LAPD cleared itself in the killing of Yong Yang. That’s the problem.

Last May, Yong Yang, a 40-year-old Korean-American man suffering from a mental illness, was fatally shot by LAPD Officer Andres Lopez. Police had been dispatched to help transport Yang to a hospital.
But when Yang, holding a kitchen knife, refused to let officers enter his home, the situation escalated. Police deemed the knife a threat and opened fire, killing him on the spot.

Nearly a year later, on April 8, the Los Angeles Police Commission ruled that while certain aspects of the incident were “out of policy,” the officer’s actions overall complied with LAPD guidelines. For the police, the term “out of policy” is a minor infraction. For the victim, it was a death sentence.

The commission’s decision relied heavily on an internal report prepared by the LAPD. The report largely deemed Officer Lopez’s tactics appropriate. The commission evaluated the case across three categories: tactics, firearm use, and use of deadly force. In the end, three of the five commissioners found the shooting justified, while two disagreed.

But the integrity of that conclusion is deeply compromised. The report at the center of the ruling was written by the LAPD, and the Use of Force Review Board (UOFRB) that vetted it is composed primarily of former LAPD personnel. The process was neither independent nor impartial. Was this truly a fair review—or just the department policing itself?

Yong Yang’s father, Min Yang, strongly criticized the decision, calling it a case of “the police justifying themselves.” He added that the timing and outcome seemed engineered to take advantage of the Korean-American community’s fading outrage. In fact, none of the officers involved in the shooting have faced suspension or disciplinary action—they continue to serve in active duty.

Police carry guns for one purpose: to protect the public. But that responsibility does not mean they can shoot whenever they feel threatened. The power to use deadly force demands the utmost restraint and precise judgment. “It was a fast-moving situation” cannot be a blanket excuse.

The Yang case reveals how LAPD tactics often default to lethal force instead of prioritizing de-escalation or non-lethal methods. Could officers not have closed the door, temporarily withdrawn, or used a Taser? The phrase “some policy violations” cannot explain away a man’s death.

And we must ask: if the victim had been white—or Black—would the outcome have been the same? For those who remember the case of George Floyd, this is not a rhetorical question.
Ultimately, it is LAPD Chief Jim McDonnell who holds the final authority on disciplinary action.

But McDonnell himself signed the report used as the basis for the commission’s decision. The commission, for its part, has no power to issue discipline—it can only assess whether policies and training were followed. In other words, the entire process remains confined within the LAPD’s internal ecosystem. There is no independent oversight, no civic check.

So what happens when the next case occurs? Who will hold the police accountable?

The Korean-American community has generally supported the LAPD’s law enforcement efforts. Even at the height of the “Defund the Police” movement, the community remained cautious and continued to support the police, prioritizing the safety provided by the police. But in the aftermath of this ruling, we must ask: is that safety truly guaranteed for all of us?

The LAPD Commission’s decision is a clear example of how public accountability can be evaded. There is no assurance that another Yong Yang won’t fall victim to the same system. That is why the Korean-American community must remain vigilant. This case is not over—it is only the beginning.

By Mooyoung Lee [lee.mooyoung@koreadaily.com]