Fang
09-04-2009, 12:41 AM
http://230grain.com/images/articles/editorial.jpg
A Washington Post reporter recently jumped through the hurdles necessary to purchase and own a gun in Washington, D.C. and wrote the process into an article, which can be read in its full form here (http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/09/01/AR2009090103836.html).
Where the article deals with the requirements for buying a handgun in D.C., it's a well-written analysis of the hurdles thrown up by the sullen intransigence with which the city has complied with Heller v. D.C.
It's the obligatory navel-gazing where things get interesting. The author deserves credit for being open-minded enough to admit that he enjoyed shooting the gun and wants to keep it. But his vacillation on that subject and ultimate decision otherwise provides some insight into the mindset that chooses to eschew self defense when other alternatives are available.
I've been surrounded my whole life by people who see guns as a cause of social ill, not a cure. But what if they're wrong? I live in a dangerous part of a dangerous city. I've heard gunshots from my bedroom window clearly enough so there was no mistaking them for firecrackers. And then, about a month or so ago, my wife went out to her car and saw the glass on the ground and then the shattered window. Nothing can make you want a gun more than that sickening, helpless moment when you realize you are more vulnerable than you had thought.
Ostensibly, this seems like the start to any of the thousands of stories that end with the phrase, "so I bought a gun." Everyone comes to a realization at some point that the world is not a universally safe and friendly place, but look at what the author's account identifies as the crucial moment: not any of the many times he hears gunshots outside, not at a neighbor's attempted kidnapping, but when his wife's car is broken into. Any number of felonious events occur within his sphere of observation, but none of that spurs reflection until something actually happens to him.
Later, he weighs the pros and cons of keeping a gun around the house:
The chances of something bad happening with a gun in the house might very well outweigh the chances of using it effectively in that kill-or-be-killed situation. What's more likely: a Plaxico Burress-esque accidental discharge or a wild-eyed murdering-rapist crack addict breaking into the house?
Cost/benefit analysis is always good, but requires correct identification of the cost and benefits in order to be useful. Put another way, if you ask the right questions, you don't have to lie to get the answer you want. This is what the author is doing here. The benefit of having a gun is presented as being realized only under fantastic circumstances couched in hyperbolic terms; the drawback is represented by a real-life example.
To be fair, he goes on to examine the real-life circumstances. But note how these are distant things, outside the sphere of personal experience. Note also how he cites the attempted abduction and car break-in in the same sequence as before, with no call-back to the earlier text. The author himself doesn't notice he's saying the same thing over again.
While I'd love to believe I will never need, my wife and I have often seen drug dealers in our alley doing their business. To no avail, we have called the police. A couple of years ago, a neighbor was nearly abducted in front of her house. And then my wife's car was broken into while parked directly behind our house. Which led to another of the should-we-move-to-the-burbs discussions that have become more frequent of late. Once again, we talked about better lighting and alarm systems.
But is that enough, I wonder.
Something that eventually occurred to me after reading the above section several times was that the author mentions the inability of the police to respond to the drug dealers outside his house and three sentences later presents calling 911 as a viable option. Again, being fair, he then questions the viability of the option.
Even with the fastest of 911 responses, isn't a gun the only real protection in a doomsday scenario?
Like before, though, it's not a question, but an answer disguised as a question. In fact, it's the same question and answer. The scenario where a gun is useful is a "doomsday scenario."
If this seems tenuous, look at the envisioned scenario he immediately conjures--or, rather, returns to:
Still, I'm torn. Say the murdering-rapist crack addict is charging up the stairs, coming to get us. Would I, as he raises his gun, be able to fire mine?
Same hyperbolic adversary, except now he has a gun. There's no examination or explanation of the relevance or likelihood that the adversary will have a gun. One could argue that it's just a simple example and doesn't require a clinical dissertation on the circumstances in which the utility of a defensive weapon would be comprimised, and that would be fair. But it goes beyond the gun and the crackhead: The crackhead is charging up "the stairs." The author is referring to the layout of his house as if everyone understands what he's talking about, and it's not even necessary; instead of "up the stairs" he could just as easily have said "into the house." Whoever committed those words to paper never wondered whether someone else reading them would see the same picture he did. There was no objectivity brought to bear.
All of which raises perhaps the most difficult question of all: Does the gun indeed provide a much-needed layer of security in a dangerous city, or does it merely provide the perception of security?
This is an interesting question given his early statement, "Nothing can make you want a gun more than that sickening, helpless moment when you realize you are more vulnerable than you had thought." Before, actual events made him question his assumed security. Now, imagined scenarios are making him question the genuine benefits potentially provided by owning a gun.
My wife is adamant that that thing can't stay, and makes a compelling case that it's more likely to cause harm than to save us from it. And the more I think about keeping it, the more I'm convinced that the range is where the gun belongs.
Note the lack of explanation. His wife's arguments are compelling, and his thoughts lead him to conclude the gun should stay at the range. What are the arguments? What are the thoughts? His thinking could refer to the crackhead rapist murderer scenario put forth earlier, but this is the first time his wife has been mentioned as offering anything other than flat refusal.
Not here at home, where it feels out of place, an intruder that shakes our sense of peace more than bolstering it.
And finally, the crux of the matter: Peace and security are feelings, not objective states.
I'm glad that our hobby has gained another adherent, but I hope the author of the article, as he grows more comfortable with firearms, loses the feelings of fear and starts reasoning about how they can contribute to a net increase in personal safety.
A Washington Post reporter recently jumped through the hurdles necessary to purchase and own a gun in Washington, D.C. and wrote the process into an article, which can be read in its full form here (http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/09/01/AR2009090103836.html).
Where the article deals with the requirements for buying a handgun in D.C., it's a well-written analysis of the hurdles thrown up by the sullen intransigence with which the city has complied with Heller v. D.C.
It's the obligatory navel-gazing where things get interesting. The author deserves credit for being open-minded enough to admit that he enjoyed shooting the gun and wants to keep it. But his vacillation on that subject and ultimate decision otherwise provides some insight into the mindset that chooses to eschew self defense when other alternatives are available.
I've been surrounded my whole life by people who see guns as a cause of social ill, not a cure. But what if they're wrong? I live in a dangerous part of a dangerous city. I've heard gunshots from my bedroom window clearly enough so there was no mistaking them for firecrackers. And then, about a month or so ago, my wife went out to her car and saw the glass on the ground and then the shattered window. Nothing can make you want a gun more than that sickening, helpless moment when you realize you are more vulnerable than you had thought.
Ostensibly, this seems like the start to any of the thousands of stories that end with the phrase, "so I bought a gun." Everyone comes to a realization at some point that the world is not a universally safe and friendly place, but look at what the author's account identifies as the crucial moment: not any of the many times he hears gunshots outside, not at a neighbor's attempted kidnapping, but when his wife's car is broken into. Any number of felonious events occur within his sphere of observation, but none of that spurs reflection until something actually happens to him.
Later, he weighs the pros and cons of keeping a gun around the house:
The chances of something bad happening with a gun in the house might very well outweigh the chances of using it effectively in that kill-or-be-killed situation. What's more likely: a Plaxico Burress-esque accidental discharge or a wild-eyed murdering-rapist crack addict breaking into the house?
Cost/benefit analysis is always good, but requires correct identification of the cost and benefits in order to be useful. Put another way, if you ask the right questions, you don't have to lie to get the answer you want. This is what the author is doing here. The benefit of having a gun is presented as being realized only under fantastic circumstances couched in hyperbolic terms; the drawback is represented by a real-life example.
To be fair, he goes on to examine the real-life circumstances. But note how these are distant things, outside the sphere of personal experience. Note also how he cites the attempted abduction and car break-in in the same sequence as before, with no call-back to the earlier text. The author himself doesn't notice he's saying the same thing over again.
While I'd love to believe I will never need, my wife and I have often seen drug dealers in our alley doing their business. To no avail, we have called the police. A couple of years ago, a neighbor was nearly abducted in front of her house. And then my wife's car was broken into while parked directly behind our house. Which led to another of the should-we-move-to-the-burbs discussions that have become more frequent of late. Once again, we talked about better lighting and alarm systems.
But is that enough, I wonder.
Something that eventually occurred to me after reading the above section several times was that the author mentions the inability of the police to respond to the drug dealers outside his house and three sentences later presents calling 911 as a viable option. Again, being fair, he then questions the viability of the option.
Even with the fastest of 911 responses, isn't a gun the only real protection in a doomsday scenario?
Like before, though, it's not a question, but an answer disguised as a question. In fact, it's the same question and answer. The scenario where a gun is useful is a "doomsday scenario."
If this seems tenuous, look at the envisioned scenario he immediately conjures--or, rather, returns to:
Still, I'm torn. Say the murdering-rapist crack addict is charging up the stairs, coming to get us. Would I, as he raises his gun, be able to fire mine?
Same hyperbolic adversary, except now he has a gun. There's no examination or explanation of the relevance or likelihood that the adversary will have a gun. One could argue that it's just a simple example and doesn't require a clinical dissertation on the circumstances in which the utility of a defensive weapon would be comprimised, and that would be fair. But it goes beyond the gun and the crackhead: The crackhead is charging up "the stairs." The author is referring to the layout of his house as if everyone understands what he's talking about, and it's not even necessary; instead of "up the stairs" he could just as easily have said "into the house." Whoever committed those words to paper never wondered whether someone else reading them would see the same picture he did. There was no objectivity brought to bear.
All of which raises perhaps the most difficult question of all: Does the gun indeed provide a much-needed layer of security in a dangerous city, or does it merely provide the perception of security?
This is an interesting question given his early statement, "Nothing can make you want a gun more than that sickening, helpless moment when you realize you are more vulnerable than you had thought." Before, actual events made him question his assumed security. Now, imagined scenarios are making him question the genuine benefits potentially provided by owning a gun.
My wife is adamant that that thing can't stay, and makes a compelling case that it's more likely to cause harm than to save us from it. And the more I think about keeping it, the more I'm convinced that the range is where the gun belongs.
Note the lack of explanation. His wife's arguments are compelling, and his thoughts lead him to conclude the gun should stay at the range. What are the arguments? What are the thoughts? His thinking could refer to the crackhead rapist murderer scenario put forth earlier, but this is the first time his wife has been mentioned as offering anything other than flat refusal.
Not here at home, where it feels out of place, an intruder that shakes our sense of peace more than bolstering it.
And finally, the crux of the matter: Peace and security are feelings, not objective states.
I'm glad that our hobby has gained another adherent, but I hope the author of the article, as he grows more comfortable with firearms, loses the feelings of fear and starts reasoning about how they can contribute to a net increase in personal safety.