The complaint is: Police are too rough on the black males they deal with. But the cameras always come in late, and what we don’t see is what transpired before.
Look at it from the perspective of the police for a second. Often they’re white, with athletic builds or military backgrounds, and they’re used to some rough stuff. Black and Hispanic officers might be around, but they, too, often have athletic builds and military backgrounds—a few look like football players but more look like baseball players.
The street-oriented black males the police encounter are different. Shirtless, large ("gentle giant" George Floyd was 6' 7") muscled, sweaty, sometimes high on drugs that make them impervious to pain, they are not concerned in the slightest with lawsuits, criminal charges, negative press coverage, being banned from social media, demotion, firing or dirty looks from nice old ladies.
All things, mind you, that are in the minds of white officers.
When they become enraged about something, a series of deep bass-toned barks emits from their diaphragm, sometimes unintelligible but repetitive and terrifying. They thrash around with ferocious power and speed in way that white men don’t. This display in the eyes of the white officer, played out under urban streetlights in the summer night, lights up the amygdala.
Often they go racial, bellowing about white muthafuckin’ police. Believe it or not, police in return keep their language firm but respectful. Pleas to calm down are met with “don’t tell me to muthafuckin’ calm down.”
De-escalation doesn’t happen.
You don’t want the job of getting them under control.
Of course, all of the foregoing is unmentionable. But it figures heavily into why white police react as they do.