Police often become an escalating factor in mental health crises
New South Wales stands at a threshold long approached through grief: the recognition that sending armed officers to mental health crises is not care, but risk. Following a string of deaths and years of advocacy, the state's police and health departments are finalizing an agreement to place trained health workers — not police — at the center of non-criminal mental health responses. The reform mirrors a model already practiced in the United Kingdom, and arrives as NSW police are simultaneously stretched thin by a surging prison population and chronic staffing shortages. What is being negotiated is not merely a policy change, but a reckoning with who bears responsibility for human suffering.
- Five people — Clare Nowland, Steve Pampalian, Jesse Deacon, Krista Kach, and Collin Burling — died during mental health incidents involving police, and their families have refused to let those deaths become footnotes.
- NSW's own internal police review confirmed what critics had long argued: officers frequently escalate the very crises they are sent to resolve.
- A memorandum of understanding between NSW Police and NSW Health is described as 'very close to being signed,' promising to redirect non-criminal mental health callouts to trained health workers under a 'right person, right care' model.
- Meanwhile, NSW prisons have absorbed over 1,200 new inmates in just four months — more than the previous four years combined — leaving police doubly burdened as both crisis responders and de facto prisoner transport operators.
- Both the police union and the political opposition are pressing the government to move faster, warning that officers are being asked to fill systemic gaps they were never equipped or trained to fill.
New South Wales is nearing a formal agreement that would redirect mental health crisis calls away from police and toward trained health workers — a shift long demanded by families, unions, and parliamentary inquiries alike. Police Minister Yasmin Catley confirmed this week that a memorandum of understanding with NSW Health is nearly finalized, modeled on the United Kingdom's 'right person, right care' framework. An internal police review released last September acknowledged plainly that officers often make mental health crises worse, not better.
The reform has been shaped by loss. In 2023, Clare Nowland, Steve Pampalian, Jesse Deacon, and Krista Kach all died during mental health incidents involving police. In 2024, Collin Burling — a public housing resident — died after begging for help while restrained by officers. Their families have been persistent. The Police Association of NSW has echoed their call, with president Kevin Morton arguing at a Wollongong conference that officers are routinely deployed into situations they are neither trained nor suited to handle.
The reform arrives against a backdrop of compounding pressure. NSW's prison population surpassed 14,000 in March, with more than 1,200 new inmates added in just four months — a surge linked to increased enforcement activity following bail reforms around domestic violence. Police are also being used to transport prisoners, a role the union has bluntly compared to running an Uber service for corrections. Premier Chris Minns signaled that announcements on both mental health and prisoner transport are imminent.
On recruitment, a fourth annual training class will be added at the Goulburn police academy, with the commissioner noting that officer numbers are finally growing. But the deeper question remains structural: a police force asked to serve as mental health responder, social worker, transport operator, and crime fighter cannot do any of those things well. The agreement being negotiated would return one of those roles to the professionals built for it — and whether it is signed quickly may determine who arrives at the next person's door in crisis.
New South Wales is on the verge of a significant shift in how it responds to mental health crises. Police Minister Yasmin Catley told union members this week that a memorandum of understanding with NSW Health is nearly finalized—a deal that would fundamentally change who shows up when someone in psychological distress calls for help. Instead of police arriving first, the state is moving toward a model where trained health workers become the primary responders to mental health incidents that involve no crime and pose no immediate danger to life.
The proposed approach mirrors what the United Kingdom has been doing under its "right person, right care" framework. It's a recognition, finally formalized at the highest levels of government, that police officers are often the wrong tool for a mental health emergency. An internal NSW police review released last September made this explicit: officers themselves admitted they frequently become an escalating factor in these situations, making things worse rather than better. A parliamentary inquiry the previous June had already urged the same direction—that health experts, not law enforcement, should be the first call.
The push for reform has been driven by tragedy and persistence. Clare Nowland, Steve Pampalian, Jesse Deacon, and Krista Kach all died in 2023 while experiencing mental health crises and police involvement. Last year, Collin Burling, a public housing resident, died after begging for help while restrained by officers. Families of these victims have been vocal. The Police Association of NSW, speaking through its president Kevin Morton, has also demanded change—not out of softness, but out of recognition that officers are being asked to do work they're not trained for and shouldn't be doing. "We need mental health reforms that stop police becoming the default response for every crisis," Morton said at Tuesday's conference in Wollongong.
The timing is complicated by another crisis entirely. NSW is locking up more people than ever before. The prison population hit more than 14,000 in March, with 1,200 new inmates added in just four months—more than the previous four years combined. This surge began in November, shortly after a new police commissioner took office, and data shows it's driven by increased enforcement activity, particularly around domestic violence offences following the government's bail reforms. Police Minister Catley acknowledged the irony: officers are doing their job so effectively that the corrections system is buckling under the weight.
Premier Chris Minns suggested announcements are coming soon on both mental health callouts and prisoner transport—another area where police have been filling a gap they shouldn't be responsible for. Opposition leader Kellie Sloane, also speaking at the conference, called the delay unacceptable. "Officers are plugging too many gaps in a mental health system that is in crisis, and that is not your job," she said. The union president made a similar point about prisoner transport, arguing that Corrective Services NSW should handle its own logistics rather than leaving police to act as what he called "Uber drivers for those in custody."
The government is also moving on recruitment. A fourth annual training class will be added at the police academy in Goulburn, aiming to boost officer numbers by 30 percent. Commissioner Mal Lanyon noted that for the first time in years, more officers are joining than leaving, though staffing shortages remain acute. He also emphasized that crime itself is falling or stable across most categories, though he acknowledged that public perception matters as much as statistics.
What's emerging is a picture of a police force stretched across too many roles—mental health responder, prisoner transport operator, social worker, and crime fighter all at once. The reform being negotiated would carve out one significant piece of that burden and hand it to the people actually trained to handle it. Whether the agreement gets signed, and how quickly it gets implemented, will determine whether the next person in psychological crisis gets a health worker or a police officer at their door.
Notable Quotes
We need mental health reforms that stop police becoming the default response for every crisis.— Kevin Morton, Police Association of NSW president
Officers are plugging too many gaps in a mental health system that is in crisis, and that is not your job.— Kellie Sloane, NSW opposition leader
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why has it taken this long for NSW to consider what the UK figured out years ago?
Because the default assumption has always been that police can handle anything. It's cheaper in the short term, and it doesn't require building a whole new system. But the cost shows up in deaths and in officers burning out doing work they never signed up for.
The police union is actually pushing for this. That's unusual, isn't it?
It is. But the union isn't being soft—they're being practical. Officers know they're escalating situations. They know they're not trained for de-escalation in the way a mental health worker is. And they're drowning in calls that have nothing to do with crime.
What about the prison population surge? How does that connect?
It's the other side of the same problem. Police are being asked to enforce their way out of social problems. Bail reforms meant more arrests for domestic violence, which is necessary, but now corrections is overflowing and police are stuck transporting prisoners because no one else is doing it.
So the reform is really about unburdening police?
Partly. But it's also about getting the right person to the crisis. A health worker and a police officer have completely different tools and training. One de-escalates through conversation and care. The other is trained to control and enforce. You need both in society, but not both at every mental health call.
Will this actually happen, or is it just talk?
The minister says the agreement is nearly signed. But "nearly" has been the status for a while. The real test is implementation—whether health workers actually get funded and trained to take these calls, or whether it becomes another unfunded mandate that never quite launches.