The United States is a violent society. We own more handguns than any other western country, and we use them. Blood flows through the streets of our ghettos, oftentimes reaching our more tranquil suburbs. We settle our disputes not with words but with guns, knives and fists. We don't argue, we fight.
Perhaps it's our history. The country was born out of an armed rebellion. Guns have always been a part of our heritage. Back in the days when a Smith & Wesson was a man's best friend, guns were insurance. Later, these pioneer days served as our entertainment. Western movies, with Cowboys and Indians, horses and guns, kept us entertained and on the edge of our seats.
But our violent ways have caught up with us. A boy growing up in the US today is more likely to die from a violent confrontation than from almost any known disease. Our favorite shows glorify violence, to the point that shootings become the centerpiece of many movies. We live our lives to a soundtrack of rap music, its lyrics reinforcing a culture of violence. The National Rifle Association has even started pitching its ads at young women, encouraging them to purchase handguns for peace of mind.
If we're falling over the edge, some are trying to catch us. Congress has recently made noise about regulating American television, perhaps setting time slots in which violent shows can be shown. It has also pushed through the Brady Bill, requiring that handguns be sold only after a five-day waiting period.
Both are admirable proposals, but neither is destined to succeed alone. The problem is that each focuses on the symptoms of our disease and not on the disease itself. Guns do indeed kill people, but there's something else driving us to buy them. We aren't robots. Network executives can't produce violent shows and force us to watch them. Somewhere out there is a market for violent entertainment -- a large market -- and it likely includes us. Somewhere out there, we have grown accustomed to violence, we have welcomed it.
It should seem clear that a society cannot long endure if its citizens are prone to violent conflict. But how do you pull back when children are shot for wearing the wrong clothes, eyeing another's girlfriend, daring to disagree? What do you do when drivers are threatened for changing lanes, when disgruntled employees murder their co-workers?
The answer is that there isn't a simple answer. Violence occurs in many forms with as many pulsepoints. Tougher sentencing, more prisons, urban development, they all have their place. Certainly, gun control and media monitoring are part of the package, but the real change must come in our psyches.
Like any other addict, we're in denial. We don't want to see a connection between our actions and the pathology of our culture. We cheer Rambo when he shoots up a crowd, but we draw back in disgust when a young boy is slain for his jacket. We won't acknowledge the relation. Yes, one is fiction and the other reality, but if it's fun to watch a shooting spree on the screen, why not in real life too? We've become enablers.
I don't suggest government censorship. Government prohibition here allows us to abdicate responsibility, a responsibility we owe not only to ourselves but to our families and communities as well. It's time that we re-learned what it means to set limits. Not an easy task in a society that encourages us each to do our own thing. Nor when it has unpleasant overtones to the religious right.
But the fact remains, we have it in our power to stem the rise of a more violent culture. We must be willing to confront our own addiction, to treat it now before the disease envelops us. We're running out of time. That tunnel we're looking down is the barrel of a gun.
