Guns, Violence and the American Way

America is once more in moral panic over mass shootings—especially in schools, where masks are no longer required for COVID-19, but flak vests for 5-year-olds aren’t such a bad idea. With the Supreme Court on the verge of deciding whether the Second Amendment allows gun owners to carry concealed weapons, and with some states tightening gun laws—with special emphasis on military assault-rifles—the violence of firearms is on everyone’s mind.

But a quick fix may prove elusive. Surely we would all benefit from having fewer guns in the hands of dangerous people. But there is an underlying problem, rarely acknowledged, about American violence itself—irrespective of how it is discharged. How else to explain Chicago, which bans assault weapons and “ghost guns,” and yet has among the highest murder rates in the country?

Guns are merely a symptom of a national crisis that is much trickier to regulate, in part because it is so fundamental to the American way. It may also explain why so many adamantly oppose surrendering their guns.

Put simply: America is a violent nation. Guns are used with deadly consequences, but even without them, Americans would still be drawn to violence. Many believe they are surrounded by unpardonable provocations. Nearly everything amounts to fighting words. Offenses are instantly taken. Few are willing to walk away. All manner of inventive reprisals materialize—arson, poison, doxing, revenge porn and yes, naturally, gunfire.

No surprise there. We live in a culture of aggressive verbs: knock-down-drag-out fights, no holds barred mortal combat, zero-sum encounters, winner-take-all struggles without taking prisoners, shooting first and asking questions later, scorching the Earth, rounding up possies and rushing to judgment.

Our sporting contests end in sudden death; our contracts conclude with kill fees.

What other Western nation talks like this—even in jest? We are an outlier not just in our slacker gun laws, but in our overall receptivity to violence. With such a high tolerance for guns, guts and gore, no wonder Hollywood showcases America as a perpetual backlot for ominous film noir.

We are an outlier not just in our slacker gun laws, but in our overall receptivity to violence.

Yes, at night, Prague has creepier and narrower cobblestone streets, but few Czechs get shot on them. (America is five times more deadly). Norwegians were once Vikings, but they are Norsemen no more. Actually, they can boast one of the lowest murder rates in Europe. Minnesotans, however, many of whom are of Norwegian descent, once referred to the defensive front of their vaunted Viking football team as the Purple People Eaters.

Football is a good illustration of what differentiates Americans from sports fans elsewhere. The rest of the world is obsessed with soccer, a game where a red card is doled out for player infractions, like tripping an opponent. Yellow flags are tossed in American football games, but not for actual fractures and brain injuries, which are typically accepted as fair game. Players are dressed not as athletes but as warriors, and fans thrill to the gladiatorial spectacle.

The Declaration of Independence spells it out—”life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” If Americans wish for happiness, they are on notice to hunt it down. The most successful Americans have mastered the art of pursuit—every man, woman and ungendered for their self. That’s why we frame our constitutional rights as quests for individual liberty and personal autonomy.

Such free-spirited pursuits are uniquely American. And there’s lots of jostling at the starting line; many get run off course.

The 1619 Project would be more convincing if it grounded the American experiment not in racism, but in aggression. America was tamed by muskets and, eventually, more lethal firepower. Native Indians were deemed collateral damage for Manifest Destiny. The American wilderness was conquered by wild white men.

Early emanations of American film and TV captured these conquests, with happy endings depicted with gunfights at the OK Corral. Such exports made their way across oceans and left lasting impressions about the American continent. Americans sure liked their guns. And they don’t seem repelled by dead bodies in places ironically named Tombstone.

All of these images—replayed on a loop, recycled and reimagined—have been internalized in the American psyche. It has warped our self-definition, and sullied our national character. When Europeans hear about our mass shootings, it conforms to the stereotype of gun-crazed Americans.

When Europeans hear about our mass shootings, it conforms to the stereotype of gun-crazed Americans.

Identity politics has had it all wrong: The problem is not white people dressing up as Indians during Halloween. It’s all those cowboy costumes and what they came to represent—a trigger-happy America, brazenly flashing holsters, always ready to draw. “You talking to me?” To be called a cowboy is to be pegged a loose cannon, unbounded by civilizing rules.

These cowboys roam freely, unconfined to region—whether in Houston, or on Houston Street.

All efforts to disarm America—if such a thing is even possible given its engrained gun culture—without addressing our ferocious violent streak that never runs out of ammo, is a false promise. Yes, we need to make gun ownership more exacting, with rigorous monitoring of mental and operational fitness. We also need better answers as to why military assault rifles are available for civilian purchase, or why magazine clips are a necessity for deer hunters.

At the same time, we shouldn’t casually dismiss the growing demand for concealed weapons for self-defense. Regardless of which state they live in or partisan divide they cross, Americans are getting a good look at their country, and they are justifiably frightened by what they see: “smash-and-grab” looting, skyrocketing crime statistics with irreconcilable calls to defund the police.

This newly progressive America, where social justice and actual justice are two separate things, is making the case for more guns, not fewer. A government can’t very well insist on regulating gun ownership while, at the same time, decriminalizing actual violence on the streets. The moral legitimacy for gun control is undermined when the police are handcuffed, their precincts set aflame.

By downgrading felonies to misdemeanors and imposing cashless bail, violent lawbreakers are returned to the streets to menace a defenseless public. For this reason, we can’t credibly deny gun ownership to those whose tax dollars are no longer earmarked for crime prevention, who are deputized, by default, to provide for their own safety.

Red State Americans won’t be lectured about guns when district attorneys fail to prosecute and imprison career criminals. Such twisted notions of equity has, improbably, made an already violent nation even more prone to criminality. If Americans are fated, by nature, to confront deadly force, then the innocent must be given a fighting chance, or law enforcement must enforce the law.

Thane Rosenbaum is a novelist, essayist, law professor and Distinguished University Professor at Touro University, where he directs the Forum on Life, Culture & Society. He is the legal analyst for CBS News Radio. His most recent book is titled “Saving Free Speech … From Itself.”