If you are looking for a book that centers on the shooting of Gabrielle Giffords and eighteen other people at the Safeway in Tucson, Arizona on January 8, 2011, this is not the book for you. It is not a true crime story, unless of course you consider the transformations taking place in contemporary American society that facilitate these types of crimes criminal. It is those transformations that are the real focus of this book. No, the author does not strictly blame the gun culture of American society, although yes he certainly points out that in Arizona, one does not have to have a permit to carry a concealed weapon and that the state does not bar a mentally ill person from buying a gun (so long as they have not been convicted of a felony). And yes, he also mentions that just four months after Giffords was shot, the governor of Arizona signed a bill that made the Colt Single Action Army Revolver the state gun of Arizona. But he would also be the first to admit that the American fascination with firearms is not the sole culprit. Instead, he offers a much more nuanced look at a variety of contributing factors. These factors include fairly recent developments, such as the new climate of anything goes on social media and the rise of shock jocks that spread hate not for ideological reasons but in order to improve ratings. They also include more longterm developments, such as the rise of suburban culture and its emphasis on anonymity, rather than community and the dismantling of mental health programs in Arizona and elsewhere.
I would have given this book five stars, except for its rambling style, which may turn some readers off. The author moves from topic to topic that at first seem to have no direct connection to the question at hand: Why did this shooting happen? What could have prevented the senseless death of 6 people, including a nine-year-old child? He goes into a fairly in depth discussion of the history of Arizona and of Tucson -- all the way to Spanish settlement -- in order to give readers a sense of the area's political culture and the issues that divide the state. At first glance, this much background information seems overkill, especially when the author does not preface this history with any claim about its relevance to his topic. But if you bear with these seeming detours, one soon discovers that they are not detours at all. Through this history, he slowly points out the unresolved conflicts of Arizona and of the United States at large: immigration, racism, poverty and joblessness, gun rights, the rise of the Tea Party, the breakdown of community, virulent political culture, and the economy of a state based on cheap land that was hard hit by the collapse of the real estate market in 2000.
He warns against accepting the easy answer -- namely that Jared Lee Loughner, a 22-year-old undiagnosed schizophrenic, was simply a crazed lone gunman acting on his delusions. This is the answer that the Arizona legislature accepted, so that it could turn a blind eye to larger issues, starting with the fact that later the very same year that Giffords was shot, the state introduced 36 million dollars in cuts to the budget for mental healthcare services. No one also thought about the fact that although schizophrenics are delusional, as Zoellner points out, their delusions do not develop in a vacuum, rather they are reflective of the culture in which that person lives. S0-called sane people in the United States have increasingly promoted a political discourse that does not allow for different points of view. For example, Sara Palin of Alaska (and also owner of a multimillion dollar home in Arizona) kept a "target list" of lawmakers that she wanted to see removed during the next election cycle. Gaby's district was on that list -- designated by crosshairs, i.e. a pair of fine wires or lines crossing at right angles at the focus of an optical instrument or gun sight. Palin later tweeted, "Don't Retreat. Instead RELOAD." The author certainly does not suggest that the shooting was Palin's fault, but he does raise questions about the violent rhetoric and hatred that has become commonplace in political discourse. In addition to Palin's remarks, Giffords' opponent also spewed vitriol, comparing immigrants to terrorists and denouncing the federal government for any intervention in state affairs. Then there are the shock jocks spreading conspiracy theories because they sell, not caring that some actually believe them, even think it is real news. Not to mention those who called her office in the months leading up to the shooting to call her a "Communist bitch."
And then, there is the question what if someone, anyone, had stepped up to the plate and done something about Loughner, who was obviously delusional? Loughner had been a student at Pima community college until shortly before the shooting:
"He made so many bizarre statements in his Pima College classes that students and school officials got worried. The college police finally went to his house and read him a suspension notice, telling him he could not come back unless he had a statement verifying his mental health signed by a professional. But there is no indication that anybody tried to get any help for him. H. Clarke Romans, the executive director of the Tucson chapter of the National Alliance for the Mentally Ill, describes the college's response as: 'Let's solve this problem by removing it from the area of our responsibility.'"
And in fact, avoidance has become the hallmark of our society. We no longer interact with our neighbors. As we have relocated to suburbs, we have moved houses farther back off the road; we have placed garages at the front of the house, shifting the center of activity from the front porch to a closed off backyard, where we can keep the neighbors out. There is no village to raise children anymore; there is mainly isolation:
"I know this instinctively, because I grew up in one of those subdivisions, and I have not forgotten the loneliness. When I was 11, in 1980, my parents moved us from Phoenix to what was then the edge of Tucson, into a new subdivision that had a typical arbitrary name, Shadow Hills, about two miles from the Safeway. A Texas megacorporation, U.S. Home, had bought two square miles of desert and bladed streets that ignored the natural contours, with names like Camino Alberca (Swimming Pool Street) and Camino Padre Isidoro (Father Isidoro Street). To this day I have no idea who Father Isidoro was or if he even existed or was just a developer's picturesque invention. On the side of our house was a limbless saguaro cactus that was slowly dying; one of the men who helped build the house had shot it repeatedly with a pneumatic nail gun, so its flank was full of rusting metal and its ribs were rotting from the wounds. There were no sidewalks; I rode my bicycle in endless circuits past other houses that were like locked-up boxes. I knew no one in them, and seldom saw our neighbors except when they were sealed inside their cars."
Zoellner gives no easy solutions to these problems, but does state clearly that we must first recognize them as problems if we are to overcome them. We cannot dismiss such shootings as the actions of a lone gunman, rather we must recognize our part in creating the atmosphere in which a mentally ill individual becomes isolated and falls through the cracks. We must recognize the lack of civility that characterizes our current political discourse and the ways in which it encourages violence. And most importantly, we must relearn to reach out to one another, to empathize, and to listen, rather than simply judge or ignore.