By any rational metric, the state of Dorset Police in 2025 is not merely troubling; it is disgraceful. Behind the polished PR statements and photo ops of smiling bobbies stands a force hollowed out by over a decade of contemptuous neglect, institutional gaslighting, and scandalous underinvestment. The latest findings from the 2024 Police Federation of England and Wales (PFEW) Pay and Morale Report reveal what any halfway-sentient observer has long suspected: the force isn’t just demoralised; it’s decaying.
Let’s start with the numbers: cold, brutal, and damning. A staggering 81% of Dorset officers say they are financially worse off than they were five years ago. Nearly one in five admits they can’t afford basic essentials. These aren’t people frittering away salaries on luxury holidays; these are public servants struggling to heat their homes and to feed their families — all while running towards danger when the rest of us are running away.
This isn’t some sudden post-pandemic shock. It’s a crisis more than a decade in the making. Despite a meagre 4.75% pay rise in 2024, officer pay has plummeted by a fifth in real terms since 2010. The supposed “respect” for those who uphold the law is exposed as a hollow slogan, belied by 94% of Dorset officers saying they do not feel respected by the Government. Is it any wonder, then, that more than a quarter of them are planning to quit as soon as they can?
This rot extends beyond wallets and into the soul of the job. 58% of officers report low morale, and 79% wouldn’t recommend the job to anyone else. Imagine that; four out of five officers would tell friends and family to steer clear of the force entirely. That statistic alone should prompt resignations at the highest levels of police and political leadership. Instead, we get silence. Or worse, spin.
Even physical safety, supposedly a bare minimum in a civilized society, is sacrificed on the altar of political indifference. 15% of officers were injured seriously enough to require medical attention in the past year due to violence on duty. Fewer than one in four has reliable access to double crewing, meaning officers are routinely sent out alone, into potentially violent situations, with only a stab vest and a prayer.
The horror continues. 56% say their workload is too high, 32% feel pressured to work excessive hours, and 3% haven’t even had regular access to the legal minimum of an 11-hour break between shifts. In what dystopia is this acceptable? Oh yes, today’s Dorset.
Let us not forget the mental toll. A harrowing 85% of officers report experiencing stress, anxiety, or other mental health struggles in the last year. Nearly half describe their job as “very” or “extremely” stressful. These aren’t pampered bureaucrats moaning about minor inconveniences; these are exhausted, traumatised professionals being ground into the dirt by a system that neither appreciates nor protects them.
And still, through sheer resilience, these officers persist. They show up. They police. They serve communities that often view them with suspicion, hostility, or outright contempt, a sentiment increasingly shared by the officers themselves, directed not at the public but at the policymakers who treat them as disposable.
This isn’t just a Dorset problem. It’s a national scandal. But Dorset serves as a case study in how badly things can unravel when indifference becomes policy and neglect becomes culture.
The question now is not whether Dorset Police is broken. it clearly is, but whether anyone in power actually cares enough to fix it.
Because if they don’t, then what remains isn’t a police force. It’s an open wound, one that bleeds credibility, capacity, and dignity, with no one reaching for a tourniquet.
Shame on those who let it come to this.
