I’ve long believed that increasing the sentence for homicide can’t cut the murder rate because 90% of people who kill do so when they’re too damned angry, jealous, scared, drunk, or high to think straight. Acting under irresistible impulse, they ain’t stopping to think. Or can’t.
The book, Unforgiving Places, by Jens Ludwig, makes this point vividly. Our legislators and those who yammer at them about crime should read it, or at least Malcolm Gladwell’s New Yorker piece on it, as should law enforcement officials.
The book recounts as an example a 2023 murder. A woman, leaving her teen aged son in the car, goes into a cheap fast-food place and places her order. This big guy behinds her keeps telling her to hurry up. He warns that if she says another word he’ll punch her. She says something to her son, who’s now in the doorway behind the guy. The guy slugs her. Twice. Her shocked 14-year-old son shoots the man, then chases him outside and kills him.
The big guy knew (and assumed she knew) that, in order to move fast, that place didn’t take special orders. Hers was one. So he thought she was selfishly holding everyone up, and then disrespecting him for calling her on it. She thought he was just a jerk. Her son, seeing Mom get punched, wasn’t calculating the penalty for murder.
We each have two ways of thinking.
Criminologists distinguish between instrumental violence (shooting a bank guard to facilitate a robbery) and expressive violence (expressing my rage or jealousy with fists or pistol). Almost all murders are expressive, so laws designed to minimize instrumental murders won’t much change the overall murder rate.
Cops must know this; but criminal laws are written as if that guy in the fast-food joint is as rational as Warren Buffett analyzing all the facts and deciding rationally whether or not to buy a failing business. No. Mostly, people do things on impulses, out of anger or jealousy or because a sudden unexpected opportunity arises to steal some stuff or break things. Consider the recent fatal shootings in Young Park. No one was laying for anyone. No one gained anything. Just happened.
A Chicago program called Becoming a Man teaches teenagers how to handle potentially volatile encounters. In a large randomized trial, Ludwig found that at-risk students who had participated in BAM got arrested for violent crimes 50% less than their peers who hadn’t taken the course. San Francisco’s RSVP program similarly reduced recidivism in violence-prone prisoners, and Boston’s “Operation Ceasefire” (aka the Boston Miracle) achieved a 63% reduction in youth homicides within two years.
Our governor and legislators should contemplate that. It makes perfect sense, too. Sudden moments of anger or fear are tough. Some folks’ lives make those way tougher. If you can get their ears, and enhance both their ability and their motivation to forego violence, some of them will succeed in that when pushed.
Here’s another fact: in dangerous Philadelphia neighborhoods, a group beautifies vacant lots, clearing weeds, planting a lawn, removing trash. Where nothing else has changed, gun violence crime is down 29%.
Our city is actually doing some good things; but there likely are more good ideas in play out there. It’d help for lawmakers to recognize that most of the “criminals” aren’t our “enemies.” They’re us: fellow humans whose road to a calm adulthood was blocked or twisted more than ours was.
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[The above column appeared Sunday, 8 June, 2025, in the Las Cruces Sun-News, and on the newspaper’s webiste and the KRWG website (under Local Viewpoints). A shortened and sharpened radio commentary version will air during the week on KRWG (90.1 FM) and on KTAL-LP (101.5 FM / http://www.lccommunityradio.org/). That website also contains station archives.]
[ The most-recent New Yorker issue has Malcolm Gladwell’s discussion of these matters and Ludwig’s book. I’m a long-time admirer of Gladwell, since reading the New Yorker piece he later expanded to the really interesting book, Blink. I still recommend it. ]
[ One BAM exercise divides young men into pairs. In each, one holds a big ball. The other is told he has 30 seconds to get the ball from the other. Each man struggles to hit the ball or pry the other man’s fingers loose. Afterward, the host asks why no one tried just asking if he could have the ball. The general answer was, “well, he’d think I was a [wimp].” The guy holding the ball, asked what he’d do if asked for the ball, said, “I’d give it to him. It’s just a stupid ball.” ]
