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Tangled Webb: How Beau Lamarre-Condon put top cop’s leadership on trial
As the public face of NSW policing, Karen Webb’s media performance this week has raised questions about her capacity to do the job.
By Jordan Baker
NSW Police Commissioner Karen Webb has been put through the media wringer this week.Credit: Dominic Lorrimer
Temperatures were running high among the state’s top police officers at Goulburn’s academy on Thursday, and not just because of the heat wave. It had been a horror few weeks for the force, beginning with one of its own officers allegedly murdering two men and ending with the police commissioner – the person tasked with calming the community in crises – snappily defending her job amid a battery of criticism.
Commissioner Karen Webb went to the academy after days of being roasted by journalists. She’d offered herself up for back-to-back interviews as penance for failing to speak publicly quickly enough after senior constable Beau Lamarre-Condon – who is accused of using his service pistol to kill young couple Jesse Baird and Luke Davies – was arrested. She addressed 200 senior officers in what those present described as a fiery, defiant speech. They noted one particular line. “Some among us are against us,” Webb said.
Webb’s supporters believe she is being white-anted. While this week’s media storm was about her public performance – of her reluctance to speak, of her soft-voiced hesitancy in front of the camera, of her flippant quoting of Taylor Swift – they say it was stoked by opponents from within. Long-time observers of brutal NSW police politics agree. “The factions in the NSW police force are out to get Karen,” says a well-versed politician watching the drama from Macquarie Street. “You can see it a mile away. This is the way the police operate.”
The alleged murder of Luke Davies and Jesse Baird (left) by serving officer Beau Lamarre-Condon has tested the leadership of Commissioner Webb.Credit: Instagram; Bungonia; Facebook
The motive behind the push is not as clear. Her supporters argue Webb is up against a boy’s club culture that’s deeply ingrained in Sydney police and media, and which can’t adjust to a less blokey leadership style. Her critics – many of whom admit she’s an excellent police officer – say Webb’s problems begin and end with her public performance. They argue community reassurance is a crucial aspect of the role, and that her limp displays cause issues; they leave the community dubious, the politicians uneasy and the police demoralised.
Webb, who has not yet reached the half-way point of her five-year tenure, will weather this storm. She has the support of Premier Chris Minns and Police Minister Yasmin Catley, who says she has never seen a senior public servant subjected to such a “pile on” and argues these jobs are twice as hard for women. But the powerful NSW Police Association – which has strong links to Labor – was this week quiet, refusing to comment on whether Webb still had its support.
There is no precedent in the modern era for beheading a NSW commissioner in their first term – certainly not the first female one. Yet, the past year has been a deeply challenging one for NSW Police; three innocent civilians have allegedly been killed by serving officers, one accidentally and two in cold blood. On both occasions Webb’s response has been widely criticised. Another failure could test patience. Confidence in the police force goes to the heart of the public’s sense of safety, and that’s a precious commodity for a government.
NSW police politics is dirty. Senior officers fight each other as ruthlessly as their political masters down the road. “It gets really bitchy,” said a former police minister who, like most people interviewed for this article, did not want to be named because they were employed by the government or discussing confidential matters. A bureaucrat heading the now-defunct police ministry once remarked that party politics was one of the worst things he’d ever encountered “but police politics is worse”.
Since the Wood Royal Commission in the 1990s, which weeded out the corruption that permeated the force over decades, each commissioner has had to deal with warring, ambitious deputies. Mostly they destroy each other, clearing the way for a dark horse to overtake them. “Some [police] connive against each other for their whole careers,” says a former senior unsworn employee. One theory is that in other professions, ambitious people can move to another company. In NSW Police there’s only one top job.
Former Commissioner Ken Moroney rose from the war between Clive Small and Mal Brammer; Andrew Scipione from the battle between Dave Madden and Dick Adams; and the most recent commissioner, Mick Fuller, from a destructive and very public fued between Cath Burn and Nick Kaldas. Webb, too, was the beneficiary of stumbles by her rivals.
Three people applied for her job. Politicians shied away from former homicide boss Mick Willing (who has since left) due to what they saw as clumsy attempts at lobbying, and Mal Lanyon, who remains a deputy commissioner, was under scrutiny in the upper house for a drunken incident at Goulburn (which someone had leaked).
Old hand David Hudson – the longest-serving deputy commissioner who some say upstaged Webb by calmly answering questions about the alleged murders of Baird and Davies for half an hour on Wednesday – would have been a shoo-in but did not apply, says a source close to the selection process.
Webb wasn’t the type to have always coveted the commissionership, said one person who worked with her. She rose through the ranks and spotted an opportunity, then caught a little luck. “The other two [who were interviewed] were unpalatable for different reasons,” says another close to the selection process.
Webb had two characteristics that are non-negotiable for a NSW commissioner in the modern era; integrity and good character.
But even when she got the job, her weakness was well known. She was a reluctant and lacklustre media performer. She’d had training but, as one person close to her says, didn’t like facing the cameras and did not aspire to be a public figure. The Coalition government had a strategy to manage that; they’d ensure she was backed by a strong minister or by the premier himself, who’d manage the interviews when big stories broke until she found her feet.
In March last year, the government changed. A new minister took over who was inexperienced herself. In May, a senior constable was charged with Tasering a 95-year-old woman on a walking frame at a Cooma nursing home, who was moving slowly towards another officer with a knife. “Stop, just … na bugger it,” he is accused of saying before firing the stun gun, which allegedly caused her to fall and sustain fatal injuries (the case is before the court, which has been told the accused will plead not guilty).
The office of Police Minister Yasmin Catley faced criticism for withholding information about the Tasering of Clare Nowland.
Webb was criticised for taking too long to address the media, and then for what she said when she did. So was the new police minister, Catley. The Police Media Unit, which is responsible for managing Webb’s media strategy, also came under fire for withholding details of the case.
There was no criticism during a spate of drive-by shootings in July last year. Webb came out early. She threw resources at the problem; 100 officers were on the job. She was flanked at the conferences by Catley and Hudson, who took many of the technical questions without any suggestion he was outshining his boss. The display reassured the community that the police had the problem under control. There was no speculation about her leadership. Things seemed to be improving.
But the handling of last week’s alleged double murder repeated the mistakes of Cooma. Senior constable Beaumont Lamarre-Condon is accused of using his police-issue pistol to kill the two men, raising urgent public safety questions about gun safety and recruitment standards. This, says one former police employee with long media experience, is a textbook example of a case in which the commissioner needed to quickly reassure the public that the alleged crime was a one-off rather than evidence of a systemic problem.
Some in her inner circle told Webb she should come out publicly, early, but she didn’t. She issued a statement of condolence to the dead men’s families on Sunday and fronted a press conference, flanked by two of her deputies, on Monday. But for some, including her vocal critic Rob Roberts, a former police officer and NSW upper house MP, who accused her of hiding, that was – like Cooma – too little, too late. In that conference, she was questioned about her leadership. She snapped back. “That’s offensive,” she said.
In the following days, criticism of Webb’s leadership snowballed. The Daily Telegraph compared her unfavourably with calm, experienced, Hudson. Influential talkback hosts Ben Fordham and Ray Hadley called for her resignation following her performance. To negate the hiding claim, she did numerous interviews across television and radio, but kept generating more headlines with flippant phrasing, such as quoting and naming Taylor Swift – “haters like to hate” – and refusing to leave a Channel Seven studio until a camera crew outside had moved.
Catley describes the media frenzy as almost unprecedented. “Quite frankly, I have never seen another senior public servant have this type of scrutiny before, and this pile-on that we saw this week,” she tells the Herald in an interview. When asked if gender was a factor, as Webb’s supporters believe, she says, “I’d like to think not, in 2024. Haven’t we grown up? What I would say is … that as woman you have to do everything twice as hard … you are scrutinised more.”
On the ground, police – male and female – are unhappy. A meme flew around, depicting Webb as Swift. “Every time I see her on TV I close my eyes,” says one. Officers are distressed by the alleged murder, upset that uniformed police were banned from marching in the Mardi Gras Parade, and deflated by the debate about their boss. “She’s out of her depth,” says another. “We’re all copping it because of the [alleged] actions of other cops. She’s not standing up for us.”
Even Webb’s supporters concede she struggles. “It’s a shame she’s not great at media because she’s so good at everything else,” says an ally. But they argue that’s not crucial; that otherwise the $5 billion, 22,000-person behemoth Webb runs is faring well. Crime in most areas is down, and police have made significant arrests in the past year. “It’s probably going better than it’s ever gone out there,” says one high-ranking officer.
Catley agrees. “I find it absurd to think [people say] she’s going to lose her job because she’s not a good media performer. That’s just ridiculous. She has a different leadership style. You don’t have to be exactly like your predecessor, or the one before that.”
One supporter, a former senior policeman, said baying for Webb’s head over her public speaking ability was “outrageous.” Scipione left the Lindt Cafe siege at 10pm and Fuller was criticised by the police watchdog over his racing interests, yet there was no similar outcry. But “she stuffs up a couple of press conferences, and they’re calling for her head”?
Others say that’s wishful thinking. “I don’t think you can do [the commissioner’s job without strong media skills] in 2024. It shouldn’t be that way. But it just is,” says one recently departed, high-ranking officer. “Bringing the authority of the commissioner to the table is important,” says another. “It’s community reassurance; what they say should carry a lot of weight.”
A former politician with experience in police agrees. “Unfortunately, that’s the only thing that the police and community see,” they say. “People on the beat look up to their commissioner, and they don’t see the strength of personality they’ve seen in the past. That translates to how individual officers feel about whether they think the commissioner is out there and has their back.”
Karen Webb soon after she became the first female police commissioner.Credit: Peter Rae
Webb’s supporters also believe she’s being targeted by invisible forces, in the great tradition of internecine police politics with an extra dash of gender discrimination. There’s rumours of leaks against her from senior ranks (all her deputies say they’re loyal). Others counter that Webb’s office is too preoccupied with leaks, to the point where it has become secretive. But Webb would not comment on this in an interview with the Herald. “I’ve got the support of my executive and we just get on with the business,” she said.
If Webb were to resign, Lanyon would be the most likely candidate; the heat over the Goulburn incident has long cooled, he presents well, he understands the media, and he has close relationships with journalists. Hudson was touted as a contender this week, but has shown little interest in the past. One person close to him said he might take it if offered, but wouldn’t apply.
Fuller is still close to senior officers and regularly lunches with them. One person who knows both Webb and Fuller says there is “not a lot of love” there. Departures don’t dim ties; Fuller had a faction in the force and it is still loyal. Kaldas and Willing also have active supporters inside and outside the organisation.
Fuller declined to comment, but a source close to him denied any undermining, saying the former police boss had nothing to gain. “He’s two years out,” they said. “He promoted her twice; why would he want to see her fail?” The Herald does not suggest otherwise.
Even while this is all bubbling underneath, Webb needs to fix her more visible problem. One veteran media trainer says it’s impossible to turn a poor media performer into an outstanding one, but practice and training can lead to improvement. Others – Scipione, for example – grew in the job. Webb says if she needs to work on it, she will. “I’m always learning and I can always improve,” she says. “If the community wants to see more of the commissioner in the media then I can respond to that.”
Veteran police and politicians also question Webb’s media strategy, which is run by the Police Media Unit. They scratch their heads over the repeat of the Cooma error, and warn a reluctance to play ball with radio announcers’ interview requests can create a vacuum that is filled by critical voices. “You can’t get Hadley and Fordham offside at the same time,” says one former politician. When Catley was asked whether Webb could have had better media advice, she said, “yes.”
Some on the political world also believe Catley and Minns should to do more to support Webb. “This is a pile on and it’s unfair,” says one. “I know she has made substantial mistakes, but it needs to be looked at in the whole context. You can’t have a weak police minister and a quiet police commissioner. Catley has exposed Webb. If there is a reshuffle, they need to get someone like [planning minister] Paul Scully into the job.”
Webb says she feels supported by the government. “Whatever minister I’ve had has always been there if I’ve needed them”. Catley, who wants to stay in the portfolio, says she had no problem standing with Webb, “any day of the week. I support Karen completely. I would encourage her to stay.”
One recently departed high-ranking police officer says Sydney’s media is the “most intense” in the country. Webb’s performance could improve; the question is whether she’ll be given the chance. “Sydney eats everyone, eventually,” they say. “The challenge is, will Sydney relax and let her settle for 12 months?”
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