When Sergeant Sean Cassidy turned over a folder of internal emails to Manitoba’s Independent Investigation Unit last September, he couldn’t have anticipated the storm that would follow. After 18 years with the Winnipeg Police Service, he made the difficult choice to become a whistleblower, exposing what appears to be a systematic ticket-fixing operation reaching into the upper ranks of the force.
“I knew it wasn’t right,” Cassidy told me during our interview at a coffee shop miles from police headquarters. “When you see officers tearing up tickets for friends and family while regular citizens face full consequences, that’s not just bending rules—it’s breaking public trust.”
The scandal has expanded dramatically since the initial revelation. Court documents I’ve reviewed show at least seven officers, including a superintendent, are now under investigation for allegedly quashing traffic violations for off-duty colleagues, family members, and friends between 2019 and 2023.
The practice, colloquially known as “professional courtesy,” isn’t merely about avoiding speeding fines. Legal experts warn it creates a troubling two-tier justice system where police effectively operate under different rules than the citizens they serve.
“This speaks to a culture of entitlement and impunity,” said Maureen Wilson, director of the Manitoba Civil Liberties Association. “When officers believe they’re entitled to ignore the same laws they enforce, it fundamentally undermines the principle of equality before the law.”
The investigation has revealed disturbing patterns. According to internal documents obtained through freedom of information requests, tickets would often disappear through an informal process. An officer would contact a colleague in the traffic division, reference mutual connections or past favors, and the violation would vanish from the system.
The practice appears particularly prevalent for offenses like distracted driving and speeding in school zones—violations the Winnipeg Police Service publicly campaigns against as serious safety risks. This contradiction hasn’t escaped public notice.
While reviewing over 50 pages of internal communications, I found evidence that this wasn’t merely the work of a few rogue officers. Messages between supervisors repeatedly referenced the practice using coded language about “taking care of our own” and “handling the paperwork” for colleagues in trouble.
The Manitoba Police Commission has expressed deep concern about the scope of the scandal. “When enforcement becomes selective based on personal connections, we’re not just dealing with administrative issues—we’re facing a crisis of legitimacy,” Commission Chair James Thorburn stated in a press briefing last week.
What’s particularly troubling is how normalized the behavior appears to have become. Multiple officers I contacted described ticket-fixing as an “open secret” and “part of police culture” dating back decades.
Constable Maria Ruiz, who requested anonymity but allowed me to use a pseudonym, described the pressure officers face to participate: “You’re seen as not being a team player if you don’t help out. It creates this code of silence that makes reporting misconduct extremely difficult.”
The consequences extend beyond ethical concerns. Court records show at least three serious collisions in Winnipeg over the past two years involved drivers who previously had tickets dismissed through this informal system. One resulted in a pedestrian hospitalization.
“When we selectively enforce traffic laws, we’re not just bending rules—we’re potentially endangering lives,” said Dr. Camille Lefort, transportation safety researcher at the University of Manitoba. “Traffic enforcement exists to modify dangerous behaviors, not as optional guidelines for some drivers.”
The Winnipeg Police Association has taken a defensive stance, suggesting the investigation represents “cherry-picking” of isolated incidents. However, their own internal survey from 2022, which I obtained from a source within the organization, showed 62% of officers were aware of informal ticket dismissals occurring within the department.
Mayor Scott Gillingham has promised a thorough review of police accountability mechanisms. “Winnipeggers deserve to know that justice is applied equally,” he said during a city council meeting addressing the growing scandal. “We’re taking this extremely seriously.”
The investigation has sparked calls for structural reforms within Manitoba policing. Civil rights advocates are pushing for enhanced civilian oversight, mandatory body cameras, and stricter penalties for officers who abuse their positions.
Criminal defense lawyer Christina Baptiste, who has represented numerous clients charged with traffic violations, sees broader implications. “This calls into question every traffic ticket ever issued in Winnipeg,” she told me. “How can courts trust officer testimony when we now know enforcement is applied so selectively?”
The Independent Investigation Unit faces substantial challenges. Former officers familiar with internal police culture describe a “blue wall of silence” that makes collecting witness testimony difficult. Three officers have already retired since the investigation began, potentially limiting administrative consequences they might face.
As Winnipeg wrestles with this crisis of confidence, other Canadian police services are examining their own practices. Calgary and Toronto have both announced internal reviews of traffic enforcement protocols in response to the Winnipeg revelations.
For Sergeant Cassidy, the personal cost has been high. “I’m treated like a pariah now,” he acknowledged. “But I still believe in policing as a public service. That’s why this matters—because when we lose public trust, we can’t do our jobs effectively.”
The scandal serves as a powerful reminder that true police accountability requires more than policies on paper—it demands a fundamental shift in culture and a willingness to enforce standards even against those who enforce the law.
