Compassion as a Counterbalance to Violence

Editor’s Note: This article has been updated to include additional data based on the federal definition of mass shooting (≥3 killed with a firearm in one incident). The original text remains unchanged; a clarifying paragraph has been added for accuracy and context.

⸻

My heart is breaking at the news of yet another mass shooting. This time, the tragedy struck a Catholic church that the shooter himself had attended, and where his mother had once worked. Two children were killed and seventeen others wounded. It is almost unbearable to process such loss.

Whenever these events occur, the public conversation often turns quickly to mental illness as the explanation. While it is true that many perpetrators of mass violence are deeply disturbed, we must be careful not to use mental illness as a blanket scapegoat. One-third of Americans—over 120 million people—are on mental health prescription drugs, yet the vast majority live peaceful lives and would never dream of committing such atrocities.

And here’s an important reality check: in the last forty years, there have been fewer than thirty mass shootings targeting schools, places of worship, and businesses. Fewer than fifty shooters caused more than six hundred deaths and injuries. The scale of devastation is enormous, but the number of perpetrators is strikingly small. Which tells us something: it does not take an epidemic of killers to shake a society—it only takes a handful of deeply broken individuals.

⸻

By the federal definition—a mass shooting being an incident in which three or more people are killed with a firearm in one event—over the past forty years there have been as many as 151 such attacks on schools, businesses, and houses of worship, carried out by 156 shooters. Together, these incidents claimed between 453 and 1,000 lives. Put another way, in a country of over 330 million people, the annualized per-person risk of dying in one of these events is about 1 in 76 million.

⸻

“151 attacks. 156 shooters. Up to 1,000 lives lost.
Rare—yet devastating.”

⸻

Instead, we need to look closer at the places where pain and alienation grow. Our own religious communities have already witnessed troubling cases: arsonists, drunk drivers, addicts, even attempted murder. And beyond the visible crises, we cannot ignore the hidden damage of rape, child molestation, and domestic violence. We are not immune.

What can we do? Sometimes the answer is much simpler than we think. A smile. A handshake. A genuine interest in another person—not laced with judgment about their observance or lack thereof. Small gestures of compassion can make a difference.

From a situational awareness perspective, one should be looking for outsized, disproportionate feelings. Who around you seems deeply disgruntled, trapped, lost, or angry? Who is the loner, the rebellious teen, or the colleague who feels taken advantage of? These emotions may be flashing indicators that friendship, guidance, or professional help could be needed. At work, that might mean reporting a colleague to HR—not as punishment, but as a way of flagging that emotional support is necessary. Or it could mean something even more direct: simply making a friend.

⸻

“We must care enough to reach the lost—and be ready to stop the ones we cannot reach.”

⸻

But compassion alone is not enough. We still need to prepare for the possibility of an active shooter. Ed Monk, a retired Army officer and trainer who has studied these attacks, points out that the key factor in the number of victims is response time. If resistance begins within thirty seconds, the victim count is likely to stay in the single digits. Without it, casualties rise quickly. And the hard truth is this: there will almost always be at least one victim. That means people on location—teachers, staff, congregants, co-workers, even children—must be willing to fight back in whatever way they can. The data is clear: any resistance, even from the smallest and weakest, significantly lowers the body count.

Compassion is not naïve. I am not suggesting that kindness could have stopped Hitler, or even the young man who opened fire in that church. Some people choose evil despite every effort to reach them. But what I do know with certainty is that shaming, belittling, bullying, discarding, abusing, or maligning our youth fuels despair and rage. These wounds can fester into dangerous outcomes.

As someone who has survived abuse, I know firsthand the desire for revenge that can take root in a young heart. Teens and young adults are still governed primarily by emotions; their brains are not fully matured. When we see destructive behavior, like the burning of a yeshiva, (religious school) I would wager that beneath it lies a real grudge, grounded in experiences of rejection or pain.

A significant proportion of crime is revenge-driven. If we can interrupt that cycle with compassion—by showing young people that they are seen, valued, and cared for—we stand a better chance of preventing violence before it begins.

⸻

“Compassion is the counterbalance to evil; preparation is the shield against it.”

⸻

Compassion will never erase evil from the world. But it is the most powerful counterbalance we have. And when compassion is combined with preparedness, we give ourselves the best chance to both prevent and stop the next tragedy.