When a law enforcement officer shoots a Black person, as happened Aug. 23 to Jacob Blake in Kenosha, the incident rightfully reignites the national debate about racism, policing and lethal force.
Blake did not suffer the same fate as other high-profile shootings — he is alive and paralyzed instead of dead and buried — but to get shot in the back seven times is incomprehensible. However, no matter the outcome, we must label the incident for what it is: gun violence.
The broader debate about the nearly 40,000 annual firearm-related deaths in the United States tends to stereotype criminality and mental illness. “Bad guys” with guns commit homicides, “depressed” people commit suicide, and “crazed” killers go on shooting rampages. This is a narrow view of gun violence that overlooks the impact of officer-involved shootings, especially for Black Americans.
Black people bear the greatest burden of police gun violence. Multiple sources, including the FBI, report that police officers are nearly three times more likely to fatally shoot a Black suspect than a white suspect. To date, in 2020, more than 650 people have been fatally shot by police. That is more than the 400 people killed in the combined total of all mass shootings this year. Of these officer-involved shootings, 28% of the victims are Black despite representing only 13% of the population.
Of course, this begs the question: Why are Black victims overrepresented in fatal police shootings?
The presumption of criminality justifying fatal shootings is misleading. First, violent crime in the U.S. is at record lows, continuing a downtrend since its peak in the early 1990s. Still, for nearly a decade, fatal shootings of civilians by law enforcement remain constant at about 1,000 victims per year. Second, Black people are 1.3 times less likely to be armed than their white counterparts during police encounters. Decreasing violent crime has not resulted in a proportionate decrease in police shootings, and Black people, who are less likely to have a gun, are more likely to be shot and killed.
Black-on-Black crime is also a misnomer. It is true that the majority of Black homicides are committed by Black people. However, the same is true for white people. According to the Department of Justice, people living below the federal poverty level are twice as likely to commit violent crimes. Since rigid racial segregation still defines American society, poor Black people live in neighborhoods with majority Black populations, and poor white people live in neighborhoods with majority white populations. Violent crime, and by extension gun violence, is a byproduct of proximity and economic divestment.
So if we accept that gun violence is death by firearm, no matter who pulls the trigger, and that Black Americans bear a disproportionate burden of police gun violence, what should we do?
First, we must broaden our definition of gun violence to include the impact of lethal force used by law enforcement against Black Americans. Gun violence is more than homicides, suicides and mass shootings. It includes intimate partner violence, unintentional deaths of children and fatal shootings by police affecting communities marginalized by race and ethnicity.
Second, we must approach gun violence reduction by placing the role of the shooters and guns into the larger context of public health and avoidable firearm-related deaths. In short, separate the people from the problem. To accept that Americans have the right to own guns for self-protection is not mutually exclusive from ensuring our right to be safe and healthy within our communities, free of gun violence.
Last, given the choice, would you feel safer being Black or white in an encounter with the police? We can still “Back the Blue” while demanding accountability for police use of lethal force. It is not about punishment. It is not about disempowerment. It is about a collaborative commitment to public health and safety.
Whether you are an advocate for expanded gun rights or increased gun control, the role of law enforcement in the fatal shootings of Black people can no longer be dismissed. At this moment in history, It is incumbent upon us all to do our part to recognize our shared humanity and defend our basic human rights. And to do that you don’t need a badge or a gun.
Dr. Brian Williams is an associate professor of trauma and acute care surgery at the University Of Chicago Medicine and former chair of the City Of Dallas Citizens Police Review Board.
Submit a letter, of no more than 400 words, to the editor here or email letters@chicagotribune.com.
Get our latest editorials, commentaries and columns, delivered twice a week in our Fighting Words newsletter. Sign up here.
