Let’s face it; we live in a world that is often obsessed with what’s next; the next tech, next trends, next generation. As such, it takes a somewhat uncommon clarity to pause and look back, not in nostalgia, but in reverence. That’s exactly what Police Commissioner, Dr Kevin Blake, did in his most recent address to members in the weekly Force Orders. In recognising the contributions of retired members of the Force, Dr Blake reminded the country that institutional memory is a strategic asset, not a sentimental relic.
“It was awesome to have been in the company of these stalwart leaders who have laid the foundation upon which we now build,” Dr Blake reflected after hosting three former Commissioners, Francis Forbes, Owen Ellington, and Dr Carl Williams, for lunch. In that simple act of shared bread and reflection, the Commissioner went beyond honouring men of distinguished service to honouring the institution itself.
Organisations, especially public ones, too often treat retirement as a closing curtain; an administrative exit more than a transition of wisdom. Yet, as Dr Blake rightly points out, “To forget them is to forget ourselves. In every shift we work, in every call we answer, echoes the silent strength of those who once did the same.” That’s not poetic flair, it’s an operational truth. Police culture, like any ecosystem, is shaped by what it remembers and what it values. And memory, when harnessed thoughtfully, becomes mentorship.
The decision by the JCF High Command to rename the Commissioner’s Office as The Dr Carl Williams Building is a masterstroke in symbolic leadership. Dr Williams, who led the Force from 2014 to 2016, designed the blueprint for the very structure that now serves as headquarters—fully aware that he may never occupy the office. “He envisioned a home for leadership he might never inhabit. That is legacy. That is service,” said Dr Blake. In immortalising his foresight, the JCF has set a precedent: legacy is not measured by tenure, but by vision.
But the Commissioner made another gesture that went even further. In announcing the issuance of JCF ID cards to retired members, he is codifying respect. “This ID is the embodiment of our awareness that their sacrifice lit the torch, and our duty is to keep it burning,” he explained. These words matter. They signal to former officers that they remain members of the policing family, not just in history, but in identity.
Additionally, it is an act of public pedagogy. It teaches younger members of the Force that their service is not transactional, but is transcendent. It repositions the Constabulary not as a workplace one leaves behind, but as a lifelong calling, shaped by continuity and community. It also affirms that one can be retired and still relevant!
Indeed, the notion that past JCF members have little to offer in the age of AI and advanced analytics is both false and dangerous. No software replaces intuition honed over decades. No algorithm outpaces wisdom forged in fieldwork. By keeping retirees engaged, the JCF is modelling something many public institutions would do well to emulate: multi-generational governance.
There is something profoundly democratic about an organisation that celebrates its elders while empowering its youth. Jamaica is a society where oral history has long preserved our truths, and where elders have always played a sacred role in communal guidance. The JCF, in mirroring this cultural norm, is preserving law enforcement values, and – by extension – preserving Jamaican values.
That is why this column from the Commissioner ought not to be read as an internal nod to retirees. It should be read as a national example of what public sector leadership ought to look like. It is respectful without being rigid; proud without being self-congratulatory. And it reminds us that reform doesn’t have to mean rupture. Progress, after all, is strongest when anchored in the shoulders of those who carried the weight before us.
“Let us honour them with our conduct—by choosing courage over convenience, service over self, and justice over comfort,” Dr Blake charged his members. In that charge lies a philosophy of leadership; one that believes the past and future must walk hand in hand, not in conflict, but in concert.
In an age of disruption, Jamaica needs institutions that know how to remember. The JCF, it seems, has not forgotten that wisdom never retires.
