FIRST comes grief, then outrage and then failed gun-control bills in Congress: the ritual that follows a mass shooting in America is wearyingly familiar. After 49 people were murdered in Orlando, the cycle hit warp speed. Less than ten days after the bodies arrived in the morgue, the Senate voted against introducing universal background checks on gun purchases, a measure that has the support of close to 90% of Americans. In a sign of their frustration, House Democrats staged a sit-in in Congress, as part of an attempt to get a vote on gun control (which they would almost certainly lose). Will America ever follow other rich countries and introduce far-reaching restrictions on gun ownership?
There are powerful reasons for pessimism. The vetoes wielded in Congress by those who take an expansive view of gun rights is one. The prevailing interpretation of the Second Amendment is another. Add that half of gun owners now say they own firearms for self-protection, up from a quarter at the beginning of the century, stir in lobbying by the National Rifle Association (NRA), and change looks impossible. Indeed, mass shootings tend to be followed by a spike in gun sales and a renewed desire in many states to loosen gun laws.
But pessimism can sink too deep. The near absolutist position on gun rights, which leads lawmakers to pass bills like the one in Florida that makes it difficult for doctors to ask patients whether they have a gun at home, is the product of a particular moment in the history of gun ownership. Though it might not seem so after the Orlando shooting, forces are pushing against the notion that more guns are always better and that people who decline to carry a weapon are failing in their duty as citizens. Look far enough into the future and it is possible to see how America might one day confront its gun problem.
Some states have made a start. On the day that the Senate rejected four gun-control measures, the Supreme Court decided not to query the bans on some semi-automatic weapons adopted in New York and Connecticut. Banned guns can be smuggled across state lines, but such laws do make it slightly harder to kill lots of people in a confined space quickly. All told, 18 states have laws mandating background checks. National policy changes often bubble up from the states. In time, gun laws may follow the same trajectory.
The Glock block
The place of guns in American life is not fixed—which is why the NRA fights every proposed curb. Since the shootings at Fort Hood, San Bernardino and now Orlando, the availability of guns has been discussed in the same sentence as terrorism. Perhaps not coincidentally, support for universal background checks has risen.
Counting America's mass shootings
Until the 1990s, many who owned rifles and shotguns for hunting thought handguns disreputable. As crime went up, the idea of gun ownership as self-protection took hold. Now that crime rates are lower, gun owners’ views might revert.
The most enthusiastic owners, who take a libertarian position, tend to be white. African-Americans and Hispanics are more likely to think that guns are wielded by gangs. As the country becomes less white, support for the absolutist view of the Second Amendment may weaken. A new Supreme Court, with justices appointed by a Democrat, could embody that.
It is a mistake to view gun violence as a natural phenomenon like the twisters that tear across the plains states or the hurricanes sent north and west from the Caribbean. Gun violence is the product of a set of American choices that, compared with other rich countries, are harmful and extreme. Although after Orlando it may not seem so, such choices can be unchosen.
This article appeared in the Leaders section of the print edition under the headline "Control, alt, delete"
