

Sometimes known as Police Perpetrated Domestic Violence.
Officer Involved Domestic Violence refers to domestic abuse or intimate partner violence perpetrated by Police Officers.
Officer‑involved domestic violence sits inside a broader reality of gendered violence: policing remains a male‑dominated institution, and most victim‑survivors of intimate partner violence are women. When sexism and misogyny are present—at the individual or cultural level—they can compound OIDV by shaping credibility, minimising harm, and reinforcing “closed ranks” responses that leave women less safe and less believed.
Many theorists believe that the reason police officers are more likely to abuse their domestic partners is because they are trained to behave in certain ways on the job, training that has the effect of making them controlling and violent. Officers are trained to develop a “command presence.” In order to maintain control over situations, they are taught to use verbal commands and intimidation meant to gain acquiescence, and/or physical force (punches, kicks, and the use of weapons) when their orders are not obeyed. Such behaviors used at home constitute a behavioral “spillover,” in which police officers treat family members as criminal suspects.
Journal of Law & Public Affairs June 2017
In the book The 'Police Wife, the secret epidemic of police violence' by Alex Roslin, he became interested in this topic when he sat in a DV group that contained, biker wives and police wives. Roslin stated he could not figure out what these two had in common? It was then he realised it was because they both had nowhere to go to keep safe.
Police wives are the most least likely victims to report domestic abuse.

Under the law it is known as 'Failure to Protect' and Under the 'Oath' it is called Police Misconduct.
When domestic violence involves a police officer, the harm can be amplified. Officer‑involved domestic violence (OIDV) is not only an intimate‑partner violence issue—it is also an issue of public trust, police integrity, victim safety, and institutional accountability.
In many cases, the greatest risk is not just the abuse itself, but what happens after a victim seeks help: when systems close ranks, minimise the violence, or fail to act. This is what many victim‑survivors describe as a “failure to protect”—when the very institutions meant to keep people safe do not respond in a safe, fair, and effective way.
How does this effect our community?
Domestic violence cannot be effectively addressed in society while officer-involved domestic violence (OIDV) remains unacknowledged and insufficiently addressed within police institutions. Police are the primary authority responsible for responding to domestic and family violence. When that authority is compromised by perpetrators within the system itself, it undermines the safety, trust, and integrity of the entire response framework.
Women are repeatedly told to seek help from police when they are in danger. However, if police stations are not safe places for victims to disclose abuse—particularly when the perpetrator may be a police officer or connected to the policing network—then the system designed to protect becomes part of the harm. Survivors of OIDV frequently report barriers such as intimidation, conflicts of interest, institutional loyalty, minimisation of complaints, and failures to properly investigate allegations involving officers. These dynamics create a culture of silence that discourages reporting and leaves victims exposed to further risk.
A policing system cannot credibly protect the community from domestic violence while simultaneously failing to address violence within its own ranks. The legitimacy of domestic violence policing depends on transparency, accountability, and the assurance that victims will be treated impartially, regardless of who the perpetrator is. When officer-perpetrated abuse is not rigorously investigated and addressed, it sends a broader message that some perpetrators are beyond accountability.
Women are not truly safe until police stations themselves are safe spaces for disclosure. Victims must be able to approach police knowing that officers will respond with professionalism, independence, and protection—not institutional defensiveness or retaliation. Ensuring this requires clear reporting pathways outside local police commands, independent oversight, robust investigations, and survivor-centred processes that recognise the unique power imbalance when the perpetrator is a police officer.
Addressing officer-involved domestic violence is therefore not a peripheral issue—it is foundational to the credibility and effectiveness of the entire domestic violence response system. If society is serious about preventing domestic violence and protecting women, reform must begin where authority and accountability intersect: within policing institutions themselves. Until victims can safely walk into a police station and trust that the system will protect them regardless of who the perpetrator is, the promise of safety remains incomplete.
For risk identification and assessment, the MARAM framework can help practitioners recognise patterns that are common in family violence—including Officer‑Involved Domestic Violence (OIDV).
An adult who is using family violence may try to pull a professional into their version of events so the professional aligns with them (consciously or unconsciously). This is called an invitation to collude.
In OIDV, these invitations can be especially persuasive because the person using violence may be seen as credible, authoritative, calm, or “knowledgeable about the system.” That perceived credibility can increase the risk that services unintentionally adopt the perpetrator’s narrative.
Your role is to:
In OIDV this can sound like:
Preventing secondary abuse and by‑proxy harm requires services to prioritise:
If an abusive police officer thinks you may report the abuse, they may use their authority, credibility, and knowledge of procedures to make it look like you are the problem. This is often a deliberate attempt to flip the story so the officer appears to be the victim and you are portrayed as the aggressor—sometimes with the goal of discouraging you from speaking up or increasing the risk that you will be blamed or arrested.
They may spread a carefully constructed version of events to people who can influence outcomes, including friends, family, colleagues, supervisors, lawyers, and the court.
After you try to disclose abuse or seek help, the officer may:
DARVO is a common manipulation pattern used by people who abuse others. The term was coined by researcher Jennifer Freyd and stands for:
Deny – Attack – Reverse Victim & Offender
In Officer‑Involved Domestic Violence (OIDV), DARVO can be especially powerful because the person using violence may also have uniform credibility, system knowledge, and professional networks. That doesn’t mean all officers do this—but when OIDV occurs, these dynamics can make DARVO harder to detect and more damaging
The person using violence flatly denies what happened, minimises it, or reframes it as “not that serious.”
In OIDV, denial may sound like:
This can include gaslighting—pressuring the victim‑survivor to doubt their memory, judgment, or interpretation, until they start asking themselves whether they’re “overreacting.
Next, the focus shifts away from the behaviour and onto your credibility. The goal is to discredit, distract, and intimidate.
In OIDV, attack may include:
The impact is that the victim‑survivor feels bullied into silence, or begins to carry false guilt for the abuse
Finally, the person using violence positions themselves as the “real victim” and casts the victim‑survivor as the offender.
In OIDV, reversal may look like:
This step is particularly harmful because it can shift attention away from safety and accountability. The victim‑survivor ends up spending their energy defending their reputation instead of being supported and protected
DARVO doesn’t just distort the truth—it can increase risk by:
When OIDV is suspected, treat credibility bias as a safety issue. A calm, confident presentation or professional status should never replace:
Russell and Pappas argue that officer-involved domestic violence (OIDV) remains under‑researched, inconsistently addressed, and poorly measured, despite the high stakes for victim‑survivors and community trust. They note that research attention dropped off after the 1990s, leaving major gaps in what we know about prevalence, reporting, and effective responses. The article reviews existing scholarship and highlights how the power, credibility, and system knowledge associated with policing can compound harm and deter reporting. The authors also point out that while the International Association of Chiefs of Police (IACP) has developed model policy guidance, it is unclear how consistently those standards have been adopted or implemented across agencies. They emphasise that OIDV training is uncommon, but early/pilot curriculum efforts show promise. Overall, they call for uniform policy implementation and consistent officer/agency responses, plus greater transparency through stronger research and reporting, so that OIDV is not treated as a hidden or “exception” problem within policing systems.
Consequences of OIDV can include:
1. Physical harm or death
2. Emotional trauma and C/PTSD
3. Loss of trust in law enforcement
4. Difficulty seeking help or reporting abuse
5. Negative impact on children and families
Addressing OIDV requires:
1. Specialised training for law enforcement
2. Clear policies and procedures for reporting and investigating OIDV
3. Support services for victims and legal representation 'outside' the police station and away from local legal services in a unique expert field of barristers that are willing to take on the culture of police
4. Accountability and consequences for offending officers
5. Cultural shift within law enforcement to prioritise victim safety and accountability
At the macro level, the focus is structural change: independent investigations, transparent outcomes, and consequences that match risk.
Impact statements
"When people don't believe us, this is what does the most damage, not only that, no one helps us and it places my kids and me in danger."
“They questioned my choices instead of his violence.”
“When my own friends or family believed him, it wasn’t just betrayal—it was isolation.”
“I spent years being abused and silenced. When I finally escaped, I thought I’d be heard—until people sided with him and repeated his lies.”
“When your support system sides with the perpetrator, you don’t just lose trust—you lose safety.”
"Many people blamed me for my own abuse"
"Its always about power and control, he just wanted to win and come out on top"
“Leaving didn’t end the harm. The next chapter was being discredited—again and again.”
“I didn’t have a voice while it was happening. I never expected to lose my voice again after I left.”
“This wasn’t conflict. It was domination. He wanted control, and he wanted victory.”
“He tried to strip away everything—my stability, my reputation, my future. The damage was total.”
“I learned quickly that protection didn’t come from a station. It came from not being isolated—and having others who could verify what was happening.”
"The only way I could protect my self was not by going in the police station, it was by finding another partner as quickly as I could and knowing the police couldn't make up lies about me then."
"They have never found Ruth Ridleys body"
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