing, discussing the effects of the introduction and expansion of ‘user-pays’ policies by both English and Australian police forces. Attention will then be drawn to the legal framework that governs the policing of football in both countries. Consideration is also given to the physical and social geography of the stadium focusing on the ‘home’ end experience. Finally, the policing strategies currently used to maintain public order and secure safety during football matches are examined within the aforementioned spatial framework.

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The Emergence of Plural Policing

The Trajectory of ‘User-Pays’ Policing

There is a long history of police in England charging for services. In the 1924 English case of Glasbrook Brothers Ltd v. Glamorgan Country Council ([1924] 1 All ER 579 at 587, cited in Ayling and Shearing, 2008: 29) a mine owner requested and was provided with, for a fee, a long-term garrison of police to help protect workers at the mine from picketing miners. The owner of the mine contested the fee he was charged for the service rendered by the extra police. From the police perspective, the situation did not require as significant a police presence as the owner had requested so that the extra numbers qualified as a ‘special service.’ The owner had the responsibility to pay for the additional service since he was the one who benefited from the additional service. The majority of the House of Lords upheld the police position and the owner had to pay the additional policing costs. The decision set a precedent which allowed the public police to be hired out for special services so long as these services did not interfere with the fulfilment of their obligations to the general public. However, the practice was not legislated until 1964 when the police where officially authorised to charge for policing services under the UK Police Act 1964 s.15 (1) and currently under s. 25 in the Police Act 1996. Hence as Ayling and Shearing (2008) explain, current debates around commodification and privatisation in the field of policing have become prominent not because these are new phenomena but rather because they are occurring at a rapid rate with minimal evaluation of possible risks or consideration of future directions of public policing.

Glasbrook v. Glamorgan raised the concept of ‘police duty.’ That is, it questioned the extent to which the police – as a public institution – are to provide a free service to the public. The conclusion reached serves as the foundation of contemporary ‘user pays policy.’ For example in England, the provision of policing at a football match or any other commercial event such as music concerts is a ‘special police service’. Special police services are governed by section 25 of the Police Act 1996: 136 | P a g e

The chief officer of police of a police force may provide, at the request of any person, special police services at any premises or in any locality in the police area for which the force is maintained, subject to the payment to the police authority of charges on such scales as may be determined by that authority.

Thus, according to the Act, special police services are extra police required to secure an event. The person requesting the police presence is required to pay for the service at a price determined by the chief police office r. If the cost is not met, the organiser can then be denied a safety certificate, without which the event cannot be held (House of Commons, 2009). Under the current ‘user pays’ policing arrangement in England, football clubs are only required to meet the costs for special police service, which means policing inside the stadium and in surrounding car parks. However, in 2008, the Association of Chief Police Officers (ACPO) made a submission to the Home Office (Police Reform the Green Paper: the Future of Policing, 2008), calling for the introduction of ‘full-cost’ policing. The introduction of ‘full-cost policing’ would extend the definition of ‘special police services’ beyond the ‘footprint’ of the event and include what is known in the UK as ‘consequential policing’, that is policing which is provided beyond the event itself at train stations or town centres to deal with crowds arriving at and leaving a commercial event. This recommendation was not adopted. Consequential policing is currently the responsibility of the police. Clubs do not have to pay for this as an ‘extra’ service.

Similarly, the NSW Police Force Cost Recovery and User Charges Policy (last updated, May 2010) follows the principles of the Whole-of-Government Policy for the Application of User Charges for Major and Special Events. The basic premise upon which these policies are founded is that police duty is limited when the event is of a commercial nature, as the following extract from the NSW Department of Premier and Cabinet website shows:

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A user charge is defined as a payment to a producer (in this case an agency) for the acquisition of a particular good or service of direct benefit to the payee. In the examples above event organisers/promoters and select members of the community directly benefit from the public services supplied as opposed to the general community.

The imposition of an appropriate charge for these services assists Government in achieving an efficient, effective and equitable use of scarce public resources.

However, it is acknowledged that major and special events can bring significant and unique benefits to the people of NSW. In these circumstances it may be appropriate to support an event through the waiving or reduction of these charges.

Therefore, police duty is dependent on who benefits from the policing service. Only in instances where the police determine that there is a general benefit for the community are fees decreased or waived. In every other instance event organisers and promoters are to pay for policing services, which are classified as ‘scarce public resources.’ Other services that are covered by this policy include road closures by the Roads and Traffic Authority (RTA) and emergency services by Ambulance NSW (see Appendix five for a schedule of events and categories covered by the Whole-of- Government Policy for the Application of User Charges for Major and Special Events).

In New South Wales, fees for user pays services are generally set to ‘full costs’ recovery. This is in accordance with the NSW Treasury Guidelines for Pricing of User Charges. On the other hand, charges for ‘special events’ – such as football matches – are set for ‘avoidable costs’ recovery. According to the NSW Police Force Cost Recovery and User Charges Policy (2010) ‘avoidable costs’ are those that would be avoided if the goods or service were not provided by NSW Police. Organisers are not charged for ‘overhead’ costs or costs that are incurred in the non-commercial running of the NSW Police Force. The principle of user pays and the basis for charging for these services have been accepted nationally through the Australasian Police Ministers’ Council since 1995.

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In more recent years, police services have begun to make greater use of the user pays policy and present it as a ‘cost recovery’ strategy as opposed to a ‘profit making’ strategy. The expansion of user pays policing is exemplified by the debate on the policing of English football matches, in which the Association of Chief Police Officers has called for the introduction of full costs policing. Police representatives had contended that the expansion of the policy is essential because the police can no longer afford to cover the extra costs incurred in the

15 policing of football matches. In response, Mr. Bill Bush, as the clubs’ representative argued that:

Our clubs feel that they pay the full cost of deployment of the police which they require for policing in the ground and in the land immediately close to it which is wholly under the club's control for the purposes of organising the match … when fans are moving to and from between town centres, transport intersections, hubs and the ground, they are there as citizens rather than as spectators. (House of Commons, 2009: 3)

This debate over who should pay for policing undoubtedly has an impact on the nature of the relationship between the police and the football clubs. The next chapter of this thesis will explore the nature of the relationship in greater depth. For now, the focus is on how costs for policing football may have affected the organisation of football policing. Commentators have observed that increasing policing costs may be a contributing factor for the increased presence of stewards and or private security within football venues in England and Australia (Wright, 2007; Ayling and Shearing 2008; Frosdick, 2005).

15 Director Public Policy and Communications, Premier League.

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The Re-Birth of Private Security in Football Policing

The 1980s saw the re-birth (Johnston, 1992) of the private security industry, with private providers returning to command a role in some traditional police functions, including street patrolling, transport of prisoners, and public transport safety (Johnston, 1992). Shopping centres and local councils began to hire private security providers to patrol retail stores and neighbourhoods. Major events were also identified as settings where private security could play a pivotal role. As the police began to formalise and articulate their user pays policies for the deployment of police personnel to various sporting events, private security entered to meet an increasing demand.

The exact dates when stewards and private security began to operate in the policing of football matches in England and Australia are not conclusively documented. However, the literature does show that the use of stewarding in the policing of English football matches was identified as a significant component in the policing of football following the Hillsborough tragedy in 1989. As explained in the previous chapter, the Hillsborough stadium tragedy resulted in the Taylor Report (1990). Taylor emphasised the need for improved training and a clarified operational structure for stewarding. Frosdick (1995) argues that Taylor’s report into the Hillsborough disaster changed the emphasis of the policing approach from one of preservation of public order to one focused on public safety. Post-Hillsborough there were official arrangements for the transfer of responsibility for safety within football grounds to Clubs’ Safety Officers as opposed to police. Moreover, the change in responsibility is articulated in an entry in the ‘Green Guide’16 (Department of Culture, Media and Sport, 2008: 13) which states: ‘Responsibility for the safety of spectators lies at all times with the ground management’. The issue of ‘duty of care’ to persons attending events also shifted from the police to the event organiser.

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Wright (2007) contends that, since Hillsborough, the role of the steward has been enhanced and training for stewards has been significantly altered. In-house football stewards are exempt from licensing by the Security Industry Authority (SIA) under the Private Security Industry Act 2001. In addition, Wright argues that the improved quality of stewarding has altered the organisation of football in England. Police now play a more ‘traditional’ role that sees them predominantly engaged in crime prevention and peace maintenance.

The House of Commons Select Committee on the Costs of Policing Football (2009) noted that most Premier League football clubs hire between 400 and 600 stewards per game. The significant number of stewards working football matches is a sign that police officers are no longer essential and that the police’s presence within stadiums is on the decline. There have been calls for ‘police free stadiums’. In fact, during the 2009-2010 season, 47% of all football matches in England and Wales were police free matches (Home Office, 2010).

There is no documented record of the origins or history of private security involvement in the policing of football or sporting events in Australia. ‘Crowd Controllers’ (a title given to private security officers who work sporting matches) were not introduced as a category in the Australian Bureau of Statistics measure of security providers until 2006. Contemporary studies concerned with the plural policing of ‘communal spaces’ such as sporting venues claim a trend towards the expansion of private policing and the diminishing presence of public police. Palmer and Whelan (2007: 413) contend that ‘The cost pressure of user pays policies for state police and the growing expertise of private policing agents suggest a future of further expansion of non-state policing in major event venues.’

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The Laws and Regulations Governing the Policing of Football

Consideration of the laws and regulations governing the policing of football is central in any thorough understanding of territoriality as ‘these clusters of legal regulations significantly condition the territorial actions police officers [and security] regularly undertake to enforce public order’ (Herbert, 1997: 38). By defining the rules and actions permissible within certain spaces, laws and regulations constitute a ‘normative order’ regarding the use of stadium space.

The General Legal Framework

The legal authority, rights and powers of private security providers in both Australia and England are determined by what Sarre (2008: 303) describes as ‘a piecemeal array of legal privileges and assumptions rather than by clear law.’ By and large legislation in relation to the private security industry in both countries is more concerned with governing the industry than with outlining the powers of private security providers. Jurisdictions have been concerned with regulating the private security industry through a focus on three key areas: registration, licensing and training standards. For example, several Australian jurisdictions have passed legislation that requires individuals wishing to obtain and renew a private security licence to provide their fingerprints as part of the application process. Queensland will be the latest Australian jurisdiction to legislate the requirement. Changes to the Security Providers Act 1993 (Qld) made finger printing mandatory in Queensland from March 2011. The requirements are explained on the Queensland Department of Employment, Economic Development and Innovation (2010) website as follow:

It is part of a nationally consistent approach to security industry regulation and will provide an extra layer of protection for consumers, the public and security firms...The amended legislation provides for better identification of applicants for security provider licences, and more thorough ongoing probity checks, helping to prevent criminal elements from entering or remaining in the security industry.

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The private security industry has been continually criticised for employing poorly trained staff and attracting ‘criminal elements’. The criticisms have been particularly strong in relation to the night time economy. The recruitment and training of bouncers at pubs and clubs have been identified as some of the problem areas (Lister, Hadfield, Hobbs, and Winlow, 2001; Prenzler and Sarre, 2008). An incident that resulted in the death of former Australian cricket player David Hookes in 2004 has significantly affected the status of bouncers in Australia. David Hookes was punched by a bouncer who was attempting to eject him from a pub. He was knocked unconscious when his head hit the road and he died at hospital the following day (Schwarz, 2006). Although the bouncer was found not guilty of manslaughter, the incident served as a catalyst for increased scrutiny of the private security industry as a whole.

Similarly, in England the Home Office is considering introducing mandatory restraint training for bar and club bouncers (Reed, 2010). The Security Industry Authority (SIA) in the UK reported being aware of at least ten people who died after being ejected from venues since 2003 (SIA, 2010). Further, Graham and Homel (2008) found that bouncers and other crowd controllers in the night time economy had regular physical encounters with patrons: 97.5% of door staff had been threatened with violence over the past year and 81% had been the victim of a minor assault. Law relating to the private security industry in both Australia and England has therefore been focused on regulating the industry and improving standards in an attempt to ‘clean up’ the industry.

Sarre (2008) argues that private security powers are not clearly defined in legislation. General provisions with regards to powers are prevalent. For example, section 8 of the Security Industry Act 1997 (NSW) states that ‘*a+ licence does not confer on the licensee any function apart from a function authorised by the licence.’ This is a vague provision, especially when the list of authorised functions in Section 11 does not contain any specific powers conferred under each licence. For example, Section 11 ‘*1a] class 1A—authorises the licensee to patrol, protect,

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watch or guard any property while unarmed (and whether while static or mobile).’ While it lists the activities the licensee can engage in, it does not confer any specific powers.

Button (2007) found that English private security providers were also affected by a lack of legislative provisions on the exact powers available to private security. Button found that 10% of private security personnel thought that they possessed the same powers as public police. Further, Sarre (2008: 304) argues that:

Nowhere do specific ‘policing’ laws directly and consistently focus on the way that private security personnel are empowered to act or to be given immunity from civil suit or criminal charges. Moreover, there are few legal decisions and precedents emerging from the courts. Hence it is difficult for anyone to find a satisfactory body of law on the subject

In general the law confers no powers upon private security personnel other than those available to the ordinary citizen. However, Sarre (2008) explains that an exception can be found in legislation that is enacted for the purpose of having private security entrusted with a specialised task during particular events, such as the Olympic Games. The Security Industry (Olympic and Paralympic Games) Act 1999 (NSW) provided private security with wide powers, including move along powers, search powers, and the power to detain.

NSW police officers interviewed for this study were aware of the spatial dimension of security work within the stadium. Several officers commented that security officers within the stadium had a more empowered legal standing compared with security officers in other settings. The following comment was typical of the police understanding:

I don’t think private security is very effective if there’s not a statutory body behind it. Like, the reason it works at Aussie Stadium is that there’s the Moore Park Trust Act which empowers them, other than that normal security isn’t empowered at all; it’s a waste of time. I think that, like I think rangers and those type of people that have got council by-laws and they’ve got some level of power, at the football and the cricket

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ground they’re good because they’ve got some sort of legislative basis in which they work. (NSW User-pays police #006)

As the quote shows there are a number of agents involved in policing. Alongside state and private policing agents there are local policing agents, such as rangers, employed by local governments to engage in policing local parks and streets. Police officers interviewed for this study emphasised that statutory standing was significant in determining the quality of the contribution that private agents could make to policing. These findings concur with claims by Jones and Newburn (1998) that the Metropolitan Police was most likely to develop co- operative working relationships with agencies that had statutory standing.

NSW private security officers generally regarded themselves as lacking in power. The complexity of crowds and their unpredictability was a major concern for private agents as it was for police officers. However, private security reported that it was often difficult for them to command the respect and authority that public police automatically possessed. A NSW private security officer expressed the fundamental difference between police and private security as follows:

Before doing crowd control work I did a two week training course, in the first week [we covered] all law and the second week first aid and scenarios. That two week training course basically taught us that the police have all the power and we have no powers at all really. How should I put it, I learned that we [security] are basically police with plastic badges! Let’s put it like that. (NSW Private Security #005)

However, as the following sections will show, private policing agents operating within football grounds in England and Australia are in reality highly empowered by a range of legislative provisions. The sense of powerlessness expressed by NSW crowd controllers may be explained by a lack of awareness of legislation or a cultural tradition within the company that warns officers away from exercising the full range of authority available to them (Button, 2008).

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The Policing of Football: Anfield Stadium

Police officers at Anfield have the general police powers assigned to them as well as a wide range of legislation that provides them with additional powers within the ground. These powers are found in the Ground Regulations to which all patrons submit themselves and several pieces of legislation including:

 Football Offences Act 1991  Sporting Events (Control of Alcohol Act) 1985  Criminal Justice and Public Order Act 1994  Local Government Provision Act 1982  Football (Disorder) Act 2000

Liverpool FC has a set of ticketing terms and conditions for Home and Away tickets. These conditions outline the range of acceptable behaviour within the ground and the conditions of ejection from the ground. Moreover, section 8.1 states that: ‘These Conditions of Issue shall be governed by and construed in accordance with the laws of England and Wales. The parties hereby submit to the exclusive jurisdiction of the Courts of England and Wales’ (Liverpoolfc.tv.com, 2011a).

Under sections 2, 3 and 4 of the Football Offences Act 1991 (England and Wales) a police officer is given the power to arrest anyone throwing objects, engaging in racialist or indecent chanting, or running onto the field of play. Notably only police officers are provided with the power to arrest someone engaging in these behaviours, s 110 of the Serious Organised Crime and Police Act 2005 provides them with the power of arrest.

Moreover, under section 1 of the Sporting Events (Control of Alcohol Act) 1985 police officers are given the power to stop and search trains or vehicles where it is suspected that travellers have been drinking or are carrying intoxicants to a designated sporting event. Section 4 provides police officers with the power to search and to arrest any individual reasonably 146 | P a g e

suspected of being drunk inside the stadium or anyone drinking in areas from which the event can be viewed. Further, under section 6 of the Act, police officers are given the power to close any bars within the stadium:

s 6(1) If at any time during a designated sporting event, at a designated sports ground, it appears to a Constable in uniform that the sale or supply of intoxicants, at any bar within the ground is detrimental to the orderly conduct or safety of spectators, the Constable may require any person having control of the bar to close it and keep it closed until the end of that period.

This section provides police officers with an enormous power to control the sale of alcohol and therefore the profits generated from the sale of alcohol. The provision also shows that although the club is privately owned by Liverpool FC, the police do have a degree of overriding control over some matters of operation.

Power to arrest is also provided to police to control ticket touting and street trading around the venue. The Local Government Provisions Act 1982 makes it illegal to sell anything in the streets adjacent to the stadium, with news vendors being exempted.

Stewards within the venue are governed by the Ground Regulations which provide them with specific powers. The Ground Regulations state at the very beginning that:

Entry to the ground is expressly subject to acceptance by the visitor of these Ground Regulations and the rules and regulations of FIFA, UEFA, The Football Association, The F.A. Premier League and the Football League in respect of the relevant competitions, the Ground Regulations incorporate the Club’s Customer Charter. Entry to the ground shall constitute acceptance of the Ground Regulations.

Under the Ground Regulations, stewards are authorised to deny entry and to permit someone to remain or leave the ground, to search anyone entering the ground, and to deny entry or eject anyone not complying with the stewards’ right to search. Further, stewards are also 147 | P a g e

allowed to control the movement of spectators within the ground, as Ground Regulation 8 states ‘all persons entering the ground may only occupy the seat allocated to them by their ticket and must not move from any one part of the ground to another without the express permission or instruction of any steward, officer of the Club and/or any police officer.’ Stewards are also able to confiscate tickets that have been offered for sale by patrons; this is a power that is also given to ‘officers of the club’ and police officers. Additionally patrons are warned that they must follow instructions from stewards as well as police and failure to follow the instructions of stewards can result in ejection.

The Policing of Football: Aussie Stadium

The body of rules and regulations that govern the policing of football in Australia is locally based. There is no specific football offences legislation for the governance of football crowds. For the policing of the Sydney Stadium, what exists is a body of NSW State law that consists of the following:

 Major Events Act 2009  Sporting Venues (Offenders Banning Orders) Act 2005  Sydney Cricket and Sports Ground Act 19778  Sydney Cricket Ground and Sydney Football Stadium By-law 2009

First and foremost police officers, although on ‘user-pays’ duty, have the power to enforce the Crimes Act 1900 (NSW) if any offence takes place in or around the venue.

Under the Sydney Cricket Ground and Sydney Football Stadium By-law 2009, the following areas are of interest to the powers provided to police and private security at the venue:

 Entry to Ground  Entry to Members’ Reserve  Unauthorised possession of membership card or ticket of admission

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 Use of membership card by non-member  Membership cards and tickets to be produced for inspection  Admission of vehicles  Directions relating to booths, bars, stalls and stands  Liquor must not be brought onto Ground  Prohibited behaviour within Ground  Personal conduct within Ground  Requirement to give name and address  Removal from scheduled lands  Banning from Ground  Trust may ban persons for specified period.

Under the by-law, private security personnel become ‘authorised persons’ and are able to enforce the rules and regulations set out: (1) In this By-Law, an ‘authorised person’ is ‘a person authorised by the Sydney Cricket and Sports Ground Trust to exercise the function in relation to which the expression is used’ (s 3(1)). Moreover, as representatives of the Trust, private security has the power to enforce the conditions of entry to the stadium, including searches, ejections, and denial of entry to unsuitable patrons.

In addition, the Major Events Act 2009 sets out provisions governing personal conduct of patrons. At a major event, venue patrons are instructed not to: ‘(a) use indecent or obscene or threatening language, (b) behave in an offensive or indecent manner, (c) cause serious alarm or affront to a person by disorderly conduct, (d) obstruct a person in the performance of the person’s work or duties, (e) fail to comply with a reasonable request or direction given … by the responsible authority or an authorised officer’ (s 44 (1)). Furthermore, under Section 45 of the legislation ‘authorised officers’ (police or private security) are allowed not only to exclude a person who fails to comply with directions but also to use ‘reasonable force’ to ‘effect the person’s exclusion’ (s 45 (3)). Thus, the legislation governing major event venues in New South Wales grants considerable powers to ‘authorised officers’ (public and private) and demands that patrons wishing to partake in the event succumb to a series of regulations that some commentators have argued breach civil liberties (see Palmer and Whelan, 2007 for a discussion on similar legislation in Victoria).

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The Physical and Social Geography of the Stadium

Anfield Stadium

Anfield Stadium is one of the oldest and most well known football grounds in England. The stadium draws its name from its geographic location in the district of Anfield in Liverpool. Anfield Stadium is situated two and a half miles (3km) from the Liverpool city centre. Most of the houses in Anfield are terraced houses from the late 19th and early 20th centuries. This type of property is particularly dense around Anfield Stadium. The stadium has no parking facilities for patrons, and the streets around the ground are subject to a residents-only permit parking scheme. There are about 10 public houses (pubs) within a one and half mile radius of the ground where both local and visiting spectators gather prior to the match. Alcohol is sold within the venue but is prohibited from being consumed in the seated areas.

The stadium was built in 1884 and originally was home to Everton FC. However, in 1892 a rent dispute resulted in the relocation of the team to Goodison Park. Since 1892, Anfield has been home to Liverpool FC, a club that was formed as a result of Everton leaving Anfield. In modern day football Liverpool FC and Everton FC are serious rivals. The local derby commands great attention from football fans as well as police and stewards. The venues are separated by Stanley Park. The proximity of the venues and the history of the clubs’ fan base as well as the involvement of both clubs in the major football competitions in England and Europe raise issues for the policing of football in Liverpool, as will be illustrated through the observational and interview data gathered for this study.

The stadium consists of four all-seater stands, following Lord Taylor’s recommendation that for the safety of spectators all terraces should be phased out and English grounds should be converted into all-seater venues by 1994. These changes were introduced after the Hillsborough disaster in 1989 (see Chapter 5). The four stands at Anfield are the Anfield Road Stand, the Centenary Stand, the Kop and the Main Stand, all of which are covered. The Anfield

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Road end and Centenary Stand are multi-tiered, whilst the Kop and Main Stand are single- tiered (see Figure 1 for a seating plan of the stadium). Entry to the stadium is gained by RFID smart cards (Radio Frequency Identification). The system was introduced at Anfield in 2005 and is currently used in all 80 turnstiles around the ground.

The ‘Kop’ is the ‘home’ end at Anfield Stadium. Fans interviewed for this study described the ‘Kop’ as a key location within the venue. During a match, it can significantly affect the atmosphere and at times even the result of a match, thus forming a significant part of the Anfield experience. The ‘Kop’ was born in 1906 when the then club directors built a new standing area of 132 treads from top to bottom. As Kelly (1993: 15) describes, ‘from the back of the Kop supporters had a spectacular view of Liverpool, all the way across Anfield and Stanley Park and down Goodison.’ The name Spion Kop was adopted from a hill in the Natal District upon which many infantrymen from local regiments died during the Boer War.

The Kop is where the ‘hard core’ fans gather to support Liverpool FC with chants that turned into songs by the 1920s. Several interviewees in this study report how the Kop to this day remains a central element in the ‘Liverpool Way’ of watching, and supporting football. As the following comment from a Liverpool FC supporter (#003) who has been attending Liverpool FC matches for over twenty years explains:

The Kop has the ability to suck the ball into the net! The Kop is the heart of Anfield. The chants and the songs, which are often made up on the spot and in response to the action on the pitch, generate a great atmosphere within the ground, the Kop in full song is an inspiring sight.

The Kop is therefore both a physical and a metaphysical space that takes on a personality of its own when ‘Kopites’ gather there to support their club. As the first point of the Kop Charter17 states, ‘First is that we are only custodians. The Kop is a spirit, an attitude, the heart and soul of Liverpool F.C. No-one owns it, but together we are a legion, a force like no other.’ Moreover, ‘There is no other. The Kop is a one-off. It’s the cradle of terrace culture, humour, 151 | P a g e

songs - the original 12th Man. The Kop innovates. It has never followed’ (Reclaim The Kop, 2007).

My observation concurs with the description of Liverpool fans who describe the Kop as a unique place compared to the rest of Anfield, with its own informed set of rules and modes of behaviour, unlike those found in other parts of the ground such as the Main Stand. For example, although ground regulations state that standing during the match is not permissible, standing is a regular occurrence within the Kop. Repeated requests through the public announcement system (PA) to sit down are generally ignored. The Kop is endowed with its own cultural norms and values.

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Anfield Stadium – Liverpool, England ‘Away End’ – Allocated seating dor opposition

‘First Aid Room’ -

Where treatment is ‘Police Room’ provided – patrons that have been arrested or detained are ‘Press room’ – held here

Dedicated to media personnel ‘Match control room’ – CCTV operatives, stadium management, police commander and safety certificate holder ‘Home End’ – The Kop Figure 1

Source: http://assets.liverpoolfc.tv/uploads/assets/anfield_stadium_plan_large.jpg

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Aussie Stadium

The Australian case is an all purpose, all-seater stadium located in Sydney.17 Aussie Stadium is situated next to the Sydney Cricket Ground (SCG), five kilometres from the Sydney central business district and adjacent to the bars, restaurants, cinemas and shops of the Entertainment Quarter. The stadium opened in 1988 and following capital works in 2007 the total capacity of the venue has increased from 42, 000 to 45, 500. The stadium has a wave-like roof and has undercover seating in the grandstands to the East and West of the ground and private suites and other seating to the North and South.

Alcohol is available within the ground but Stadium management has the authority to determine the level of alcohol concentration in the beer they sell, based on risk assessments for individual events. Furthermore, Aussie Stadium is a smoke free venue like all entertainment venues in New South Wales. However, provisions have been made to accommodate smokers. For instance, designated smoking areas are available for the Eastern Grandstand and Western Grandstand; these are located behind the grandstands in the outdoor areas. Patrons in the concourse can obtain a pass-out to smoke outside the venue. Additionally, alcohol free areas are available within the ground and determined on an individual event basis (Sydney Cricket Ground and Sports Ground Trust, 2010).

During Sydney FC matches the event managers assign ‘home’ and ‘away’ ends to segregate fans in an attempt to prevent disorder occurring between visiting supporters and Sydney FC supporters. The ‘Cove’ is the name given to the ‘home’ end at Aussie Stadium. The Cove expands over the Northern end of the stadium with the bays directly behind the goal normally packed with Sydney FC’s ‘hard core’ or ‘die hard’ supporters. As seen in Figure 2, Bay 23 is the ‘heart’ of the cove, situated right behind the goal. The ‘away’ end is situated on the Southern

17 The venue is commonly referred to as The Sydney Football Stadium but was renamed Aussie Stadium under a sponsorship deal at the time of data collection for this study. The deal has now expired and the venue name has reverted to The Sydney Football Stadium but Aussie Stadium will be used throughout the thesis

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end of the stadium. The Cove is ‘sacred ground’ for about 3,000 – 4,000 spectators, most of whom are young males and who show ownership of space through their continuous chants of: ‘We are the boys from Bay 23!!’ Although the stadium is an all-seater stadium, the majority of fans in the Cove stand during matches.

The Cove is also a distinct cultural space within the stadium. As will be shown, discussions between the Sydney FC, Aussie Stadium management and Cove members have led to alterations in the regulation of behaviour within the Cove in comparison with the rest of the venue. The following extract from the field notes of my first visit to the ‘Cove’ shows the distinct nature of the space:

Tonight, I’ve purchased a ticket in Bay 23. I’ve been told that Sydney FC supporters have organised themselves along the traditional lines of the English ‘home ends.’ As I make my way to the ‘Cove’ I begin to hear loud chants sung in unity, passionately if drunkenly. The chants vibrate throughout the stadium. As I draw near all I can see is a sea of blue covering the Bay. The first thought on my mind is – it’s beautiful, just like an actual cove. The atmosphere is that of a carnival. Sydney FC scarves are waved proudly in the air, giant flags, drums and whistles add to the colour and tone of the area. The Bay is full. I quickly notice the Cove is standing room only. The rows are overflowing. Two or three people stand in front of one chair while they sing and jump in unison. The chants are hyper-masculine and cursing is a common part of the lyrics. Having informed myself of the conditions of entry and the by-laws governing the behaviour of patrons within the ground, I can see stadium rules being broken left, right and centre. Yet there is orderliness to the disorderliness, with instructions coming from the front of the Cove through a megaphone. (Field notes: Aussie Stadium, 09/10/2005)

As described earlier, in both the English and the Australian stadiums, a set of laws and regulations are in place to govern behaviour in and around the grounds. However, spectators, as ‘meaning-making agents’ (Herbert, 1997: 568), also have their own normative order or sets of rules and values that affect how they behave. In enacting their own cultural rules, football fans are creating their own socio-spatial order, one that may at times be in conflict with the normative order desired in the articulation of formal legal and bureaucratic rules.

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Aussie Stadium – Sydney, Australia ‘Police Room’ - ‘Base’ – where situated in police and neighbouring private security building supervisors operate from ‘Control Room’ – Housing CCTV Operatives and Event manager

‘Home End’ ‘Away End’ – – The Cove Allocate seating for opposition supporters ‘Process Room’ – This is where patrons who have been detained or arrested Source: http://www.sydneycricketground.com.au/Venue_maps.html are held while paperwork is processed.

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The Policing Network and Strategies

The Anfield Set-Up

The crowd control network at Anfield is composed of both public and private control agents. In contrast to Sydney, Liverpool FC has its own in-house stewarding team whose members are trained and certified by the club. There are between 480 to 500 stewards in attendance on any given match day. Stewards do not have to be employed as private security, although some of them are qualified private security staff who work pubs and clubs during non-match days. A large number of stewards have other jobs. They may be teachers, nurses, postal worker, or students. All stewards are trained in-house regardless of whether they hold a security licence or not.

Stewards at most Premier League clubs have an age restriction. The minimum age is 18 and at Liverpool FC there is a maximum age of 65. Stewards are expected to be of good appearance as representatives of the club, physically fit and are required to attend at least 80% of all home games to be considered for continued paid employment with the club. Stewards are expected to report for work at the stadium at least two and a half hours prior to kick off, during which the stewards are briefed by the respective Head Stewards in the stand where they will be working. Head Stewards are firstly briefed by the Safety Certificate Holder, Deputy Safety Steward and Chief Steward prior to relaying the information to the stewards under their control.

A steward’s duties at UK venues vary depending on the type of steward. The steward categories are: the Chief Steward (commands all stewarding resources), the Deputy Chief Steward (provides assistance), Head Stewards (responsible for the supervision of all stewards assigned to his/her section), Deputy Head Stewards, Safety Stewards (responsible for designated area of the venue), Crowd Stewards (general crowd monitoring), Search Stewards, Lounge Stewards, Exit Stewards (man the electronically operated exit gates), Relief Exit

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Stewards (to relieve if exit steward is required to leave post), and Exits Controller (present in the match control room and operates the central control system of the secured gates).

As indicated, the data collated for this study covers a range of stewarding roles, and demonstrates the challenges of each role but also provides an overview of the general stewarding role within English stadiums. In the stewarding hierarchy outlined in the Liverpool FC Safety Handbook (2003), the Head Steward is most crucial to the relationship between public police and private agents. The Head Steward is to liaise with police officers in his/her assigned area and provide support and quick responses to any ‘incidents’. Moreover, Head Stewards are to brief all stewards working in their section of the venue and ensure that they fully understand the requirements for that match. The Head Steward then reports back any incidents of significance that may require attention by the club. The attitude of the steward performing this role significantly impacts on the nature and quality of the relationship between public police and private agents, as will be shown in the next Chapter.

The Safety Stewards are engaged in the management of risk around the venue. They are responsible for designated areas with a special emphasis on the refreshment bars. The activities that these stewards are concerned with include, but are not limited to, ensuring that firefighting equipment is in the necessary position, that no combustible materials are near the gas ignition points, and that main gas supply is turned off after refreshment bars have closed (shortly after half-time). Safety Stewards are expected to ensure that any fires or other occurrences of that nature which may be hazardous to the public are avoided, detected and promptly reported. This role mainly requires the private agent to be aware of occupational health and safety concerns that pose risks to the public in attendance (Liverpool FC Safety Handbook, 2003).

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The majority of stewards operating at Anfield are Crowd Stewards. The roles of the Crowd Steward are to direct, assist and control the public entering and leaving the stadium. These stewards are the ones who most readily come in contact with members of the public because their role is more closely aligned with the monitoring and controlling of spectator behaviour at all stages of their visit to the stadium. The Liverpool FC Safety Handbook (2003: 10) instructs Crowd Stewards to ‘secure good order and general safety during the period the public are in attendance.’ This is expected to be achieved through a variety of means, including assisting spectators to their seats, preventing spectator movement into restricted areas (e.g. pitch invasions). In the event of an emergency, the Crowd Steward is to assure the clearance of all spectators out of the Stadium prior to leaving him or herself. This requirement is subject to his/her safety.

Exit Stewards are responsible for manning the exit gates which are electronically operated. Exit Stewards are given a key and are instructed to only use it when commanded by Match Control. The Exit Steward attends to spectators who seek to leave the ground before exit gates are normally opened. Moreover, the Exit Steward is responsible for ensuring that the gate/door he or she is assigned to is in good working order prior to the admittance of the public into the ground.

In addition, the club hires between 50 to 80 police officers18 inside the ground on a user-pays basis. Merseyside Police are responsible for providing user-pays police to Liverpool FC and neighbouring Everton FC. Merseyside Police has a specialist Football Unit. Liverpool and Everton compete in several competitions each football season based on their performances in

18 The exact number of officers varies depending on a risk assessment developed for individual matches. For example during the 2005/2006 football season, Merseyside Police deployed 79 officers on ‘private duty’ inside the ground for a category C+ match between Liverpool FC and Manchester United. In that same season 50 officers were hired inside the ground for a category A match between Liverpool FC and Bolton. These numbers do not include those officers that are deployed to engage in ‘consequential policing’ outside the ‘footprint’ of the stadium. Matches are categorised by the police according to risk, determined by available intelligence. Category A matches are low risk matches and category C+ matches are high risk matches.

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the previous season. For instance for the season 2005/2006 both clubs played on the Premier League, F.A. Cup, Carling League Cup and in the European Competitions (UEFA Cup and Champions League). Therefore, for Merseyside Police football operations are a common part of their service portfolio.

Merseyside Police’s Football Unit is solely dedicated to the organisation and coordination of football operations in Liverpool. The Football Unit liaises with both Liverpool and Everton football clubs and provides police on ‘private duty’ as well as coordinating those officers that will engage in ‘consequential policing’ in the City Centre, railways stations and public houses. In the event of international fixtures police are also deployed to Liverpool airport to ‘meet and greet’ visiting supporters. Moreover, additional police resources are deployed when intelligence suggests that trouble between local and visiting supporters may ‘kick off’. The additional police personnel are used to escort supporter groups travelling by foot or on coaches to the venue. These policing resources may be drawn from the diverse branches of the policing organisation, for instance, additional mounted police may be used. An example of a match that would demand this kind of attention would be a Liverpool v. Manchester United match. All of these resources are co-ordinated on the police side of the operation by the Police Commander.

The Anfield Safety and Security Command Structure

As discussed earlier in this chapter, prior to Hillsborough, stewards did not perform a safety function within UK stadiums. The police were held primarily responsible for both order maintenance and safety. Under current UK arrangements, responsibility for safety falls on the club’s management. Police attend matches as required by the Safety Certificate. The Safety Certificate also grants authority to the local police to determine the necessary police numbers for each match. Thus, there is a distinction between ‘safety’ (club management responsibility) and security or order maintenance (police responsibility).

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Figure 3: Anfield Stadium Safety and Security Structure

Figure 3 shows the command structure currently operating at Anfield Stadium. The club Safety Officer holds overall responsibility. The person who holds this office is legally liable not only for the overall safety of the spectators but also for assuring that the physical building is in sound condition for the running of the event. These developments have emerged in the United Kingdom as a direct result of prior disasters within sporting grounds, particularly the Hillsborough tragedy in 1989 and the Bradford City Stadium fire in 1985 (see Chapter 5). Therefore, ‘safety’ for the clubs incorporates both managing crowd dynamics and human needs but also assuring that the physical space is ready to host the event. This is done through risk assessments and continual monitoring of all stadium areas for occupational health and safety concerns prior to, during and after the event.

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All the measures undertaken by the venue managers and all club staff including deputy safety officers and stewards in their various roles are aimed at conforming to the Safety Certificate and therefore include a range of activities that Wakefield (2003) would refer to as ‘housekeeping’ (e.g. keeping gangways clear and ensuring fire extinguishers are in working order).

Further, the Liverpool Football Club Safety Policy Statement sets out the role of each member of the command structure for safety at the venue and fulfils the requirements of Paragraph 2.6, Chapter 2 of the Home Office’s Guide to Safety at Sports Grounds (2008).

In the 8th edition of the Policy Statement of Safety (2003), the Liverpool Football Club stated that:

Overall responsibility for the safety management at the ground, including the staging and administration of events, rests with [the Chief Executive] and [the Secretary]. [The Stadium Manager and Safety Certificate Holder] is responsible for the safe condition of the stadium and will ensure that the design and construction of buildings and installations conform to good engineering and building practice. He will ensure that all components, installation and structures are maintained in such conditions as to perform properly their required functions. [The Ground Safety/Security Officer] is designated responsible for ensuring responsible implementation of safety procedures for compliance with the requirements of the General Safety Certificate issued by Liverpool City Council and, supervision of the Club’s match day operation. He will report to the Chief Executive/General Secretary on all matters of ground and spectator safety.

The Safety Officer is supported by the Match Safety Officer, Stadium Management and the Police Commander. At Anfield, the Safety Officer also performs the role of Stadium Manager and is the Safety Certificate holder. Figure 3 clearly illustrates that club representatives make up a larger part of the security network in the UK context. Although the chain of command places the Safety Certificate Holder as having overall responsibility for the safety of the event, the clubs do acknowledge that in the event of an emergency, the Police Commander would

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assume overall control after consultation and agreement with the Safety Certificate Holder, who is expected, as far as possible, to stay with the Police Commander until the major incident is over and to work together to co-ordinate a response. The transfer of control requires written confirmation by both parties when the overall control is transferred from the Safety Certificate Holder to the Police Commander.

Once the Police Commander assumes control, he/she is in a position to take decisions including postponing the kick-off, stopping the match, evacuating the stadium or any part of it in accordance with pre-determined procedures and co-ordinating the responses of the emergency services to any incident. Moreover, the Police Commander has the ability to request that Club Stewards be deployed to assist the police operation. In such a case the Chief Steward will make available as many stewards as possible but must also keep in mind that safety cover is maintained at exit gates and other important locations.

Policing Strategies

The strategies used to police football supporters in the UK are on the whole quite punitive. As Spaaij (2006) argues, since the 1980s official policies aiming to control and curb football related disorder have favoured measures of punishment and control. Current policing strategies employed in the policing of football matches in Liverpool include the use of increased surveillance through closed-circuit television systems (CCTV), physical barriers in segregating and directing spectators, high visibility stewarding and high visibility policing, intelligence gathering, and banning orders to control who attends matches. Merseyside Police advocate a policy of ‘Fair – Firm – and – Friendly’ in their football operations.

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CCTVs are used in football stadiums with the aim of enhancing surveillance and control over football spectators who are often considered to be ‘unruly’ and part of a ‘dangerous class’ whose risky behaviour necessitates constant monitoring. Further, following a review of the British Public Order Act in 1986, a new offence of ‘disorderly conduct’ was introduced. Therefore, the policing of football matches and football spectators has become increasingly focused on the twin pillars of close surveillance and intelligence gathering. The use of instruments such as mobile surveillance ‘hoolivans’, hand-held video cameras and the increasing use of plain-clothes police officers known as ‘spotters’ are prominent strategies in the policing of football matches in Liverpool. Armstrong and Hobbs (1994: 122) highlight the significance that intelligence gathering took in the policing of football with the role of police- spotter quickly developing into a fixed position in the operational policing strategy. Currently, the Football Unit within Merseyside Police employs two full-time ‘football intelligence officers’.

Intelligence gathered during lengthy covert inquiries has been used to charge and prosecute offenders. In the 1980s, dozens of alleged hooligans were prosecuted based on intelligence gathered. However, questions were raised about the validity and reliability of the way police intelligence was gathered following a series of false accusations and inadequately gathered intelligence. For example, five Chelsea fans were sentenced to up to ten years in prison for football related offences. However, subsequent trials collapsed due to irregularities in the way in which police evidence was prepared, notably the fabrication of evidence and procedural laxity of investigating officers (Williams et al., 1989: xxxvii; Reville, 1988: 12-14; Spaaij, 2005b; Ward and Hickmott, 2000). Similarly, Stott et al. (2008) report that inaccurate police intelligence can result in inappropriate containment practices against the football supporters. This is particularly salient in the practice of escorting football supporters to and from stadiums. Stott et al. (2008) contend that, more often than not, this practice is based on vague and inadequate ‘intelligence’. Thus, the exercise of police escorting football supporters to and from stadiums often results in the containment of largely ‘ordinary’ fans who are perceived and treated by police as risky. In response, football supporters interpret the practice as illegitimate and exhibit frustration and resistance to police instruction. This often leads to 164 | P a g e

confrontations between police and football supporters. A football fan interviewed for this study described his experience as follows:

For the life of me, I cannot figure out why police insist on escorting us into the stadium. Have you ever experienced it? Let me tell you it’s not fun! You’re pushed into a large crowd while forced to walk with horses pushing their knees into your back. It’s difficult to keep your balance and it makes me really nervous. If you step outside of the police cordon, well… let’s just say I’ve seen guys who have been pushed around by police and threatened with arrest if they don’t walk within the cordon. I find it amazing that stuff like that still happens in football today. (Liverpool FC supporter #004).

The practice of escorting football supporters to and from stadiums is part of a broader tactic of constant surveillance and control over the bodies of football supporters not only within the stadium but also in the wider urban landscape of the city. For example, there are over 300 cameras in operation at Anfield stadium and mobile vans with cameras attached also patrol the City Centre in the hours prior to and following the football fixture. In the same vein, a Liverpool FC supporter commented that she had even seen police officers wearing hats that had small cameras attached to them. This pervasive form of surveillance, is far reaching. For example, Merseyside Police are able to employ legislation to control the movement of football supporters. In 1989, the UK government introduced the Football Spectators Act. A central component of the statute was the international football banning order (FBO) which allowed the UK courts to control the freedom of movement of anyone convicted of a ‘football related’ offence. Following further serious disorder involving English fans at the 1998 World Cup Finals in France and the 2000 European Championships in Belgium the powers were strengthened by the Football (Disorder) Act 2000. Under the 2000 Act magistrates were authorised to serve suspected hooligans (also known as ‘prominents’ to the police) with FBOs in the absence of a criminal conviction for a football-related offence (Stott and Pearson, 2006). Further, Stott and Pearson (2006) contend that FBOs violate civil liberties: they provide the power to confiscate passports and to place individuals suspected of being a ‘risk’ under house arrest for the duration of certain matches or even for the duration of whole tournaments.

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The Aussie Stadium Set-Up

Unlike stadiums in England, the Aussie Stadium is not privately owned by any single sporting club. In fact the stadium is home to three clubs in three different leagues, Sydney FC (Hyundai-A League), Sydney City Roosters RLC (National Rugby League), and the NSW Waratahs (Super 14 Australian Rugby Union). Additionally the stadium can be hired for concerns (e.g. Robbie Williams Concert in 2003). The venue is managed by an elected board of trustees known formally as the Sydney Cricket and Sports Ground Trust and a senior management team that deals with the practicalities of organising and running events not only at Aussie Stadium but also at the neighbouring SCG. Overall accountability for the running of both venues is held by the NSW Minister for Tourism and Sport and Recreation.

The stadium’s crowd control network consists of eight full-time and part-time security professionals. These include a CCTV specialist and two security supervisors who work on a full- time basis at the venue. They are responsible for guarding the venue on a daily basis as well as preparing the venue for match days both in terms of physical structural security and organising the human resources. The stadium has a contract with National Entertainment Services (NES), a Newcastle (NSW) based private security company specialising in crowd management services within the entertainment context. NES provides private security guards in the role of crowd controllers to Aussie Stadium on match days. On average approximately 50-60 security officers are present at the stadium during a Hyundai A-League match. The number of private security officers present on any given match day is affected by numerous variables, including expected crowd size, the reputation of the visiting team, and any intelligence on possible disorder from the police or other sources.

The NSW Police Force User-Charges Unit based at Surry Hills Local Area Command (LAC) is responsible for co-ordinating and providing policing resources as required by the event organisers. This unit plays the role of the middleman between the Local Area Command (LAC) where the event is being held and the ‘client’. This unit has over 2000 names of NSW police

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officers on their user-pays database and has the power to draw officers from all over NSW to work a given event. The User-Charges Unit employs three full-time officers who co-ordinate events requiring the private hire of police resources within the Central Metropolitan Region, covering nine LACs. Police officers are recruited through an internal police network advertisement inviting officers to apply. More than double the required number tend to apply. Officers are selected for ‘user-pays’ duty based on several factors, including local knowledge (officers based locally where the event is being held), rank, regulars, specialism (e.g. Highway Patrol and first time applicants). In total, approximately 20-30 officers are engaged in user- pays duties during a Sydney FC home game. The ranks of officers hired include superintendent, sergeants and constables. Extra police patrols can also be deployed to the venue as needed.

Apart from the human element, an integral part of the security network at the stadium is its CCTV surveillance system which is employed to monitor crowd and traffic flow in the areas surrounding the venue as well as to monitor crowd behaviour within the ground. The system consists of approximately 300 cameras inside and outside the ground. The CCTV cameras have the capability to take photos and record incidents as they occur. As date and time are superimposed over the CCTV footage, it is readily used by the local police as evidence in bringing charges against offenders. Moreover, ‘event control’ also uses a six channel radio system to co-ordinate efforts between all services, including police, private security and ambulance services.

The Aussie Stadium Safety and Security Command Structure

Figure 4 was generated from interview and observational data to illustrate the co- agency hierarchical structure on match days at Aussie Stadium and the point of interaction between public and private representatives. As is shown in Figure 4, there is no direct point of contact between police and security. However, as will be shown later, as police and security work overlaps in practice, police and security officers do come into contact with each other. 167 | P a g e

Therefore, there is a higher degree of interaction taking place in practice than is suggested by the command structure.

From my observation, there are three distinct levels at which the NSW Police and private security operate during an event. At the bottom level are the police officers who are on ‘patrol’ – these officers patrol various sections of the stadium and work in pairs; their interaction with their private counterparts is limited. The second level includes officers who play a supervisory role, these officers are of sergeant rank and their role is to supervise groups of officers and liaise with private security supervisors. At the top level are the two NSW senior police officers who work in ‘the Police Command Base’ alongside ‘Control One’ who is a security supervisor. The two officers’ role is to oversee the entire operation from the police side and they allocate staff around the ground as required while at the same time communicating to the security supervisor what the police need from the private security. Event ‘Control One’ plays the same function but from the stadium side. At this level of the hierarchy there is constant communication between the public and private personnel.

Figure 4: Aussie Stadium Safety and Security Command Structure

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Additionally, the command structure in Figure 4 also shows that overall responsibility for safety and security is assigned to the stadium management and not the police. The police are hired by the stadium management on behalf of Sydney FC and thus the police are part of the stadium’s safety and security ‘quilt’. However, as the following comment from a NSW police officer illustrates, legislation does allow for police to take command over the security network in the event of an emergency at the venue:

The police will always be [in charge], because that’s our role in society like it’s legislated that we co-ordinate all rescue and anything at all to do with any major event. So, we’re always going to be the agency that organises it and then we’ll get other agencies, the combat agencies to deal with it. So there’s a lot of stuff in the State Emergency Act that sort of sets out what everyone will do. So I suppose that nothing will change there either, we’ll be in control of what happens… police have always acted and in most cases acted well in a crisis because that’s what we do all the time, we always deal with crises so we get good at dealing with it. (NSW User-pays police, #009).

Thus, the Police Commander is assigned responsibility when there is an emergency and he/she is free to co-ordinate all parties present at the event including public police, private personnel as well as all other emergency services staff – fire-fighters, ambulance officers and paramedics. In articulating their responses, several police officers in New South Wales differentiated the police role from the security role by highlighting the interpersonal and emergency skills that police develop in their day-today duties. This made police officers better equipped to deal with the ‘serious’ matters. In contrast, private security officers were seen as possessing only the skills to do the basic jobs of observing the crowd and providing basic customer service that would keep the spectators happy. The following exemplifies how NSW police officers perceived the public-private division of labour within the stadium:

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The security role, they maintain the inner perimeter of the ground whilst the game is going on, the smoking issues, the lost children, lost and found property – just your normal crowd control. And as for policing, we obviously attend to the more serious spectator issues which may lead to criminal matters like assaults. (NSW User-pays officer #006)

Policing Strategies

Similar to the policing of Anfield Stadium, the police and private security engaged in the policing of the Aussie Stadium have a wide range of tools and strategies at their disposal. These include physical barriers and segregation, surveillance through CCTV, intelligence, visible security presence, low visibility policing, and self-regulation of fans.

The physical layout and structure of the stadium is often used in the policing of football matches to achieve order and social control. In Sydney, segregation is a strategy that is employed to ensure that rival supporters do not come in contact with each other and therefore to avoid conflict that may arise from taunting or other forms of expression. ‘Home’ and ‘away’ supporters are allocated tickets at opposite ends of the stadium, requiring that they enter and exit the venue from different directions. Once inside the ground, spectators are assigned seating in order to avoid movement from one section of the stadium to the other. This, however, is not always achievable.

During my observations at the stadium in the 2005/2006 season, two incidents were observed where this strategy failed. In one instance, a Sydney FC supporter was able to infiltrate the ‘away’ end and return to the ‘home’ end with a souvenir. The following extract from my field notes describes the incident:

Sydney FC is playing Melbourne Victory, an arch rival. The Cove’s chants are especially loud tonight. They are literally willing Sydney to score a goal with their song. I’ve been told that the last time Sydney played the Victory in Melbourne, they lost 5-0. There are several home-made banners boasting of the win visible at the ‘away’ end. Then

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suddenly I hear a loud roar at the back of the Cove in the carpet area. I look back and I can see what’s got the bay literally roaring with excitement, there’s a group of the lads up there burning what looks like a Melbourne banner! There’s a young guy who has a crowd of other young men jumping on him congratulating him on obtaining the prize. Sydney FC won the match 2-1. (Field notes, Aussie Stadium, 03/12/05)

CCTV is often used in the policing of football to monitor crowd flow prior to kick off and after the final whistle. During the match it is used as a measure to assist in mobilising policing resources. CCTV operators ‘scan’ the crowd and often ‘pick-up’ incidents that require attention. Another way in which CCTV is used is when a security officer is to approach a spectator for a serious warning. The CCTV operator explained that private security and police often radioed in to request a camera be on them when they are about to approach a patron they expect may be troublesome because this way there is video footage of the interaction. In other instances I observed the CCTV system was utilised as an extra pair of eyes during volatile moments. Security would call and request an overview of what was occurring in a given area.

In addition, low police visibility particularly in the Cove was a strategy purposely implemented by the security network at Aussie Stadium. It was believed that too much police presence in the area would create conflict between this core supporter group and the police. Observations showed that private security had placed one security officer to perform a liaison role between security and the Cove. This approach had created a positive relationship between Cove members, stadium management and security.

A final strategy used at Aussie Stadium is to encourage the fans to self-regulate. Stadium management had met with football fan representatives, Sydney FC representatives, police and security to jointly co-ordinate a strategy for the policing of the Cove – the ‘home’ end. Management explained their decision to involve the fans as part of their social control strategy:

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In the very beginning, representatives from the Cove approached us [stadium management] and expressed an interest in working together to make Sydney FC matches an enjoyable experience for all involved. We arranged a meeting and they explained to us how they would like things to be and we presented our concerns and how we wanted to accommodate them. So then they appointed someone as a representative and now we meet on a regular basis to discuss different needs that they may have. For example, if they want to bring in giant flags we allow them if they run it past us first and we have found that if anyone is being troublesome we can approach the Cove representatives in the first instance and then most of the time they’re able to bring them back in line. At other times they approach us and point out people that do not want to play by the rules and then we intervene. So we have a good open communication that makes our job easier and hopefully makes their visit to our stadium more enjoyable.

Conclusion

This chapter has shown that the police policy of charging for services based on user- pays principles has had a long history. The expanded application of user-pays principles to the policing of football has resulted in the increased use of private agents instead of police in the policing of football in both England and Australia as private agents are cheaper to hire. At the same time, police are often able to maintain a role in the policing of football through legislation that authorises the police to conduct risk assessments to determine appropriate policing levels. For example in the UK under regulations outlined in the Safety Certificate, the police are authorised to determine the number of police that should be present at any given match following an intelligence based risk assessment. Similarly in Sydney the NSW Police Force Cost Recovery Policy explicitly states that event organisers must comply with the police recommendations on required police numbers. Thus, legislation is a means of ordering football into a plural policing network that perhaps would not exist given that increasingly football clubs and event organisers are experimenting with ‘police free’ events, gradually dissolving police control over the market.

The laws and regulations governing the policing of football provide police and private agents with a wide range of powers to control the movement of football supporters in order to maintain public order. In most jurisdictions security officers have a wide range of legal tools available to them in delivering policing services. These powers are based on citizens’ rights to 172 | P a g e

arrest, use force and so on. However, private security officers receive greater powers depending on place. For example, private security officers operating on private property and/or securing areas where those who frequent them are under contract are significantly empowered by property and contract law (Stenning and Shearing, 1979; Sarre and Prenzler 2005; Button, 2007). Further, Jason-Lloyd (2002) has also identified that special powers are given to private security agents who work in airports and courts.

In terms of the policing strategies used at each site there were vast similarities in the treatment of spectators at both sites. Policies and strategies used in public order maintenance have been reactive rather than proactive. In the UK Crowd control measures have largely been punitive in nature, including high visibility policing, segregation of home and away fans, and tougher penalties for football offences (especially in England with the increasing use of banning orders). In contrast, in Australia strategies have included low visibility policing, open communication with fans in the operation and formation of the Cove. Further, crowd control measures in both locations have involved constrictive forms of containment and surveillance in and around football stadiums. These strategies have been increasingly influenced by technological developments, such as the use of CCTV systems and computer databases (cf. Frosdick and Marsh, 2005: 153). A clear distinction between the two sites was visible in the use of self-regulation by football fans. The strategy was successfully implemented at the Sydney site with Cove supporters reporting positive relations with the club, security and stadium management as a result.

In contrast, in the English setting spectators were highly regulated by social control agents to the extent that often ‘ordinary’ fans were subjected to highly territorial practices. This over policing of football supporters in the UK has raised questions over the violation of civil liberties. For example the territorial control of football supporters is so expansive that it extends beyond the venue and beyond the match day experience. Under the Football (Disorder) Act 2000 football supporters ‘suspected’ of being a ‘risk’ to public order can have their passports confiscated (preventing travel) and held under house arrest for the duration of a match and even for the duration of entire tournaments. Further, no convictions are 173 | P a g e

necessary for an individual to be placed under the restrictions of FBO. Thus UK police exercise territoriality over football supporters through both physical and legislative means. For example the use of cordons to escort supporters to and from stadiums and segregation practices are physical means of practising territoriality to establish a normative social order in which exclusion practices play a significant role. Further, the law serves as a tool in establishing territoriality.

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CHAPTER SEVEN: PLURAL POLICING AT WORK

Introduction

A series of attempts to conceptualise the nature of public-private policing relationship can be identified in the policing literature. Kakalik and Wildhorn (1977) speak of a ‘junior partner’ model in which the private agents are seen as the ‘junior’ partner based on differential levels of experience, power and training. Pluralists like Shearing and Stenning (1983) contend that both the police and private agents are individual and relatively autonomous entities that collaborate with one another. Similarly, Ericson (1994: 153) speaks of a ‘security quilt’ in which the public and private agents each have a unique role to play in contemporary policing. The unique contributions that each provides are necessary components of the ‘security quilt’. Drawing on the historical and contemporary literature on private security and policing, Sarre and Prenzler (2000) have identified several models of how public police and private security work together. The models include19:

 The property model – There is limited interaction between the two agencies, as roles and responsibilities are separated by property boundaries.  The division of labor model – There is some interaction, with method or approach to policing dividing the two agencies.  The competing forces model –Tensions arise between public and private providers because functions are similar, resulting in competition. Conflict between the two arises due to competing ideologies.  The supplementary service model – There is a high degree of interaction, however private security is seen as a supplementary labor source. The police hold a greater degree of authority provided through legislation.  The ad hoc partnership model – This explains the practical relationship between police and private agents as one of convenience. There is a co- operative interaction that occurs but only for limited periods of

19 Each of these has been discussed in more detail in Chapter 2.

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time and in response to specific problems.  The combined forces model – There is a high degree of interaction which is visible through continued communication and intelligence sharing; a symbiotic relationship exists between the police and private agents.

Each of the models identified in the literature highlights the presence of issues or challenges in the public-private policing relationship. Firstly, the literature shows that traditionally the police have held a patronising, negative and even antagonistic attitude towards private security (Clifford, 1983; Cunningham and Taylor, 1985). United States Private Security Advisory Council (1977) found the following to be barriers to the generation of collaborative partnerships between police and private security: a lack of mutual respect, negative stereotypes, status differentials, and mutual perceptions of corruption, poor communications and inadequate standards in the training of private security personnel.

Empirical research specifically concerned with the policing of football matches has found that there is a hierarchical order between public and private policing agents. For example O’Neill (2004), in her study of social interaction and negotiated disorder in Scottish football, found that in contrast to the formal police hierarchy in which power takes a top to bottom approach there exists an informal pecking order in football policing. Using a Goffmanesque framework, O’Neill (2005) explains that agents engaged in what is regarded as ‘real police work’ take a higher position in the informal hierarchy that emerges during football policing. Hence, the football spotter is at the top of the hierarchy as their role is directly concerned with catching the ‘bad guy’ through intelligence gathering. This gives ‘legitimacy’ to their performance (O’Neill, 2004). At the other end of the hierarchy is the steward. The stewards are not only non-police, but are seen in the Scottish context as having minimal influence on the policing of a match because of their lack of power in comparison with the police. O’Neill’s findings are similar to Kakalik and Wildhorn (1977) junior partner model and Sarre and Prenzler’s (2000) supplementary service model. In each instance the functions or performance of the private policing agent are perceived as inferior to that of the police.

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The literature identifies three key elements that characterise positive plural policing partnerships, these include: open communication, jointly co-ordinated responses to crime and disorder and regular contact between police and security. Open communications create trust that result in channels for the sharing of intelligence. McManus (1995) argues that that knowledge sharing helps generate high quality and co-operative policing networks. Further, successful plural policing networks are characterised by mutual respect, where police are able to acknowledge and value the contribution of private policing agents. This is most often expressed through jointly co- ordinated responses to crime (Wakefield, 2003). Finally, regular contact between public and private policing agents also contributes toward a more positive public- private relationship. Regular contact may be achieved in a variety of ways, including formal or informal meetings, phone calls to follow up on incidents or to share intelligence, attendance at social gatherings and even the use of liaison officers to facilitate the relationship (Wakefield, 2003).

Another element central to the nature of plural policing partnerships are the individuals subjected to a policing strategy that employs both public and private agents. In the context of football policing, the work of psychologist Stott and Reicher is of particular significance. Using the Elaborated Social Identity Model (ESIM) the authors contend that disorder at football matches is best explained as a result of interactions between policing agents (public or private) and spectators. Drury et al. (2003) and Stott and Reicher (1998a and 1998b) have argued that the crowd can often react negatively to another group’s action. For example, the use of over-controlling, paramilitary strategies in public order maintenance can result in conflict between the policing agent and football supporters. Therefore, policing agents must contend not only with the intricacies of the public-private interaction but must also consider the inter-group dynamics presented by the ESIM. Arrest for minor offences may spark a riot in which the performance of the policing agents is questioned by those observing the performance. Waddington (1998) explains that the image of the social control agent can suffer significantly if inter-group dynamics are ignored. Further, Warren (1998) warns that policing

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agents must give due consideration to the spectator culture of individual sports, failure to do so can result in conflict between policing agents and supporters. Particularly during displays of ‘aggro’ (Marsh et al., 1978) policing agents would be best advised to adopted a minimal intervention strategy, as inappropriate interventions on the cultural practices of spectators may lead to conflict between policing agents and spectator.

This chapter describes how plural policing works in practice in football matches at the two research sites. It examines the nature of the relationship between the main players: the police, private security or stewards, and the football spectators at different stages of the match. It also examines the perceptions of each of these players, towards the other. The chapter also identifies several management and policing issues that are present in Merseyside but not present in the Sydney setting. This is largely due to the difference in stadium design and the disparity in the popularity of football between the sites. Anfield Stadium, as previously mentioned, was built in 1884; in contrast, Aussie Stadium was built in 1988. Anfield Stadium was built during a time when the automobile was not a primary form of transport; as such, the design of the venue did not take into account that one day thousands of people would be travelling by car, buses and train into Anfield to participate in a mass spectator event. Though in the Sydney setting, people and traffic management are a consideration, they are not as prominent as they are in the Liverpool setting. Moreover, English football is so popular that Anfield boasts an attendance average of 42, 000 spectators per Liverpool FC home match; in contrast, Aussie Stadium hosts an average of 10, 000 per Sydney FC match. These differences are noteworthy as they impact the nature of football operations, the dynamics of policing, and the relationship between police managers and event managers, between public and private police, and between policing agents and spectators in each setting.

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Relationship between Police and Football Club/Stadium Management

Merseyside Police and Liverpool FC representatives both described their relationship as positive. It is common for retired English police officers to hold high level managerial and supervisory roles with a football club’s stewarding team, as Deputy Safety Officers, Chief Stewards, or Deputy Chief Stewards. This was the case at both Liverpool FC and Everton FC. This transition from police service to club service served as an advantage in developing and effective police-club relationship. In essence the networks are already in place, insider knowledge and awareness of both the needs of the clubs and the challenges of policing football serve as measures that facilitate the joint coordination and planning of football operations. In this situation long entrenched friendships between serving and retired police officers serve to facilitate the flow of intelligence and open the lines communication. Similar findings were reported by (Wakefield, 2003).

However, the positive relationship between the Club and Merseyside Police was a cause of tension within policing ranks. Several officers interviewed for this study reported a concern over what they described as an imbalance of power, with the Club perceived as dominating the police-club relationship. The following quote from a senior user-pays officer demonstrates the concern:

At my level it seems to be too close, I think it’s too close and there should be more distance. The police liaison officers—at times you feel as if the police liaison are working on behalf of the Club, telling the police what’s happening when really they should be telling the clubs how the police feel about things. (Merseyside user-pays officer #107)

Other Merseyside user-pays who were suspicious of the ‘too close’ relationship between police and Club linked their concerns to the costs of policing. A managerial police officer (#111) from Merseyside explained the delicate relationship that resulted in a power struggle that had wide reaching consequences:

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They [the clubs] are prepared to pay £120, 000 per week for players on the pitch but won’t pay £6, 000 per match for the policing. If you add that up over a season, it probably doesn’t even come close to one player’s wages for one week for the policing costs, and they get a lot of policing for free! Outside these grounds are police that are distracted from policing the rest of Merseyside. It’s my view that any football match should be policed at full costs recovery by Merseyside police and every single officer working this match should be paid for.

A delicate situation occurs at Anfield, where three of the four sides of Anfield Stadium are technically on public land, though they are heavily used by the Club because patrons congregate in those areas in order to access the turnstile on match days. Since the areas are congested with patrons on match days the police view it as areas that require police resources, however, the Club refuses to pay for all police deployed to those areas because technically it is classified as ‘public’ space and hence the responsibility of the police, just like any public street or park would be. As a senior police officer explained to me during an informal conversation, the costs of policing is a ‘tug-of-war’ that has been occurring between the police and the clubs for many years, and the hope is that once Liverpool FC relocates to its new stadium, it will open up an opportunity for the police to renegotiate a lot of the old arrangements and end up with a fairer cost division in which clubs take greater responsibility.

The following statement by an experienced Merseyside police officer who has worked both operationally and administratively with the organisation of mass public order events illustrates how some police are not happy with the current arrangements for the policing of football, particularly when compared with other events, and he places some of the blame for the current situation on those officers who deal more directly with the Club. There appears to be some dissatisfaction with having the football policing operations being managed by a specialist football unit, as opposed to having football policing under the same umbrella body as other public order events. This suggests the presence of conflicting attitudes within the policing ranks themselves:

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I think it might just be various personalities in Merseyside Police that police football matches and they’ve always policed them in that manner and really it is way behind the way we police other events in Merseyside, in the sense that if you as an event organiser put on an event, you will be responsible for the safety and security of anyone attending that event, which includes the traffic management to and from the stadium… Police responsibility is crime and disorder and the safety and security of the people attending an event is the responsibility of the event organiser. (Merseyside, user-pays officer #00)

It is not lost on the English police that football is big business and that these clubs are generating millions in income and paying their players ‘outrageous’ amounts to play football and should therefore be expected to make a greater contribution to the costs of policing the matches. The police argue that the clubs are holding events that congregate thousands of people into Liverpool and they should be held liable for the safety of their fans, be they in the stadium or in the City Centre, as one Merseyside officer explained:

The clubs are only concerned with what happens inside the stadium. Once they the fans+ are outside the stadium, they say, “Well, they fans are the responsibility of Merseyside Police’, which we don’t necessarily agree with because they are customers of the club. (Merseyside user-pays officer #003)

A further policing challenge faced by Merseyside Police, that was not as prominent in Sydney (due to significantly lower attendance and to difference in stadium planning), is the responsibility for traffic management to and from Anfield Stadium this causes resentment between police managers and the football clubs that hire policing services. The following statement from a Merseyside managerial police officer explains the extent of the burden on police resources:

Well, at the moment the Club receives between 50 and 100 coaches per match, buses that we the police park up. There’s also a huge traffic management problem on a match day, the police are left to get on with it. But there is legislation which says that the Club should be taking responsibility for these issues. But because we have been in a situation for so many years where we the police have done it, it is very, very difficult to change procedures and they [the Club] will resist it.

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Moreover, the large influx of cars into Anfield results in high rates of car theft or damage to vehicles during a football match. Auto crime challenges generated by the mass gathering of vehicles in the vicinity of the stadium have led Merseyside Police to implement a special operation known as ‘Operation Indigo’ in an attempt to reduce auto crime in the area during football matches. A police officer explained to me the externalities that emerged from the events in the stadium; as we walked around the perimeter of the venue, he pointed out that visitors to Anfield20 often were unaware of the region and did not understand that Anfield was a relatively high crime area generally, yet they brought in their expensive cars and parked them in a neighborhood that was highly disadvantaged and the ‘lads’ knew that match day was a good day for them to go out and steal a car.

Thus, evidence gathered through interviews and informal conversations show that policing costs are a top concern for Merseyside Police, with lower ranking officers questioning the nature of the relationship between managerial Police and Club Management. The concerns over the costs of policing are not lost on Anfield Stadium’s management team. However, the stadium manager explained that:

We are very fortunate, in that we have a very good relationship with Merseyside Police. The Inspectors we deal with are highly experienced at running football operations. Mind you, that doesn’t mean that we don’t have our disagreements. The difference is that we both understand the nature of the beast. However, good friends we may be, when it comes to standing my ground I will not hesitate, and police costs are just one of those areas where we constantly need to negotiate. The good thing about our *Club’s+ relationship with Merseyside Police is that we can both state our points firmly, but then also go on with business. No resentments. (Anfield Stadium Manager)

20 A large proportion of Liverpool FC fan base does not reside in Liverpool but travel from neighbouring English and European cities into Anfield.

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The statement made by the Anfield manager shows that senior police officers engaged in user- pays policing must employ business ethics and practices to facilitate a relationship with football clubs and stadium managers.

Similarly, New South Wales user-pays officers employed in a managerial role had a tendency to define their role at the stadium as being about business management and people management. A NSW police officer explained that his role as coordinator of the events is ‘to provide public order management and liaise between stadium management, security and operational police, ensuring that [we] provide appropriate responses to the needs of the hirer’ (NSW police officer #003). This statement demonstrates how the user-pays system, which allows organisations to hire police officers, has altered the nature of public order policing at sporting events. Instead of solely providing a public service, police forces are now performing a business function.

In New South Wales, managerial police often relied on their legislated authority to be present at football matches and established user-pays policy when negotiations between the police and hirers were at an impasse. A NSW police Inspector (NSW user- pays officer #006) explained:

…at the end of the day the hirer may say, ‘We only want, say, 20 police officers’ and we will turn around and say, ‘Well, our intelligence shows that you need 30 to run that event safely’, and we will not approve them running that event when there is such a big disparity in what they feel the event requires and what we feel it requires to be a safe event. [Emphasis added]

This statement supports the conclusions of Grabosky and Ayling (2007) who explain that police departments in most countries with ‘user-charge’ policies hold a great deal of power in negotiating policing levels with hirers of policing services because the police presence at major public events is legislated. For example several Australian jurisdictions, including New South Wales, clearly stipulate in their user-pays policing policy that responsibility for the assessment of policing requirements for events ultimately rests with the police. Event organisers are ‘to 183 | P a g e

accept police advice’ regarding the level of police presence needed at any given event (NSW Police Service 2010: para 5.4).

Police managers in Merseyside and in New South Wales presented themselves as being above all else safety conscious, while event managers were perceived by police management as being motivated by profit margins. Event organisers were described by police as working within a framework where cost cutting and expenditure minimisation are of utmost importance. As a NSW managerial officer (#008) explained, ‘For all their talk of “reconciliation”, we know that what matters to them stadium management is money, that’s the bottom line, whereas for us it’s about order maintenance regardless of the costs’. However, observations reveal that both the police and the clubs are driven by cost considerations. Several police officers and both stadium managers at each site made comments about the single most significant issue, costs for policing services. For example, during one of my ‘walkabouts’ around Anfield I encountered a high ranking police officer who asked me what I was interested in learning about football. I told him I wanted to know how the system worked. He then told me to: ‘follow the money trail’ and winked. When I asked what he meant by that he made a gesture to indicate his lips were sealed and said ‘you’re a smart girl, you must know what I mean!’ and walked away.

Conversations, stadium managers show a desire to minimize costs and maximize profits, while the police (at both sites) were interested in ‘recovering costs’ as well as maintaining order. Thus, both groups are driven by cost consideration. Police managers were not being totally honest when they said that they want ‘order maintenance regardless of the costs’ – it is precisely because there are limited police resources that user-pays policy was originally introduced.

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Relationship between Public and Private Policing Agents

Public Police and In-house Stewarding

The relationship between police and stewards in the Liverpool case was mixed. Officers were often critical of stewards’ actions and attitudes, but there was also a tendency to qualify their criticism. Police in Liverpool placed stewarding and private security work in the night-time- economy (NTE) at opposite extremes, often describing stewarding as ‘volunteer work’ by community members. Liverpool FC stewards received payment for their service – albeit at a low rate – and are therefore not volunteers but in-house private policing agents. Nonetheless, Merseyside police officers interviewed for this study tended to refer to the low pay rate and historical legacy of the steward as providing a service for their local club, as the dominating image of the steward (Wright, 2007). Evidence for the connection between the football steward and his/her local community and local football club was found, when considering the reasons for engaging in stewarding duties: love of the Club topped the list, followed closely by a desire to contribute to the success of ‘their club’, for a ‘bit of money’ and for love of the game, i.e. the opportunity to be around football. A Liverpool FC Steward (#0007) explained:

Stewarding at Anfield is about being actively involved with my local club. It’s about a love that you feel for the club that has been such a large part of your life and such a large part of the community. It makes me feel like I’m part of the team when I’m in Anfield. That’s why I do it, and of course the bonus is that you get to experience the atmosphere, be close to the boys.

Exemplified in this statement is the historical legacy of the football steward, as being driven by a genuine commitment to the club and not a ‘pay cheque’, very unlike the perception of private security officers. While the words expressed by the steward are endowed with idealistic sentimentality, the image rings true to some user-pays police officers. Stewards were generally perceived by Merseyside user-pays officers as non- threatening, as communal not commercial, and therefore police generally expressed low levels of expectations. Similarly,

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stewards reported a good relationship with their public counterparts. Therefore, historical legacy influenced the nature of the public-private relationship in Liverpool.

Additionally, observational data revealed that there was a willingness from Liverpool FC stewards to follow police instruction. Though empowered by legal powers provided under property and contractual law stewards showed a reluctance to intervene, even in minor matters of public order. On one occasion, while on ‘walkabout’ with a Liverpool FC Head Steward we came across a crowd steward and a police officer speaking with a member of the public, the Head Steward approached the gathering and asked me to wait back. On his return he said, ‘I thought, there might be something for you to see there but it was nothing. Truthfully, that steward could have handled the matter himself but better safe than sorry, I suppose.’ (Field notes, Anfield Stadium, 09/04/2007). While I was not privy to the details of that particular incident, I did observe on other occasions, a willingness from stewards to approach police for assistance and a police willingness to assist.

Public Police and Contract Security

In contrast to Liverpool, interviews and observational data gathered from the Sydney site revealed a high level of distrust and New South Wales user-pays officers reported a range of negative perceptions of both private security officers generally, and crowd controllers at Aussie Stadium specifically. Police interviews showed that police officers in Sydney, classified security guards working the stadium into four categories. These include: the ‘wannabe cop’, the ‘knuckle dragger’, the ‘free-loader’, and the ‘see no evil, hear no evil, say no evil.’ In contrast, private security described the police generally in a positive light. Their main concerns included police’s slow response to calls for assistance and a feeling of distrust which emerged out of awareness that police disliked private security.

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According to the police, the ‘wannabe cop’ is the private security officer who has a desire to be a police officer and who engages in security work as a means of compensating for the fact that they are not police officers. The following comment from a NSW police officer exemplifies the police perspective:

Some of them [private security] are frustrated police and don’t have the wealth of experience that most police officers have dealing with the public. I mean, you know their industry, the security industry is probably something that needs a bit more training and more scrutiny as to who is licensed. I don’t know that it’s going to get any better because the more we go on, the more security oriented people are in all sorts of areas so the demand for their service is high. (NSW User-pays police officer, #009).

As the statement illustrates, private security were perceived by some police officers as ‘frustrated police’. Security officers were reported as possessing minimal training21 in comparison with the ‘wealth of experience’ of a police officer. This lack of training was presented by police officers in this study as a justification for maintaining a critical view of security work. Additionally, a senior officer (Inspector) compared the skills and procedural practices of the police with those of private security as follows:

The training by police officers in dealing with violent offenders is on a regular basis, while some security guards have no confrontation with violent offenders. Our job in the police service is everyday dealing with violent offenders. But saying that, some police also have not got the ability to manage violent offenders or crowds that are out of control, we’re all human. We focus a lot of training and at out briefings we go over a lot of techniques and requirements, what is required of them during the event, what they’re supposed to be doing, how we expect them to do it and what we expect them to do after an arrest if there is, during the arrest process. The after stage, the debriefing we have debriefs after all our events, so we get all this information and feedback on how we can do it better and we tell them how they can do it better. I don’t know if the security staff does that, probably not. They probably just clock off, see you later. (NSW User-pays police officer, #005).

21 Crowd Controller training consists of a two week training period in most Australian jurisdictions. 187 | P a g e

From my observations, security staff at the venue followed a similar process to that of the police of pre-event planning, including a risk assessment and briefing meeting, and a post- event briefing. Thus, the assumptions made about the procedural practices of security are not founded on fact but rather on the perception that private security officers are careless about their work. This finding is similar to previous research where the occupational culture of public and private policing agents is seen as affecting the possibility for efficient and effective public- private policing networks. For example, Button (2007) identifies the ‘Wannabe somewhere else or doing anything else’ characteristic of private security occupational culture, with private security showing low commitment and poor orientation to the job. In contrast, some police officers often perceive police work as ‘noble’ and ‘selfless service’ (Reiner, 2000).

The ‘knuckle dragger’ was used by police and some security supervisors in Sydney to describe a particular type of crowd controller who relied on his physical presence to exert control over the crowd. This type of crowd controller was seen as atavistic, lacking in intelligence and communication skills. When I first heard the phrase, I asked a security supervisor I was shadowing to explain its meaning, as I was unfamiliar with it and had heard it now from police. He said:

Well… have you ever observed a gorilla? Watched how he stands and walks? You’ll notice that the gorilla is a big animal he is imposing through sheer size. But he’s not the brightest tool in the box. The gorilla’s posture is so … that his arms hang long and he drags his knuckles on the ground. That’s where the phrase comes from. It is used to describe security officers who are big and imposing but who lack understanding about social dynamics. (Field notes, Aussie Stadium, 03/02/2006).

The ‘free-loader’ was described by police officers as being simply concerned with watching the football match instead of actually policing the event. Officers reported that in patrolling the ground they often encounter private security officers who were watching the game instead of monitoring the crowd. Observational data supports this claim. On several occasions during fieldwork I observed private security staff caught up with the events on the pitch. For example, during an observational period at the ‘away’ end of the stadium I observed a private security guard who was watching the game as opposed to the crowd and after some time, he took a

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seat in the ‘away’ bay and sat there for over ten minutes watching the game. It was not until a supervisor came by his area that he stood up again, but he continued to watch the game, standing this time.

Finally, the ‘see no evil, hear no evil, say no evil’ security officer was described by police as someone who was reluctant to get involved in the practicalities of crowd control. This type of private security officer was perceived as problematic because their work practice resulted in more work for police. Operational police in this study expected private agents to play a front line role in dealing with volatile situations, and that police backup should only be requested if truly necessary. NSW police officers reported that at times the private security staff simply didn’t show sufficient initiative and often called in for the police to manage a situation when the security officer should have handled it on their own. Approximately 70% of police officers interviewed for this study accused their private counterparts of being over-dependent on the police, expecting officers to do their job for them. The following comment from a NSW police officer illustrates this:

In many cases security should be intervening first and trying to resolve or dissolve problems... My view is that the security should initially intervene in a low key role to try to stop trouble from escalating or stop somebody from doing something wrong, particularly for minor things and then if required after that, seek police assistance to help them or to take over the situation, which often we do. I think the security in many cases should be there in the first instance trying to stop trouble from escalating and then the police to prevent any breaches of peace as a result of the security intervention. (NSW User-pays police officer #007)

Given that the police were critical of private crowd controllers as a whole for being ill- trained in people management, it is ironic that they would advocate that private agents should serve as the frontline for the control of disorderly behaviour.

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Despite the general antagonism and distrust articulated by most of the New South Wales user- pays police officers interviewed for this study, there were some positive comments made about private security at the stadium. For example, some officers distinguished between private security in the NTE (e.g. bouncers) and crowd controllers at Aussie Stadium. Private security in the NTE was seen as by far the most problematic form of private security. A New South Wales user-pays officer described the difference as follows: ‘They seem to pick very good security, compared to what we normally deal with in the city [laughs]. The quality of security guards is much higher [at the stadium] than what we would normally deal with in here *the city+ at least.’ (NSW User-pays police officer #001).

Private security were generally very positive about the police they worked with. One area of concern that did come through the interviews was a lack of solidarity between police and private security. An Aussie Stadium security guard explained how at times he felt that the police would hold back too much and not support the security until the situation had escalated to a dangerous point. For this guard and others the police behaviour signified that there was very much an ‘us’ versus ‘them’ attitude between police and security guards on the ground. This police behaviour resulted in security guards joining together to protect each other and ‘look out’ for one another because the police were not to be depended on. As the guard said, ‘it can be dangerous work and it’s nice to know who you can depend on. I would jump in to defend anyone of the guys I work with at the stadium if anything broke out because we’re like one team and the police they are different to us.’ (NSW Private Security #005)

Private Security: Roles and Motivations for Security Work

Part of the police perception of security as described above was based on assumptions about the motivations for joining the private security industry. Findings from this study provide an insight into the motivations that drive people to join the private security industry generally and to work in crowd control duties specifically. The challenges that private policing agents encounter in the performance of their duty also provide an insight into the nature of security 190 | P a g e

work. These are themes that have received little or no attention in earlier work on football policing.

It is clear also from the participant observation data that the roles of private security personnel at Aussie Stadium extended beyond that of crowd control or crowd monitoring. These included general ‘customer service’ duties and the enforcement of the guidelines and by-laws regulating behaviour in the ground. Additionally, private agents assisted police and provided back-up during incidents of public disorder. These finding are in accordance with previous research, for instance the roles identified here are very similar to the six categories that Wakefield (2003: 165) identified as being typical of the roles that private security engage in when policing areas of ‘mass private property’ and ‘quasi public space’, including ‘housekeeping’, ‘customer care’, and ‘preventing crime and anti-social behaviour.’

As the section on the police perspective has indicated, police hold their own preconceived notions of why individuals might be attracted to private security work generally. These notions affect the quality of the public-private policing relationship. In the Australian context police were largely suspicious of private security. Officers were much more likely to question the motivations of their private counterparts and to label them as ‘wannabe cops.’

However, interviews with private security in the Australian setting revealed that only one of the private security personnel had an interest in joining the police force; the majority were engaged in security work for other reasons. The top four reasons given by participants in this study included: finding the shift work nature of the industry appealing in maintaining other life commitments (e.g. families and tertiary studies), the occupation provided a good source of income for minimal hours work, the opportunity to be part of big events that very few people get to witness (e.g. music concerts and sporting finals) and in crowd control work especially it was the interactive nature of the work. The following excerpts from interviews with private security personnel illustrate the range of motivations for doing security work:

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It was money pure and simple. As a uni student I wanted something that was flexible with my hours really and as a security guard it’s mostly shiftwork and at night and that fits in quite well. Spend the day at uni and go to work at night work till four in the morning kind of thing. (NSW private security officer #01)

Wanted to keep myself active, it’s also good for meeting people and stuff like that. I actually enjoy working the football matches a lot more than other security jobs I’ve done. I used to work in a shopping centre; all I did was walk around all day looking at all the shops and watching the cars in the car park [laughs]. (NSW private security officer #08)

The reason I got into it [security] is because I did volunteer work at the country music festival and I said to myself ‘Hey I can do this! I can watch a concert and get paid for it!’ So that was my motivation. (NSW private security officer #03)

These statements illustrate the diversity of motivations for individuals engaged in private security work and crowd control work specifically in the Australian setting. Observational data show that the range of motivations affects the range of approaches to crowd control. Some of the data concur with the police perspective. There are clearly visible inconsistencies based on the guard’s attitude towards the work they are performing. The following extract from my observational log book illustrates this:

Watching the security guards at today’s match it was clear that there are different types of guards based on their approach to crowd control. Some guards are happy to stand around and watch the match while occasionally glancing at the crowd and taking action when their supervisors request it. I’ve even seen guards sitting down to watch the match! Other guards are like hawks constantly watching the crowd intently. However, when a potential risk is perceived they are inactive and often hesitate to act without police support. Then there’s a third kind of security guard, they are vocal and spectators seem to know them well. They observe the crowd like the second type of guard does, but they also use the crowd to aid them. Patrons regularly approach them to point out trouble makers and support them when they approach someone being disorderly. This type of guard is rare but present at the venue. It may be that they have more experience than other guards or are regularly working at the stadium as opposed to other guards who come in now and then, given the shift work nature of the industry. (Field notes, 12/08/2006)

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When undertaking interviews with the private security officers at Aussie Stadium I asked the security supervisor who managed all private security at the stadium what he felt the role of the crowd control personnel hired by the stadium was, he gave a standard and somewhat practised answer: ‘Simply to take care of the safety of all patrons and make sure that all visitors to the stadium enjoy their experience and are not made uncomfortable by the behaviour of disorderly crowd members.’ While this statement clearly outlines the public order maintenance role of private security staff at the stadium, it does not give a complete picture of the types of functions private control agents perform. For instance, the following extract from the observational data describes the ‘customer service’ role that private security guards at the stadium regularly engaged in:

A man with two little boys approached a private security officer and told him that one of the little boys had lost a flag with the signatures of players from his favourite team on it and was upset about it. The man asked whether the stadium had a lost and found. The private security officer was polite and helpful in instructing the man on who he could speak with to help him find the flag. It’s not the first time I’ve seen security officers assist patrons with this type of requests for information.

The Sydney venue hires a separate hospitality team to undertake customer service roles, to show patrons to their allocated seat, to give directions to various facilities within the venue and to manage any other customer service needs. Hence, on paper crowd controllers are expected to leave customer service to the hospitality team. However, in practice not only are crowd controllers engaged in customer service, but they are actively encouraged to do so by their supervisors where possible as a strategy in building a good rapport with the section of the crowd they may be working. In contrast, in the English context stewards are required and trained to engage in customer service. Thus, some police seem to resent similar request.

The general manager at the Sydney venue also emphasised that, ‘At the end of the day we prefer to have customer service oriented security … and security secondary.’ These findings are in agreement with the conclusions reached by Wakefield (2003) and Button (2003) who both found in their respective case study research that managers of ‘mass private property’ or ‘quasi-public’ space encourage in their private security personnel, both ‘in-house’ and 193 | P a g e

contract, that customer service is one of their major roles. It is understandable that customer service would be an essential function of private security policing areas of ‘mass private property’ such as shopping centres, as one of the core mandates of the private security industry is to protect the commercial interest of their clients, which are dependent on visitors to the sites having a good time and wishing to return. The general manager of the Sydney site showed that private security policing a sporting stadium must also adhere to this:

The thing we need to understand is that the venue is only as good as the people it hires. So that when you come to a game, if you’ve had an unpleasant encounter with let’s say security. You think that maybe security was maybe a little over the top when they checked your bag or when they checked your gear as you came in. That then reflects on our ability, putting us in a bad light as a venue. That then goes further because you might then complain to the (club that uses the venue). So that puts the (club) in bad light. So what you have to be careful of is that you have this level of professionalism all the way through. So that you have a good day coming in, hopefully had a reasonable day while you were here and then the encounter or the experience is a good one. (General Manager AS)

Police officers were also highly aware of the ‘customer service’ role that private security played at the stadium and generally agreed that it was necessary for private security to deal with this function because the police had ‘more serious’ issues to attend to. The following comment is typical of the opinions expressed by police officers in this study:

The security role, they maintain the inner perimeter of the ground whilst the game is going on, the smoking issues, lost children, lost and found property just your normal crowd control. And the policing we obviously attend to the more serious spectator issues which may lead to criminal matters like assault. (NSW user-pays police officer #006).

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Private Security: as Supplementary Policing Resource

In identifying the difference in roles, some New South Wales user-pays officers acknowledged the need to have private security present in the stadium, to ensure safety for spectators. The role of the security guard allows for police to dedicate more time to other matters. As the following comment shows:

Well, there’s not an endless supply of them *private security+, we need them to work football matches and other sporting events, there’s not an endless supply of us either. So, we have to work together, sure they [security] could be better trained and more checks should be done into people wishing to work in the industry.

Observational data suggest that in practice the role of private security officers are to not only deal with ‘non-criminal’ matters but also to intervene in criminal matters that may have escaped police detection, particularly given the low police numbers in Australian venues. An example of an incident that occurred at Aussie Stadium illustrates how public and private security work together. On one occasion, private security guards at the venue picked out a group of underage and unaccompanied drinkers amongst the crowd and were responsible for taking them to the ‘process’ room where a private security officer questioned them and put together a brief report for the stadium records. The security officer then contacted the young person’s legal guardians and monitored the young people until their guardians picked them up. Security notified police of the incident and requested the police presence in the process room to meet the arrival of the legal guardians. Leaving the police free to address other public order concerns.

This section on the public-private relationship has shown that historical and cultural legacy affect the nature of the public-private relationship. For example, in the English context the image of the steward as a ‘volunteer’ or member of the local community affected not only how Merseyside user-pays officers perceived stewards but also determined the level of expectation. Further, though stewards operating within modern stadiums are empowered by property law and ‘officers of the club’ and contractual law, via the terms of condition for

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entry, stewards were reluctant to exercise their powers and were content to seek police assistance. Similarly, police who viewed stewards as non-threatening were willing to assist and to qualify their criticisms of stewards. On the other hand, police perceptions of private security guards engaged in crowd control duties at the Sydney site, showed distrust and disrespect. Private security in contrast was not as critical of user-pays police. Thus, the findings suggest that historical and cultural context influences the nature of football policing at each venue. In the English context, there is a bigger historical impact with Liverpool FC being part of Liverpool since 1888; Sydney FC is an infant in comparison. The club emerged out of the ashes of the National Soccer League (NSL) and since 2005/2006 the club has represented the city of Sydney in the national competition the, Hyundai A-League. Furthermore, the private security company that is contracted to work at the venue are based in Newcastle and most of their guards also live in Newcastle. The ties that exist for English stewards between the club, the community and the venue do not exist in the Australian setting.

Fan’s Experience of Policing

The ‘no standing’ rule is a sensitive topic for Liverpudlians because of the tragic history of standing terraces. Liverpool supporters have experienced firsthand the dangers of standing through Hillsborough. Some supporters interviewed for this study wholeheartedly agreed that it was necessary to have the rule in order to avoid any future incidents like the Hillsborough disaster. Others, like Liverpool FC supporter #003, had a negative reaction to the no standing rule at Premier League matches:

I think the sit down rule is rubbish and completely inappropriate, particularly that they expect you to stand up if the team is attacking, you know, just about to score, but you can’t stand up when there’s hardly anything happening, whereas if you’re standing up—everybody stands up when they’re about to score, but obviously it’s more dangerous to do it then, than when it’s boring. So it doesn’t make any sense to me why you can stand up when it’s dangerous but you have to sit down when it’s boring. I’ve never understood that… and you can stand up at concerts and stuff like that, so I don’t see why we should have that rule.

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It should be noted that Liverpool FC Supporter #003, emphasised that her opinion towards the no standing rule in no way advocated a return to the old style terraces of the 1980s but she did feel strongly that the spectator at football matches is over- regulated in a way that no other crowds at other spectator events in England such as rugby league, cricket or even pop- concerts are. Her comment is indicative of the feelings of football supporters interviewed for this study. They felt they were overly controlled to the extent that a lot of the ‘flavour’ of English football as a spectator sport was lost. They felt that regulation served to stifle atmosphere. Moreover, some spectators reported feelings of frustration with stewards attempting to enforce impractical regulations on spectators such as the no standing rule and the use of indecent language rule. Stewards who addressed these aspects of stadium policy were seen as petty and lacking understanding of English football spectator culture. The following comment by Football Fan #004 illustrates this point:

...the rules about racism I fully approve of, but other abusive language, though, it’s to be expected, it’s part of the leisure activity and people are going to get upset with certain players or with the referee. It’s to be expected, I think. Stewards and police need to be aware of that and not be petty. This one steward that works in my bit is very good and I think the difference is she’s polite and funny. You know if people have a sense of humour, it makes a difference, whereas if someone is all stern face and ordering people around, you tend to think, well I’ve paid a lot of money and to be treated like cattle! I don’t like that at all.

Considering the Spectator Culture in Policing

The challenges inherent in adequately policing abusive language are highlighted in the chants that can be heard around the ground from time to time, though during my observation there were supporters who believed that such chants were not 'The Liverpool way' and willingly reported fellow spectators to police or stewards when they heard them. Additionally, the fan- led Return the Kop campaign took this a step further, aiming to re-educate a new generation of Kop and by extension Anfield regulars to sing more traditional lyrics such as "We are Liverpool", "Liverpool We Love You" and "Red and White Kop". Chants and songs are an intricate part of English football and expressions of fandom, so regulating them is a delicate

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issue when customer satisfaction is at stake. But by and large racist chanting has been addressed through a zero tolerance policy from clubs. The usages of terms such as ‘fuck’, ‘shit’ and ‘cunt’ that commonly appear in chants are less enforceable. A Merseyside police officer explained the challenge:

When it's a single lad acting up, you can approach them and ask them to watch their language as there are children around, but then there are cases when you hear these chants going around, that use inappropriate language for what should be a family event, but your hands are tied. What can you do? Eject the lot of them? I suppose if you find the mouthpiece it’s a way to go, but then you risk having them all turn on you and creating more trouble for yourself. Some of these people have a high tolerance for such language and you just got to go deaf except when it is between individuals then you have to act. (Merseyside user pays police officer #012)

The officer's claims that some abusive language is seen as acceptable within the practice of English football spectatorship was shared by some spectators who reported that it is to be expected and that to be too stringent on the modes of expression in chants and in moments of extreme excitement or tension would detract from the purpose of the chants and songs, which, as one supporter explained, is for fans to participate actively in influencing the game:

Usually, singing songs to try to put them [opposition] off, trying to put them down... I suppose in football there is this feeling that you can influence what is going on on the pitch by getting behind the team or trying to put off the other lot from getting behind their team, so trying to shut the other lot of supporters up! There’s a kind of competition, rivalry, passion, and it’s quite stronger than it is in less passionate sports. (Liverpool FC Supporter #011).

Songs and chants are used in a similar way by spectators in Sydney whose lyrics are heavily influenced by what English and other more established spectator cultures have developed. For instance, when an opposition player was taking a penalty, chants of "You're Shit! You're Shit! You’re Shit!’ or ‘You couldn't score in a brothel! You couldn't score in a brothel! You couldn't score in a brothel!’ are heard coming from the Cove.

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Security personnel and police officers who worked at the Sydney Stadium told me in interviews that a flexible approach to the policing of spectator behaviour within the Cove is a policy adopted in consultation with the Club and Cove representatives. Sydney FC supporter #003, one of the very early members of the Cove, explained, ‘I mean, I will point out that there is very much the official rules and then there’s our rules.’ For example, flags and flag poles over a meter and a half in length, megaphones, swearing or abusive words and standing during play are all banned within the Aussie Stadium. However, these elements are clearly permissible within the Cove, and are part of the wider football culture. Sydney FC supporter #005 explained that through extensive communication between stadium security, club officials and Cove representatives, an agreement was made, which turned the Cove into an environment where certain behaviours banned by stadium rules were actually permissible within the exclusive confines of bays that make up the Cove:

My understanding is that at Aussie Stadium, you’re not allowed to stand, you’ve got to sit. That’s why the seats are there. My understanding is that the Cove has an ad hoc sort of agreement with stadium security to turn a blind eye, well, not turn a blind eye, because you can’t miss it… but to permit it, in that area and in that whole end. (Sydney FC supporter #005)

This finding is consistent with those of Warren (1998) who found that in determining the appropriateness of policing tactics and approaches to order maintenance by both police and private security, stadium management should consider the spectator culture of the sport. To illustrate this, Warren (1998) describes the nature of policing at AFL matches at the MCG (Melbourne Cricket Ground):

There are however, times when police turn a blind eye to behaviours which have criminal or summary law implications or which might cause offence, yet are deemed acceptable within AFL culture. Racist taunting by spectators, or formally processing athletes engaging in actionable assaults during the course of play, are two pertinent examples of behaviour which remains largely unpoliced given their cultural prominence in AFL spectator and player culture (Warren, 1998: 115).

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As a collective, members of the Cove feel empowered because it is permissible to create the atmosphere typical of football crowds around the globe. The stadium allowing them to bring in big flags, drums, megaphones and stand, shout, and sing their songs as well as their famous ‘beer showers’, with no interference from police or security has meant that fans have a positive perception of security. As one fan commented, ‘We really can’t say enough for security, they’ve been very good’ (Sydney FC supporter #003). Fans find that security management acknowledges that the Cove is a showcase of football culture and as such are willing to assist fans in creating their own ‘home end’ through a policy of limited intervention from both private and public control agencies. Sydney FC and Aussie Stadium must also be aware of the commercial value that these supporters generate; they provide the atmosphere and encourage more passive spectators to actively become engaged in supporting football, thus enhancing their experience of the visit to Aussie stadium.

In the opinion of several Cove members, the minimal intervention strategy adopted by control agents at Aussie Stadium was a very effective form of order maintenance and drastically different from the policing of NSL matches, where over-policing and stereotyping was the norm:

Whenever you see a copper at any sporting game, it sticks in your mind. I think I have, I’m pretty sure I have. But it hasn’t stuck in my mind, which I think says something – a lot, they’ve been seen but not heard, umm but yeah, they haven’t been in people’s faces. They haven’t been interfering. They haven’t been, you know, on power trips, so if they’ve been there, they’ve been seen but not heard of, which is what you want I suppose…because when authority figures are around, it stifles the fun, you don’t want to have fun and it’s good and bad. It stops you from doing like stupid dick-headish things, but it also stops people from, you know, just enjoying themselves because they’re going to be nervous. You’re intrinsically going to be nervous when a copper is around or someone like that, but when they have been in the Cove, I haven’t felt threatened or at all intimidated or at all scared to stop doing what I’m doing, chanting, screaming, singing, you know. I suppose I’m breaking the law by jumping on my own chair now and then sort of stomping around and I suppose at any other sport a cop will tell you *to+ ‘sit your ass down ‘but in the Cove you don’t feel at all intimidated or threatened, which is just perfect. (Sydney FC supporter #011) 200 | P a g e

My observations of a Sydney FC home game during the 2005/2006 Hyundai A-League season show the distinct nature of the Cove and the difference between how spectators within the Cove were policed as compared with those in other areas of the stadium:

A young male was sitting in the Cove during the first half. He was not wearing Sydney FC colours, but was standing on his chair jumping and dancing around, in what I found to be a very hilarious manner. His dancing was the main reason I noticed him. I watched him wondering whether security or police might approach him, but for the whole 45 minutes, his behaviour did not draw the attention of control agents. During the break, I heard him say he was going to go over to the other end so if Sydney scored he could get a good view. The opposition’s end is relatively open as less people choose to watch the game from there. Minutes into half time, I could see him doing the exact same thing he had been doing in the Cove but at the opposition’s end. It was not long before security approached him and spoke to him. The young man appeared to become agitated with the security guard and gestured towards the Cove. More guards were then attracted to the young man and police went up to him and removed him. This clearly illustrates that spectators within the Cove experience a very different type of policing to those in other locations within the venue. (Field notes, Aussie Stadium, 03/02/2006).

Self-Policing: Seeing Beyond the Pitch

It is a passion and desire to be involved in changing the image of football and drawing people to the game that has resulted in regular communications between fans, security and club officials. Communications have led to a positive relationship. Fans have approached club officials and stated their aim and objectives for the supporter’s end, nicknamed the Cove, and in turn, Sydney FC has facilitated a relationship between stadium management and security. This approach of open communication adopted by Cove representatives has led to criticisms from other supporter groups around the country. Sydney FC supporter #010, considered by other Cove members to be well educated in football history and culture, explained this:

The Cove itself, like the structure of it, we have an extremely good relationship with security and the SCG Trust who we rent the ground [from]. We have an extremely good relationship with the actual club itself and we have a good relationship with the media as well. But the relationship we have with the media, the club, and the ground doesn’t sit well with other fan groups in the country. They see it as us being in the pocket of whoever we happen to be getting along well with, because it’s not a traditional 201 | P a g e

football thing to have a really good relationship with the club or whatever. We are very fortunate enough to have a club that wants us to go out there and do what we do. And we’ll take full advantage of it, we’ve got no qualms about that. If the club is going to help us be loud and vocal and create the best home end atmosphere in the country, we’re going to accept that help. We’re not going to turn it away just because it’s from the club and we’re the ‘hard core ultra fans’, inverted commas, because that’s an unseemly thing for a group such as us to do… So, we don’t want to go down certain paths, because that will reflect badly on us. It will reflect badly on the club and the sport, there’s enough of it with the NSL, and however many years of bad media image, to not want to go down that path.

Moreover, fans are conscious that the behaviour of football crowds around Australia is under the watchful eye of not just security and police within the stadium, but also the media. The desire to prevent any negative media reports serves as a self-regulating agent. The following comments illustrate how a wider concern for the growth of football, has led to an unofficial self-policing system within the confines of the Cove:

Well, apart from the security guards down the front, I suppose they’re the ‘official’ and of course they are the stadium ushers. They are the ‘official regulators’, I suppose, as far as they are concerned. But really there is a very sort of internal sense of policing and justice. At the Grand Final, there were flares thrown and I don’t know the facts of it, but from what I’ve read and heard, members up in the Cove hierarchy found out who it was, told that person they were not welcomed in the Cove again. They laid down the law to that person and are making it impossible for that person to get a Cove membership next year and that’s an example of how the Cove polices itself. Cause we all, we all know what’s at stake here, we all know that everyone is watching our every move, as soccer in Australia we can’t afford to fail, so there is a very strong sense of policing and order. So, we pretty much look after ourselves, but the stadium security is there just in case things get too crazy, I suppose. (Sydney FC supporter #007)

Findings in this study complement findings by Lock (2009) who argued that Sydney FC fans reveal a real desire to see the A-League and football generally as one of the top spectator sports in Australia. This desire influences how they behave within the stadium. There is an awareness of the negative links between football and spectator violence and the fans that make up the Cove as the supporter’s end at Aussie Stadium take it upon themselves to build atmosphere and to showcase the best of the ‘world game’. The following comment illustrates this common goal:

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I think there is something passionate about football fans as well, especially ‘cause like, in Australia we’ve waited so long for something like this, like the A- League. I mean, there have been other forms, but everyone really wants this to do well. So it’s something that, you know, that actually like kinda amplifies it because everyone really wants to get behind it and make it successful and make everyone else open their eyes to what a great game it is, you know, it’s been stereotyped too much in this country. (Sydney FC Supporter #008)

Similarly, every Australian football fan interviewed for this study had expressed a genuine love for football as a global game and a desire for the sport to become part of mainstream Australia. Consequently, the success of the game is dependent on the support of the ‘die hard’ or ‘hardcore’ fans to present the passion and beauty of football through song, colour, and dedication. One fan explained that the atmosphere within a sporting venue is what will draw large crowds to football. When asked what exactly the ‘atmosphere’ was, she said; ‘We are!’ (Sydney FC supporter, #004). The following statement illustrates the dedication and responsibility that Cove members have undertaken to increase the popularity of football in Australia:

Well, as you will probably guess, I am very, very passionate about fan movements umm organised not, not just like, football I guess is the only one, only code that has a true culture of organised fan involvement, not just rocking up at a game and watching it. I like to be there for the atmosphere. I don’t just like to be there for the atmosphere, I like to create the atmosphere…I’m the kind of person in a way where I’ll go to a game and I’ll have my back turned to the game half the time. Depending on how the singing and everything is going, I often will sit on the front fence with a megaphone, with my back turned to the ground, and so, I watch glimpses on the big screen, but I’m not actually watching the game and it’s not because I don’t like football. I’ll go home and I’ll watch the replay. It’s just because I feel I have a role to play there in the stadium, to create atmosphere and in a way it’s more important to me than watching the game myself. (Sydney FC supporter #007)

As the interview and observational data has shown, football fans desired to be active participants in the advancement of football as a spectator sport, by contributing to an improved image of football away from hooliganism and crowd disorder. This desire positioned football supporters as active participants in the co-production of order and not just as the

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targets of policing and order maintenance strategies. Consequently, the empirical evidence shows that the football spectator was not just a passive recipient of policing and order maintenance. Instead the football supporter was an active agent in the co-production of order through self-policing of both formal and informal norms and standards. However, this self- policing was not limited simply to a re-enforcement of formally established laws and regulations by football authorities or venue managers. The role of the football spectator within the security system involved a degree of negotiation, spectators were willing to work with other agents in the security network such a police managers and security supervisors and Chief Stewards to negotiate the extent of regulation over leisure practices. For example, large flags which were not permissible under the conditions of entry at Aussie Stadium could be used within the Cove because Cove supporters had negotiated their use with security supervisors at the venue. Security supervisors even offered storage space to facilitate use.

However, in both locations there were instances where formal agreements could not be reached, these included where the prohibited action was not just a local (venue specific) set of rules of order, but rather they were laws and procedures that had been determined by national and local governments. For example, the ‘no standing rule’ and no ‘offensive language’ rule. In these instances stadium managers, security, stewards and police would experience collective resistance from football supporters (e.g. supporters seating within the Cove and the Kop stand throughout the football match). While no formal agreement was in place to allow this, there was no practical alternative but to accept it because to challenge it would result in greater disorder. However, to ensure compliance with national regulations stadium management implemented the use of public announcement system within the venues to remind supporters of the ‘no standing rule’. This was done with no realistic expectation that supporters would comply.

Conceptual models of the security networks and models of partnerships that exist as a result of plural policing (Crawford, 2006 and Sarre and Prenzler 2009) on those agents exercising policing and little consideration is given to the possibility that the subjects of policing may in 204 | P a g e

fact be active members of the security network and therefore be key contributors to the production of order. This thesis proposes that football supporters within the stadium but also football supporter organisations that have emerged to protect the rights of supporters in the face of what football supporters perceive as the excessive regulation and criminalisation of their leisure practices both form part of the security network of football policing.

‘One Team, One City’

One of the major issues with the NSL was that it did not appeal to a broad range of people. As the fans interviewed in this study had expressed, the ethnic affiliations of football clubs with south-eastern European immigrant communities such as the Croatian, Macedonian and Greek communities, alienated those fans of football who were not members of these communities. Hence, the decision to restructure the competition so that each major city has just one team has drawn support from diverse communities. The result has been that football spectator culture in Australia is borrowing from older football nations such as Britain and Italy. As one fan said, ‘…it’s like Australia. Australia is this big melting pot of cultures. We’ve basically just grabbed the best bit of everything else and see if it works.’ (Sydney FC supporter #004) Consequently, the demographic composition of the Cove is totally unlike the old NSL crowds, which were highly fragmented into specific ethnic communities. For example, Croatians supported Sydney United and the Italian community supported Marconi Fairfield. Sydney FC supporter #002’s comments illustrate how fans perceive the demographic composition of the Cove:

It’s a different mix. Like, I think the great thing about the Cove is that, you know, it’s not just like expat Poms or Aussies. It’s like people from all sorts of different races and religions and we’re all just standing together just as this one big huge metaphysical entity just to get behind the team. Yeah, yeah so it’s just this huge blend of culture…yeah you know. I think another great thing is that, we’ve got the, the Poms who are, you know, more used to the vocal sort of background and then you’ve got the fans from continental Europe and South America who believe in colour, like banners and flags, and it’s just gone together so well…

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Similarly, control agents have noticed a marked difference in the composition of crowds at football matches which, in the words of one security officer, the changes in crowd composition and numbers ‘…have made for a bigger, happier event and it’s more enjoyable to work it.’ (NSW private security, #006). Comments made by a private security supervisor with five years experience in providing contract staff to entertainment and sporting venues in Australia demonstrates the difference in the composition of crowds at domestic football matches in Australia:

...as far as Sydney FC go, you know, we’ve had nothing. We’ve had nothing but positive actually and that’s been really good, because there is a very wide cultural background that comes to the Sydney FC matches, like we’ve got a lot of Aussies in there and they got Dwight York out, so we had a few people from the Caribbean, you know the Islanders coming and they mixed in. Then they got this Japanese guy out for four weeks or whatever, and like the stadium just, I dunno if it was wise marketing or whatever, but whatever it was it filled the stadium. You get a lot of Asian people coming now and as soon as the Japanese player went back to Asia, they still kept coming. So you’ve got a huge spectrum of cultures there and it’s all been positive.

In contrast, my observations showed that the crowd composition was predominantly composed of young males of Anglo-Saxon background. While other ethnic and cultural groups were represented as part of the crowd, these were the minority and their attendance or commitment to football could be described as ‘fickle’, supporters who are ‘casual’ in their commitment to Sydney FC, attending matches now and then. The core supporter group, however, is not as culturally and ethnically diverse as the above quote makes it out to be. They were as has been described in chapter 5, predominantly Caucasian and culturally homogenous.

Diversity by and large enhances the spectator experience at football matches. However, it does present some organisational concerns in terms of adapting the most suitable blend of football spectator elements from overseas to an Australian football spectator culture. One of the original organisers of the Cove (Sydney FC supporter, #009) explained the effects of diversity: ‘…in its own way *diversity] brings its own problems. Like, you’ve got people that are

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very much in a more traditional English- British, pure singing style and you’ve got people that want, you know, South American drumming kinda thing which creates its own conflict.’ These issues are resolved with the implementation of a majority preferred voting policy. This practice however, is informal and more often than not takes place through the discussion forums of ‘Sydney FC Un-Official’ (also known as the Cove forums).

Public and private policing agents in the Australian case study have to adjust to the distinct nature of football spectator culture in order to adequately address the policing needs of both the hirers and the spectators attending Sydney FC matches. A failure to recognise the complexity and the transformation that football spectatorship has undergone in the Australian context would lead to a failure to adequately relate to spectators and result in strained relationships.

Conclusion

The purpose of this chapter has been twofold. Firstly, the chapter has been concerned with exploring the nature of the relationship between the public police and private policing agents in the policing of football. Secondly, the chapter has bought into the discussion the fans’ experiences and perceptions of how football matches are policed, while also exploring the nature of spectator interactions with public and private policing agents and highlighting the role of the football supporter as one of the agents actively involved in the security network.

Findings show that the public-private relationship In Liverpool was significantly affected by historical legacy. Merseyside police saw the stewards as ‘volunteers’ and not as private security. From interviews it was clear that Merseyside police disliked private security officers whom they encountered while policing the night-time- economy. These ‘doormen’ were seen as ‘dangerous’ and ‘incompetent’ in people management. In contrast, the Liverpool stewards were repositioned in the police perception as communal not commercial. Historically,

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stewards in England have been members of the local communities who are engaged in other fields of work, but who steward football matches as a means of supporting the Club (Frosdick and Sidney, 1996, Wright, 2007). This was the case with Liverpool stewards who reported making a contribution towards their local club as a primary motivator for working football matches. Further, stewards interviewed for this study reported being engaged in other roles away from football, such as teaching, nursing and postal work. Hence, Merseyside police were quick to qualify any criticisms of stewards, with claims that the stewards were, ‘volunteers’ and therefore the police had low expectations of the Liverpool in-house stewarding team. This is a distinct feature of the public-private relationship in Liverpool. Increasingly, clubs are turning to contract stewarding providers to police their matches. This is possible given the increasing professionalisation of stewarding in the UK, a professionalisation that is driven by commercialisation as well as by legislated changes with regards to safety at sports grounds.

Additionally, some of the Safety officers and Chief Stewards in Liverpool were ex-police officers. This facilitated the development of the relationship between stewards and public police. The major issue was over who was controlling the governance of football grounds. Police officers interviewed in the study questioned whether relations between the police and the clubs were too close, so close that perhaps the clubs were controlling the police and telling them how to police football, especially in terms of the costs of policing football. A couple of officers interviewed for this study thought that football policing should not be separate from other event policing in the city. This issue, of closeness between the police and the club, or stadium management, was not raised in the Sydney context. However, this is largely because there is no historical legacy to facilitate that type of relationship.

The nature of the relationship between Merseyside police and Liverpool stewards can be described as a ‘combined forces’ model (Sarre and Prenzler, 2000) which is also evidence of Crawford’s (2006) ‘networked or nodal’ model which is described as a model that allows for the formation of ‘horizontal’ partnerships and is characterised by some degree of coordination between the police and other forms of policing. This is true of the relationships in

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Liverpool, where police are present at match debriefings and training exercises are jointly organised by the football club and the police and broader components of the security network (e.g. football supporters, and other emergency services personnel) are invited to participate (e.g. Exercise Griffith, described earlier). Additionally, the historical legacy of the football steward as a civilian or communal source of policing (in spite of the fact that modern stewarding is technically a form of private security work), and the practice of ex-police moving into the stewarding of football clubs facilitated the creation of nodal governance of football. These factors allowed for continuity and increased communication.

Findings also showed that Crawford’s (2006) private government model, in which the police relinquish authority but are still able to enter the scene when ‘called upon’, can be used to account for changes in the organisation of plural policing in UK football. Increasingly football clubs are using increased numbers of stewards or private security guards to undertake the crowd control duties within stadiums. This tactic amounts to less police presence (limited to legislated requirements) and therefore lowered costs for the policing of the football match, as has been shown private is cheaper than public. Interview with police officers in Merseyside revealed some evidence for police being content to withdraw from the policing of football to allow stewards to take an increased role and limiting the police presence within the venue. However, some concern was raised about developing a strategy that would facilitate the police immediate entry to the venue in case of an emergency.

In the Sydney case police expressed a lack of respect and a suspicion of private security generally. Their perceptions were informed by encounters with private security in the night- time-economy. Police in Sydney, saw crowd controllers in a similar light though some officers did try to differentiate between private security in general and crowd controllers. New South Wales police officers viewed their private counterparts as ‘wannabe cops’, primitive in the sense that they were less articulate, less intelligent and less skilled than a police officer. They felt that the contract nature of most security work led to a lack of accountability in the industry. Police officers expressed an understanding that security work was not a permanent

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occupation for most people in the industry and as such the skills of private security were not as developed as a police officer. The transient nature of the industry was a particular concern in the context of event policing where consistency of staff proves to have a significant impact on crowd controllers’ success at order maintenance (Warren, 1998, Frosdick and Sidney, 1996).

In spite of expressed suspicion and disrespect towards contract private security, police officers and private security in Sydney were in practice able to work well together. This was the case largely because the functions of police and security were Complementary; there was an acknowledgement that the police did not have the resources to dedicate to events policing and private security was an available resource. Data gathered through observation and from interviews with Sydney FC supporters revealed no serious issues, the public police and security were able to present, by and large, a unified front. Thus, the public-private relationship in Sydney can best be classified as a combination of the ‘ad hoc’ partnership model and the supplementary model, identified by Sarre and Prenzler (2000) and Crawford’s ‘steering’ model. There is a practical co-operative interaction that occurs, but only for the limited period of the football match and the partnership is perceived largely as a response to the scarce resources of the police. Moreover, the private-public partnership is maintained by limited communications between stadium security and police. Most operational police do not have regular contact with crowd controllers outside of the matches they jointly police. The relationship however was affected by NSW Police being responsible for the licensing of private security officers in the state. Crawford (2006) argues that this is evidence of the ‘steering’ role that the public police play in trying to govern a distance and because the police are in charge of accreditation there’s a tendency to perceive the private security agents as a ‘junior partner’.

The second concern of this chapter has been with the experiences and perceptions of football supporters. Both Liverpool FC and Sydney FC supporters reported a more positive view of police than they did about stewards and security. While Sarre and Prenzler’s (2000) models and Crawford’s (2006) models both provide some assistance in understanding the relationship

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between public and private policing agents in the context of football, both sets of models provide little assistance with understanding the role and position of the football supporters within the plural policing landscape. Nevertheless, findings showed that minimal intervention from both public and private policing agents was identified by football supporters at both sites as a welcomed strategy. Police were identified as being more flexible and using discretion in the performance of their duty, while stewards and private security were, seen as ‘over- zealous’ at times.

Liverpool FC supporters reported a concern with over-regulation of their cultural practices and police officers acknowledged that there were many behaviours occurring within the stadium that were technically breaches of legislation and policy (e.g. the use of offensive language in chants and standing during play). However, the practices were so widespread amongst the crowd that to intervene, by enforcing the letter of the law, would create problems. These forms of cultural practices could be seen as ‘ritualised aggression’ (Marsh et al., 1978) and posing minimal risks. Sydney supporters also reported an appreciation of the low visibility policing during matches. Additionally, Sydney FC supporters reported a good working relationship with the stadiums security and management team. Supporters in the Sydney context were in the process of forming a spectator culture. The distinct manner in which the ‘home end’ was policed, and the contribution that spectators were able to make through the practice of self- policing were positive aspects in the relationship between fans and the club/ and or stadium.

As previously stated, the current theoretical models of plural policing networks do not provide much assistance with understanding the role of the football supporter as a contributor to the policing of football, as exercising both self-regulation and resistance to perceived excessive regulation. Thus this absence requires a re-conceptualisation of the plural policing models implemented in the policing of football. A re-conceptualisation that moves beyond the public/private dichotomy is presented here. Findings from both locations have shown that there are two contrasting models of plural policing in operation, the commercially centred

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model operates in Sydney and the community centred model in Liverpool. Within the commercially centred model the private security/police ratio was 2:1 and the crowd controllers were subcontracted from a Newcastle based private security firm that specialised in events, including providing club bouncers to hotels and pubs and the stadium within this ‘security system’ is multi-purpose venue not unknown but hired by the club. The relationship between the policing agents was characterised by temporary arrangements and minimal post- event communications. The football supporters were treated not just as customers or consumers of football and as subjects of control but also incorporated as part of the security network. Supporters actively engaged in the co-production of order through formal and informal arrangements.

In contrast, the community centred model practised in Liverpool had a steward/police ratio of 10:1 the stewards were local members of the community and some Safety Officers and high ranking stewards (especially those in supervisory and training roles) were ex-police officers. This was distinct from the Sydney model where no such connection existed between the public/private agents. Additionally, under the community centred model, the Stadium owned by the football club and is a significant part of the local community and characterised by high levels of ‘topophilia.’ There is greater continuity both in the crowd composition (as a result of high levels of season ticket holders) and in terms of the agents that police the crowd. Similarly, to the commercially centred model in Sydney the communal model of plural policing in Liverpool allow for the football supporter as an agent of both policing and resistance.

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CHAPTER EIGHT: CONCLUSION

Introduction

The aim of this thesis has been to explore plural policing networks in practice in the context of football matches. The study concluded that plural policing networks though increasingly common differ across locations. Differences in the plural policing network are determined by cultural, historical, and spatial factors. Thus while the two locations shared very similar layers of governance that included: the laws and procedures established by governments, the local rules of order determined by stadium managers through conditions of entry, the practical definitions of order affected by how operational control agents used the legal tools available to them and the informal rules created and enforced by football supporters.

Using a case study approach, this thesis addressed the following research questions:

 What is the nature of public order policing at football matches? How does it vary by cultural and historical context?

 What types of relationships exist between public police and private security in the policing of football matches?

 What are fans’ experiences and perceptions of how football matches are policed and what is the nature of their interactions with public police and private security?

It is generally accepted that plural policing networks are part of the contemporary policing landscape. Public police are increasingly engaging in partnership policing through formal or informal arrangements (e.g. partnerships with private security, community wardens, fraud investigators and retail owners). Examples of empirical research concerned with plural policing

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systems are predominantly UK focused (Crawford and Lister, 2004; Johnston, 2000: Button, 2008). Further, very little is known about the nature of plural policing systems. This thesis has been an attempt to contribute to this limited body of knowledge by exploring the plural policing system of two sporting venues. Football stadiums were chosen as the site for this exploration of plural policing in practice because they embody a high degree of ‘place attachment’ that is distinct from other sites such as shopping malls. Bale (1993) refers to ‘topophilia’ (a love of space) when describing the unique sense of ‘home’ that football spectators attribute to the local stadium. Other writers describe the stadium as a temple (Morris 1981) or an ‘institutional place’ (Costa, 1987) forming a significant part of a community, not unlike a local church in a small rural village. Stadiums are seen as ‘carriers of memory significant symbolic connotations’ (Bale1994). This particular relationship between the football spectator and the location provided an opportunity to explore not only the public/private dichotomy as forming the ‘security network’ but also to examine the role of the spectator in the co-production of order.

A two case study comparative design was selected. The pluralisation of policing is often discussed as a ‘global shift’ and attempts to conceptualise the ’security networks’ that have emerged as a result of pluralisation, have so far been limited to the public/private dichotomy (Sarre and Prenzler, 2000) or to specific spheres of security (see Crawford, 2006 for commentary on security models for community safety policing). The comparative design allowed for an exploration of the conceptual and practical similarities and differences presented by these two sets of models. The findings showed that though these sets of models have been developed in specific contexts there is a significant degree of overlap between the two sets. The comparative design allowed for further development of these models and provided a sound basis for the identification of two contrasting ‘models’ of plural policing: The ‘commercial model’ (more evident in Sydney) and the ‘communal model’ (more evident in Liverpool).

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Anfield Stadium was chosen as the English site and Aussie Stadium as the Australian site. Participant observation (with three of the five groups) and informal as well as semi-structured interviews with each of the five groups engaged at the different levels of governance were undertaken to provide insights into the practical nature of ‘security networks’ in this field. Data for the study were gathered in Sydney during the inaugural Hyundai A-League season in 2005/2006 and in Liverpool during the 2007/2008 season.

The Same, Yet Different: The Role of History and Culture in Football Policing

Data presented in this thesis has shown that in both locations the policing of football is organised into security networks as opposed to policing monopolies. These networks share the same levels of governance across both sites. However history and culture play a significant role in affecting the practical aspects of these networks. For example, history and culture affect the scale of operation and the public-private mix in policing. These important components determine whether a network is categorised as ‘communal’ or ‘commercial’.

Scale of Operation

Football as a spectator sport has had a very different development in each country. Professional football in England has had a long history and is by far the most popular of the spectator sports, with average Premier League crowds of 40,000. Redevelopment of old stadiums and the building of new ones mean that football crowds are only likely to get larger. For instance, once Liverpool FC finalises the proposed new stadium in Stanley Park, the venue will host up to 55,000 spectators (Liverpool FC, 2009). Football operations in England therefore involve the mobilisation of a high level of policing and stewarding resources. As this study has found, to host a match Liverpool FC employs 480-500 stewards and approximately 50-60 police officers inside the stadium on a user pays basis. In addition, Merseyside Police mobilise an additional 40 or so police officers to patrol the city centre, public houses and roads adjacent to the stadium. Mounted police are also used to assist in crowd management. In 215 | P a g e

contrast, football in Australia has not gained the same degree of popularity. Prior to the introduction of the Hyundai A-League in Sydney in [2005/2006], attendances averaged only 5, 200 in the NSL; attendances at the new matches now average 15,363 (Hyundai A-League 2007/2008). Even so, football operations at Aussie Stadium do not demand anywhere near the amounts of public and private resources as English matches: it employs an average of 20-30 police officers on user pays duty and 50-60 private security guards for public order maintenance during matches.

Public-Private Mix in Policing

Public police in both Australia and England have historically been heavily involved in the policing of football matches. However, with police organisations in both countries adopting new public management practices such as cost recovery, football clubs and venue managers have sought to cut the cost of policing by reducing the number of police officers hired to police football matches and hiring a greater number of stewards or private security guards. A public-private mix in football policing is therefore an inevitable outcome of this development. However, the ratio of private to public police (10:1 in Liverpool, around 2:1 in Sydney) and the ratio of private policing agents to spectators (1:80 in Liverpool, 1:300 in Sydney) suggest that the stewards have a much greater presence in Liverpool than private security in Sydney. This disparity can also be explained by the different historical and cultural developments of football policing in the two countries.

The use of stewards who are local community members is an historical feature of English policing (Wright, 2007: Frosdick and Sidney, 1996). In England a series of stadium disasters highlighted the need for not only greater steward numbers but also for better trained and more professional football stewarding (Taylor, 1991). This has resulted in national training courses for stewards. Although the modern steward is far better trained than in the past, there are still calls to improve stewarding standards, as changes in property relations have

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given stewards—as representatives of owners and hirers of stadiums—a greater range of powers to regulate behaviour within the venue.

Most football clubs train their stewards in-house as is the case with Liverpool FC. However, several football clubs such as Manchester United outsource their stewarding. The distinction between in-house and outsourced stewarding will impact upon the quality of the public- private relationship as well as affecting the spectator experience.

The use of local community members as stewards that engage in crowd control duties for minimal wages is evidence of the ‘communal’ security network operating in Liverpool. In its history Liverpool FC drew its supporter base from working class males whose support of the clubs made football a central component of working class leisure practice. As football became increasingly professionalised, the middle class was also drawn to the spectatorship of football. However, because football was first popular amongst the working class, football clubs have built their stadiums in working class neighbourhood and even draw their names from these communities. For example, Liverpool FC’s home ground Anfield – is named after the community by the same name in Liverpool. Thus much of the support for a club like Liverpool FC originated from local support. With international success the club now boasts a national and even international supporter base. In contrast neighbouring Everton FC was often referred to as the ‘truly local’ club.

In contrast in Australia private security officers are employed by for-profit organisations. The cost of hiring private security may explain the much lower security to spectator ratio at the Aussie Stadium (1:300). The fact that they were commercially contracted was a significant factor affecting the public-private policing relationship. Unlike stewards who have local knowledge and are members of the community, contracted private security officers often lack continuity and sometimes fail to recognise local idiosyncrasies, hence resulting in improper actions that generated distrust and antagonism between police and security.

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In spite of concerns over stewarding standards, the trend in England is towards police-free stadiums (no police within the ground). The number of police officers in stadiums has been progressively reducing: on average police numbers have dropped three-fold since the 1980s. This is occurring as stewards and private security firms take up greater responsibility over crowd management and football matches become relatively safer in comparison to the past. Home Office (2009/2010) figures show that 72% of Premier League matches see a maximum of one arrest and there is an average of only 1.2 arrests per game. With this in mind, clubs in the Premier League in England question the need for the presence of police within stadiums. Some Premier League clubs now stage police-free matches. The reason for this is two-fold. Firstly, the cost for one police officer is much more than for one steward. Secondly, police departments are determined to change the status quo and provide services at commercial events such as football matches at full-costs. The Association of Chief Police Officers (ACPO), in its 2008 submission to the Home Office Green Paper on the future of policing, called for the introduction of full-cost policing. This would extend the definition of special police services beyond the stadium where the event is held and include consequential policing, that is policing which is provided beyond the event itself, at train stations or town centres to deal with crowds arriving at and leaving a football match.

If clubs successfully argue that police are not an essential resource within the stadium, stewards would be the primary body responsible for enforcing the regulations that govern the stadium, while the police would focus their efforts and resources on the outer or public spaces including the city centre, train stations and local public houses. The change would drastically alter the nature of football policing.

Therefore, the scale of the operation and policing-mix employed at each location has underlying historical and cultural currents that make the Liverpool model a ‘communal’ security model and Sydney a ‘commercial’ security model. However, as data gathered for this

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thesis has shown, the ‘communal’ model is under constant threat by more commercial ideologies.

The Rule of Law and Local Rules of Order

As has been discussed in Chapter 6, an examination of the laws and regulations governing the policing of football within a country are central in any consideration of territoriality as ‘these clusters of legal regulations significantly condition the territorial actions police officers [and security] regularly undertake to enforce public order’ (Herbert, 1997: 38). By defining the rules and actions permissible within certain spaces, laws and regulations constitute a ‘normative order’ regarding the use of stadium space. Laws and regulations do not only govern behaviour within spatial boundaries but they also help create the very policing networks that exist today. Thus, laws created by local and national governments and local rules of order determined by stadium managers both result in the employment of a wide range of spatial and territorial strategies to maintain order during matches (see chapter 6 for detailed explanations of the laws and regulations in each location).

The expansion of NPM ideals has resulted in the application of user-pays principles to football policing. This form of ‘cost recovery’ by public police forces has increased the number of private crowd controllers (private security or stewards) within football grounds as clubs and ever organises opt for cheaper forms of security. In spite of this shift towards private forms of policing, the public police are still able of maintain a share in the policing of football through legislation that authorises the police to conduct risk assessments to determine appropriate policing levels. For example in the UK under regulations outlined in the Safety Certificate, the police are to determine the number of police that should be present at any given match following an intelligence based risk assessment. While clubs are able to attempt to renegotiate this with the local police, failure to provide the required number of officers can mean that a club may not be given the go ahead to run the event. Thus, legislation is used as a means of ordering football into a plural policing network that perhaps would not exist given 219 | P a g e

the increasing experimentation with ‘police free’ events, eliminating the need for police within the ground.

Additionally, the laws and regulations governing the policing of football provide police and private agents with a wide range of powers to control the movement of football supporters in order to maintain public order. The blurred boundaries that exist in the practice of plural policing at football matches highlight the complexity of the relationships. The football venue is a space in which private agents as representatives of the space managers or owners are given significant powers to control and govern that space within the confines of the by-laws governing behaviour. Thus, security and stewards do hold the legal authority to engage in actions that are more like ‘real police work’ in that they can warn, detain, question and remove people from the venue if necessary. However, these agents do not hold the power to charge individuals with criminal offences.

However, the police and football spectators at both venues ignored the very real authority that private security and stewards hold within the context of the football venue and were happy to perceive them as being largely inadequate and inactive. Conversations with private security and stewards at both venues revealed that private agents were less likely to exercise the full range of their powers within the venue because they were well aware of the negative image of the private security industry. Private security and stewards in particular expressed concerns over civil liability claims and were constantly mindful of the crowd watching their every move. These concerns often deterred private security guards and stewards from taking initiative in interventions and also resulted in private agents looking to police for cover when it came to arrests and ejections. Private agents were concerned with protecting their own image. This overdependence frustrated police officers on the frontline who failed to understand why private agents were not taking a higher degree of initiative.

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The various policing strategies adopted at each location will now be discussed with consideration given to the interactional and spatial dimensions of football policing through security networks.

Policing Strategies: The Interactional and Spatial Dimensions

Territoriality, as explained in Chapter 3, can be conceived as the attempt by one group to control another ‘by delimiting and asserting control over a geographic area’ (Sack 1986:19). This is done through classification, boundary setting and enforcement of access. The policing strategies employed include the design of stadiums, segregation, the use of surveillance and high visibility patrols, the regulation of alcohol consumption within the venue, control over entry visas and passports, and exclusion of spectators through banning orders. These strategies for exercising territoriality inevitable affect interaction and the quality of the relationship between policing agents and the public. Where football spectators perceive the policing agents encroachment over their leisure experience, spectators will resist and engage in various forms of contestation over space, including: standing in non-standing areas, the employment of ‘thirdspace’ which can include the inclusion of symbols and colours that may be prohibited (particularly in the Australian context where ethnic symbols and colours are prohibited as part of a policy to ‘de-ethnicise’ the sport in Australia), and the overt use of swearing in chants (some of which are sometimes directed at the policing agents themselves) (O’Neill, 2005 and Stott; Hughson, 1998 and Reicher, 1998).

Stadium Design and Segregation

One of the key features of football policing in both England and Australia is the use of all- seater stadiums for the hosting of football matches. All-seater stadiums have played a significant role in order maintenance through territorial boundaries. As mentioned elsewhere in this thesis, the introduction of all-seater stadiums in England emerged from a 221 | P a g e

recommendation by Lord Justice Taylor in 1991 following his examination of the Hillsborough disaster. Overcrowding and poor policing and stewarding as well as inadequate facilities were listed as the causes for the disaster. The outcome of which was to affect the development of new legislation to improve safety at football matches. The Taylor report though a local English investigation changed the design of venues around the world. Hence the use of architecture to ensure control over the flow of action in space is part of the strategy of football policing in modern stadiums. All-seater stadiums ensure that the chances of overcrowding are minimised as seats are specifically allocated. Moreover, empty seats are used to segregate rival supporters to ensure sufficient distance to prevent any misconduct. The effective allocation of seating is achieved conceptually through seat allocations and practically through careful monitoring of the turnstiles that serve as entry points to the stadium. These types of strategies are best understood as forms of exercising territoriality and they’re employed by both communal and commercial policing models.

While the requirement to purchase tickets is itself a strategy of inclusion/exclusion from the stadium, the introduction of season tickets can also be used as a control strategy. Interviews with football stewards and observational data at police and club briefings revealed that the season ticket is a powerful tool. Season ticketing serves as a social control strategy in the English context and it allows clubs and their stewards to clearly identify individuals to monitor behaviour over time. It was often mentioned in pre-game briefing that the patron in row C seat 28, for example, had behaved badly in a previous match and he/she should be monitored carefully in the upcoming match. This was not, however, always straightforward, as patrons who received formal warnings for poor behaviour would sometimes write in to say that they were not the one using their season ticket on that occasion and that it was a relative or friend who had breached the by-laws. Nevertheless, the significant amount of season tickets allocated to patrons in the English content resulted in a ‘community’ of spectators that were very familiar with one another as well as very familiar to the stewarding and policing teams. Thus the communal model is exemplified through increased continuity both in terms of crowd controllers and patrons. This is distinct from the commercial model observed in Sydney where

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continuity is much more difficult to achieve due to the fluid nature of security work and to relatively unstable crowd composition.

It is clear that changes in the architectural design of football venues have also expanded the territory that requires policing. Giulianotti and Armstrong (2002) argue that stadium design and increased surveillance have resulted in the dispersal of disorder to areas outside of the stadium. According to the authors, this dispersal results in the formation of ‘avenues of contestation’ in public houses, city centres and other spaces that are of cultural significance to supporters. The formation of these spaces away from the inner realm of the stadium demands that the policing of football operation in England expand to incorporate these areas of the city. As a result, football operations now require a high degree of inter-agency collaboration and the use of intelligence gathering to inform football policing. As illustrated in this study, the football operations unit of the Merseyside Police was very careful about maintaining relationships with community groups, business groups and other policing departments to ensure that where needed the risks associated to both the stadium and the ‘avenues of contestation’ are adequately anticipated. Thus the football operation is not undertaken in a vacuum but inevitably involves actors outside the ‘footprint’ of the stadium itself. This is a key component of a communal model of plural policing.

High Visibility Policing and Supporter Interaction

A concern over the state of affairs in the ‘avenues of contestation’ plays a more significant role in the English context where the communal model is evident than in the Australian context where the commercial model is evident. As has been described elsewhere in the thesis policing agents were organised around two key areas on match day: the city centre and local public houses and the inside of the stadium and its immediate surrounds. Interactions with football supporters differed in each location, for example: observational data from shadowing police constables on patrol in the mobile police patrols showed that for the most

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part, police did not engage with football supporters; they mainly focused on observing the crowd flow and on making their presence known to those arriving into Liverpool by train and coach. A strategy of high visibility was adopted in an attempt to prevent any ‘potential’ trouble ‘kicking off’. Police presence within the city centre was used to send a message to visiting supporters that, for the duration of the football match at least, Liverpool was very much so under police control. This transformation was observed in the incident mentioned earlier in Sydney, where the crowd collectively reacted to the security guard who busted the beach ball (the crowd saw his actions as over-controlling) with chants of ‘You’re a wanker!’ In that example the outcome was a collective verbal assault against the attempt to maintain order.

While non-engagement with supporters characterised the majority of the police role in the city centre, in instances when police did engage it usually consisted of providing directions to visiting supporters about buses or walking routes to Anfield. Similar findings were presented by O’Neill (2005) where police presence in the city centre consisted of providing general services to members of the public, directions to visiting supporters, provided a quick chat or assistance with non-football related medical emergencies.

On the rare occasions when police had to exercise higher degrees of territoriality to control order in areas of the city, police employed horses to contain the movement of visiting supports before and after matches. When these measures were employed, interactions with football supporters tended to be more volatile. Though this tactic was not observed during the observation period, interviews with football fans showed that football supporters felt higher levels of anxiety and antagonism towards police when this occurred because of the discomfort caused by the proximity of the horses and the feelings of being constrained without due cause. An interviewee reported feeling ‘like cattle’ when subjected to this means of enforcing territoriality. Reicher and Stott (1998a, 1998b) using the ESIM warn that the crowd being contained may react violently to the actions of the police (‘out group’), when the police’s actions are considered to be ‘over-controlling’ and in violation of what supporters 224 | P a g e

perceive to be their rights to freely engage in their chosen leisure activity. The risk here is with the possible transformation of individual conscious into a collective conscious.

Big Brother and the Arm of Surveillance

The use of football spotters and football intelligence officers to gain greater degrees of knowledge over ‘troublesome’ fans, results in the movement of surveillance away from the venue and into modern forms of the panopticon that involve tracking the behaviour and whereabouts of known ‘hooligans’ or ‘dangerous’ classes. This type of extension of control away from the match are also linked to the various strategies that police forces in England are able to employ, including the use of banning orders and restrictions that often not only restrict the individual’s access to the stadium itself but may also prohibit their presence in the city or country where the trouble may have occurred. The refusal of visas and the confiscation of passports not permitting individuals the freedom to travel to support their club are all examples of strategies that police employ to exercise territoriality (Herbert 1997; Sack 1986). As a response to these extended forms of control, supporter groups have emerged, particularly in the UK, examples include: the Football Supporters Association and the Independent Supporters Association. Arguably these organisations also form part of the plural policing network as they have the potential to influence policing strategies and policy initiatives. It was outside the scope of this thesis to provide and in-depth examination of the role of these organisations within the security network. However, it is recommended that future studies begin to consider the role of these organisations in contemporary football policing.

Police forces in Australia do not engage in football operations to the scale of their English counterparts. However, as findings have illustrated, the strategies for controlling behaviour within the ground are very similar regardless of whether the system is communal or commercially driven and draw heavily on the physical control of space. As Herbert (1997:10) has argued, one of the core expectations of police officers is that they are capable of securing 225 | P a g e

control over any given space and therefore the police are expected to be effective agents of territoriality. Within the football context, interview and observational data have shown that both public and private agents of social control use territoriality to control disorder at football matches. For example, at both Anfield and Aussie Stadium, rival football supporters are separated through seating allocation; they are seated at opposite ends of the ground behind the goals. Both Liverpool FC and Sydney FC have distinct spaces within the ground that are assigned to the home supporters, namely, the Kop and the Cove respectively.

Practical Definitions of Order and Informal Norms

This study has found that the success of a security network, whether communal or commercial is contingent on the recognition that there exists several levels of governance and order. The laws and local rules determined by governments and stadium management are important but so is the recognition that the discretion employed by public and private agents in the enforcement of these laws and local rules directly impacts on the practical definitions of order at a given venue. Additionally, the practical implementation of order must consider that spectators also form part of the security network of a football stadium and they are practically and directly involved in the co-production of order. Spectator culture both creates and enforces informal norms.

Policing Strategies: Sensitivity to Spectator Culture

Football policing is also sensitive to spectator culture. As shown in Chapter 5, football spectators at both sites had a set of practices that can be defined as a spectator culture. The idea of a football spectator culture is not new; several scholars have argued that there are a set of norms and rules that govern football spectatorship and that these informally generated rules and norms must be respected (Marsh et al, 1978; Giulianotti and Armstrong, 2002; Parry and Malcolm, 2004). For Marsh et al. (1978) the concept of ‘ritualised aggression’ was central

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to English football culture. The authors contended that much of the behaviour presented in the media as violence and disorder was in fact ‘ritualised’ behaviour. ‘Real’ violence (where actual harm was directed in an aggressive manner) rarely occurred at matches. In contrast, ‘aggro’ or symbolic violence, which includes chanting that denigrates opposition players and opposition supporters and the taunting of opposition supporters to gear them up and try to get a reaction from them, was all part of the spectator culture. These practices were evident at both sites and police and private agents both conceded that although legislation did prohibit the use of swear words or use of certain denigrating expressions, it was something that was too difficult to enforce, particularly when the practice was part of the norms of football spectatorship. To intervene against any one spectator would result in a collective reaction from the crowd and that was something that policing agents felt they would prefer to overlook in order to prevent a greater risk to safety resulting from intervention.

As the case studies show, the Kop and the Cove are controlled in very distinct ways from the rest of the venue. Both public and private policing agents acknowledged that the policing of these areas took into account the football tradition that the loudest and most passionate supporters would gather at the ends of the ground. The perception among fans was that through their loud display of support the team could be motivated to score a goal. As illustrated in Chapter 6 on the spectator experience, the ‘Cove’ is almost like sacred space for Sydney FC supporters. Through communication with stadium security and police, supporters in the Cove were able to negotiate a space that allowed them to express their support in what would otherwise be an infringement of the by-laws that governed the stadium. In this way Aussie Stadium security were able to acknowledge the diversity of patrons and to allow football supporters to behave in ways that supporters of other spectator sports were generally not allowed to.

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As reported in Chapter 5, Liverpool FC, their fans and the people of Liverpool have been significantly affected by the Hillsborough stadium disaster. Merseyside Police ensure that they have a police representative at the annual memorial of the Hillsborough tragedy held at Anfield stadium on April 15. This is a show of solidarity with Liverpool FC supporters and also with Liverpudlians generally, given the negative media image of the people of Liverpool following the incident. Similarly, at Aussie Stadium, NSW Police employ a low visibility strategy where they are often in the background. In the past, police were very aggressive particularly with certain ethnic groups (Hughson 1997) and this had resulted in confrontations. As police learn about the unique culture of football spectatorship around the world, they are more likely to react in an informed manner to the spectator culture that is developing at Aussie Stadium—a spectator culture that some fans referred to as ‘fusion cooking’, as it incorporates parts of English, parts of continental European and parts of South American spectator traditions.

This style of policing fits with Stott and Reicher’s (1998a; 1998b) point that policing agents should recognise the ‘collective consciousness’ of crowds such as those in football matches and be aware of the danger of provoking an adversarial reaction through actions that may be seen as illegitimate or unfair. It is also in line with Frosdick’s (2005) and Waddington’s (2007) warning against the use of excessive force or paramilitary policing which is a ‘recipe for disaster’, as spectators are more likely to retaliate if they perceive that they are being over policed. Police and private crowd controllers must ensure open lines of communication with spectator groups to ensure minimal interference with what Marsh et al. (1978) has referred to as ‘ritualised aggression’. This strategy in the policing of football spectatorship accepts Marsh et al.’s (1978) argument that the real danger to public order was the inappropriate intervention by policing agents over ritualised behaviour that is rule governed. The fact that the behaviour is rule governed means that there is self-regulation occurring within spectator groups. This was particularly true in the Australian context where spectators were highly aware of the past representation of football fans as ‘aggressive’ ‘disorderly’ and ‘uncontrollable.’ The fan interviews continually revealed the need to change that demonised

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perception of the football fan and to be relatively ‘well’ behaved to ensure that more people would want to attend football.

While there are some commonalities across football spectator groups there are local variations and idiosyncrasies that must be acknowledged to ensure appropriate policing that is not confrontational. Interview and observational data show that awareness and respect of the spectator culture was crucial to successful public order maintenance inside and outside the stadium. The experiences of football spectators in Sydney illustrate how open communication and joint planning between private security, police and football fan representatives can facilitate the quality of the relationship between these three groups and ensure an appropriate level of intervention. Once all groups have met and decided on what will be acceptable and unacceptable behaviour, it makes it more likely that the spectator, having felt part of the process that defines the regulation of their space and behaviour, will self-regulate and accept instruction from social control agents. From an informal conversation with a security supervisor in Sydney it was obvious that the security and the police appreciated the insight that football fan representatives provided. This was particularly important in this context because Aussie Stadium staff were going to be hosting Sydney FC home matches on a regular basis for the first time during the 2005/2006 season. Fan representatives were able to serve as educators about what the stadium’s security and police should expect.

Giuliannotti and Armstrong (2002) have argued that the various practices that football spectators engage in are a form of contestation over urban landscapes. These are contestations that social control agents cannot eradicate and that form a central part of football spectator culture. The notion of contesting urban spaces can be linked to Bale’s concept of ‘topophilia’ or love of space. Several scholars have identified the nature of the relationship between football fans and ‘their’ stadium (Bale, 1994; Costa 1982 and Morris 1991). This sense of connection to place was particularly evident in Liverpool. The fans interviewed in the study explained their struggles to keep the stadium as their home. They 229 | P a g e

explained how over-regulation and over-surveillance meant that they were no longer allowed to watch football with the same freedom. At the time of the fieldwork in Liverpool several fans were involved in the campaign to ‘Reclaim the Kop’. While the entire stadium is a sacred place for Liverpool FC supporters, the Kop has a special place within the hearts of the fans. Those interviewed yearned for the atmosphere of yesteryear when the Kop was a much de- regulated space, during the time of standing terraces. However, The Taylor Report in 1991 recommended the elimination of standing terraces to prevent overcrowding such as was the case in Hillsborough. While fans for this study agreed that all-seater stadiums had improved safety, they still felt that the ‘no standing rule’ that governs all of Anfield cannot and should not apply to the Kop. As a way of reclaiming the space, spectators in the Kop refuse to sit down during matches, stewards try in vain to get them to adhere to regulations but collectively they are able to control the space. As a football supporter explained, ‘What are they going to do? Kick us all out of the ground? I’ll like to see what would happen then’ (Liverpool FC supporter #003). Hence, spectators in modern stadiums use various means to resist what they perceive as over- regulation of their cultural practices.

In contrast, the concept of topophilia is not as evident in Sydney because the football club does not own the stadium but rather hires the stadium. In spite of this, there are still signs of contestation over space during Sydney FC matches. For example, the formation of the Cove is an attempt by this newly emerging spectator group to form a space within the stadium that is distinct both in its norms and its regulation. Findings revealed that security at the venue were willing to work with organisers of the Cove to create a space where practices that were prohibited in other parts of the venue were permissible within the Cove if security were made aware of them prior to the match. This practice can be referred to as creating ‘thirdspace’, where football spectators gather to affirm their sense of difference but also to celebrate their feelings of belonging (Soja, 1996). In essence, the Cove as a thirdspace or safe space is ‘won out’ of the wider social fabric of the stadium itself. However, as has been the experience with Liverpool supporters and the Kop, thirdspaces are always under the threat of being reclaimed by the policing agents that govern the stadium as a microcosm of society (Soja, 1996). Therefore, the organisers of the Cove are keen to have an open line of communication with 230 | P a g e

stadium management, security and police. The emergence of places such as the Kop and the Cove provide football spectators with some autonomy over space. This is important, considering stadiums have become highly disciplinary spaces (Gaffney and Mascarenhas, 2000). The enclosed nature of the modern stadium creates segmented and mono-functional spaces with a focus on boundaries and efficient surveillance of crowds to achieve order (Bale, 1993). As previously discussed, territoriality is a strategy that can be used to achieve public order management.

Conclusion

In summary, the key findings show that the policing of football is increasingly carried out by a wide range of policing agents in collaboration with the public police. The public police, in Liverpool and Sydney, were present within the ground to address breaches of the law and to provide spectators with ontological security. In contrast, football clubs and stadium managers are relying on in-house or contract private security to command a significant role in the policing of their venues, from customer service roles through to the exercise of inclusion and exclusionary powers, granted through property law by which private policing agents become, ‘officers of the club’. Thus, the policing of football matches is facilitated by strategies of classification, boundary setting and enforcement of access (Herbert, 1997; Hannah, 1997 and Bale, 1994).

The case studies presented in this thesis also show that the scale and public-private mix and the strategies adopted in football policing operations are shaped by historical and cultural factors such as: the popularity of the sport, football stadium disasters, and hooliganism. For instance, the Liverpool plural policing system was much larger than the Sydney system due to the larger crowds attending football matches in Liverpool. The use of stewards in England rather than private security guards as in Australia is also a matter of historical legacy. The use of in-house stewards has proven largely effective because they come from the community and have local knowledge. Warren (1998) in his study of the policing of sporting crowds in Victoria

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found that continuity and local knowledge were powerful tools in the policing of sporting crowds. On the other hand, the communal as opposed to commercial legacy of stewards (Wight, 2007) places them in an awkward position; police underestimate their use (particularly, given the professionalisation of stewarding to increased qualifications and training) and football supporters question their legitimacy to contribute to the football policing operation. O’Neill (2005) reported that stewards have at times been perceived as little more than supporters.

The policing of football in both cases was sensitive to the culture of spectators, with policing agents acknowledging that certain conduct such as cursing in chants and standing during play (forms of ‘ritualised aggression’ Marsh et al., 1978) were best left alone. Thus part of the policing strategy in both communal and commercial models is to acknowledge that both the informal norms created and enforced by supporters themselves are real and essential components of the football operation. This same conclusion was reached by Stott et al., (2001) and Stott et al. (2007) who claim that crowd disorder can often be explained by a reaction to perceived over-control, by police over spectators. Thus, spectators are active agents in constructing the stadium as a space they have control over. Order in the stadium is a negotiated and contested one (O’Neill, 2005).

Practical and theoretical Implications

The practical implications emerging from this study include: the incorporation of spectator cultural practices, and sports history in the training of both public and private policing personnel. This is especially necessary as regards Australian public and private policing personnel. Unlike police and stewards in England, Australian policing agents do not have a long history of policing football matches, nor are they specialised in the policing of football as is the case with stewards in Liverpool. Knowing the historical, social and cultural context of the sport and the people who attend those events will provide event organisers and policing

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agents with the ability to foresee issues and to develop a strategy that takes into consideration the expectations and past experiences of football spectators. Developing a public order strategy with consideration to the spectator perceptions and experiences, will improve the degree of compliance and reduce the potential for conflict, often produced by the implementation of policing strategies that lack cultural awareness.

On a theoretical level, this thesis has shown that the football stadium is a physical place that is socially (i.e. through interactions) and culturally constructed (Sack, 1986). Therefore the stadium is inscribed with history and culture. Policing is facilitated by the physical architecture of the stadium and enabled by rules. For example, the development of ‘home’ and ‘away’ ends within football stadiums is physically possible through the design of the modern stadium, with its allocated seating for all, and multiple entry and exit points. At the same time these ‘ends’ are culturally constructed, football spectators are highly territorial of their ‘home’ ends in particular and describe them as ‘sacred’ spaces, with a ‘personality’ of their own (Bale, 1994, Gaffney and Mascarenhas, 2000). Increasingly through legislation, policing agents are empowered to impose control over the behaviour of football fans, turning football stadiums into highly disciplinary spaces (Bale, 1994: Hannah, 1997). For example, fans are to be seated at all times. Failure to comply can result in exclusion. However, in England and Australia fans contest this by standing in direct opposition to the rules governing the space. Because this is often done in large numbers, policing agents are forced to turn a blind eye (Warren, 1998). This illustrates the nature of football policing as negotiated. Football fans have their own means of contesting the disciplinary power of policing agents. This finding is in agreement with O’Neill (2005).

In particular this study has shown the significance of ‘spatial analyses’ in the policing of football. Territorial control over the football stadium and over the spectators is very much aided and enabled by legislation and regulation. Crawford’s (2003) analysis of ‘contractual governance’ and Palmer and Whelan’s (2007) analysis of ‘communal spaces’ both illustrate how the law serves as a ‘normative order’ (Herbert, 1997). For example major event

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legislation both in England and Australia serves as a tool for ordering the stadium and determines the policing arrangement (i.e. the public-private mix) as well as shaping the policing strategies employed within the stadium. As illustrated above often the best strategy that policing agents can employ in public order management is to do nothing (Stott et al., 2001 and Warren, 1998).

To conclude, the study has shown that there are several layers of governance in the policing of football and that there are a wide range of actors engaged in the policing of football that go beyond the public/private dichotomy. The data shows that there are two contrasting models of plural policing in operation. The Liverpool model is a communal model that is not only larger in operation but also varies in the mix of public/private policing. For example in Liverpool the ratio of police/stewards is 10:1 and stewards are local members of the community who are employed on crowd control duties for minimal wages. Moreover, stewards in senior roles are former police officers. This connection facilitates the relationship between the police and the clubs. However, some officers argued this relationship was ‘too close’ and meant that clubs were receiving a lot of ‘free’ policing services. The communal model witnessed in Liverpool also had an active spectator culture. At the time of data collection, the Reclaim the Kop campaign was underway. This campaign was concerned with preserving the beloved informal norms of football spectator culture. The aim was to ensure that these cultural norms were not completely crushed by ‘sanitised’ forms of spectatorship that created ‘docile bodies’ that could be steered by football authorities.

In contrast, the plural policing network in Sydney can be described as a ‘commercial’ model. The commercial model is in direct contrast from the communal model witnessed in Liverpool. The venues themselves are not owned by the clubs but are hired venues. The crowd controllers are private security guards who hold a crowd control license and work in pubs and clubs on non-match days. In Sydney, these guards work and reside in a satellite city several kilometres from Sydney and they travel into Sydney on weekends when most games are played. There is no way to ensure that the same guards that worked one game will work the next given the casual and shift work nature of the industry. This is in contrast to the

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communal model where continuity of crowd controllers has proven to be an effective strategy is order maintenance.

Another significant distinction between the communal and commercial models is that the relationships between public and private policing agents are more ‘ad hoc’ (Sarre and Prenzler, 2000) in the commercial model than in the communal model. Practical partnerships exist out of convenience and work in symbiotic patterns for brief periods of time. At the managerial level the relationship is more consistent but operationally, the commercial nature of the security network in Sydney means that private security will move on to the jobs that pay best as opposed to the communal model in Liverpool where stewards report working for ‘the love of the club’.

More generally, the thesis has shown how that the growth of private security is driven by expectations of order maintenance that the public police cannot meet as a result of pressure on funding for public services, and the commercial growth of new service industries. A combination of these and other factors, have led the public police into redefining their role, with a greater emphasis on crime prevention and criminal investigation and less on service provision and order maintenance. The thesis shows how understanding of the public-private police relationship requires consideration of the experiences and expectations of a third party – the public who receive, and increasingly ’consume’ (pay for) policing. Just as the public police have had long and difficult negotiations with the community, so we are now seeing that private security operates best when it has substantial links with the community being policed. The thesis shows that there are tensions between private and public providers of policing. These stem from many factors ranging from professional identity maintenance to commercial competition. We will continue to see these tensions being worked through as the roles of public and private police are adapted, developed and negotiated in this key period in the development of plural policing.

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APPENDICES Appendix 1: Sample of Participant information statement

THE UNIVERSITY OF NEW SOUTH WALES

Approval No. 052132

PARTICIPANT INFORMATION STATEMENT AND CONSENT FORM

POLICING SPORTING EVENTS

You are invited to participate in a study of policing at sporting events. I hope to learn about the nature of public order policing at sporting events. In particular the project aims to understand the relationship between the police, private security and football fans at sporting events. You were selected as a possible participant in this study because your insights as a football fan are invaluable to understanding the nature of public order policing at sporting events.

If you decide to participate, I will be asking you a set of questions in relation to your experiences at sporting events. In particular I will be asking you about your experiences at Anfield Stadium, and about your encounters with police and private security. The interview is expected to last for twenty-five minutes depending on your answers. Although I think you will learn something interesting from this experience, I cannot and do not guarantee or promise that you will receive any benefits from this study.

Any information that is obtained in connection with this study and that can be identified with you will remain confidential and will be disclosed only with your permission, except as required by law. If you give me your permission by signing this document, I plan to submit the results of this study to the School of Social Science and Policy at the University of New South Wales as part of assessment for a PhD. In any publication, information will be provided in such a way that you cannot be identified.

Complaints may be directed to the Ethics Secretariat, The University of New South Wales SYDNEY 2052 AUSTRALIA (phone 9385 4234, fax 9385 6648, email [email protected]). Any complaint you make will be treated in confidence and investigated, and you will be informed of the outcome.

Your decision whether or not to participate will not prejudice your future relations with The University of New South Wales. If you decide to participate, you are free to withdraw your consent and to discontinue participation at any time without prejudice.

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask me. If you have any additional questions later, Professor David Dixon (02) 9385 2485 will be happy to answer them.

You will be given a copy of this form to keep. 257 | P a g e

THE UNIVERSITY OF NEW SOUTH WALES

PARTICIPANT INFORMATION STATEMENT AND CONSENT FORM (continued) POLICING SPORTING EVENTS

You are making a decision whether or not to participate. Your signature indicates that, having read the Participant Information Statement, you have decided to take part in the study.

…………………………………………………… .……………………………………………………. Signature of Research Participant Signature of Witness

…………………………………………………… .……………………………………………………. (Please PRINT name) (Please PRINT name)

…………………………………………………… .……………………………………………………. Date Nature of Witness

…………………………………………………… Signature(s) of Investigator(s)

.……………………………………………………. Please PRINT Name

REVOCATION OF CONSENT POLICING SPORTING EVENTS

I hereby wish to WITHDRAW my consent to participate in the research proposal described above and understand that such withdrawal WILL NOT jeopardise any treatment or my relationship with The University of New South Wales.

…………………………………………………… .……………………………………………………. Signature Date

Please PRINT Name

The section for Revocation of Consent should be forwarded to Miss Ana Rodas at School of Social Science and Policy, Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences, University of New South Wales, Sydney NSW 2052

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Appendix 2: Police Interview Guides

Interview Guide - Police Supervisors/Managers

Demographics  Age:  Sex:  Rank:  Amount of years in the profession:

Job Description and training:  Role at sporting events  Differences between managerial and operational policing functions at sporting  events  Any special training received, what is involved and how useful is it?  Job experience required

Pre-event Planning Stage:  Nature of police involvement at the planning stage  Interactions with stadium management  Communications with private security management  Determining crowd control strategies

Role at Sporting Events:  Nature of instructions given to operational police  Interaction and communication with private security supervisors  Role in event of public disorder situation  Preparations on match day

Relationship with Private Security Personnel  Encounters with private security  Understanding of differences between the police and the security guard role, feelings about these  Feelings about private security presence  Division of power/authority between police and private security guard, feelings about this.

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Interview Guide Operational police

Demographics  Age:  Sex:  Rank:  Amount of years in the profession:

Training and Job Experience:  Any special training received, what is involved and how useful is it?  Job experience required  Do they feel prepared for policing sports crowds?

Role at Sporting Events:  Instructions given when policing crowds  Role/use of discretion  Police’s rights and responsibilities, feelings about these  How they view their role  Positive and negative aspects of policing sporting events

Perceptions of Crowds/fans:  Knowledge of crowd behaviour  General feelings about spectators  Interactions with crowd members  Feelings about policing crowds

Relationship with Private Security Personnel:  Encounters with private security  Understanding of differences between the police and the security guard role, feelings about these  Feelings about private security presence  Division of power/authority between police and private security guard, feelings about this.

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Appendix 3: Fan Interview Guide

Demographic  Age:  Sex:  Occupation:  Duration of fan club membership:

Attending Matches  Reasons for attending matches  Expectations on match days  Feelings about being in the stadium  Feelings about being part of the crowd  Knowledge of acceptable conduct  Advantages and disadvantages about attending matches  What supporting the team means to you

Perception of Public Police and Private Security  Feelings about police and private security presence  Understanding of police role/private security role, feelings about these role  Knowledge of police and private security authority over crowd behaviour and feelings about it  Evaluation/assessment of police and private security role and tactics  Differences in how police and private security affect behaviour  Safety at matches  Encounters with police and private security  General feelings about how police and private security deal with fans, any changes they would like to see.

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Appendix 4: Private Security Interview Guide

Demographics  Age:  Sex:  Amount of years in the profession:

Training and Job Experience:  Any special training received, what is involved and how useful is it?  Job experience required  Do they feel prepared for policing sports crowds?

Role at Sporting Events:  Instructions given when policing crowds  Role/use of discretion  Guard’s rights and responsibilities, feelings about these  How they view their role  Positive and negative aspects of policing sporting events

Perceptions of Crowds/fans:  Knowledge of crowd behaviour  General feelings about spectators  Interactions with crowd members  Feelings about policing crowds

Relationship with Police:  Encounters with police  Understanding of differences between the police and the security guard role, feelings about these  Feelings about the police presence  Division of power/authority between police and private security guard, feelings about this.

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