A Comforting Diversion: Why Did Trump's Mass Shooting Speech Shift the Blame to Mental Illness, not Guns?

Donald Trump, White House portrait

When President Donald Trump spoke yesterday from the Diplomatic Reception Room of the White House to respond to the horrors of the mass shootings in El Paso, Texas and Dayton, Ohio, he explained a complex set of causes and accompanying solutions for America’s epidemic of mass shootings. Mostly, the president was diverting attention from public policy – gun control – focusing instead on individual morality. More exactly, he focused on mental illness – which has little to do with morality – as a way to ignore public policy. It is easier to condemn people than it is to fix social problems. Because it is not mental illness that causes our violence problem.

As soon as I joined my high school debate team, I was taught the stock issues, which explain the most basic rules of public policy: find out what harms exist today, figure out what causes them, and then look for a solution. Years later, I wrote some articles about that exact topic. (Click the button above for my publications.) Trump (like most conservatives) misdiagnoses the cause, and so he misses the obvious solutions.

What did the president’s rhetoric reveal about our national psyche, about how we understand the problems of violence, and about how the president tapped into our fears? Like millions of people, Trump viewed the killings as a moral problem of individuals, and not as something wrong that society itself could correct.

During my years as a university professor, I devoted my career to research and study. It was my job to learn things according to the best facts and to pass that knowledge on to my students. Overcoming our common beliefs, some of which are comforting but wrong, was often my biggest challenge. The gun debate is marked by diversion, wrong social science, incorrect preconceived beliefs that evidence does not support.

So, yes, the killers were evil: Trump was right to call the El Paso shooter “a wicked man.” He was right to talk about families “shopping with their loved ones.” He was right to call the Dayton shooter “a twisted monster.” But does any of that help solve our problem? Psychopaths – people who lack conscience – live all over the world; why is it only the United States that has such an epidemic of mass shootings?

If we misdiagnose the problem, however, that means we are going to misprescribe the solution. That’s exactly what Trump did wrong.

First, Trump condemned the “racist hate” that seems to have motivated the El Paso shooter. Many critics, who think that Trump’s own incendiary rhetoric contributed to our culture of violence, found this ironic. Still, this was the first time I have ever heard Trump complain about “these sinister ideologies” or “condemn racism, bigotry, and white supremacy.” That, at least, is a start. Maybe there is hope for him. And, yet, is he not diverting our attention from his own association with bigotry and white supremacy? 

Second, Trump complained about the Internet, which can “radicalize disturbed minds.” When we talk about “disturbed minds,” we are already focusing on mental disturbances – on mental illness. Aren’t we?

Trump offered four solutions: to act on early warning signs, to stop glorifying violence in video games and television, to “reform our mental health laws,” and to prevent dangerous people from gaining firearms. He called for an end to “destructive partisanship” – good luck with that! As he reached his conclusion, Trump again focused on mental health: “It is not up to mentally ill monsters; it is up to us.” Guns were not the problem, he said: “Mental illness and hatred pulls the trigger, not the gun.” History should remember and deplore Trump’s statement. It isn’t the gun, he says; it isn’t even the person, but the mental illness. He's wrong, and there are two problems when he says things like that:

Two problems:

First, Trump’s diagnosis was wrong. Few mass shooters are mentally ill. They are angry; many are political radicals; many have led frustrating lives. Their bad attitudes may prevent them from succeeding in the workplace or in romance. Many of them lack a normal conscience. None of that is mental illness. Nor do mass shooters “snap.” As psychiatrist Michael Stone points out, most mass shooters plan their killings for days, weeks, or years before they conduct them. Those are not the acts of people who snap; those are the acts of people who plan in great detail how to lash out at their fellow humans.

Dr. Rosie Phillip Davis, President of the American Psychological Association, issued this statement after the shootings; her point was that, according to research, mental illness does not cause these mass shootings:

“Routinely blaming mass shootings on mental illness is unfounded and stigmatizing. Research has shown that only a very small percentage of violent acts are committed by people who are diagnosed with, or in treatment for, mental illness. The rates of mental illness are roughly the same around the world, yet other countries are not experiencing these traumatic events as often as we face them. One critical factor is access to, and the lethality of, the weapons that are being used in these crimes. Adding racism, intolerance and bigotry to the mix is a recipe for disaster.” 

In part, society wants to hide from evil. It tempts us to pretend that evil doesn’t exist. The most common explanation that people give for Hitler, for example, is that he was “crazy.” That’s ridiculous. Hitler became Chancellor of Germany by winning an election. He was a baby-kissing, grandmother-hugging, speechmaking politician of consummate skill. His program of violence and cruelty was planned for years, and Germany, a nation that was a center of religion, art, music, philosophy, and science, united behind him to carry out his program. A psychotic person couldn’t do that. Anyone who thinks about it for 10 seconds should realize that a severely mentally ill person cannot do that. When I taught history of public speaking, I told my students that Hitler was not crazy but that he was evil. They snickered. They didn’t want to believe in evil.

We regular people, however, who think of ourselves as normal, don’t want to admit that something is wrong with our society. We don’t want to admit that mass murderers are more like the rest of us than we want to think. If we call Hitler or the El Paso shooter or the Dayton shooter crazy, then we can place a distance between ourselves and the forces of evil. That, I’m sure, reassures us a little bit. But it distracts us from good policy. Many points get ignored; for example, the military-style ammunition that many mass shooters load into their weapons cause far more damage than a handgun. But do we think that ammunition is mentally ill? Of course not.

Few people want to admit that their ideology is wrong; it's easier to make excuses. Blaming gun violence on mental illness is an excuse. I think many people listening to Trump believe it. Again, it's easy to believe excuses. If we think that it is crazy people who commit violence, then we think the solution is to deal with crazy people. We think that the solution is to fear the mentally ill. And we would think wrongly.

P.S. Much was made of Trump's comment that the Ohio shooting happened in Toledo, not Dayton. Pretty careless. 

Hear! Hear! Three Cheers for (Tasteful and Witty) Heckling

I promised to explain how heckling can be good. Most heckling is awful (see my previous posts here and here), and few American speakers or audiences have the skill, cultural background, and training to deal with heckling. But, if handled well, heckling can correct errors, force speakers to stick to the issue, and improve speaker-audience interaction.

Heckling is one way to make communication two-way. If the speaker says something that the audience likes, they can call out “yes!” This happens in many churches: the preacher says something that the people approve, and they shout “Amen!” That’s heckling, of a sort, and is usually very positive.

In the parliaments of British Commonwealth nations, the honorable members deploy several standard heckling methods. If the speaker says something they like, they can shout, “hear, hear!” If the speaker suggests something awful, they can shout, “shame, shame.” Suppose the speaker asks, “Will we ever surrender to terrorism?” The audience can shout “never,” increasing their solidarity.

When I took a class in the history of British public speaking during my postgraduate studies at Northern Illinois University, the late Professor Margaret Wood explained that a demagogue like Joseph McCarthy might never arise in the United Kingdom. You may recall that in 1950 McCarthy gave a speech in West Virginia in which he said, “I have here in my hand a list of 205 that were known to the Secretary of State as being members of the Communist Party and who nevertheless are still working and shaping the policy of the State Department.” On other occasions, McCarthy said that his list had 87 names, 57 names, or other numbers. Rumors circulated that all he had was a laundry list. McCarthy never presented any names and gave no evidence to support his conspiracy theory. Yet his wild accusations spread disorder and suspicion across the United States.

Anyway, Professor Wood’s point was that in the United Kingdom, where people knew how to heckle, somebody would have shouted, “Name three of them, Joe.” McCarthy could not have named even one communist in the State Department, and his conspiracy theory and reign of terror over our country might have stopped right then and there. Sheer embarrassment would have ended McCarthy’s paranoid tirades. The heckler would not need to chant. The heckler would not need to disrupt the proceedings for more than a couple seconds. A single quick question would have done the job. Note that refuting McCarthy a day or two later, as was done, would not have the same effect as calling him out on the spot. Asking the question in a news interview a week later would not have the same effect, for McCarthy would have the opportunity to dissemble and wiggle away. No, a single, sharp, precise heckle right on the spot would have been the solution.

Other advantages of heckling: tasteful, witty, concise heckling increases audience involvement and helps them stay interested. The speaker can get precise, immediate feedback as to the audience’s reaction. This gives the speaker a chance to answer the audience’s concerns, to develop points about which the audience is unsure, and to establish more human contact with them.

In a survey, members of the Canadian Parliament said that heckling was a problem, although most of them admitted doing it. They said they heckled when a speaker was “spreading misinformation.” They often heckled “in response to incorrect facts or perceived untruths, listing words like ‘lies,’ ‘shame,’ or ‘rubbish,’ as things they say.” They often heckle when they think the speaker is too partisan. Former Canadian Speaker of the House, Andrew Scheer, agreed that very partisan speakers are often heckled, while speakers who make statements and ask questions “in a factual way” find that the House listens quietly and respectfully.

Let’s compare that to the United States Congress. There is little heckling in today’s Congress because, for the most part, the members are speaking to an empty room and their only purpose is to create a transcript or video that they can show to their constituents. Little real deliberation takes place.  (As part of my research about President William McKinley’s public speaking, I read transcripts of his speeches to Congress. In those days, Congress still engaged in real debate, and McKinley handled hecklers thoughtfully and with respect.)

Anyway, heckling is a communication art, and, like all arts, requires skill, knowledge, and practice. Audiences who wish to master it should study it.

P.S.: Credit to Professor Kurt Ritter, a debate coach and master heckler, from whom I learned much.

P.P.S.: My publications about William McKinley don’t actually cover heckling, but if you click the “William D. Harpine’s Publications” button above, you can learn about what I did write.

Bad Heckling Example #4: Mike DeWine Got Heckled at a Prayer Vigil for the Dayton Victims

A bunch of people heckled Ohio Governor Mike DeWine yesterday. They did a poor job of it.

I didn’t expect to write about bad heckling again so soon, nor under such horrible circumstances. Over the weekend, mass shootings in El Paso and Dayton, both reportedly committed with powerful large-magazine rifles, reignited the gun control debate. Most Republicans, who are heavily supported by the National Rifle Association, have been hiding in their offices and refusing to talk about it. 

To his credit, Ohio's Republican Governor Mike DeWine, who has a history of both favoring and opposing gun control (he is a politician, after all), spoke at a prayer rally for the victims in Dayton. He made some vacuous comments. Doves were released. An excellent singer sang a lovely song.

Some crowd members cheered DeWine’s comments. Another group chanted “Do something,” loudly, over and over, while pumping their fists, for a few minutes. This interrupted the proceedings, made it hard for the speakers to continue, and was not prayerful.

Yes, on the one hand, DeWine’s speech or prayer - or whatever it was -  was insipid. Yes, at least the hecklers had some content. Conservative politicians sometimes have a few words after these tragedies: “thoughts and prayers” being the most common. That obviously isn't the answer. Citing evidence, liberals think that gun control is a partial answer. When they shouted “Do something,” the hecklers meant that words were not enough and they wanted governmental action. They wanted to nudge the governor along. That was good.

That does not, on the other hand, mean that they were good hecklers. They did a terrible job of heckling. Now, it was good to remind DeWine that wishy-washy public statements weren’t enough. It was good to demand action. Heckling is a quick way to put things right. But:

1. Their chant was, in its own way, as insipid as DeWine’s prayer/speech. “Do something?” How unimaginative can they get?

2. Also, you don’t heckle a prayer vigil. Period. Heckling a prayer vigil is pretty much the defining case of boorish heckling.

3. A good heckler spits out one quick, incisive, funny or thought-provoking comment and then gets quiet. DeWine's hecklers chanted long enough to interrupt the proceedings and prevent the speaker from being heard. That’s not true heckling. That was obstruction. That violated free speech principles. That was bad.

4. Finally, the protesters' heckling was neither witty or enlightening. Good hecklers have a twinkle in their eyes and a smirk on their faces. These guys were just angry.

So, give the Dayton hecklers one point for trying to put DeWine back on track. Give them a few hundred demerits for being boring, rude, and disruptive. They added little to the mass shooting debate. They looked bad. They sounded bad. They made liberals look bad.

Promise: today isn't the day, but, sooner or later, I will write about how to heckle properly. It can be done. All communication goes two ways, back and forth. Heckling, done right, helps two-way communication.