Police stations are not houses of worship and must stop acting like them

 

OVER recent years a quietly worrying trend has been taking shape across Malaysia: police stations, once understood as civic institutions for law enforcement and public safety, are increasingly being treated—and treating themselves—as moral arbiters.

In practice this shift means that matters of private conscience, personal identity and cultural expression are being policed in ways that belong neither to criminal law nor to plural, democratic governance.

The result is an erosion of public trust, a chilling effect on marginalised communities, and a blurring of the line between the legitimate functions of the state and the territory of the heart and spirit.

At its best, policing is about protecting life, preventing harm and upholding the rule of law. At its worst, it can be an instrument for social control exercised according to majority tastes, moral panics or political convenience.

When a place charged with enforcing statutes becomes a venue for adjudicating morality—whether around attire, sexual orientation, religious practice or lifestyle—we must ask: to whom does the state answer, and whose dignity is being sacrificed in the name of order?

Many Malaysians will recognise the scenario when a member of the public is summoned or stopped because of how they present themselves or what they said on social media.

The encounter that follows is often not limited to checking paperwork or ensuring public safety. Instead, the person is questioned or lectured about morality, or even pressured to conform to normative expectations.

The consequences are concrete and harmful; for individuals, being subjected to moral assessment at a police station can be humiliating, frightening and damaging to livelihood and reputation.

It discourages people from reporting crimes, seeking help or cooperating with law enforcement. Women, LGBTQ+ people, religious minorities and the economically marginalised are especially vulnerable to these dynamics.

For institutions, it corrodes the legitimacy of policing. A police force that is seen as judging morality rather than protecting safety risks losing the consent of the governed. Once trust is lost, cooperation evaporates and effective policing becomes far harder.

For society, conflating legal enforcement with moral arbitration undermines pluralism. Malaysia’s Federal Constitution enshrines freedom of religion and certain liberties; the Rukun Negara calls for tolerance and harmony.

A policing culture that overrides these principles in practice weakens the social compact that holds a multi-ethnic, multi-religious nation together.

Consider the difference between a disturbance that endangers others and a private behaviour that offends some sensibilities: The former is a legitimate target for police action; the latter is usually a matter for social persuasion, religious counsel, or civil remedies.

When police intervene in the latter realm, they are stepping outside their institutional competence.

Public debates about morality are healthy when they take place in churches, mosques, temples, assemblies and the media. They are not healthy when the coercive apparatus of the state is the main forum for moral instruction.

Clearer operational guidelines must be in police manuals and standard operating procedures must clearly distinguish between criminal conduct and private moral choices. Guidance should be given on when interviews are appropriate, how to treat vulnerable persons, and when to refer matters to non-police agencies.

Training in human rights and cultural competence will reduce discretionary mistakes and equip officers to handle sensitive encounters with dignity. Training should emphasise procedural fairness, non-discrimination and the protection of vulnerable witnesses.

Stronger oversight and complaints mechanisms must be activated. Independent civilian oversight bodies with accessible complaint procedures would deter moralising behaviour and provide redress when it occurs. Transparency about investigations into alleged misconduct will rebuild public confidence.

Legal clarity and legislative reform in ambiguous or overly broad statutes that invite moral policing should be reviewed. Laws should target demonstrable harm, not private conduct that causes moral discomfort to some.

Policing requires humility. Officers are empowered with the state’s coercive force and must therefore exercise that power with restraint and respect for human dignity.

Moral leadership in a plural society comes not from enforcement alone but from institutions that protect rights while enabling citizens to debate and persuade one another freely.

When a police station starts to feel like a house of worship—a place where people are expected to conform to a single moral vision—everyone loses.

The believer who expects sanctuary from the state is disappointed; the sceptic who expects impartiality is betrayed. Malaysia’s strength lies in its ability to live with difference. Protecting that strength requires institutions that treat citizens as rights-bearing individuals, not as subjects to be moulded.

If Malaysia is to remain a society where debate is robust, institutions fair, and citizens secure, then the public sphere must be reclaimed from moral policing. Police stations must be re-cast firmly as places that investigate harm and keep the peace—not as tribunals of taste.

That re-casting will take political will, institutional reform and a renewed commitment to constitutional principles. But the alternative—a persistent blurring of lines between law and morality—will only deepen division, erode trust, and make all of us less safe.

In a healthy democracy, houses of worship remain houses of worship; police stations remain places of public safety. The guardians of order must remember which is which. 

KT Maran is a Focus Malaysia viewer.

The views expressed are solely of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of  MMKtT.

- Focus Malaysia.