Because wading into the gun control
debate in America seems to tacitly endorse its shrillest and most
partisan participants, most of us don't. And that's a shame.
A recent status update funnelled
through my Facebook news feed, for example, suggested that a friend
of mine had “[b]een trying to dodge the Fbook/Gun control shit
show, but...” and went on to depict a cute-and-funny gun-related
bumper sticker.
Even calling it a “debate” is a
stretch—sadly, “shit show” is, in fact, a fairer
characterization of the “conversation” now taking place.
Another Facebook user recently
commented, in response to a verbose but thoughtful post in support of
gun rights, thusly: “um
is this a history class or facebook? i need a frickin cocktail.
phew.” Sorry, no room for substance here. (Love, love, love the
response: “it depends on what you think facebook is used for. if
you think it should be for short silly things about dogs and cats,
then this is the wrong place for this [gun control] discussion.”
Hear, hear.)
Sadly, our new media world, dominated
by Facebook, Twitter, texting, and tagging, has coarsened political
discourse in America in two significant ways.
Firstly, it affords little room for
nuance, for substance, for the recognition that many thorny political
issues are complex, multi-faceted dilemmas. How can you share a
nuanced perspective in 140 characters on Twitter? How can you make a
persuasive argument on a bumper sticker, or on a road-side billboard?
You can't. You don't. Sure, you can hyperlink to your blog, or
somebody else's, where you can pontificate across as many virtual
pages as your heart desires, but how much of the mainstream does this
really penetrate?
A bias against verbosity and substance
permeates Facebook's every nook and cranny—from the way the app is
designed, to the peer pressure that governs commenting etiquette.
People don't want to talk about serious issues on Facebook, at least
not in America—they want to share “silly things about dogs and
cats.” Serious issues are uncomfortable, unless they're delivered
in a way designed to discourage actual discourse. They are, in fact,
what we're seeking to avoid when we run into the arms of our new
media gadgets. Reading a newspaper is laborious. Grazing Facebook
and Twitter is relaxing.
How many substantive, thoughtful
arguments, for any contemporary political or social issue, have you
recently read on Facebook, or Twitter? And then: how many snide,
stereotyping, exaggerating comments have you read, from ranting
partisans, sarcastically referencing “our tax dollars hard at
work,” or pillorying “the gun nuts,” or snidely lamenting “so
much for global warming.”
In the age of copy/paste, why bother
composing any original content or argument at all? Simply click your
mouse to share that mindless info-graphic lambasting Mitt Romney (or
Barack Obama, or the villain of the day) that you found in your news
feed. Share. Re-tweet. Even the very design of the devices we use
most often to bat this banter around seems to demand brevity and
encourage the trivial—how many times have you typed out War and
Peace on one of those tiny
keyboards?
Secondly, and perhaps more importantly,
these instant-gratification vehicles seem especially effective at
facilitating echo-chamber dialog. Preaching to the choir. “Let me
get this straight... [insert disingenuous comparison]... I think
it's time to re-examine our nation's morals” is not an effort to
persuade or convince—it's designed to rile those who already agree
with you. If you hate Barack Obama (or Mitt Romney, Paul Ryan,
Barney Frank, etc., etc.) and think (consciously or subconsciously)
that I share this sentiment, why would you bother explaining to me
your hatred? Your anti-[insert politician] rant on Facebook isn't
intended to speak to the portion of your friend pool that disagrees
with you, or that might yet have no opinion on the matter—you know
they'll simply scroll through your rant and give it little thought
(if they haven't already removed you from their news feed). It's
designed to elicit the mindless “like times a million” and
“couldn't agree more” and “yeah, what he said” and “EXACTLY”
comments. These are the currency of the medium—the squirts of
dopamine and ego-boost that keep us going as we trudge through the
workday.
Liberals talk to liberals, and
conservatives talk to conservatives, via bumper stickers,
info-graphics, and mindless platitudes. And the rest of us post
links to laughing baby videos, and humblebrags,
and photos of our kids being cute.
So, here's my contribution:
I believe that the constitution's
framers intended the right to bear arms literally and liberally, but
not completely devoid of regulation. I believe that law-abiding
citizens should be able to own many types of guns, but not
military-grade assault
weapons. Yes, this requires sacrificing a “freedom” that
some may be reluctant to surrender, but remember that your right to
swing your fist ends at my nose. The state has a legitimate interest
in limiting gun ownership, to a reasonable degree. Sure, rational
beings can disagree on what constitutes a “reasonable degree,”
but both ends of the spectrum on this question (all or none) are
equally wrong, by definition.
It might be pithy (and magnanimous) to
quote
Benjamin Franklin and suggest that “those who sacrifice liberty
for security deserve neither,” but this glibly ignores the fact
that the entire social contract on which all modern democracies are
designed fundamentally represents this exact trade-off—we
reasonably trade away some freedoms accorded to us in our natural
state, in return for a more orderly, secure, and rational society.
As Hobbes put
it, life in the state of nature is “solitary, poor, nasty,
brutish and short.” A friend of mine (thanks, Mitch) recently
suggested that this natural state “can still be found in the modern
world, but it is more likely to be in West Africa.” Where I am
sure they would welcome Sean Hannity and Rush Limbaugh with open
arms.
On the other hand, I fully support
concealed-carry laws, and think CCW permits should be granted more
frequently. I believe (as asserted here,
attributed here)
that CCW permit holders commit crimes at lower rates than the general
population. And I believe the data that show a complex relationship,
but no direct correlation, between crime rates and increased gun
ownership.
I think that “gun-free
zones” are counterproductive, and that it's absurd to post
“gun-free zone” signs on college campuses and other public
buildings, foolishly offering criminals an invitation to do business.
I believe the
data that suggest that states (and nations) with more liberal gun
laws (i.e., permitting gun ownership) see fewer “hot burglaries”
(home invasions when the home is occupied at the time) than states
and nations with very limited gun ownership rights. I have no
sympathy for the simplistic assertion that eliminating guns
altogether will make us all safer.
I believe that the mainstream media's
perverse obsession with glamorous and gory crime obscures the fact
that violent
crime rates have been falling for years, and that mass shootings
are no more common today than they have been in the past, in spite of
the surge in gun
ownership and CCW permits—a clear negative correlation.
But I don't believe that guns kill
people. Guns being used irresponsibly and/or maliciously kill
people. So we shouldn't ban or eliminate guns. We should regulate
them, just as we regulate other things that, when used irresponsibly,
can harm people. Like cars. And nuclear waste. And food. And
drugs. And dangerous chemicals. And ATVs. And kitchen appliances.
And commercial food preparation. And barbers and hairdressers.
I believe that, thanks to the power of
the NRA and the complicity of politicians of all persuasions, the gun
industry enjoys an unparalleled free pass when it comes to
regulation. Why do we require
seat belts in cars but not trigger locks (or other reasonable
safeguards) on guns? Why does the gun
industry stand out as virtually the only industry with blanket
immunity from consumer litigation?
I also think it's silly to
suggest that the answer to school shootings is to post armed guards
in schools—that the answer to gun violence is to make gun laws
more permissive. This reasoning only makes sense if a) you're the
NRA and your objective is to promote gun sales and rile up your power
base, or b) you're sufficiently afraid that bad legislation
(excessively restricting the right to own a gun) will follow good
legislation (reasonably restricting the right to own a gun). Which
is the very same argument used by liberals to oppose reasonable
restrictions on abortion.
However, I also believe that a blanket
ban on guns of all kinds will be as effective as a ban on marijuana,
or heroin, or alcohol. I agree with the sentiment that “if we
outlaw guns, only outlaws will have guns.” But it should be
difficult to acquire a gun permit, with suitable background checks,
mental health histories, waiting periods, and other forms of light
regulation. The absurdity of the gun-show loophole should be exposed
as such, and eliminated.
Finally, I don't care if gun-related
legislation is implemented at the state level, or the federal level.
Any argument one way or the other is a disingenuous one, akin to the
same specious argument made by racists in the civil rights era
(remember “states' rights?”).
Altogether, these are my (varied and
nuanced) opinions on the gun control debate, from which both partisan
liberals and partisan conservatives can pluck something to mock and
hate. But, because all of that won't fit on a bumper sticker, these
words won't be read by many. Thank you for being one of the
minority.
The one time that I attempted to participate in a serious discussion on Facebook, things started out okay, but as my friend and I were reaching common ground, someone came into the conversation with an insult completely devoid of any value. At the time, I got angry and posted (then removed) some response that did not improve the situation.
ReplyDeleteLooking back, I think the heckler was uncomfortable with the discourse. We have become used to this three to ten word back-and-forth. When people start to examine the issues that we all have to deal with, it becomes increasingly difficult to see the problem as only having two distinct sides. Sadly, if your identity is linked to one of those sides, moving into the gray in-between threatens that identity.
When I am representing someone in a mediation or settlement conference, we don't stop trying when both sides have dug their heels in on one issue. We put it aside and look at everything else we need to resolve. By processing the surrounding issues that we can reach agreement, sometimes a resolution to the previously unresolved issue presents itself.
I think this relates to the gun control issue. We know that the issue of gun control is polarizing. I wouldn't suggest to avoid the conversation, but maybe the entry point is not where slogans prevail over discourse, but where there is some common ground (and nuance).
But hey, this is your blog, not mine, so I should leave it at that.
Thanks for your words. I hope all is well with you and your family. Drop a line when you're in town.
-toby
Thanks, Toby. Good points re: processing the surrounding issues.
DeleteI don't pretend that every public policy debate even *can* be a well-thought-out give-and-take discussion, with a kumbaya-type ending. But still--doesn't it feel like the superficial dominates the public square more than it used to? Or am I just getting old and crotchety? (hasn't every generation lamented the perceived faults of the next one?)
Same to you and yours. We might be in town late summer--will definitely look you up.