I’ve got a phone number for them to call – 800 CRY BABY
I’ve spent much of the past six months interviewing people across the United States in the leadup to the [New York State Rifle & Pistol Association v. Bruen] case—part of research for a book I’m writing about the cultural and racial effects of U.S. gun laws. Although I uncovered a wide range of opinions, these interviews have given me a greater appreciation for the ways that high-level political games become grounded in the ostensibly “organic” political instincts of everyday Americans.
Among conservative white gun owners in the South and Midwest, I found there is often reflexive support for the idea that northern and urban gun-control laws should be overturned. This was true even for many interview subjects who had never been to the cities in question—and particularly so when I explained that the case centers around gun laws in New York. “New York—well that says it all right there,” a Tennessee Uber driver in his fifties told me. “Hell yes I would want to carry my guns in New York [should I ever go there],” said a Michigan real estate agent in her forties. For these and other conservative interviewees, gun laws in cities like New York represented symbolic northern affront to their notion of uninfringed liberties (“It’s my constitutional right to carry anywhere I want”)—and in places where they imagine they would need to defend themselves against threats from racial others (“I might get carjacked!”).
But I also found a surprising current of pro-gun sentiment among a not insignificant minority of people who identified as liberal and who lived in the very cities in question—especially among people under forty. “Criminals have guns, so why shouldn’t we?” a thirty-seven-year-old white woman art dealer in Brooklyn told me. “Why should police have all the guns?” asked a twenty-six-year-old Black male programmer from Manhattan. A thirty-three-year-old white woman realtor from Boston explained that “hopefully this will make it easier for my friends and me to take shooting classes.”
Gun sales then rose by over 300 percent in the aftermath of the May 2020 killing of George Floyd and the protests that followed—both among protesters concerned about police violence and among white people with deep fears of racial protest. Not missing a beat, the NRA ramped up efforts to sell more guns to communities of color. When they stood on their St. Louis lawn waving guns at passing protesters, Mark and Patricia McCloskey became the clown-car villains of the left—but heroes of the castle-doctrine right. All the while, gun manufacturers retained unprecedented immunity from lawsuits, and (thanks to the Trump administration) expressly pro-gun justices [presided] over ever-more courthouses across the country—including the Supreme Court.
Evidence suggests that even people from groups that have historically been the strongest supporters of gun control began packing heat as a result of these cultural shifts. Ranks of liberal and Democrat gun owners grew exponentially in 2020 and 2021. Washington Post columnist Karen Attiah describes the “allure” of guns and gun groups for Black women “feeling a need to protect ourselves in an anti-Black and misogynistic society.” Armed Black self-defense—the very thought of which was once a rationale for white anxiety, Black oppression, and stricter gun control—has witnessed a revival as a viable movement of people who are “Black and up in arms.”
The confluence of these factors has led even many supporters of gun regulation to question its utility or, worse, to despair that gun control is a “lost cause.” “What are we even doing? America feels like it’s moved on from this issue,” a GVP organizer and activist in Nashville told me, even as shootings and deaths spiked in the city.
— Jonathan M. Metzl in The Supreme Court Is Poised to Put Politics Ahead of Gun-Violence Prevention