Legal justification is the floor, not the ceiling, and this looks like a shooting that may clear the law while still failing the craft, because a step to the right could have ended the threat without ending a life.
A memorial flyer bearing Renee Good's photo is taped to a street pole as protesters gather nearby in Minneapolis following the ICE shooting. Image Credit: NPR
Why the incident may be legally justified, tactically flawed, and avoidable
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While many people know me for my time in Ukraine, my primary MOS in the U.S. Army was military police. After active duty, I later worked as a police officer in Alaska. Use-of-force decision-making was not theoretical for me; it was central to how I was trained and evaluated.
Based on the footage and still imagery available, the ICE shooting in Minneapolis appears to meet the standard for legal justification. That should be stated plainly. A vehicle can constitute deadly force, and an officer positioned in front of a moving car can reasonably articulate fear for his life. At the moment the officer drew his weapon, the vehicle was clearly aligned toward him. The wheels were straight, and it appears the driver was preparing to accelerate. That perception of threat was real.
But legal justification does not mean the decision was a good one.
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(photo: screenshot, taken from X.com)
The same footage shows that the officer did not have to remain in the vehicle’s path. He was standing in an open area, not blocked in by physical barriers. There was space to his right. He could have stepped aside. He could have moved laterally. He could have dove to clear the vehicle’s path. None of those options were clean or without risk, but they were available. Instead, he chose to engage with lethal force. That decision is understandable given the fear of the moment, but it was not the best option available at the time.
The woman ignored commands. That is criminal behavior. It is not a death sentence. Law enforcement training exists precisely to deal with noncompliance without defaulting to lethal force when disengagement is still possible. The question here is not whether the officer was legally permitted to shoot, but whether he exercised sound judgment when other options still existed.
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(Photo: Taken from X.com via Fox)
There is also an important evidentiary issue that cannot be ignored. At this stage, the only shot that can be clearly accounted for on video is the first round, which appears to pass through the windshield while the officer is still in front of the vehicle, albeit angled in a way that suggests he could have moved clear. If that first shot caused the fatal injury, the government’s legal argument is far stronger, even if the decision itself remains tactically questionable.
However, if it is later determined that the fatal wound was caused by a second shot—one that likely entered through the driver-side window after the vehicle had already cleared the officer’s position—the justification becomes far more difficult to sustain. A lethal shot fired after the immediate threat has passed muddies the narrative entirely. At that point, the argument shifts from split-second self-defense to whether force was continued beyond necessity. That distinction matters legally, institutionally, and publicly.
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Until forensic findings are released, we should not speculate beyond what the evidence shows. But the possibility alone underscores how narrow the margin is once deadly force is introduced and how quickly a defensible situation can become indefensible.
Some reporting has claimed the officer had previously been struck by a vehicle earlier in 2025. If true, that history likely influenced how rapidly he perceived the situation as life-threatening. Prior experience shapes threat perception. That context helps explain the decision, but it does not make it the right one.
Once a firearm is discharged, everything accelerates. Expecting perfect restraint after the first shot is unrealistic. That reality does not absolve the initial choice to engage with lethal force rather than disengage when disengagement was still possible.
(Photo: Truth Social)
What has not helped is the political framing that followed. Claims that the officer was injured or forcefully struck by the vehicle during this encounter are not supported by the available footage. Exaggerating the threat after the fact does not protect law enforcement; it undermines credibility and public trust.
Equally unhelpful is the attempt by some right-wing media outlets to lionize the officer. This was not an act of heroism. It was a legally defensible decision made under fear, not a model of professional excellence. At the same time, nothing about this incident suggests the officer belongs in jail. What it does warrant is a serious performance evaluation and an honest review of training, tactics, and decision-making.
A woman is dead. She was a human being and a mother, not a political symbol. Her death should not be minimized by technicalities or weaponized for partisan ends.
This incident will not be resolved by legal clearance alone. The video will remain. The questions will remain. Supporting law enforcement does not mean excusing every decision made under stress. It means demanding better judgment from those entrusted with irreversible authority.
There is also a broader context that should be acknowledged. Policing has become a cultural battleground over the past decade, with officers increasingly portrayed as adversaries rather than public servants. That climate places fear closer to the surface during encounters like this. At the same time, when federal law enforcement is framed and deployed as an instrument of domestic political pressure rather than narrow enforcement, it changes how both officers and civilians perceive one another.
That environment matters. Officers who believe every encounter could end with viral footage, political condemnation, or career consequences are more likely to default toward force when stress spikes. Civilians who view federal agents as hostile actors rather than neutral authorities are more likely to resist, provoke, or flee. The result is a cycle in which distrust heightens fear, and fear degrades judgment.
In a healthier climate, one where law enforcement is neither demonized nor politicized to serve broader agendas, this encounter likely would not have escalated to the use of lethal force. That does not absolve individual decisions, but it helps explain why situations like this unfold the way they do.
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