I will never get over the fact that our society seems to be producing a steady stream of young men who find it heroic to murder innocent people. I have read their history. I look at social science research. I’ve tried to understand the typical path they take to get to their bad behavior.
Mass shooters are often said to have mental health problems, but that is often misleading. This has been investigated in various ways. A majority of mass shooters do not suffer from a diagnosed mental illness† It is usually the circumstances that lead them to do what they do, not an underlying disease.
The more correct place to start is with something George Bernard Shaw wrote many years ago: “The worst sin against our fellow creatures is not to hate them, but to be indifferent to them: that is the essence of inhumanity.”
These young men are often ghosts. They often experience early childhood trauma, such as abuse or extreme bullying. No one knows them at school. Boys and girls turn their backs on them. Later, when journalists interview their teachers or neighbors, they are remembered as withdrawn and aloof. These young men often lack social skills. Why does nobody like me? As one researcher put it, they are not necessarily loners; they are failed carpenters.
They harden themselves in their loneliness. As an acquaintance of a mass shooter told GQ magazine, “He was quiet, uncomfortably quiet, strangely quiet. I mean really strange.” People don’t realize how much they long for the recognition of the world until that recognition is denied, and when it is, they creep in.
The stressors pile up: bad at school, bad at work, humiliating encounters with others. It feels shameful to be so unworthy of human attention. We see ourselves as others see us, and when no one sees us, our sense of self disintegrates. They are ill-equipped to deal with their pain.
Many consider suicide. This is an important point. Mass murder is often a form of suicide and can be treated in the same way as suicide. In their desperation, many seem to have what is almost tantamount to an identity crisis. Is it my fault or is it the world’s fault? Am I a loser or are they losers?
And this is where victimhood turns into rogue. Those who become mass shooters decide they are Superman, and it is the world that is full of ants. They decide to kill themselves in a way that will selfishly give them what they crave most: to be known, to be recognized, to be famous.
They make a story in which they are the hero. The world is evil, and they will resist the world. Or the world is in catastrophic danger. The blacks/Jews/women are destroying us and they will strike back. These internet-based stories have an exciting power. They make them feel fair, strong and important. People whose lives dissolve into chaos will understand any black-and-white story that offers order and purpose.
Of course, the stories are all evil madness. “Loneliness clouds,” wrote Giovanni Frazzetto in his book “Together, Closer.” “It becomes a misleading filter through which we see ourselves, others and the world.”
The weapons also seem to have some sort of psychological effect. For people who have felt powerless all their lives, the weapons seem to give an almost numbing sense of power. Perhaps it’s the pleasure they feel posing with their guns that pushes some of them over the edge. The guns are like snakes in the trees, whispering to them.
At this point their view of ideal human relationships is sick. It’s not friend-friend. It’s a star fan. The only form of human companionship they can imagine is broadcasting themselves on a screen and the faceless crowds watching and reposting.
They begin to map out their disaster. It’s a theatrical performance. They want it to be as public and spectacular as possible. Many are not secretive about this. They tell people. They post videos. They consider themselves members of the brotherhood of killers and wallow in delusions of grandeur. But even at the last minute, especially among young people, there is often a last-minute cry for help. They want someone to tell them, You don’t have to do this.
The most influential article I read during the investigation that this column was written by Tom Junod in Esquire in 2014. He interviewed a young man who, according to prosecutors, was planning to commit a mass shooting but was caught before he could begin. (The man pleaded guilty to carjacking and served time for it.)
When he got out of jail, he looked at his old high school yearbook and was shocked. Fellow students had signed it and offered to meet in the summer. People reached out, but he’d been too busy with himself to see it.
On the day he went out armed with guns, ammunition and machete, he wouldn’t do it. It was like a painful duty. He told Junod, “I wanted attention. If someone had come to me and said, ‘You don’t have to do this, you don’t have to have this strange power, we accept you,’ I would have collapsed and given up.’
These things are bad, but not inevitable.