Tag Archives: gun violence

Fearing Fear Itself

It sometimes seems to me that the media environment surrounding me is getting increasingly fear inducing. Should our American predilection for gun violence have me quaking in my shoes? Is another deadly pandemic inevitable? Should I be afraid of the overwhelming consequences of irreversible climate change? Is our political system broken beyond repair? To help provide context and retain some sense of balance, I look for historical parallels and trends rather than just following the headlines or lead story:  

—Colonial America had more endemic violence than we see now. Dueling with pistols was then considered a socially acceptable means of “settling” disputes. Unfortunately, firearm deaths remain among major causes of death in the U.S., with the majority of those deaths being suicides. Rates vary considerably by locality and over time. After a U.S. low of under 29,000 fatalities in 1999 and 2000, the death toll again began to climb. Starting in 2015, it increased significantly, by 2021 exceeding 48,000. However, because of population growth, the gun death rate of 14.6 gun deaths per 100,000 people in 2021 was still below the prior peak of 16.3 gun deaths per 100,000 people in 1974. 

—During the 2020-2023 covid pandemic, losses were immense, but the global death toll, estimated at 5 to 6 million, was just over 10% of the estimated toll of the prior 1918-1920 influenza pandemic. Both pandemics fell far short of the catastrophic losses from bubonic plague outbreaks that wiped out about a third of Europe’s human population during the 14th century. 

—Erratic weather events seem to have become more frequent, yet warning systems, preparation, and remediation resources have also improved. In 1900, a hurricane all but obliterated Galveston, Texas. The storm killed an estimated 10,000 people, primarily because there were inadequate weather warnings.

—We certainly have a current crop of crooked politicians and political shenanigans, but the respective eras of “Boss Tweed” of NYC’s Tammany Hall and later “Kingfish” Huey Long of Louisiana could run contemporary political machinations a close second. 

In our current round of political theater, have we allowed ourselves too often, though, to be frightened by our supposed differences, be they political party, ethnicity, gender, or any other category? It may now sadly be a somewhat realistic fear to fear those who for political gain try to incite us to fear each other.   

Our most famous U.S. political quote about the toxicity of fear comes from Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s first inaugural address in March, 1933. Then, the nation’s economy was reeling after a 1929 stock market crash and several years of deepening economic dysfunction. FDR was a seasoned politician and also someone who had made an arduous recovery from the paralyzing polio he’d contracted in 1921. Without downplaying the dire state of the economy, he spoke to rally our citizenry by beginning with the need to reduce fear: 

“So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”  

He then went on to outline actions for restoring trust (there’s a reason many banks have “trust” as part of their names) and for minimizing further panic (there’s also a reason that financial panics are called “panics.”)

A recent explanation of the importance of not succumbing to fear comes from a 2018 book that helped get me through covid isolation: Factfulness. Authored by former Sweden-based global health researcher, professor and statistician Hans Rosling, the book evaluates a whole set of instinctual responses that can distort our human reactions to situations and events. Fear is one of the most insidious. 

Anecdotally, Rosling describes his initial reaction while coping as a young emergency room physician with his first trauma event, a downed, incoherent pilot. Temporarily short of more seasoned backup, Rosling’s initial reaction was fear-driven: 

“…(M)y head quickly generated a worst-case scenario. … I saw what I was afraid of seeing [a Russian intruder signaling the start of World War III]. Critical thinking is always difficult, but it’s almost impossible when we are scared. There’s no room for facts when our minds are occupied by fear.”  

Fortunately for Rosling and for his patient, an experienced nurse soon returned from her lunch break and identified the real problem [a Swedish pilot whose training mission had ended with a ditched plane and resulted in hypothermia]. She reclaimed the situation before the young doctor’s fear response resulted in serious errors. 

Rosling also provides statistical evidence contrasting what we find frightening and what our actual risks may be: “This chapter has touched on terrifying events: natural disasters (0.1 percent of all deaths), plane crashes (0.001 percent), murders (0.7 percent), nuclear leaks (0 percent) and terrorism (0.05 percent). None of them kills more than 1 percent of the people who die each year, and still they get enormous media attention.”

Per Rosling, we all need to become better at distinguishing between what we find frightening and what is truly dangerous. He elaborates: “The world seems scarier than it is because what you hear about it has been selected—by your own attention filter or by the media—precisely because it is scary.” We need to evaluate situations based both on the actual danger and on our level of exposure to that danger. 

In conclusion, he offers this suggestion: “Get calm(er) before you carry on.”  Good advice for troubling times. 

Further Stories from the Gun Wars

Nearly ten years ago, I sat down and poured out some of my despair and frustration at America’s difficulties in coping with gun violence in an essay to a few friends. Then, the mass shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut that killed 20 first graders and 6 faculty members was coming up on its first anniversary. Activists all along the spectrum of opinions about appropriate and inappropriate gun uses and gun restrictions were ramping up pressure for change.

My heart is again breaking after a shooting at a Richmond, Virginia high school graduation site in a city where I’d spent much of my adult life. The episode killed a father and his newly graduated son and wounded multiple others.

A decade on, not enough about our approach to gun violence has changed. Some rules about gun purchases have been tightened, but gun deaths from homicides, suicides, and accidents, after multiple years of relative decline, are again on the rise. So are mass shootings. 

Some progress has been made in providing preventive counseling and mental health services to those most at risk. An increasing number of jurisdictions are crafting “red flag” laws, allowing relatives or authorities to petition courts to temporarily remove or restrict firearms use by persons deemed a danger to themselves or others.

Too much of our gun violence debate consists of folks with well-entrenched views talking past each other. At events and informal meetings, I’ve had chances to listen to folks whose views are diametrically opposed to mine. Whatever we disagree on, we seem to share some basic assumptions:  

1) the death or maiming of anyone through misuse of a firearm is tragic and has long-term consequences for survivors; 

2) everyone wants to be able to keep him/herself and family and loved ones safe; 

3) we cannot through legislation alone prevent instances of inappropriate use of guns.  

There are no ready-made or easy solutions to the problem of gun violence in America. According to The Trace, a non-profit journalism site dedicated to reporting on gun violence in America, a gun industry trade group estimated in 2020 that there were about 434 million civilian owned guns in the United States (https://www.thetrace.org/2023/03/guns-america-data-atf-total/#:~:). 

Properly maintained, a gun can function for as long as a century. Properly stored, ammunition has almost as much shelf life. Estimates of number of guns stolen vary substantially, with a 2015 Harvard study indicating about 380,000 guns stolen that year, risk factors being “owning 6 or more guns, owning guns for protection, carrying a gun in the past month, storing guns unsafely, and living in the South region of the United States.” (https://dash.harvard.edu/handle/1/32630640). Given the vast number of firearms and the difficulty of tracing some of them, even if we further tighten loopholes in background checks, restrict sales of certain kinds of guns and ammunition, and limit locations where guns can legally be taken, we will still have a substantial reservoir of guns that in the wrong hands or under the wrong circumstances can do deadly harm. 

Our inability to completely solve the problem makes it doubly foolish, I believe, to act as if there is nothing further we can do. Though the same gun statistics can suggest different outcomes to people with different backgrounds and biases, we rarely have authoritative data about guns and their uses. For starters, we need to obtain and to publicize more reliable, complete statistics about the extent of gun production, gun sales, gun ownership, thefts, and gun uses in the U.S. as a baseline. (A partial repository of U.S. gun violence data has been kept since 2013 by the non-profit, non-partisan Gun Violence Archive: https://www.gunviolencearchive.org/about).   

Another way to work toward resolving our gun violence problem is through personal stories. We need to continue to share our gun-related stories, quietly but firmly, without demonizing the opposition or suggesting that we have the only answers.  Here are two of the gun violence stories most compelling for me:

“Teedy”(Thornton Glen Berryman) was the adult son of close neighbors and friends in the working class inner city Richmond, Virginia neighborhood where I lived during the 1980’s and 90’s. His gun murder was my first exposure to that sort of death for someone I actually knew. Teedy was killed in a gangland style shooting in December, 1992. His murder may have been related to the crack cocaine epidemic that exploded in the U.S. around that time, hitting urban neighborhoods especially hard. He had been missing for two days when his bullet-pierced body was found by a stranger walking his dog. Teedy’s funeral was packed, but few people except those who knew the family paid the loss much attention. The media were mostly silent. Black-on-black violence (this was assumed) was considered a sad but unimportant footnote to wider American culture. His family has never stopped mourning the loss.

  When a deranged student at Virginia Tech in Blacksburg, Virginia opened fire on fellow students and staff on April 16, 2007, killing 32 and wounding 17 others in two separate shooting sprees before committing suicide, I was half a world away, teaching English in a remote area of northwest China. News of the shooting reached us slowly. One of our children had earlier attended Virginia Tech, so I was relieved when I learned that no students or faculty members he knew were among the victims. Still, no one with any association with Tech can totally forget that awful spring morning or avoid feeling for the families of those impacted. 

The Chinese government took maximum propaganda advantage of the Tech tragedy. America’s obsession with guns can be hard to explain to those in cultures where gun ownership is severely restricted. Why, my students wanted to know, if America was the home of the free and the brave, were so many misusing that freedom in cowardly episodes of killing each other and themselves? (China has a population nearly 5 times that of the U.S., and an overall homicide rate about a tenth as high. Civilian gun ownership or possession is strictly prohibited there.) 

Trying to “resolve” a dispute or a despondency through gun violence only adds to the resentments, distrust, and family and community dysfunction that are likely sooner or later to result in further violence. To reduce gun violence, we need to share both reliable information and personal stories, doing our best to avoid skewing or further inflaming the debate. We can educate ourselves and our loved ones about the appropriate uses of guns. We can minimize the chances that any gun we own will be stolen or misused. 

Despite our best efforts, there will continue to be isolated incidents of gun violence that we cannot totally prevent. There are assuredly more that, with  a better social fabric and better public policy, we can avoid. May Teedy and Tech provide cautionary tales, incorporated into more reliable, more transparent overall information. May we continue efforts on all sides to put our own experiences into a broader, more realistic perspective.    

This Year’s February 14

This Year’s February 14     —by Jinny Batterson

This morning the sun rose here earlier than the day before;
The poinsettias a neighbor gave me to nursemaid
After the Christmas holidays droop a bit, but still
Lavish red and pink accents on our late-winter
Condo. My husband sneaks a colorful set of earrings
Onto my place at the breakfast table. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Only this year we add a differently sanguine tradition:
Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School Remembrance Day.
Last year, this morning in Florida started out routine,
Even joyous, until lives were shattered by gunfire.
Does it matter whether the gunman was mentally ill?
Does it matter that he had access to a military-style weapon,
Designed and sold for no other purpose than killing humans?

At 10:17 a.m., schools and workplaces will observe a moment
Of silence, remembering slain students Alyssa, Martin, Nicholas,
Jaime, Luke, Cara, Gina, Joaquin, Alaina, Meadow,
Helena, Alex, Carmen and Peter. We’ll ponder whether
Any of us have the bravery or protective instincts of staff
Members Chris, Aaron, or Scott. We’ll continue to mourn, to
Question what we can do to reduce the chances that
Future holidays will also come to hold dual meanings.
Thoughts, prayers, silent vigils help. They’re not enough.

Additional steps are required. To honor their memories,  go a little
Beyond: Send a pointed Valentine message to your legislator.
Follow up with emails, maybe even visits. Make a donation.
Register and vote. Talk with those of different views.
Find the unique, universal core deep within you,
Then share it. Some holidays exist for us to reclaim.