Interview with Debbie Platz

Can you summarise your time at the Institute of Criminology?

When I began travelling from Australia to Cambridge, I was so excited. But I had no real idea as to what it would be like.

When the car first drove me to Cambridge and they said, “ok, where do you want to go?”, I said, “just take me to the University of Cambridge”. And they said “yeah, but where?” and I said, “well, the front of the university”. Because in Australia, the universities are just one campus, unlike Cambridge, where the whole city is the campus. So, I was surprised when I got there the first time about the expanse of the university.

It felt quite special. There’s history everywhere, but the city is alive and forward‑looking — you can step through the historical King’s College and suddenly be surrounded by cutting‑edge research and educational facilities.

The people were fantastic as well. All of our lecturers were highly respected criminologists who’d done extensive research, published widely, and worked closely with policing and corrective services organisations around the world. It created so many opportunities to learn, and we’ve stayed in touch — we still reach out when we need advice or ideas. That ongoing connection has been a really valuable bonus.

I also have to say that, for me, being there was a great experience on a personal level as well. I mentioned the River Cam — we went punting quite a bit — but we also spent time enjoying the restaurants, the pubs, and the commons. That side of the experience really enriched the learning for me and made the time there even more meaningful.

Why did you decide to study for an MSt?

This really began when I was working for an Assistant Commissioner in the police. He was deeply academic, but also approachable and genuine, and that combination influenced the way I thought about leadership and policing. At the time, I was responsible for a large area facing significant challenges — high crime, dense housing, and a concentration of nightclubs and bars that added complexity to the work.

More broadly, crime rates across Queensland were rising, while community confidence in policing was declining. That disconnect was deeply concerning, because effective policing depends on trust. Without it, even the best‑intentioned efforts are harder to sustain. It was a demanding period, but it also prompted important reflection about how policing needed to evolve.

One day, out of the blue, the Assistant Commissioner sent me a short email. It simply said, “Opportunity knocks!! Come and see me.” My first reaction was that this probably meant more work. Still, I went to see him, and that conversation turned out to be a turning point.

He told me he wanted to establish what became the Australian and New Zealand Society of Evidence‑Based Policing. At the time, I didn’t fully grasp what he meant, but he spoke about the importance of understanding the causes and patterns of crime, and about using evidence to prevent it more effectively.

He then asked how I would feel about taking on the role of secretary. Privately, I wasn’t sure — but I said yes. Through that decision, I met academic colleagues at the University of Queensland who had links with the Institute in Cambridge. We began working together, and I became deeply interested in applied criminology — particularly the idea that policing decisions could be grounded in evidence about what truly works, rather than assumption or tradition.

So, I applied for the Cambridge Master's. I was lucky enough to get one of the Wakefield scholarships to go.

Why did you choose to go to Cambridge?

I’ve always had a strong interest in victim‑based crime. A lot of my career was spent working in areas like child protection, domestic and family violence, child exploitation, human trafficking and modern slavery. For me, it’s always come back to one core question — how do we actually reduce the number of victims?

The institute also has a strong global reputation, with police from all over the world coming through its programs. Because the course focuses on applied criminology, everything is grounded in real‑world evidence. You bring your own experience with you, but you’re also encouraged to challenge it, to question assumptions and stay genuinely curious.

I’ll admit, one of the most daunting parts was writing to the academic standard expected at Cambridge. I’d completed postgraduate study at Australian universities, but the level of rigour was on another scale. It was challenging, but ultimately a really positive and rewarding learning experience.

What was your MSt thesis?

My thesis was a randomised controlled trial, which was something I was particularly keen to undertake. I had not previously been involved in an RCT, and I was drawn to the rigour and discipline it brings to decision‑making. At the time, there had been fewer than 60 RCTs conducted in policing globally, highlighting how underutilised this approach was in the field.

Policing is often necessarily reactive, with a tendency to rely on practices that have been used before and appear to work in the short term. Research requires a different mindset — one that allows time for structured inquiry, testing, and evidence. That contrast reinforced for me the value of investing in robust methods to understand what genuinely works, rather than relying on assumptions or past practice alone. My supervisor Dr Heather Strang really supported my thesis to ensure it was meaningful.

The idea for the thesis really stemmed from time I spent studying at the FBI Academy in Quantico. One of the programs focused on recognising problematic behaviours early and intervening before they escalate. As part of that, participants visited the Holocaust Museum in Washington alongside a survivor, specifically examining the role of police — both those who protected people and those who did not. The program closed with a facilitated discussion on policing ethics and the responsibility that comes with taking an oath to protect.

It was incredibly powerful. When I returned to Australia, I raised it with the Police Commissioner, who had also completed the program and shared that view. While we weren’t going to replicate it in Washington, we began exploring whether a similar approach could be adapted locally. That was the point where I started asking a more strategic question — does this type of training actually change behaviour, and can we measure its impact?

The thesis I ended up doing was on the impact of a values-based education programme in a police recruit training academy, in conjunction also with the University of Queensland.  We randomised the recruits, of which we had about 260 at that time, into experimental and control groups when they entered the academy.

The experimental group were then given a values training programme, and both them and the control group were tracked over a period of time. The purpose was to see whether or not they could recognise poor behaviours and whether or not they would actually intervene in them. The university designed and validated a survey that would test whether or not recruits could recognise poor behaviours in the workplace. It looked at sexual harassment, discrimination, gender bias, racism, and surveyed all the recruits.

Going into it, my assumption was that this training would really sharpen people’s ability to spot poor behaviour and step in early. But that’s not what we saw. At the start of the academy, people across both groups could already recognise those behaviours. What was surprising — and concerning — was that over time, both recognition and willingness to intervene actually declined, more in the control group than in the group given the course.

That prompted us to look more closely at what was happening. We found a mix of contributing factors — things like assessment pressures, elements of police training culture, and behaviours that were being normalised, including jokes that weren’t being challenged. That led us to closely review the curriculum, check for bias, introduce unconscious bias training for staff, and then go back and rethink how the program itself could be strengthened to have a more meaningful impact.

The randomised control trial – my Master’s thesis – was published in a scientific journal with over 5,000 views. It has also been replicated, which is fantastic. Whilst I didn't actually get the outcomes from the training that I wanted, I probably got a better impact from doing the experiment, because I uncovered things that were really important in how we train police.

What have you gone on to do since completing your MSt?

After that, I became involved in a range of research projects. One looked at the idea of a mobile police community office — essentially asking whether a mobile presence could deliver better outcomes in the community than a traditional, fixed police station. We ran that as a matched‑pairs experiment, and it worked incredibly well.

As a result, mobile police offices have since been rolled out more broadly across the service. We also examined how different organisations can work together in a way that genuinely integrates services, without anyone losing their identity. Another project focused on how we identify offenders using different types of forensic information.

I've also changed careers a bit since completing this course. I've gone from being an Assistant Commissioner in Queensland Police to Assistant Commissioner in the Federal Police, and then to Deputy Commissioner in the State Emergency Services. I now have the privilege to hold the role as the Human Rights Commissioner for Queensland.

How have you used what you learned at Cambridge in your work?

More recently, I worked as Deputy Commissioner for Emergency Services in New South Wales. One of the challenges we focused on was how to stop people from driving into floodwaters, using behavioural change strategies. It wasn’t a policing activity as such, but I was still able to apply the theory I’d learned to test whether a policy was likely to work — or potentially backfire. That way of thinking applies far beyond policing.

I also drew on it in broader research that wasn’t directly about crime, but about how police engage with communities — particularly how legitimacy is built by treating people fairly and giving them a genuine voice. In that sense, the course really shaped the way I think about how policing is done, not just what policing does

What would you tell somebody starting the Cambridge course who was uncertain about it?

I absolutely would say just go for it. I think that the Institute, and Cambridge more broadly, is a place that deliberately challenges your assumptions and avoids easy answers. As I said, the supervisors and the professors are world renowned, and they're the ones that actually make us think deeply and question what we know, to make justice better and community safer for everyone.

Everyone’s professional experience and perspective absolutely matter. The Institute absolutely drives that home, to make people feel like they have that sense of connection and belonging. But it also puts you into situations so that allow you to expand your knowledge and curiosity.