Politicians and Other Sadists

A few weeks ago, there were a lot of news stories about the CEO of the National Rifle Association (NRA), Douglas Hamlin. When Hamlin was in college, he and some of his fraternity brothers tortured a cat to death. At the time, the story received quite a bit of coverage in the local news, with outraged citizens calling for harsh punishments.

The young men did not receive harsh punishments. They had to move out of the fraternity house, but were not expelled from school. Apparently, they paid small fines and were sentenced to community service.

Every article I have seen about this, whether from the time of the crime, or current, has included a description of what these monsters did to that cat. I'm sorry to have that knowledge. I will not repeat it here. Anyone who wants the disgusting details can look it up.

Some people say that this guy shouldn't be penalized for one thing he did over 40 years ago. I say that it probably wasn't an isolated incident. Animal abusers tend to start small and get worse over time. This was such an over-the-top act, it is impossible to imagine that it was the first - or only - time for the participants. Further, sadism is typically just one part of a psychopathology or a personality disorder that rarely improves.

People with antisicial personality disorder display a long-term pattern of disdain for others and violations of others' rights. It is probably no coincidence that a sadistic personality rose to a high position in an organization that habitually minimizes the suffering and deaths of thousands of human beings, and that asserts a "right" that it champions over the right to life.

Links:

• NRA faces pressure to suspend CEO Warning: this article includes gruesome details near the end.

• The Republican Pet Killing Brigade Note: Contains minor details about violent acts.

• Animal Cruelty Facts

 

More Teachers With Guns

I've written about teachers and guns before, but it's a topic that just won't go away. As Tennessee passed a law allowing teachers to carry concealed weapons on campus, people on social media reacted:

At my university, there was a math professor who got fired after repeatedly urinating on another math professor's office door. I can only imagine the scenario if the two of them had guns.

On another occasion, there was a student in one of my classes who got very angry at the professor, and they started arguing. The student was a tall, muscular young man; Prof was middle aged and flabby. Student was intimidating, looming over Prof and getting really loud. Prof stood his ground, but from my front row seat, I could see he was afraid. I hate to think what would have happened if Prof was armed and felt the need to defend himself, or if Student was armed and felt the need to eliminate what he sincerely saw as someone treating him wrong. Fortunately, the confrontation ended peacefully when another student intervened verbally, inspiring the angry student to leave the room.

Stand Your Ground

On the surface, the idea of "stand your ground" seems sensible. It seems right and natural to defend yourself from an attacker.

The problem is with people who defend themselves, not from an actual attacker, but from their own feelings. They say they were scared or "felt threatened". Those feelings are inside of the person who feels them, and are not the responsibility of someone else. Yet they are often used to justify killing a human being who was unarmed and behaving normally, a human being whose "threatening" behavior consisted of asking a question or getting out of a car or staying inside a car or running away or standing still.

All too often it seems that the threatening behavior consisted of having dark skin. I believe that some people do genuinely feel fear when they see a person with brown skin. Sometimes that fear becomes a terror so powerful it causes them to hallucinate. They "see" a weapon that isn't there, a threatening gesture that wasn't made. It's an irrational fear, like a phobia, and it is not reasonable to kill other people because we have phobias. ^@realrkwest

Teachers With Guns

I wrote this in 2015, but unfortunately, it's still about current events

Whenever there is a school shooting, many people suggest that lives would be saved if teachers were armed.

I'm a teacher on a college campus. I can imagine exactly what would happen if the school decided I should have a gun in the classroom.

First, I can easily pass a background check. I have no criminal record and no history of mental illness. Buying me a gun shouldn't present any problems. (But this may not be true for all teachers at all schools.)

Next, I'll just assume that the school pays to provide me with proper training, and that I do reasonably well in target practice. The cost of guns and training for all teachers, as well as the likely increase in insurance premiums, may be prohibitive for an already cash-strapped institution. But for this story, let's pretend that the school can afford this without having to cut back on books and supplies or fire some of the maintenance workers.

Now I have a gun at school. Where will I keep it? A locked cabinet would be a safe place, but it wouldn't do me much good if a gunman burst into the room. I can't keep the gun in a desk drawer or in my book bag, since it would be too easy for a mischievous or malevolent person to get it. So I guess I'll have to wear it in a holster on my hip. Will my new security-guard look support the comfortable, nurturing relationship I have with my students? Hard to say.

Next let's imagine that the worst happens and some sick loser decides to shoot up the school. If he bursts into my classroom, guns at the ready, it is unlikely I will have time to draw my weapon. He will get the first shot, and that will be that. In fact, this was the first objection my students raised when I asked them if they would feel safer if I had a gun. They pointed out that a killer who knew that teachers were armed would intentionally target me first. That wasn't a comforting thought for any of us.

In a slightly different scenario, the killer starts shooting in the classroom next to mine, and I'm aware of what is happening. I might try to help the occupants of that room by running over there with my gun. But I probably won't be very effective. I don't know exactly where the shooter is in the room -- and I don't want to accidentally shoot a student -- so I'll need at least a tiny bit of time to find my target and aim. At the same time, I'm coming through the doorway, which makes me a nicely framed target for a guy who already has his guns out and doesn't share my concern about collateral damage.

Maybe my students and I can just crouch behind our desks and wait. I'll aim my gun at the door, ready to take out the shooter as he enters. At this point, the question might be, do I have the heart to pull the trigger? I do. But I had better be a really good shot. I'll probably have just one chance to bring this guy down. I'll only have time for one shot. If I miss, that's it. My handgun against his semi-automatic rifle is no contest.

At this point, some people might suggest that having even more guns in the classroom would solve the problem. What if some, or all, of my students were armed? Couldn't they simply overwhelm the gunman with their collective firepower?

Maybe. And in that tiny classroom, in an atmosphere of terror and chaos, there will be any number of stray bullets, ricochets, and weapons pointed the wrong way. How many of us will be caught in the crossfire? I don't want to find out.

Don't forget, by now the police have been called and a SWAT team is in the building. If we are all waving guns around, how will the officers know the difference between good guys and bad guys? How likely is it that an innocent person who happens to be holding a gun (and is too terrified and excited to realize it's time to drop it) will be perceived as a threat and be shot by our rescuers?

In the meantime, think about those armed students. Most are between 17 and 24 years old. Science tells us that most of them have brains that have not yet fully matured, particularly in the areas which are needed for rational decision making. How helpful will they really be in an emergency? In the course of an ordinary school year, what will happen to all those guns? Some students will lose them, the same way they lose their cell phones and their textbooks. Some will occasionally leave the gun at home, sitting on an end table or perhaps cleverly hidden under the mattress, where their six-year-old siblings will find it. Some will show off their guns to each other at lunch time, and now and then someone will be accidentally shot.

And, while the overwhelming majority of my students are good-natured and peaceful, it is inevitable that there will be the occasional troubled soul among them. Someone who will experience road rage on the way to school. Someone who will be obsessed with jealousy and hatred for his romantic rival. Someone who will become depressed and suicidal. Someone who will go nuts because he failed his classes. Someone who will take advantage of the opportunity to become the next school shooter.
 

Danger!

If someone pointed a gun at me, I would probably feel threatened. It's likely most people would. Yet there are some people who feel threatened, not in the presence of a gun or other weapon, but simply because of the mere existence of another person. The color of a person's skin triggers a fear reaction in some people, so they believe they are justified in violently "defending" themselves from the threat. Police who shoot Black people often claim they thought the victim was holding a weapon. When they know their bodycams are running, why do they lie? I think it's possible the terror they feel at the sight of dark skin might actually make them hallucinate a weapon or threatening gesture. Would better training fix this? I don't know. But perhaps people who fear the sight of brown skin could use desensitization therapy, like phobia patients. Or perhaps they just shouldn't work in law enforcement. ^@themrswest

Dangerous Things

Certain politicians love guns and fear books. But here's the problem. My neighbor could walk out to his driveway carrying an AR-15, aim it across the street at my kitchen window, and even if he wasn't a very good shot, he could do a lot of damage to the building as well as to whoever was unlucky enough to be standing at the sink.

The same guy could come out of the house with a stack of books and start throwing them. Even if he's got a powerful arm, I doubt any of those books would make it over to my house. He might dent a passing car.

And then if the same guy stood in his driveway and started screaming pronouns: "He! She! Them! You! It!" I probably wouldn't even hear him clearly enough to feel threatened.

Killers' Tools

Some people love to say, it's not the guns, if someone wants to kill, they'll just find another way. That might be true (although there are statistics that suggest otherwise), but so what? A guy with an AR-15 on the roof can quickly murder hundreds. But if all he's got is a sword or a brick or a garotte, he has to get closer to his targets, and he can only attack one at a time. Even with a really good handgun or a normal hunting rifle, he can't do what the AR-15 killer can do.

 

Guns on Campus

Whenever there is a school shooting, many people suggest that lives would be saved if teachers were armed.

I'm a teacher on a college campus. I can imagine exactly what would happen if the school decided I should have a gun in the classroom.

First, I can easily pass a background check. I have no criminal record and no history of mental illness. Buying me a gun shouldn't present any problems. (But this may not be true for all teachers at all schools.)

Next, I'll just assume that the school pays to provide me with proper training, and that I do reasonably well in target practice. The cost of guns and training for all teachers, as well as the likely increase in insurance premiums, may be prohibitive for an already cash-strapped institution. But for this story, let's pretend that the school can afford this without having to cut back on books and supplies or fire some of the maintenance workers.

Now I have a gun at school. Where will I keep it? A locked cabinet would be a safe place, but it wouldn't do me much good if a gunman burst into the room. I can't keep the gun in a desk drawer or in my book bag, since it would be too easy for a mischievous or malevolent person to get it. So I guess I'll have to wear it in a holster on my hip. Will my new security-guard look support the comfortable, nurturing relationship I have with my students? Hard to say.

Next let's imagine that the worst happens and some sick loser decides to shoot up the school. If he bursts into my classroom, guns at the ready, it is unlikely I will have time to draw my weapon. He will get the first shot, and that will be that. In fact, this was the first objection my students raised when I asked them if they would feel safer if I had a gun. They pointed out that a killer who knew that teachers were armed would intentionally target me first. That wasn't a comforting thought for any of us.

In a slightly different scenario, the killer starts shooting in the classroom next to mine, and I'm aware of what is happening. I might try to help the occupants of that room by running over there with my gun. But I probably won't be very effective. I don't know exactly where the shooter is in the room -- and I don't want to accidentally shoot a student -- so I'll need at least a tiny bit of time to find my target and aim. At the same time, I'm coming through the doorway, which makes me a nicely framed target for a guy who already has his guns out and doesn't share my concern about collateral damage.

Maybe my students and I can just crouch behind our desks and wait. I'll aim my gun at the door, ready to take out the shooter as he enters. At this point, the question might be, do I have the heart to pull the trigger? I do. But I had better be a really good shot. I'll probably have just one chance to bring this guy down. I'll only have time for one shot. If I miss, that's it. My handgun against his semi-automatic rifle is no contest.

At this point, some people might suggest that having even more guns in the classroom would solve the problem. What if some, or all, of my students were armed? Couldn't they simply overwhelm the gunman with their collective firepower?

Maybe. And in that tiny classroom, in an atmosphere of terror and chaos, there will be any number of stray bullets, ricochets, and weapons pointed the wrong way. How many of us will be caught in the crossfire? I don't want to find out.

Don't forget, by now the police have been called and a SWAT team is in the building. If we are all waving guns around, how will the officers know the difference between good guys and bad guys? How likely is it that an innocent person who happens to be holding a gun (and is too terrified and excited to realize it's time to drop it) will be perceived as a threat and be shot by our rescuers?

In the meantime, think about those armed students. Most are between 17 and 24 years old. Science tells us that most of them have brains that have not yet fully matured, particularly in the areas which are needed for rational decision making. How helpful will they really be in an emergency? In the course of an ordinary school year, what will happen to all those guns? Some students will lose them, the same way they lose their cell phones and their textbooks. Some will occasionally leave the gun at home, sitting on an end table or perhaps cleverly hidden under the mattress, where their six-year-old siblings will find it. Some will show off their guns to each other at lunch time, and now and then someone will be accidentally shot.

And, while the overwhelming majority of my students are good-natured and peaceful, it is inevitable that there will be the occasional troubled soul among them. Someone who will experience road rage on the way to school. Someone who will be obsessed with jealousy and hatred for his romantic rival. Someone who will become depressed and suicidal. Someone who will go nuts because he failed his classes. Someone who will take advantage of the opportunity to become the next school shooter.