Tunnel Vision
First Impressions
Police officers are trained to be observant. Their ability to notice details, inconsistencies, behaviour, and patterns is an essential part of criminal investigation. But observation alone is not the danger.
The danger begins when first impressions quietly become conclusions.
In England and Wales, reforms during the 1980s increasingly separated police investigation from prosecutorial decision-making. The purpose was not to weaken police, but to reduce the risk that investigators might become too personally invested in proving an early theory correct.
In Australia, independent prosecutorial bodies also exist, particularly for serious matters. However, police often remain heavily involved after charge through brief preparation, witness management, disclosure processes, and police prosecution roles in lower courts. This can unintentionally allow early assumptions to continue influencing the direction of a case long after the initial investigation begins.
Importantly, this does not usually begin with bad intentions.
Most investigators follow what initially appears to be the most logical direction based on:
• first impressions
• available evidence• witness statements• surrounding circumstances• and the absence of alternative explanations at that moment in time.
The real dilemma begins later.
What happens when conflicting evidence emerges?
At that point, investigators face a difficult psychological and professional crossroads:
• reassess the entire direction of the case
or
• continue building upon the original theory already formed.
This is where tunnel vision can begin to quietly develop.
Personal Experience
In my own case in 1963, police vehicle examiner Trevor Condran concluded that my vehicle had not struck a pedestrian. According to later evidence, he was told that police already had the offender, who had confessed, and that his role was simply to prepare a report that would not conflict with the prosecution's case.
Forty years later, Mr Condran appeared during the appeal proceedings and, for the first time, fully explained his original findings. His evidence became an important part of the eventual exoneration.
A second example came in 1964, moments before the execution of Eric Edgar Cooke. Standing on the gallows, Cooke reportedly took the Bible from Reverend George Jenkins and declared:“I swear before Almighty God, I killed Anderson and Brewer.”
For months he had attempted to convince authorities that two men were imprisoned for crimes he himself had committed. His admissions were rejected.
These cases reveal something deeply human.
At some point, both men reached a place where conscience became more important than protecting the original narrative.
Perhaps one of the most difficult things for any human being — whether police officer, lawyer, judge, politician, journalist, or ordinary citizen — is to say:“I may have been wrong.”
Yet without that ability, no justice system can fully protect itself from tunnel vision.
Can Tunnel Vision Ever Be Eliminated?
The UK model more sharply separates police as investigators/evidence-gatherers from prosecutors, while the Australian model often keeps police procedurally involved after evidence is gathered, especially in summary matters and in building/maintaining the brief through to plea, trial, or conviction.
One of the greatest dangers in any investigation is not corruption, malice, or dishonesty.
It is certainty.
The moment an investigator forms a strong first impression, the human mind naturally begins looking for information that supports that belief while unconsciously discounting information that does not. Psychologists call this confirmation bias. In policing, it often becomes known as tunnel vision.
Importantly, this is not simply an Australian problem. It is a human problem.
In England and Wales, concerns about police becoming too closely invested in prosecutions led to major reforms during the 1980s. Much of this followed several controversial cases, including the Maxwell Confait case, where false confessions and investigative failures raised serious concerns about police procedures and the lack of independent review.
As a result, England gradually moved toward a system in which police primarily investigate and gather evidence, while an independent body — the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) — assesses whether to proceed with charges based on the evidence and the public interest.
The purpose was not to weaken the police.
It was to create greater separation between:
• the person trying to solve the crime and
• the person deciding whether the evidence truly supports prosecution.
Australia also has independent prosecutorial bodies for serious matters. However, in many areas — particularly lower courts and summary prosecutions — police often remain heavily involved after charge through brief preparation, witness management, disclosure processes, and police prosecution roles.
This does not automatically create injustice.
But it does create a greater risk that early assumptions will continue to shape the case long after the initial investigation has begun.
And once human beings become emotionally invested in a conclusion, it becomes very difficult to step backwards and ask the most important question of all:
“What if our first impression was wrong?”
“Once suspicion becomes belief, the investigation itself can begin changing.”
Next Edition: Confirmation Bias.
Question for Readers:
Have you ever become completely certain about something — only to later discover you were mistaken?
If so, what allowed you to change your mind?
“Perhaps the greatest danger is not when we form conclusions — but when we begin defending them.”
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