The CNN story caught my eye because a highlight blurb ran across the bottom of my TV screen while I was eating breakfast. I don't expect to see "Guns & Ammo" in that news ticker. So I had to investigate what the fuss was all about.
The magazine's editor, Jim Bequette, who was soon to retire from his position anyway, resigned after a column by longtime gun writer Dick Metcalf generated an impressive volume of negative feedback from readers. Metcalf's column was titled, "Let's Talk Limits: Do certain firearms regulations really constitute infringement?" Bequette thought Metcalf's opinion piece "would generate a healthy exchange of ideas on gun rights."
It certainly generated an exchange of ideas. Gun rights and regulations have long been a subject of intense controversy, at least since the 1960s, when the federal government enacted a sweeping new law after the assassinations of Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King, Jr. In the years that followed, the National Rifle Association became, in large measure, an advocacy organization with a single-minded focus on opposing new gun laws. Other organizations were formed in response to the perception that the NRA was not sufficiently committed to the fight: Gun Owners of America and the Citizens' Committee for the Right to Keep and Bear Arms among them. The view that the NRA was too willing to compromise was personified in Neal Knox, a leader in the NRA who went off to start his own hard-line group, The Firearms Coalition, in the early '80s.
The readers of Guns & Ammo were so offended by Metcalf's column that Bequette terminated the relationship between the magazine and Metcalf and then promptly resigned his position as editor, accelerating the timetable of his departure, which had been scheduled for the end of the calendar year. Bequette penned an apology to readers, saying he made a mistake in publishing the column.
I read the column, and a sample of the comments posted on many media Websites in response. No surprises: gun rights advocates slammed Metcalf's opinion, while others, claiming to be gun owners but not "gun nuts," said Metcalf's view was eminently reasonable.
The essence of Metcalf's perspective is that some regulation makes sense. It's hard to argue with that, and courts (including the U.S. Supreme Court) have repeatedly held that some regulation of guns is consistent with the Second Amendment to the Constitution's proscription on infringement of the right to keep and bear arms.
As always, the devil is in the details of proposed regulations, and I will come to that shortly. But I was perplexed by Metcalf's misapprehension of the language of the Second Amendment. It is quite common, but not something I would expect from someone who has written about guns for decades.
Metcalf quoted the Second Amendment:
A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.He then proceeded to focus on the words "well regulated" as justification for government regulation of firearms. What came immediately to mind was the Internet meme originating from the 1987 movie "The Princess Bride." It is so well suited to pointing out when people are misusing the language: "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."
The meaning of the word "regulated" seems straightforward, but the Framers of the Constitution were not writing about government regulations (which didn't exist in those days). The reference to a "well regulated militia" meant that a militia, in order to be an effective fighting force, should have requisite supplies (including guns) and should regularly assemble and drill. The inclusion of this clause in the Amendment was intended to demonstrate the importance of private ownership of, and proficiency with, firearms, which members of the militia typically provided themselves. The "militia" as the term was used in this context, meant essentially all able-bodied adult males. Furthermore, this introductory clause was illustrative of a key reason for prohibiting infringement of the right: that an armed citizenry was essential to the common defense and to maintaining liberty. It was not intended to mean that the right was limited to members of some organized militia (such as the National Guard).
I could not help being surprised that someone well versed in matters related to firearms would base his argument, at least in part, on a misinterpretation of the language of the Second Amendment. Advocates of gun control do this all the time, and I always wonder whether they do so knowingly or not, but for a gun writer to make this error in a gun magazine seemed quite odd.
Linguistics aside, though, we certainly do regulate guns, and there is overwhelming consensus on particular points, such as prohibiting violent criminals and the dangerously mentally ill from acquiring firearms.
Metcalf pointed to the example of his native Illinois, which only recently ceased being the only state that does not allow concealed carry of handguns. The change in Illinois was even more pronounced than that suggests, because there are other states in which carry permits are available but are rarely issued except to VIPs. Now, Illinois is a "shall issue" state, while others remain categorized as having "severely restrictive, may issue" laws and practices.
The new law in Illinois requires 16 hours of training for an applicant to be issued a permit. What could be wrong with that?
The answer to that question lies in the fundamental premise that regulations can be used to infringe upon a right. Metcalf's subtitle asks whether regulations constitute infringements. The answer, as is so often the case, is, it depends. Suppose a state legislature decides to require that gun owners, or those issued carry permits, provide proof that they have liability insurance. If such insurance were very expensive (think malpractice insurance for doctors), the average gun owner couldn't afford it, and it would thus constitute infringement.
What about this requirement for training? Sixteen hours doesn't seem like a lot. Suppose, instead, it was 40 hours. Would that be too much? What if the legislature decided the only training that would be accepted would be a course held at one of the campuses in the state college system, and the course was two hours a night, two nights a week, for a 16-week semester (total 64 hours)? And suppose the tuition for the course was $1,000. And suppose further that the course could be cancelled, at any of the campuses, if the number of students who signed up for it was too small.
I like the idea that people who are issued concealed carry permits should be required to achieve and maintain proficiency with a firearm and that they know something about the legal and ethical principles governing the use of lethal force in self defense. But it is easy to see how writing such requirements into law is difficult to do while assuring that compliance is not so burdensome as to amount to infringement of a right guaranteed against infringement by the U.S. Constitution.
I live in a "shall issue" state (Pennsylvania) with minimal requirements. Fill out an application, list two character references, and pay a fee (which covers the cost of doing a background check to make sure the applicant has a clean record). No training requirement, no marksmanship test. Is that good? I admit to some ambivalence. There are several states (Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas, Vermont, and Wyoming) that do not require a permit for concealed carry. The rationale is that no permit should be required to exercise a constitutional right.
In discussions of these issues, people often draw an analogy with driving a car, which requires passing a test to get a license. Typically the test involves answering questions about traffic laws and demonstrating one's ability to operate a motor vehicle. When I took the test at the age of 16, I had had less than an hour of practice and thought the test was ridiculously easy. Was it better than nothing? I suppose so. Is the analogy a good one? Well, both cars and guns can be lethal weapons. There is no constitutional right to operate a motor vehicle on a public thoroughfare. Of course there were no motor vehicles in the late 18th Century, and firearms were firmly connected, in the minds of the Framers, with fundamental liberty interests. So the analogy is imperfect. Perhaps, given the unique role of guns in human societies, there is no perfect analogy, or even a very good one.
At the most basic level, the problem is the perception of the "slippery slope," as I described it in a March, 2012 essay for this blog:
http://bobsolomon.blogspot.com/2012/03/gun-control-and-slippery-slope.html
Advocates for gun rights see every regulation, every requirement, as holding the potential for undue, unwarranted restriction, which then amounts to infringement. Any requirement that might not seem, at first blush, to be an infringement, will surely lead to a more restrictive one that will infringe.
The slippery slope problem is based on a fundamental mistrust between advocates for gun rights and advocates for gun control. Until we figure out a way around that, we will be fighting an uphill battle to get to civil discourse, and writers like Metcalf who are "just trying to be reasonable" will be pilloried as traitors.
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