There's been a bit of screeching in the blogosphere about police brutality at the OccupyMelbourne protests. It's not something I can comment on, I wasn't there, but humans being what they are, it's not impossible to believe that not everyone there was perfectly rational and well behaved.

The only dealings I've ever had with the police is trying to talk my way out of yet another speeding fine (failed) having them scare the bejezus out of me when I was 13 and got caught shoplifting with friends from school (grounded for decades, but no charges) and the time I got pulled over for a roadworthy check in my first car (when I opened the bonnet the horn went off and wouldn't stop - I saw the funny side, they didn't).

I'm not unusual, most of us don't ever have much more contact than that with police, so reading about them spraying poor dumb hippies with capsicum spray at an otherwise peaceful, if slightly directionless protest, can easily colour our perceptions of an organisation we don't really know very well.

But today, as I was sitting outside, enjoying the day and working (sort of) a screaming domestic started a few doors up. It was terrifying to listen to, I could hear children crying, a woman screaming and a man yelling filthy, terrible abuse at them. Then they went quiet and he got louder. He was breaking things, it was hard to know if they were human things or not, but I was scared for them. Too scared to go myself to see if they were ok, so I picked up the phone and called the police. Turns out I wasn't the only one.

Within minutes two police cars arrived, three men and one woman walked straight up to the door we were all too afraid to go near. The guy came out yelling more filth at the cops, at the family inside, at himself. He told the cops they were cunts and motherfuckers, that they had no idea what his bitch was like, but if they did they wouldn't be bothering him, she was asking for everything she got and more.

If I've ever heard good reason for police brutality that would have been it.

But they weren't brutal, they were calm. They talked him down, got someone inside to check on the family and have spent, so far, about an hour with them. I have no idea what they're doing, nor should I, it's none of my business. But it is the business of the police. All those moments when humanity is at its worst and we're too scared to deal with it, that's their business.

At least 15% of Australian women have experienced physical or sexual violence by a partner, it's a sickening statistic and in the vast majority of cases, when the worst of it is occuring, the only people who can intervene are the police.They are the only ones who can or will step in and offer a way out, even if, as is sometimes the case, the offer is spurned.

I know they don't always get things right, I know they often can't do enough to protect the people involved, I know at times they get things very wrong and they should be called to account when they do. But listening to them deal with that poor family today, I have never been so glad that we have an effective police force, one that is able to deal with the private brutality that never makes it onto the front page of the papers. Because if they weren't around to do it, I would have had to, and there's no way that would have ended well.

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