categorical imperatives, heroism, and the human condition

Friday's Citibank shooting reminds me of Immanuel Kant. It probably shouldn't--my understanding of German philosophers is much less nuanced than it ought to be, by now. But I'm reminded of Kant's insistence that if a gunman is looking for your friend, you're obligated to tell him the truth (I much prefer Dietrich Bonhoeffer's take--that in such situations you are charged with the responsibility to tell a hearty lie). The situation is surely a bad analogy: the lawyer (Michael McKenna) the perpetrator (Joe Jackson) was looking for was not the security guard's friend, and Jackson knew the floor that housed his target. And yet, when pressed (with a snubbed-nose revolver), the security guard escorted the perpetrator to his target on the 38th floor. A long elevator ride, I am certain. That the security guard fled the scene and boarded a train to Indiana is unsurprising, in retrospect. I'm sure that man feels the guilt of the world on his shoulders, understands with painful clarity his dereliction of duty, and has replayed ad nauseum alternate responses on his part that would, in all likelihood, have led to a different ending. That the police and SWAT teams did everything right in their quick response doesn't change the fact that three innocent people died when the perpetrator should never had made it to the legal office.

JD scoffed when I suggested that the security guards at such places were little better trained or incentivized than mall security workers--poorly paid individuals, perhaps moonlighting, who serve mostly as a show of presence rather than any commitment to a code to serve and protect. I think the psychological and sociological aspects behind the situation are telling. Have you ever read about the Stanford prisoner's experiment where psychology students were randomly assigned to be either prisoners or prison guards? The experiment quickly got out of hand when the prison guards began to flaunt their arbitrary authority and the prisoners internalized their assigned lack of authority. I think for-hire security guards are caught somewhere between these extremes. The security guard worked for AlliedBarton, a company that offers its clients a choice of uniforms, ranging from business casual to military. I'd almost be willing to wager that if this particular security guard had been wearing a military outfit and/or had a firearm to support the authority that was supposedly invested in him, that things would have gone differently. As it was, the unarmed guard in his generic "security" uniform had likely internalized his role to be one of a concierge, greeting people on an everyday basis and giving them directions to their appointments. He had neither the brotherly life-or-death ethos that an urban police force fosters on a daily basis (think about the honor-laden ceremonies afforded to cops slain in the line of duty) nor the means to back up any supposed authority. He had not the thymos necessary to overcome the innate and inestimable fear of death.

I'm sure one could parse this economically, as well: why should an (in all likelihood, poorly remunerated and otherwise marginalized) individual risk his life so concretely for the sake of those better off--one may well suspect a valid case of ressentiment.

It's certainly not my aim to kick someone while they're down; it's easy to blame but more difficult to have compassion for people who must make critical decisions in situations that end badly. Perhaps the security guard believed that he was somehow buying time by cooperating with Jackson. Maybe he was thinking of his own kids, or of his spiritual unreadiness "to go." No doubt he was scared.

Guns make me deeply uncomfortable, and I certainly don't want to live in a police state. Weapons or no, though, I think Bonhoeffer is instructive when he writes about the responsibility we have to take concrete action on our neighbor's behalf to resist evil actions. It'll take quick thinking and decisive action on behalf of another, rather than personal cost-benefit analysis. No outcomes are guaranteed. It's scary as hell. But it'll get easier if more of us do it.