My "sensible gun regulation" expectations

A pro-gun rights friend messaged to ask me what I would want from gun control in the US. First, I want to be clear: I don't want to control the guns. For that, I point to this little meme:

Now that that's out of the way...  Let me say that what I want from gun regulation is this:  creating barriers for criminals attempting to access weapons that increase their likelihood of success in pursuing criminal activity while protecting those who like or enjoy owning and using guns for non-criminal reasons. 

Everyone in my immediate family except me - and ironically my Navy officer sister - has a concealed carry permit. Navy sister gets guns, though, and according to the Navy is an expert shooter of some weapon. I don't remember which one. I just know her uniform has a little bar with an 'E' and when I asked her she told me and she told me the weapon. I thought it was cool. I forgot the weapon.

But I digress. My family - and a large number of friends - have CCW permits. They have all taken CCW classes. They've all gone to the shooting range and practiced firing weapons. 

I was brought up around guns. My brother was given one for his 14th birthday. (It led to a fantastic story I tell about the first time I brought a boyfriend home, but I won't share that here because my brother will kill me.) My neighbour had a gun and he used to take my brother skeet shooting when they were younger.  My grandfather had a gun. I imagine my great-grandfather had a couple. I am pretty sure that most of my extended family have one or more guns in their houses. 

So I'm not intrinsically afraid of guns. They aren't unfamiliar to me. I don't think people who own or like guns are simply crazy or stupid or lacking in intelligence or social skills. The things that make them happy just happen to be different from what makes me happy. They like having weapons and firing them and being with them, and ostensibly cleaning them and making them look pretty. Whatever. I don't get it (though sometimes I do think it might be fun to shoot things). 

These friends and family also aren't in the habit of killing people, selling drugs, or whatever. So if it makes them happy, that's cool. Let them do it. But with reasonable limitations that are aimed at the criminal elements in our society.

Here are my six proposals I'd like to see in gun legislation. Some of it's standard; some of it perhaps isn't. Some of it's well thought out; some of it's merely sketched out.

(1) A ban on the sale of high capacity magazines.

(2) Testing and registration for gun licenses. This wouldn't be some astronomical test. It would be similar to a driving license. The state can't arbitrarily deny you a permit, but you have to show (a) you can see clearly and pass a visual test; and (b) you know how to use a gun, how to carry it, and the rules of gun safety. If you commit criminal activities with your gun, you lose your license. Whether this loss is temporary or permanent will depend on the crime. If your criminal activity is using a weapon without a permit, it might incur a one year loss of rights; if it's premeditated murder, a politlcal assassination, mass murder or a shooting spree, you should lose the right for life.  

The licensing would be done on a state-by-state basis and licenses would have the same effect as a driver's license. A license in one state would let you buy a gun and transport it to another. But there would be some basic expectations of all states in their licensing standards (like visual tests, and needing to prove you know how to load and unload a gun and how to carry it, etc.). These requirements probably wouldn't be much different than the current standards for concealed carry permits.

Also, similar to a car, you could own a gun without a license; you just can't operate a gun without a license. So people can collect antique guns but not use them unless they are given a license. To make this effective, you would need to show your gun license when purchasing ammunition. Selling ammunition to a person without a gun license would be treated similar to selling alcohol or tobacco to a minor.

Operating a gun without a license would be a crime. There would be exemptions for use in non-criminal activity on private property. So if someone wants to take their 8 year old kid out on their fam and teach them how to shoot, they can and it won't incur liability. If a 17 year old unlicensed kid goes and robs someone with that same gun used to teach the 8 year old, though, they incur the liability for both the armed robbery but also for operating a gun without a license. 

(3) Gun sales would need to be registered. The obligation to register the sale would fall on the seller who would provide a copy of the background check they received. Failure to do so would be a crime and the seller would incur some level of liability for criminal activity conducted with a gun that was sold without this registration.

(4) A closing of the loophole on background checks. Private sales would need a background check and the sale would need to be registered. Like #3, failure to do so would be a crime and the seller would incur some level of liability for criminal activity conducted with a gun that was sold without registration.

The criminal liability incurred for these last two provisions might be in the form of a penalty or jail time, depending on the crime committed and the history of the people involved in purchase and sale of the weapon. If a gun is stolen, personal owners (as opposed to stores) have something like 72 hours to one week to report the gun stolen and not incur liability for its use.

These provisions are an attempt to temper a lot of the internal black-market, private sale loopholes and to encourage people not to skirt the obligations of a background check and registration of a sale. Right now, investigations show people are willing to make private sales even when they know someone wouldn't pass a background check. They essentially know they are assisting someone in future criminal conduct, but it's not actually a crime. When there are sales to criminals who couldn't pass the background check, it should just be the criminal who is responsible but those who intentionally able the criminal as well.

(5) Companies involved in the regular sale of guns would have to undertake semi-annual or quarterly inventory requirements, with reporting to the ATF. This is just to tell the ATF if any guns have been stolen, and to ensure the company is complying with its registration requirements for the guns it does sell. Systematic problems that remain uncorrected or unaddressed may result in suspension of the company's license to sell.

This will be the costliest aspect for big companies that sell weapons, but right now they have no oversight and the ATF can't force inventories or reporting. Once a company gets registered, gun trace evidence can't be used in determining the company's licensing provisions. The company doesn't have to tell anyone if a gun is stolen, even though the very nature of gun theft suggests it will be used in the future for criminal activity. We need some common sense way that is not overly burdensome to ensure companies have some oversight in who they sell to and under what conditions.

(6)  A national non-mandatory buy-back of assault weapons and high-capacity magazines. The government could pay for the assault weapons / magazines, or provide tax deductions for turning them in, or provide something like gifts cards, food-stamp cards or prepaid debit cards. To offset the cost of the program, the guns collected could then be melted down and sold at auction, or sold to state or federal law enforcement / military units. The program wouldn't need to run for that many years - maybe 5 - so we wouldn't be setting up a permanent governmental structure or agency. Just a short-term program, possibly run by the ATF or the FBI.

I disagree with those who say it would be unconstitutional to force people to turn in their assault weapons and high capacity magazines. I can only see it being unconstitutional if we didn't compensate them for the property loss or provide a means of appealing if they have just objections. This isn't a violation of a 2nd Amendment unless the 2nd Amendment itself protections the right to own and purchase high capacity magazines and assault weapons. The '08 Supreme Court decision doesn't suggest this is the case. But, the 5th Amendment taking clause protects the right to property, and guns are a type of property. So any mandatory return of assault weapons, etc., would simply need due process and adequate compensation.

But that's actually an academic point here, because I don't think we need a mandatory buy-back as long as we have the other steps in place. I also think a mandatory buy-back would create too many problems and would cause too much of an uproar in the gun-owning community. So it's unnecessary and divisive. Why would I push for that? We can accomplish the real goals I see of gun control - reducing criminal access while protecting the rights of those who want to shoot things for a non-criminal purpose - with the other steps and a voluntary buy-back.

So that's what I would want to see. Six steps. Nothing massive. Nothing to take guns away from those who want to responsibly use them to non-criminally shoot things on private property. It's aimed solely at the criminals. I don't think there's anything on here that is particularly radical or threatens the average gun owner.

Will this stop all gun violence? No.

Would it have even stopped the Sandy Hook shooting?  Probably not. But the guy (I'm refusing to name him because we should be remembering the victims and not the perpetrator) might not have been able to kill all 27 people besides himself. Nancy Lanza? Yes, she was sleeping.  Some of the 26 students and teachers? Yes. Even with a six-shooter, he could have shot 5-6 people quickly, depending on whether he reloaded after shooting the window to get into the school. Of course, he'd have to have been a good shot to be effective in killing all of them. With a musket, he could have killed one.  But all 26?  That probably wouldn't have happened with the above proposals. 

And if it would have saved the lives of Victoria Soto, Daniel Barden, or James Mattioli that would have been worth it, wouldn't it?

Victoria Soto

James Mattioli, 6 years old

Daniel Barden, 7

Rape, Women and the False "He-Said, She-Said" Connundrum of Justice

Quick disclaimer: Scientific words are used for body parts here. 

If you're not grown-up enough to have this conversation, then go somewhere else.  

Part of what I love about my life is the large number of strong feminists in it, including many male feminists. (I know there's a discussion as to whether men can be feminists. I'm just asserting here without analysis that they can be. Deal with it.) And I love men.  Not just the men I've never hooked up with. Men in general.  But particularly feminist men. 

If you are a man (or a woman), you should join my amazing brother by doing your local Walk A Mile in Her Shoes, which raises money to combat rape, sexual violence, and the gender-based violence. My brother and my 13 month old nephew are walking - shoes, I've been told, will be decided later but I'm hoping my nephew busts something like these out (dear bro, you can buy them here).  

I appreciate that my brother and sister-in-law - one of the coolest sets of feminist parents I could imagine - are starting early in raising my nephew as a feminist. I love that he will grow up doing this walk with his father, whose previous career life involved prosecuting domestic violence and rape cases. I love that his mother and aunts all have jobs that keep them active in the community and ensure that my nephew will never grow up thinking a woman's job can only be a small subset of the world. I won't have to worry that my nephew will think having a female professor or boss is President is "insanity" or unbiblical. I won't have to worry that he'll think it's acceptable to hit a woman because she pissed him off, she broke a golf club, she got into a car accident, or she cheated on him.

And I don't have to worry that my nephew will think "some girls rape easy."

He will be raised to understand that unless a girl says yes, she hasn't consented. He'll know that a girl being drunk isn't an excuse, and neither is the fact that her shoulder, or stomach, or even her breasts and vagina are showing. He'll know that the fact she walks outside in public alone doesn't mean she wants his hand, his eyes or his penis on her. I expect my nephew will know to stand up to other men who say and do these things, even if it means losing friends and even it means that sometimes the conversations get awkward or uncomfortable.

Because that's what it means to be an upstanding man.

I know he will know this because I know his father and mother, his aunts, his uncle, and his grandparents all know this and will reinforce it for him. Again and again and again. The thing about young boys is they grow up to be young men, so if you let them know early and often the expectations of them as men, they will generally embrace those expectations and live up to them. 

The other thing I know my nephew will know that is too often our general society gets wrong:  

Simply because there is no external eye-witness to a rape, it doesn't mean rape comes down to "he-said, she-said."

A facebook conversation prompted this post, so a little background. There's a brilliant commentary by Owen Jones at the Independent reminding Europeans that while their outrage over the Delhi rape case is justified, the problem isn't Indian, or even developing state / patriarchal society specific. The problem of how women are treated in India is replicated in Europe and the US: 

Take a look at France, that prosperous bastion of European civilisation. In 1999, two then-teenagers – named only as Nina and Stephanie – were raped almost every day for six months. Young men would queue up to rape them, patiently waiting for their friends to finish in secluded basements. After a three-week trial this year, 10 of the 14 accused left the courtroom as free men; the other four were granted lenient sentences of one year at most. 

...

All rape is violence by definition, but particularly horrifying incidents take place here, too. Exactly a year ago, one woman was raped by 21-year-old Mustafa Yussuf in central Manchester; shortly afterwards a passer-by – who the rape survivor thought was coming to help – raped her again as she lay on the floor. Or take 63-year-old Marie Reid, raped and savagely murdered earlier this year by an 18-year-old boy she had treated like a “grandson”. 

It’s important to clarify that most rapes – in India or elsewhere – are not carried out by strangers waiting in alleys to pounce on women. It is mostly by people known to the rape survivor or victim; often someone they trust. It is a concept that the law itself took a long time to recognise, which is why – until 1991 – it was legal to rape your wife.

It was the first story - of France - that prompted a quick discourse on the constraints of justice in prosecuting rape. A male friend noted that (in French) that in that case the rape wasn't sufficiently proven and that the interests of justice require the burden be placed on the prosecution and witness to prove beyond reasonable doubt that the rape occurred. 

This is the common explanation trotted out whenever a particularly horrific rape case catches the media's attention and the judge or jury subsequently acquits the accused. There just "wasn't enough evidence." They "couldn't prove beyond a reasonable doubt." It's just "sometime's a matter of he-said / she-said and a jury can't go on that alone."

My first reaction to this line is "bullshit." But I've promised my mother to swear less in public - and on facebook - and I don't think "bullshit" is a sufficiently established argument to justify my position.  So let me clarify a little further.

First, we allow eye-witness testimony in cases involving murder and robbery as well as rape. Sometimes, this witness identification is the only testimony available and it results in a conviction. When this happens no one dismisses the testimony as a matter of "he said / (s)he said."  We accept it and filter it and the issue of the credibility of the witnesses is assessed by both how they tell the story and their own general credibility. (But no one attempts to argue a shop keeper is not a credible eyewitness because the shop keeper was once robbed before, or once sold beer to someone who looked like the guy who later robbed him.) 

Yet, eye-witness accounts in situations of armed robbery or murder are probably less likely to be accurate than those involving sexual assault. Since rape predominantly involves cases where the victim and perpetrator know each other, the impact of trauma on the ability of a witness to identify the perpetrators is reduced. The same is true for other social biases that can affect eyewitness testimony.

We don't dismiss eye-witness accounts all together because we recognize that it can have validity and we simply need to use it better. We continue to develop and advocate for rules that allow us to balance the interests of justice so that judges and juries understand the factors that can affect eye-witness accounts. But again, though, these issues of the doubtfulness of eye-witness accounts aren't major considerations in most rape cases. If a friend I know rapes me, the distance, lighting, and his race are unlikely to impact the accuracy of my identification. 

This doesn't mean that even in rape cases, eye-witness testimony becomes fool-proof. We do need to be careful about its use. I recognize that. In my home state of Ohio, Clarence Elkins was once convicted for rape and murder based principally on the eyewitness testimony of his six year old niece. Now, that eye-witness testimony ended up being wrong (a fact the amazing faculty and students associated with the Ohio Innocence Project - including several of my friends - helped bring to light), but a lot of that relates to how the eye-witness testimony was collected and the age of the witness.

So, yes, eye-witness testimony has its limits. Yes, that includes in cases of rape. Yes, there needs to be reform to the use of eye-witness testimony.  BUT, we would never argue that when the guy who runs the local 7-11 says he was robbed by that guy and indicates to the defendant, and the defendant says "it wasn't me"* that it's just a matter of "he said / he said."  We evaluate the testimony. We hear experts who explain how testimony can be effected by trauma. And finally, we assess the credibility of the witnesses.

The difference between eye-witness testimony in rape and armed robberies is, actually, a matter of social bias against the victims. We are taught - through movies, TV shows, and yes, sometimes real cases - that women "make up" rape to "punish" men who have spurned them or hurt them or whatever. We are taught that women sometimes change their minds afterwards and claim rape, or do it when they end up pregnant at an inconvenient time. 

We are taught women are emotional and therefore unreliable when it comes to issues of their sexuality and sexual health. And finally, we're that that if they aren't virgins, they must be whores. If they've had sex once, they probably wanted it. 

If they don't want it, women shouldn't dress provocatively, walk alone, go to clubs, or do any number of other things that some guy once decided meant a woman "wants it" and actually wants it from anybody any time. That apparently includes getting married. If a woman fails to take these steps, they're probably at fault. They should've known better.

This is what our society tells us. Regularly.

On the other hand, our boys will be boys attitude suggests men should and do consistently pursue sex and that shouldn't cost them their lives or freedom. We are taught to sympathize with the rapist because they look like sweet young boys we probably knew back home. Do we really want to ruin their lives because of a little confusion as to whether her "no" was "no" or "oh, baby, no, no, no, yes, yes, yes!" 

This brings me back to Roger Rivard's assertion that "some girls rape easy." This is reflective of the idea that men should be pursuing sex but sometimes it just get a little confusing for them as to what a woman wants. It is, once again, the assumption that the woman is at fault. It's not just that she's promiscuous but that she's emotional and unclear about what she wants from her partner. She wants to be a good girl, but she also doesn't want to be. She therefore must've gotten herself into a situation where she is unclear for the guy and he just accidentally ends up raping her.  And isn't it just terrible that his life would be ruined like that?

Most of consciously reject some or all of these proposition to an extent, but their social prominence unconsciously gnaws at us when we consider how to prove rape. It's why we don't give sufficient credence to eye-witness testimony in rape cases. It's why psychological testimony regarding the way trauma affects the giving of evidence is rarely fully introduced at trial.  

And it's why we distinguish between the viability of sole eye-witness testimony in the armed robbery of a grocery store versus the continuous rape of 2 girls by 14 boys.

Because when it's rape, someone pointing the finger isn't sufficient. Particularly when it's just some emotional girl who didn't do enough to protect herself or fight back.

In that case, it's just "he said / she said" and how in the world could we ever have justice if we convicted on that basis alone?

To the Men in My Life I've Never Hooked Up With

ThatLawyer already wrote an open letter to the men in her life she's hooked up with, and it pretty much sums up my sentiments for the men in my life I've ever hooked up with - or will hook up with.  I want to write a letter to the men in my life I've never hooked up with.

There are a few caveats, though, and unlike ThatLawyer I won't make you scroll down to the footnotes to find them.  This doesn't apply to you if: (1) I have hooked up with you (with all the ambiguity ThatLawyer recognizes in the definition of "hooked up"); (2) I'm related to you; or (3) you've only ever been tangentially in my life. #3 applies to the guys I went to school with but by graduation I couldn't remember a single conversation we had had that went further than the courtesy "'sup?" "not much, man."  This is, for the most part, for my friends. My just friends friends.

This is a letter for the men who have come into my life and left their imprint (or continue to leave their imprint). Some I almost dated, but only two are included who I actually dated. One of them later told me he's gay, finally answering all the unanswered questions I had about why it didn't work out.  The other was just a really good guy but we had really bad timing.

Some of the others I thought I would ultimately end up with, but it's never happened. Most I never even thought I would date. This isn't to say they're undateable (a word spellcheck doesn't recognize but I think should exist). When I met them, I just knew it would never work out: they're married; they're engaged; they're my student; I met them when they were dating my friend; I thought they were assholes when I first met them and when I finally learned to like them I already knew I would never fall in love with them.

These are the men I have no regrets with (except for the two I actually dated and one I really should've dated).

To those men, I want to say this:

Thank you.

Seriously, thanks.  You have taught me what I want in life - and sometimes what I don't want - without forcing me to go through any of the angstyness that Hollywood associates with teen love but that for single women can really last well into our 30s. You have taught me what love is without eventually breaking my heart (or forcing me to break yours). And you have brought humor into my life without it coming from a re-telling of a date gone horribly wrong.

You have, at times, been the one I turned to when I wondered what was wrong with me.  Thank you for saying it's not me. I don't know if you were lying or not, but I appreciate even the fake reassurances. Thanks for occasionally telling me all my ex-boyfriends were losers, but not doing it so often that I start to think I'm only attracted to losers. And thanks for finding creative ways to tell me they're kind of losers, like I just hadn't found someone who wasn't awesome enough to be half of my whole. I know they're not really all losers, but sometimes I've needed you to say it anyhow.

I've watched how you treat your wives and girlfriends.  While my expectations for how to be treated are, of course, principally influenced by my family, you have also helped form my opinion about what to expect, and what I can't accept. I appreciate the public kindnesses you show your girlfriend / fiance / wife, and I cringe when I hear you complain about them behind their backs. I can only imagine what my boyfriend(s) must say about me in similar circumstances.  I know I talk too much - we all know we talk too much for you.  I guess I'm glad, though, that you say it to me and not her. She probably doesn't deserve that.

You, however, probably deserve better. Why do you put up with someone who only tells you all the things you've done wrong and never shows you the public kindnesses you so richly deserve?  Would it kill the girl to throw you a public compliment every now and again?  You are (probably) a good guy; I wouldn't actually have been friends with you but for that.  I realize the sex must be amazing, but as my father once told my great-grandmother: you have to get out of bed sometime. (True story.)  Get out of bed! If you still like her as a person, then stay with her.  But based on all you tell me, I sometimes doubt you really like her as a person. 

That said, I have been sick when you hit on me when you have a girlfriend / fiance / wife - and I mean really hit on me, not the harmless flirting I love to engage in with almost anyone. You knew you had a girlfriend / fiance / wife. I knew you had one, and you knew I knew you had one. So why make me feel so bloody cheap?  Like Taylor Swift, even if I don't know the other woman in your life, I'll "feel an obligation to do what's upstanding and right." Oh, and "I'm no one's exception, this I have previously learned." This isn't to pretend I haven't sometimes been tempted.  I have, a few times.  But I've never gone through with it because it just makes me feel so gross. Like I need to walk away and take a shower right away gross.  And no, that shower won't be a good thing.

I really don't understand how I feel more guilt and a greater obligation to a woman I may never have met than you do to the woman you've promised to honour and respect.  And yes, that's the promise you make when you're dating us; the real difference between a monogamous relationship and marriage is that the latter is supposed to last for forever. You don't get to treat a girl like she's expendable and cheap simply because she's not your wife. Perhaps it's because I've been cheated on, but when you hit on me you're actually hurting me. It makes me doubt that I'll ever find someone I want to be with who I also trust enough to be with.  If the men I do trust in every other area of my life habitually cheat, how in the world am I supposed to trust someone not to cheat on me?

And for that, thank you to those of you who haven't cheated. That includes those of you who are reformed cheaters; the ones who found the right girl and stopped trying to emulate Hugh Heffner - robe and all. You really do give me hope.  I remember when one of my exes cheated and all his friends said, "I really thought he'd changed." I thought at the time, "Men can't change."  I do still kind of wonder if they can, but you did so I have hope that when my future significant other says "Yeah, I once cheated on my ex-girlfriend," he's really confessing a former habit rather than a continuing one.  Please tell me if that's naive.

It drives me crazy that I know you rolled your eyes when I used Taylor Swift.  I know she writes for an average audience of 17.  I don't care.  She's fun; sometimes her lyrics work in real life. I'm not pretending she's an existential theorist who uses song as her medium. I'm just enjoying something I can dance to for 30 seconds in my living room when I need a break.

Thanks for the gifts you've given - and the salsa you've danced with me. I need salsa, but going to a club as a single woman inevitably means a great deal of discomfort. The salsa teachers - who are so much fun to dance with! - only want to dance with you because they think you'll eventually buy lessons and no one will be around to sweep you away. The single guys you've never met want to dance but they're either so busy trying to remember the steps that they're no fun, or they're too busy trying to hit on you that they can't dance. Either way, it's nice to have a guy friend to dance with, even if it's only one song out of ten.  So stop telling me you don't know how to do it - 90% of the men in the club don't know how to do it and the others just want my money in the end! I'll take dancing with you and your two left feet over the other choices any day. It's way more fun.

And the presents - they matter not because they cost you something, but because they last. It has sucked when all my presents from guys are the things I want to discard when the relationship is over.  Your presents, though, get to stay around and every time I pick up that key chain / stuffed animal / cushion cover / Christmas ornament / scarf / purse / necklace / ring / earrings / book, I say a little prayer of thanks for you. I need these reminders; the reminders that the good guys are out there and they're really very good.  It's nice to be reminded that I do have normal, sane, healthy relationships with really great men.  Maybe one day I'll even get to have that with sex!

You have often made me laugh, sometimes to the point of tears. Unfortunately, your toilet-humour has worn off so that sometimes I say something really raunchy. I know that you love it when you say it, and find it a turn-off when a woman does.  I kind of hate that double standard.  The thing is, I like making people feel comfortable and I am pretty laid back, so I will generally follow the other person's lead on the tone of a conversation.  If you don't want me to be as gross as you, just don't be gross in front of me. Or get rid of the double standard.

I appreciate that you challenge me.  I hate that you usually do it while talking down to me.  I'm not going to say I'm smarter than you, because I'll only ever be smarter than you in some things; just like you'll only ever be smarter than me in some things. But I am pretty frigging intelligent.  I can understand arguments and logic; I know the difference between facts and opinions. If I disagree with you, it's not because I don't know understand your point. It's because I understood your point, respect your position and still disagree with your conclusions.  Could you please afford me the same courtesy?

Me - trying to talk to you.
About almost anything.

I do, however, know that our disagreements have made me a stronger person, a clearer thinker, and a better writer. Having to listen to men - including my male friends - incessantly want to explain things to me, makes me realize how valuable the few words I can fit in are.  It's why when you take a breath - after 10 minutes of telling me how little I know - I jump in. It's because I've been trying to be polite and not just interrupt but let's be honest: sometimes I feel like Jim Lehrer at the first US Presidential Debate. I just want to finish a full thought! So I'll take those 30 second breaks you have and use them to my advantage. In doing so - even though this post would suggest otherwise - I've learned to be quick and clear in conveying my knowledge.

I am grateful that you never put me on a pedestal and engage with me an as actual human being rather than some fragile little doll you're afraid of upsetting. I hate when I'm dating a guy and suddenly all the interesting conversations stop because they've become so concerned about impressing me that they stopped engaging with me.  On the other hand, I hate it when a guy is so turned on by the fight that he's always looking for a new way to disagree with me.  He also stops engaging with me, just in a different way.  But you haven't, and I'm grateful. Of course, our constant disagreements about everything from gun control to abortion rights to the "fiscal cliff" may be one of the reasons you're undateable to me...(I would say 'just kidding,' but I'm not really. It doesn't mean I don't think you're great; you're just probably not great for me.)

So thank you. For listening, for making me laugh, for challenging me, and for pointing me closer to the kind of person I want to be, and the kind of man I'm willing to be with.  And thanks for doing it while not seriously scarring me. I'm sorry if our not hooking up has ever left you feeling used or undesired. You're not - you're pretty awesome actually, and as a result I'm really glad you came into my life.

xoxo
T

And like ThatLawyer, let me say that you shouldn't assume this was to you.  It might be; but it's unlikely all of it will be relevant to any of you.

Celebrating a new year

I didn't do a year-in-review this year.  The end of 2012 didn't feel real, in part because how I usually celebrate has been postponed.

Every year, a group of pretty fantastic friends get together in one of our cities to celebrate. I say "one of our cities" but the reality is that they never come to me.  Yet. 

But, we do rotate, and someone always hosts us at their house. They plan a nice restaurant for us to go to and have a 3 or 5 course meal, usually involving a nice steak or a fancy seafood dish.  We plan months in advance to select a set meal that we can anticipate affording and also anticipate enjoying. We usually ring in the New Year at the restaurant, sipping on champagne and exchanging hugs and kisses.  We drink too much, dance a little too little, and just enjoy the company of friends we don't get to see enough.

The next morning, we sleep in - or do so as much as the typical hangover lets you.  Then around noon we wander to someplace cool - again pre-determined for us - to have brunch with mimosas.  We spend the day playing games, chatting with each other, and enjoying the fact that we are collectively barely functional.

These friends are pretty amazing.  In part because we really only see each other this one time a year, but we stay in communication throughout the year to support one another with any major issues, and often with the minor decisions that love and life throw our way.  There's a medical doctor, a doctor in linguistics, a Navy officer (my sister and best friend), a lawyer, a judicial clerk, and me. Only the judicial clerk is male.  We usually include significant others, which has so far really only meant the (medical) doctor's significant other. We sometimes include other friends or a sibling.  But, principally it's this core group of friends who stumble into a new city once a year to celebrate the passing of one A.D. and the starting of another. 2011 became 2012 amongst kisses at my sister's newest temporary flat in Virginia. 2010 had become 2011 with funny hats and champagne toasts and hugs to strangers at the table over in Chicago. Before that, there was Detroit, Cleveland and Columbus.  We're bound to do Chicago again sometime, and Montreal perhaps. I'd love to convince them to meet me in Paris, but I doubt that will happen.

I love NYE with these friends.  There's no judgment when you've had too much champagne; there's no castigation that I haven't had enough (when we drive, it's usually me who is doing the designated driving so I rarely get to have enough). We don't hype it up to some insane level in advance that makes everything we do a disappointment. We just plan to have good food and alcohol and enjoy being around one another when the clock strikes midnight. And we don't lie to ourselves by pretending to have new year's resolutions that won't last longer than the drive home.

We have all agreed: when people say New Year's Eve is always a disappointment, it just means they're doing it wrong.

But this year was a bust. The (medical) doctor was, well, doctoring at a very impressive hospital in Georgia. The (linguistic) doctor was with family out East; my sister is with her ship in the Mediterranean, and for only the second time in my life I spent Christmas and New Year's Eve outside the US.  Only the judicial clerk and thatlawyer could celebrate together, but they decided not to.  So we've postponed our celebrations until my sister's ship docks back in Virginia. I hope to be home then; I plan to be home then, but for some reason the US Navy doesn't really care about my plans when they decide where to send my sister's ship.

So New Year's Eve didn't feel like it was going to be New Year's Eve.  I had a few invitations, and there was a vague discussion of heading to Scotland or London or someplace that isn't my tiny little village.

Those all slowly got scrapped as the reality of travel plans, workloads and money told me to scrap them.

Then I got the invitation for dinner at a PhD friend's house.  It would just be 6 of us.  I thought 5, which would've meant 2 couples and me, but one of the couple's brought a friend.  Thankfully, it was not a set up.  Just an extra friend, so there were two of us as spare wheels, rather than just me.  We celebrated similarly to how I've celebrated the other years.  Wine, and then (faux) champagne, and then whiskey, and then more (faux) champagne. Our 3 course meal ended with a traditional Greek New Year cake, with a coin in the bottom that was supposed to give one of us extra luck for the year.

No one got the piece with the coin.

I like to think that means we'll all get an extra portion of luck this year, though none of us will be abundantly lucky.

Really, it just means the cake cutter started at the wrong end of the circle.

It was a nice, low-key event and was perhaps the closest I could have wished for to my normal festivities.

I still missed my sister and the way she starts scrunching her nose and batting her eyelashes when she drinks the one-too-many glass of champagne.  I miss the way she and the lawyer start competing to see who can flirt with the judicial clerk in the most shocking way. I miss the way he oscillates between embarrassed, inappropriately flirtatious, and shocked.  I miss watching the medical doctor change and grow year to year. Not to sound like I'm her grandmother, but I've watched her grow from a competitive flirt to a mature woman with a cool, breezy air to her.  I miss the linguist's questions, the way she gets to heart of our lives and doesn't let us skip a full holiday without being authentic and honest with each other.  I miss the way our conversations ebb and flow between the ridiculousness of which-celebrity-we'll-never-meet-is-now-pregnant to the intensity of life, politics, and the world's woes.  I miss (temporarily) solving one another's love lives; letting them remind me that I'm a "catch" who just hasn't found "the one" but will at "the right time."  It's a reassurance I get from lots of people here, but with them it has more resonance. They know me. And they're all currently single-ish (except the medical doctor, but we love her anyhow).

Mostly I miss the opportunity to be a good friend to them and to receive their good friendship.  During the year - and particularly at this moment of the year for me - I often realize I'm not the best friend to have in the world, particularly as a best friend. I get caught up in the here-and-now of life and while I promise phone calls and skype dates, I often end up postponing them.  I pray for these friends and love them and miss them and occasionally email them, but I'm generally complete crap at actually being there on the regular basis you would hope your good friends are.

This one time of the year is my chance to make it right.  Not to excuse the previous year's worth of less-than-awesomeness, but to really engage on a deep level with deep friends.  It's a chance to start anew with the year, and every year we do get better and better collectively at keeping in touch.

This year, I have to do that without the weekend get-away. Without the steak, and the dancing, the scrabble games, the Cranium, and the brunch.  This is the new year, and I will again be better at keeping in touch.  Just as soon as I finish this paper...

(Seriously, though, as soon as I'm done with this paper I'm writing (supposed to be finishing right now), these friends can count on a massive round of phone calls.)

On our .6% definition of "wealthy"

I've long thought the dividing line within the US for "rich" and "middle class" was a little insane.  The concept that only 2% of a population - the approximate percentage of people in the US making $250,000 or more a year, which has previously been the standard in public discussions - means that the "middle" in "middle class" tops out at 98% of the population.

By definition the "middle class" is the class that exists between "rich" and "poor."  In 2011, there were 46.2 million people living in poverty in the US. This is approximately 15% of the population. If the US treated classes as a bell curve, one would assume something close to 46.2 million people, or another 15%, would also be rich.  That would give a total population of 92.4 million on the extremes, and a middle class of approximately 208 million people, or 70% of the population.

A pretty standard bell curve, even if the extremes are quite low.

But if we assume "rich" is someone who earns $250,000 / year, that limits the "rich" category to 2.85 million, or 2% of the population.  Suddenly, there's no bell curve.  Just a curve on one end and a little tiny dip on the other.

Now, Congress has decided that "rich" is even smaller.  Only .6% of the population, or 965,000 households, will be "rich" enough to justify an increased tax level.  The news - and as a consequence my facebook feed - is touting this as a victory for the US. The NYT has a headline proclaiming: "Senate Passes Legislation to Allow Taxes on Affluent to Rise."  It's accompanied by this picture of Joe Biden,  which a friend captioned as "Biden for Vice-President or Biden for Messiah?"

Photo by Alex Brandon/Associated Press

But how can we possibly have a "middle class" that is, essentially, everyone in the country who isn't poor?  Because when less than a million people in our country are "rich," - and the country has 300 million people in total - you're essentially saying everyone is middle class unless they're poor.

By definition, this doesn't make sense.  But as a policy choice, it could have devastating consequences.

Classes exists not out of some absolute, static reality but out of relativity to others. This doesn't mean that they don't have some objective basis, but rather that once a minimum threshold is met, there is a relative scale to wealth and poverty. Those who are "rich" or "wealthy" have an "abundance" in comparison to the rest. Someone is poor because they are lacking in wealth or have little of it.  It's not that they have an abundance or a little amount in absolute or global terms.  It's that in relation to others, they have an abundance or little.

Someone in a country where 98% of the population lives on less than $300 / month could be rich by making $500 / month. In a country where 98% of the population makes $750 / month, someone making $500 / a month is poor.  That is how class systems work; it's relative to the others in a society.

As I said, we do have some objective definitions of poverty. There is an "absolute poverty line," that is global in reach and is currently established by the World Bank as those people who live on $1.25 USD (purchase power parity) a day. But there are few people in the US to whom this would apply.

The US Census Bureau instead uses a complex set of "family thresholds" to determine poverty, which engages both an objective and a relative notion of poverty. At the heart of our understanding is apparently the "economy food plan," which is "the least costly of four nutritionally adequate food plans designed by the Department of Agriculture."  Since a survey in the 1950s found "that families of three or more people spent approximately one-third of their after-tax money income on food," the poverty line was placed at three times the cost of meeting the economy food plan for a family of 3.  It was then adjusted for other types of families. This gives us an objective basis (poverty is the ability of a family to eat healthily) while also a relative scale (to not be poor you need to make 3x this amount because the average family uses 1/3 of their income on food).

Because poverty is not an absolute phenomenon - at least not principally in the US - there's no need for our society to accept that 15% of the population is poor.  We have some power to control how much of our society is poor and rich by developing standards that fight poverty so that our bell curve is, well, curvier.  We could easily justify .6% of the population as rich if we also have a poverty rate of .6% of the population.  This suggests a society that is in balance, and to an extent, fair.*

But why are we as a society so willing to accept poverty while so determined to limit the concept of wealth just so a small percentage of our population can enjoy a better tax bracket?  We limit wealth so that the tax burden is limited under an idea that all those people - the people currently between the top 2% and the top .6% of our population - are "just regular, middle class folks" while never taking the concrete steps necessary to reduce the 15% poverty rate to just .6% of our population so that those people - the poor - can truly become "just regular, middle class folks."  (And the solution can't simply be that we lower the poverty line to .6% if we don't reduce the factual reality of poverty.)

I am regularly told by my conservative friends that we need to cut spending to fight the deficit and that this is the best answer as it limits the "theft" that occurs when the government "takes from the middle class to give to the poor." This philosophy, though, intentionally protects the "haves" while increasing the burden on the "have nots" by creating an understanding of "rich" and "poor" that accepts poor while not recognizing rich.

In doing so, we create a false perception that "we're all in this together," and by "we" we mean those who aren't poor. The poor, though, aren't in this with us. They are the "lazy," "stupid," "47%" "takers." We demonize them rather than recognize that poverty exists only because it is in relative relation to the rest of us  - meaning relative to both the middle class and the rich. By failing to recognize a "wealthy class," we create a belief that our "poor class" exists by choice rather than as a factual reality of its relationship to the rest of us.

This belief in their "choice" - rather than their relative existence - means we're less likely to undertake the steps necessary to reduce that poor class as a percentage of our population.

It is that failure to recognize the relativity of poverty - and of wealth - that leads to so much insanity in our society. In perhaps one of the craziest reaches of our society's tendency to govern by "truthiness," CNN notes that "some people who make a lot of money don't feel rich. After all, the cost of living say in New York eats up a lot more money than it does in Boise."

First, why can't we take account of the difference in cost of living when drafting tax legislation?  Why can't we say, for instance, determine the city that has the median standard of living and adjust the percentage out from there to take account of the differences across the US?  This may mean that someone in Des Moines, Iowa who makes $230,000 / year pays a higher rate than someone in NYC because we recognize that wealth and poverty are, in fact, relative and not absolute concepts?

Second, regardless of whether one feels rich - because, afterall, many who are statistically rich live well beyond their means and may as a result be living paycheck to paycheck - there is an objective reality to it.  We can't continue to govern our policy based on whether something feels rights; we have to start governing based on whether something is right.

Cutting spending, the "solution" I keep hearing from conservatives, can only ever be one part of a solution to our deficit, but it's unfortunately the part that will most grievously harm the 15% of the population we recognize as being poor.  If we really want to solve our problems, we need to have a better, clearer vision of what "rich" and "poor" are; they are the relatives in our scale of our reality.

But by being relative, there is likely to be some symmetry between their existence. We need to ensure that the expectation is symmetry is reflected in our policy choices.

I have a background and degrees that means that a significant percentage of my friends would classify as "rich" under the 2% scale. Very few will classify as "rich" under the new standard, and many more would classify as "rich" if we adopted a 15% of the population classification.  So I understand that several will be outraged at what I suggest. To those friends, I want to say congratulations. You are part of the solution to our country's woes.  It also happens that you're already rich,** even if you don't feel it.


* I do recognize the existence of the "Pareto efficiency," which finds that 80% of a population's wealth will generally be held in the hands of 20% of the population. 

**Unless, of course, you live in NYC, in which case whether you're rich or not is up for debate.

Call to Congress: the Need for More Research on Gun Control

As I've posted statistics and links to research on gun violence, a few people keep asking me why there isn't more information on specific indicators and variances between things like socioeconomic status, etc. 

The answer is now clear for me: the gun lobby has had Congress and state legislatures pass legislation that prevents research into the impact of gun ownership and possession on issues of crime, injury and death.

A small minor correction, really: the research can be funded only if it won't lead to advocating for gun regulations. So if your research will show that greater gun ownership is good for health, then you can be funded. If it shows that we need gun regulation, such research endangers the funding of entire institutions.

This strangling effect on our research prevents a more thorough and honest discussion about our available policy choices. 

Why? Perhaps because so far the evidence is conclusive: more guns equals more homicides. 

It's time for Congress to free up our researchers and allow for clearer policy discussions.

On trust and guns

I don't stop for people stranded on the road.  I mean, I have at times when I've prayed immediately before and it feels right in my gut.  But that's rare.  Usually I don't even pray about my decision, I just keep on driving.  It's not because I'm an unkind person.  And it's not because I can't relate to their situation. I was once stranded on the side of a busy road close to a steep (though not very long, thankfully) cliff.  My lights didn't work because the problem with the car was that the threads in my battery had been shredded so when I hit a bump, the entire battery stopped. I barely had enough time to get the car off the road and onto the precarious shoulder where I sat, waiting first for a friend to come and sit behind me with her flashers on and then for the tow truck, who first had to pull another car from the river that sat below me.

So I sympathize with people who are stranded.  But I still don't pull over for them.  I will, however, call the police or the Highway Patrol to tell them a car is stranded and they should go help.

I also don't accept candy or rides from strangers.  Admittedly, when I was 6 years old, it was my brother who stopped me from going too close to a car of strangers who offered candy in exchange for directions.  (Because when you're legitimately lost, the people you're most likely to ask for directions are an eight year old and three six year olds...)  After that, I very diligently stayed away from strangers in cars with candy.  When offered it, I was to call my parents and the police. (It's admittedly been a long time since that's happened).

As a child, I was not to let anyone - not even teachers, ministers, or doctors - touch my no-no places without my mother knowing. If they had ever told me not to tell, that's when I was supposed to scream the loudest. This is admittedly not the rule anymore in my 30s, but if I'm at a bar and put my drink down and walk away - even for just a few seconds - I never pick it up again. Hell, I've been known to be a complete pain to sweet-talking guys because if you seem too smooth, I'm also going to distrust you.  And I always lock my doors.

Why?  Because as an American, we're taught not to trust strangers. Too many people were killed when they were nicely helping strangers stranded on the road; too many children kidnapped with the promise of candy; and too many girls raped with roofies. Our news brings us regular stories of too-trusting individuals who are betrayed. Hollywood turns these stories into made-for-TV grist (or Pretty in Pink if we're talking about too-smooth guys).

We are a society that recognizes that you both earn trust and you give trust responsibly. Our children know "fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice; shame on me." (Or as President G.W. Bush said, "Fool me once, shame on... shame on you? If you fool me, you can't fool me again.")

So why is it that I'm supposed to blindly trust every American out there with a a semi-automatic weapon? Why is it that I'm supposed to just trust you to not kill my friends' children or my nephews and niece with weapons that have fewer licensing regulations than any of the 6 cars my immediate family owns?

That's ultimately what my gun-friendly friends on facebook keep telling me:  we don't need fewer guns, we need more of them; we should arm our teachers and our principals so these people we already don't pay enough for the jobs they do have can also be the people who we now trust to responsibly keep a semi-automatic weapon within 5 feet of our curious and industrious children and teenagers.

I'm supposed to just trust every guy who doesn't have a felony conviction, or a drug conviction in the last year, with a semi-automatic weapon. I have to hope they bought their weapon from a federally licensed dealer who did the mandatory background check and 3 day waiting period.

That's the reality of our gun regulations. I keep hearing about how tough US gun laws are and how they don't keep guns off the streets - just out of the hands of law-abiding citizens. Of the (at least) 62 gun-related mass murders since 1982 - mass murders being defined as 4 or more people killed in one incident - 49 of those used guns that were legally purchased.  3/4 of the 142 guns these killers had were legally obtained.

And if it feels like these shootings are occurring more frequently, that's because they does. Of those 62 mass shootings, 7 have happened this year alone. One a month from April through December except for June, October and November, 11 since 2010, and 25 since 2006.  This is by far the deadliest year with 7 shootings and 156 injured or killed.  1999 had five shootings, with 91 injured or killed, and then 2009, 2007 and 1993 had four shootings each (73, 86, and 57 injured or killed, respectively).

Yet somehow, I'm supposed to believe that all of this indicates we should have more people carrying weapons in more places. If more guns and looser regulations about where you can carry them are supposed to ensure greater safety, this should've been our safest year yet.  In the past decade, the number of states with concealed carry laws went from 29 to 49.  Only Illinois is not a concealed carry state, and their law was just struck down as unconstitutional by a federal appellate court.

Even in the wake of the Sandy Hook shooting, my home state's asshole Governor wants to make it easier for people to take weapons into areas where our state employees work, They have to trust every person who comes in with such a weapon to be a good guy. His justification?  It's not an issue of access to guns; it's a complicated issue of culture and mental health. His proof?  Apparently it's his gut instinct because he offers nothing else.

Assuming the Governor's gut instinct about the problem is correct, then let's fix those things first and then we can talk about loosening regulations. Don't regulate our society based on your gut instincts while doing nothing to fix any of the issues your gut tells you are the problems.

The fact that 2012 - with all its lax gun laws - wasn't safer shouldn't surprise those who research in this area. Those who more than their gut instinct to determine facts and truthiness say that access to guns is the problem.

Peer reviewed studies that control for poverty levels indicate more gun ownership results in a higher level of homicides or suicides.  This is true across federal states and across countries.  And no, Israel and Switzerland are not exceptions to the rule.

Yet, gun enthusiasts keep telling me I should trust them with these weapons. I should trust them and their gut belief that they would've been able to effectively use their weapon to stop the bad guys.  I'm supposed to trust them and their understanding of the situation rather than the statistical data that tell us a serious, long-term solution to this issue exists.  It involves controlling what types of guns can be sold, to whom, and under what conditions.

I was told not to use the words "gun control" because they evoke emotional responses.  I was told we already have gun control - with "tons" of regulations on gun ownership.  So let me explain our "gun regulations" that we have tons of.  Since I'm not an expert, I'm relying on these guys who are (again, academic research, not just some guy on the internet who says he's an expert because he likes shooting things).

According to them, many people who have been convicted of crimes that are still allowed to possess firearms under current laws. "Data from two studies of individuals who have committed the most serious crimes indicate that prior to committing these crimes, the perpetrators were not prohibited from possessing a firearm under federal law."

The prohibition on drug abusers owning weapons is limited only to persons with "a conviction for use or possession of a controlled substance within the past year; multiple arrests for such offenses within the past 5 years, if the most recent arrest occurred within the past year; or … [is] found through a drug test to use a controlled substance unlawfully, provided the test was administered within the past year." So you just need to wait a year after every drug conviction and you can get a gun. And then hope you don't get arrested again for a year because it apparently doesn't matter how many times you actually get convicted for drug abuse, as long as you're not arrested in the past year you're totally fine to own a gun. 

Oh, and that prohibition on drug abusers having access to semi-automatic assault rifles? It only affects people addicted to illegal drugs. Alcoholics - no matter how abusive or dangerous - are not prohibited from owning firearms. So if you like shooting shit up, alcohol should be your drug of choice. Go ahead - have 20 drunk driving convictions. That's totally fine!  Go ahead, get in a few barroom brawls. It's with a legal drug!  We're happy to give you a gun.

That 3-day waiting period all my gun-enthusiast friends hate?  You don't need if it you buy your gun from a guy on the street.  Private sales aren't required to have a 3-day waiting period.  They aren't required to register the sale.  And there's no need for that pesky little background check thing that would tell the seller that you're actually a convicted felon from another state who has killed 8 people.  If someone privately sells a weapon to someone with a felony record who then goes out and commits more felonies, the first person is immune from suit.  40% of firearms sales occur from private sales.  So 40% of our purchasers never undergo a background check.

If you are a licensed dealer and you have shady practices?  The ATF can't access data relating to gun trace evidence and use that in their licensing procedures.  So go ahead - screw that 3 day waiting period! You'll probably still get your next licensing.

That's the state of our gun control.  That's what I'm supposed to trust to weed out the bad guys who would harm our children.  That's the policy that protects my nephews and nieces from the next Adam Lanza walking into their school.

As for those for whom 'gun control' elicits an emotional response that makes you automatically defensive, let me say this clearly: if you are more emotionally attached to your gun than you are to those 26 people in Connecticut, then you really shouldn't be allowed to own a weapon.  Any weapon including scissors or really sharp nail files.  Those 26 people were real, living beings with dreams that were snatch and families that will mourn.  Your gun is a piece of scrap metal that was nicely crafted.  It has no emotions, no dreams, and it really doesn't given a damn about you.  If you can't see that difference, you really don't deserve sharp objects.

That brings me to my final point.  Under current regulations and the stated idea of the 2nd Amendment that so many people have, I'm supposed to trust people not because they have proven themselves, but because they happened to be born on American soil.  I'm supposed to trust people with unencumbered access to semi-automatic weapons because they were lucky their grandparents or great-grandparents immigrated to the US. 

The map in our living room tells me that in the past 3 months, people from over 16 countries have come to my home.  Some of those stickers represent friends I would trust with a semi-automatic assault weapon; some I wouldn't.  Most I would trust a lot more with a semi-automatic assault weapon more than I trust most of the Americans I know with such a weapon.  Why? Because as human rights activists, they have shown a great deal of respect for human dignity and for the sanctity of life.  Many Americans don't.  That's not because they're Americans; it's because they're humans.

We don't trust people simply because they have the same passport as we do.  If we did, I'd get into cars with strangers who have candy upon proof of a birth certificate.  I'd leave my drink unattended in any bar in Euclid, Ohio (because I've never met a foreigner there who wasn't traveling with me). I'd leave my doors unlocked and stop for every stranded car on I-71.  And my parents would've been perfectly happy leaving me unattended with doctors and teachers who wanted to touch my no-no areas.

We don't do that because simply being American doesn't mean you're trustworthy with the things most precious to us: our bodies, our children, and our lives.  That shouldn't change simply because you like shooting things.

http://on.wsj.com/Zd3fqb