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With the news of the tragic events this weekend in Tucson, many people are understandably grasping for reasons, explanations for the alleged shooter's behavior. What leads someone to commit such acts of violence? How are we to regard this suspect?
I, along with millions of viewers, have watched footage this weekend of the senseless nature of the shooting, as well as the selfless acts of courage of bystanders who stepped in to restrain and disarm the suspect, as well as provide immediate aid to the victims. Police and reporters are scrambling for new information as to the motive and mindset of this young man alleged to have pointed his pistol at innocent victims. We are all scrambling to understand what these events mean.
I'm reminded of other acts of tragic violence - Columbine, Virginia Tech, and the other "copy-cat" shootings, and I'm left with a strong sense of inner tension. I'm thinking as a psychologist - one who specializes in treating troubled kids (arguably, the suspect in this crime has also been troubled for some time). And yet, I'm also finding myself feeling as a father. A nine year old girl has lost her life for having the initiative to want to learn about politics and attend a rally hosted by Congresswoman Giffords. My own daughter is 8 months old. What if she were the victim? How much would I harbor desire for retribution against her murderer? Wouldn't it be odd if I didn't feel this way?
And yet, I'm reminded of stories I've heard of people who have met with the murderers of their children - forgiven them and shown them compassion. One example - In 1983 Pope John Paul II met with Mehmet Ali Agca, the man who had attempted to assassinate him, and forgave him for his act of violence. There's something here worth understanding.
Our brains are built for detecting threat and danger - it's what helped us survive. Structures deep inside (such as the "amygdala") set off alarm bells and motivate us to act. When we are faced with this sort of tragic violence, it's understandable that our brains spark us to anger - lead us to want to speak out, call for justice, demand accountability. In the extreme, some are motivated toward retribution - vengeance. These "limbic" structures in our brains act quickly and can surge with activity that leaves your "thinking" brain (the "prefrontal cortex") struggling to keep up, to slow things down.
We must all remember that our brains can lead us astray. Though anger and distress are more than understandable, their momentum need not be our destiny - we can choose what to do, and we can choose how to best frame these events inside our minds so that when we do act, we act in ways that will ripple out to actually decrease the likelihood of such hate for the future.
On December 15, I published a blog entry entitled "Hard Feelings: How Empathy Escapes Us." I wrote of the kids I work with who can often act aggressively, to the detriment of those around them. I talked of how tempting it is for us to make a common perceptual error ("correspondence bias") and jump to negative, damning labels that minimize the role of context and history on the creation of these actions. In that particular blog entry, I make a call for a more compassionate consideration of each other's behavior.
Make no mistake, there is no excusing and apologizing for acts of murder. The attacker, when shown to be guilty, should indeed face punishment for his behavior. We certainly must hate these behaviors, but we would do well to not let the hate spread to the all of a human being.
Pope John Paul II knew something of this. So did others you might have heard of - Martin Luther King, Jr., Mahatma Gandhi, and a young woman I once treated who told me of her forgiveness for the family member who had molested her. We need never accept these detestable acts. We do need to let our anger and hate (and ultimately, sadness) dissipate harmlessly within us. We then need to find ways to reach out with a fierce compassion. We should say no to violence with energy and tireless effort. We should never doubt the more lasting power of compassion for diminishing the threatening fires within some of us. Hate will only fester and grow as a societal cancer. Compassion leads us to curative results such as early detection of those at risk for violence, creation of barriers to their hate-spawned behavior, and acts of antidotal caring and consideration offered to others that might otherwise leave space to later be filled by something foul.
The Buddha once spoke of the "two arrows" - the first is the painful event we experience. In this case, the tragic shootings in Tucson. The second arrow is the one we shoot into ourselves by reacting with anger, resentment, hatred and calls for retribution. We cannot escape some arrows. Others are up to us.
Thankfully, with effort and attention, our brains can learn to keep the second arrow in the quiver.
