Growing up in the United States, I never spent much time considering guns and gun ownership. I lived in a household with guns. I learned how to shoot those fire arms and, in addition to all five rights outlined in the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution, could easily quote the entirety of the Second Amendment as, "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." Guns were, and are, simply a reality of life in U.S. society.
Living in Canada is drastically different when considering guns. To be clear, Canada is not a gun-less society, and will likely never be. Canadians love their guns, too. So, how is it than in Canada there seems to be a drastically different relationship between guns and society?
I would articulate the differences with the following four points:
1. Registry. All guns and ammunition are required to be registered annually within Canada. Licenses must be renewed and licenses (and ultimately the firearms they permit) are revocable by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police due to inactivity or the sudden ineligibility of a licensee. They also require a first time licensees to complete a mandatory firearms safety course.
2. Tracking. There is a national database of registered, licensed guns and gun owners overseen by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and accessible by provincial and international law enforcement partners. This database includes photos of gun owners.
3. Restrictions on Ownership. There are reasons individuals in Canada are prevented from owning guns. These restrictions include court orders, domestic violence offenses (added in 2015), drug offenses, mental health concerns, potential risk to themselves or others, the provision of false information during the licensing process, unsafe firearm storage, and past, documented violent behaviour. More information regarding the numbers of individuals refused licenses on an annual basis may be found here.
4. Public Health and Safety. They WAY in which gun violence, among other social ills, are conceptualized and discussed within Canada is drastically different than in the United States. Here, they are fundamentally part of the larger conversations on public health and safety. When you share the costs of gun violence collectively in your pocket books - through the socialized health care system and higher taxes for public services- perhaps you have a drastically different perception on the damage that such violence takes on everyone.
What does all of this mean for my experience as an American living in Canada? Well, it largely means I live without fear. While guns exist in Canada, and certainly the unthinkable can happen anywhere, the likelihood that a friend, relative, or that I, myself will be the victim of gun violence is drastically lower than it was living in the United States. In 2015 in all of Canada, there were 178 firearm-related homicides in the entire country. By comparison, in 2014, the most recent year for which data were available, the State of South Carolina saw 767 deaths due to fire arms.
Without passing judgement on either country, there are some important points the U.S. could take from the Canadian experience. First, the ways in which we discuss gun violence matter. Offering condolences to those impacted sidesteps a discussion of the broader social causes and impacts gun violence costs everyone. Second, there are ways in which ownership can be restricted that reduce firearm-related homicides. Domestic violence offenses were added to the list of ownership restrictions in 2015 because many Canadians died at the hands of intimate partners without this restriction. It was possible to do this without making it impossible for other Canadians to lawfully own guns. Finally, allowing law enforcement a mechanism to track gun ownership does not prevent people from owning or using firearms.
For me, on a personal level, I carry a lighter cognitive load related to gun violence. Every time I sit at a service desk in my library, or teach in front of a classroom, or walk down the street by myself at night, I do not have to work at being vigilant in the same way I felt I did while living and working in the U.S. This is the personal benefit to living without that ever present fear. Would I give up my unfettered right to gun ownership again if given the choice knowing what the restrictions look like? Would you? What is that freedom from fear worth?
