On a June evening two years ago, Dan Rather made many stiff
British upper lips quiver by reporting that England had a crime
problem and that, apart from murder, "theirs is worse than
ours." The response was swift and sharp. "Have a Nice
Daydream," The Mirror, a London daily, shot back,
reporting: "Britain reacted with fury and disbelief last
night to claims by American newsmen that crime and violence are
worse here than in the US." But sandwiched between the
article’s battery of official denials -- "totally
misleading," "a huge over-simplification,"
"astounding and outrageous" -- and a compilation of
lurid crimes from "the wild west culture on the other side
of the Atlantic where every other car is carrying a gun," The
Mirror conceded that the CBS anchorman was correct. Except
for murder and rape, it admitted, "Britain has overtaken
the US for all major crimes."
In the two years since Dan Rather was so roundly rebuked,
violence in England has gotten markedly worse. Over the course
of a few days in the summer of 2001, gun-toting men burst into
an English court and freed two defendants; a shooting outside a
London nightclub left five women and three men wounded; and two
men were machine-gunned to death in a residential neighborhood
of north London. And on New Year’s Day this year a 19-year-old
girl walking on a main street in east London was shot in the
head by a thief who wanted her mobile phone. London police are
now looking to New York City police for advice.
None of this was supposed to happen in the country whose
stringent gun laws and 1997 ban on handguns have been hailed as
the "gold standard" of gun control. For the better
part of a century, British governments have pursued a strategy
for domestic safety that a 1992 Economist article
characterized as requiring "a restraint on personal liberty
that seems, in most civilised countries, essential to the
happiness of others," a policy the magazine found at odds
with "America’s Vigilante Values." The safety of
English people has been staked on the thesis that fewer private
guns means less crime. The government believes that any weapons
in the hands of men and women, however law-abiding, pose a
danger, and that disarming them lessens the chance that
criminals will get or use weapons.
The results -- the toughest firearm restrictions of any
democracy -- are credited by the world’s gun control advocates
with producing a low rate of violent crime. U.S. Supreme Court
Justice Lewis Powell reflected this conventional wisdom when, in
a 1988 speech to the American Bar Association, he attributed
England’s low rates of violent crime to the fact that
"private ownership of guns is strictly controlled."
In reality, the English approach has not re-duced violent
crime. Instead it has left law-abiding citizens at the mercy of
criminals who are confident that their victims have neither the
means nor the legal right to resist them. Imitating this model
would be a public safety disaster for the United States.
The illusion that the English government had protected its
citizens by disarming them seemed credible because few realized
the country had an astonishingly low level of armed crime even
before guns were restricted. A government study for the years
1890-92, for example, found only three handgun homicides, an
average of one a year, in a population of 30 million. In 1904
there were only four armed robberies in London, then the largest
city in the world. A hundred years and many gun laws later, the
BBC reported that England’s firearms restrictions "seem
to have had little impact in the criminal underworld." Guns
are virtually outlawed, and, as the old slogan predicted, only
outlaws have guns. Worse, they are increasingly ready to use
them.
Nearly five centuries of growing civility ended in 1954.
Violent crime has been climbing ever since. Last December,
London’s Evening Standard reported that armed crime,
with banned handguns the weapon of choice, was
"rocketing." In the two years following the 1997
handgun ban, the use of handguns in crime rose by 40 percent,
and the upward trend has continued. From April to November 2001,
the number of people robbed at gunpoint in London rose 53
percent.
Gun crime is just part of an increasingly lawless
environment. From 1991 to 1995, crimes against the person in
England’s inner cities increased 91 percent. And in the four
years from 1997 to 2001, the rate of violent crime more than
doubled. Your chances of being mugged in London are now six
times greater than in New York. England’s rates of assault,
robbery, and burglary are far higher than America’s, and 53
percent of English burglaries occur while occupants are at home,
compared with 13 percent in the U.S., where burglars admit to
fearing armed homeowners more than the police. In a United
Nations study of crime in 18 developed nations published in
July, England and Wales led the Western world’s crime league,
with nearly 55 crimes per 100 people.
This sea change in English crime followed a sea change in
government policies. Gun regulations have been part of a more
general disarmament based on the proposition that people don’t
need to protect themselves because society will protect them. It
also will protect their neighbors: Police advise those who
witness a crime to "walk on by" and let the
professionals handle it.
This is a reversal of centuries of common law that not only
permitted but expected individuals to defend themselves, their
families, and their neighbors when other help was not available.
It was a legal tradition passed on to Americans. Personal
security was ranked first among an individual’s rights by
William Blackstone, the great 18th-century exponent of the
common law. It was a right, he argued, that no government could
take away, since no government could protect the individual in
his moment of need. A century later Blackstone’s illustrious
successor, A.V. Dicey, cautioned, "discourage self-help and
loyal subjects become the slaves of ruffians."
But modern English governments have put public order ahead of
the individual’s right to personal safety. First the
government clamped down on private possession of guns; then it
forbade people to carry any article that might be used for
self-defense; finally, the vigor of that self-defense was to be
judged by what, in hindsight, seemed "reasonable in the
circumstances."
The 1920 Firearms Act was the first serious British
restriction on guns. Although crime was low in England in 1920,
the government feared massive labor disruption and a Bolshevik
revolution. In the circumstances, permitting the people to
remain armed must have seemed an unnecessary risk. And so the
new policy of disarming the public began. The Firearms Act
required a would-be gun owner to obtain a certificate from the
local chief of police, who was charged with determining whether
the applicant had a good reason for possessing a weapon and was
fit to do so. All very sensible. Parliament was assured that the
intention was to keep weapons out of the hands of criminals and
other dangerous persons. Yet from the start the law’s
enforcement was far more restrictive, and Home Office
instructions to police -- classified until 1989 -- periodically
narrowed the criteria.
At first police were instructed that it would be a good
reason to have a revolver if a person "lives in a solitary
house, where protection against thieves and burglars is
essential, or has been exposed to definite threats to life on
account of his performance of some public duty." By 1937
police were to discourage applications to possess firearms for
house or personal protection. In 1964 they were told "it
should hardly ever be necessary to anyone to possess a firearm
for the protection of his house or person" and that
"this principle should hold good even in the case of banks
and firms who desire to protect valuables or large quantities of
money."
In 1969 police were informed "it should never be
necessary for anyone to possess a firearm for the protection of
his house or person." These changes were made without
public knowledge or debate. Their enforcement has consumed
hundreds of thousands of police hours. Finally, in 1997 handguns
were banned. Proposed exemptions for handicapped shooters and
the British Olympic team were rejected.
Even more sweeping was the 1953 Prevention of Crime Act,
which made it illegal to carry in a public place any article
"made, adapted, or intended" for an offensive purpose
"without lawful authority or excuse." Carrying
something to protect yourself was branded antisocial. Any item
carried for possible defense automatically became an offensive
weapon. Police were given extensive power to stop and search
everyone. Individuals found with offensive items were guilty
until proven innocent.
During the debate over the Prevention of Crime Act in the
House of Commons, a member from Northern Ireland told his
colleagues of a woman employed by Parliament who had to cross a
lonely heath on her route home and had armed herself with a
knitting needle. A month earlier, she had driven off a youth who
tried to snatch her handbag by jabbing him "on a tender
part of his body." Was it to be an offense to carry a
knitting needle? The attorney general assured the M.P. that the
woman might be found to have a reasonable excuse but added that
the public should be discouraged "from going about with
offensive weapons in their pockets; it is the duty of society to
protect them."
Another M.P. pointed out that while "society ought to
undertake the defense of its members, nevertheless one has to
remember that there are many places where society cannot get, or
cannot get there in time. On those occasions a man has to defend
himself and those whom he is escorting. It is not very much
consolation that society will come forward a great deal later,
pick up the bits, and punish the violent offender."
In the House of Lords, Lord Saltoun argued: "The object
of a weapon was to assist weakness to cope with strength and it
is this ability that the bill was framed to destroy. I do not
think any government has the right, though they may very well
have the power, to deprive people for whom they are responsible
of the right to defend themselves." But he added:
"Unless there is not only a right but also a fundamental
willingness amongst the people to defend themselves, no police
force, however large, can do it."
That willingness was further undermined by a broad revision
of criminal law in 1967 that altered the legal standard for
self-defense. Now everything turns on what seems to be
"reasonable" force against an assailant, considered
after the fact. As Glanville Williams notes in his Textbook
of Criminal Law, that requirement is "now stated in
such mitigated terms as to cast doubt on whether it
[self-defense] still forms part of the law."
The original common law standard was similar to what still
prevails in the U.S. Americans are free to carry articles for
their protection, and in 33 states law-abiding citizens may
carry concealed guns. Americans may defend themselves with
deadly force if they believe that an attacker is about to kill
or seriously injure them, or to prevent a violent crime. Our
courts are mindful that, as Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes
observed, "detached reflection cannot be demanded in the
presence of an upraised knife."
But English courts have interpreted the 1953 act strictly and
zealously. Among articles found illegally carried with offensive
intentions are a sandbag, a pickaxe handle, a stone, and a drum
of pepper. "Any article is capable of being an offensive
weapon," concede the authors of Smith and Hogan Criminal
Law, a popular legal text, although they add that if the
article is unlikely to cause an injury the onus of proving
intent to do so would be "very heavy."
The 1967 act has not been helpful to those obliged to defend
themselves either. Granville Williams points out: "For some
reason that is not clear, the courts occasionally seem to regard
the scandal of the killing of a robber as of greater moment than
the safety of the robber’s victim in respect of his person and
property."
A sampling of cases illustrates the impact of these measures:
• In 1973 a young man running on a road at night was
stopped by the police and found to be carrying a length of
steel, a cycle chain, and a metal clock weight. He explained
that a gang of youths had been after him. At his hearing it was
found he had been threatened and had previously notified the
police. The justices agreed he had a valid reason to carry the
weapons. Indeed, 16 days later he was attacked and beaten so
badly he was hospitalized. But the prosecutor appealed the
ruling, and the appellate judges insisted that carrying a weapon
must be related to an imminent and immediate threat. They sent
the case back to the lower court with directions to convict.
• In 1987 two men assaulted Eric Butler, a 56-year-old
British Petroleum executive, in a London subway car, trying to
strangle him and smashing his head against the door. No one came
to his aid. He later testified, "My air supply was being
cut off, my eyes became blurred, and I feared for my life."
In desperation he unsheathed an ornamental sword blade in his
walking stick and slashed at one of his attackers, stabbing the
man in the stomach. The assailants were charged with wounding.
Butler was tried and convicted of carrying an offensive weapon.
• In 1994 an English homeowner, armed with a toy gun,
managed to detain two burglars who had broken into his house
while he called the police. When the officers arrived, they
arrested the homeowner for using an imitation gun to threaten or
intimidate. In a similar incident the following year, when an
elderly woman fired a toy cap pistol to drive off a group of
youths who were threatening her, she was arrested for putting
someone in fear. Now the police are pressing Parliament to make
imitation guns illegal.
• In 1999 Tony Martin, a 55-year-old Norfolk farmer living
alone in a shabby farmhouse, awakened to the sound of breaking
glass as two burglars, both with long criminal records, burst
into his home. He had been robbed six times before, and his
village, like 70 percent of rural English communities, had no
police presence. He sneaked downstairs with a shotgun and shot
at the intruders. Martin received life in prison for killing one
burglar, 10 years for wounding the second, and a year for having
an unregistered shotgun. The wounded burglar, having served 18
months of a three-year sentence, is now free and has been
granted £5,000 of legal assistance to sue Martin.
The failure of English policy to produce a safer society is
clear, but what of British jibes about "America’s
vigilante values" and our much higher murder rate?
Historically, America has had a high homicide rate and
England a low one. In a comparison of New York and London over a
200-year period, during most of which both populations had
unrestricted access to firearms, historian Eric Monkkonen found
New York’s homicide rate consistently about five times London’s.
Monkkonen pointed out that even without guns, "the United
States would still be out of step, just as it has been for two
hundred years."
Legal historian Richard Maxwell Brown has argued that
Americans have more homicides because English law insists an
individual should retreat when attacked, whereas Americans
believe they have the right to stand their ground and kill in
self-defense. Americans do have more latitude to protect
themselves, in keeping with traditional common law standards,
but that would have had less significance before England’s
more restrictive policy was established in 1967.
The murder rates of the U.S. and U.K. are also affected by
differences in the way each counts homicides. The FBI asks
police to list every homicide as murder, even if the case isn’t
subsequently prosecuted or proceeds on a lesser charge, making
the U.S. numbers as high as possible. By contrast, the English
police "massage down" the homicide statistics,
tracking each case through the courts and removing it if it is
reduced to a lesser charge or determined to be an accident or
self-defense, making the English numbers as low as possible.
The London-based Office of Health Economics, after a careful
international study, found that while "one reason often
given for the high numbers of murders and manslaughters in the
United States is the easy availability of firearms...the strong
correlation with racial and socio-economic variables suggests
that the underlying determinants of the homicide rate are
related to particular cultural factors."
Cultural differences and more-permissive legal standards
notwithstanding, the English rate of violent crime has been
soaring since 1991. Over the same period, America’s has been
falling dramatically. In 1999 The Boston Globe reported that the
American murder rate, which had fluctuated by about 20 percent
between 1974 and 1991, was "in startling free-fall."
We have had nine consecutive years of sharply declining violent
crime. As a result the English and American murder rates are
converging. In 1981 the American rate was 8.7 times the English
rate, in 1995 it was 5.7 times the English rate, and the latest
study puts it at 3.5 times.
Preliminary figures for the U.S. this year show an increase,
although of less than 1 percent, in the overall number of
violent crimes, with homicide increases in certain cities, which
criminologists attribute to gang violence, the poor economy, and
the release from prison of many offenders. Yet Americans still
enjoy a substantially lower rate of violent crime than England,
without the "restraint on personal liberty" English
governments have seen as necessary. Rather than permit
individuals more scope to defend themselves, Prime Minister Tony
Blair’s government plans to combat crime by extending those
"restraints on personal liberty": removing the
prohibition against double jeopardy so people can be tried twice
for the same crime, making hearsay evidence admissible in court,
and letting jurors know of a suspect’s previous crimes.
This is a cautionary tale. America’s founders, like their
English forebears, regarded personal security as first of the
three primary rights of mankind. That was the main reason for
including a right for individuals to be armed in the U.S.
Constitution. Not everyone needs to avail himself or herself of
that right. It is a dangerous right. But leaving personal
protection to the police is also dangerous.
The English government has effectively abolished the right of
Englishmen, confirmed in their 1689 Bill of Rights, to
"have arms for their defence," insisting upon a
monopoly of force it can succeed in imposing only on law-abiding
citizens. It has come perilously close to depriving its people
of the ability to protect themselves at all, and the result is a
more, not less, dangerous society. Despite the English tendency
to decry America’s "vigilante values," English
policy makers would do well to consider a return to these
crucial common law values, which stood them so well in the past.
Joyce Lee Malcolm, a professor of
history at Bentley College and a senior adviser to the MIT
Security Studies Program, is the author of Guns
and Violence: The English Experience, published
in May by Harvard University Press.