Yikes, I forget how nutty John Derbyshire is. "Just jump [the shooter]. Handguns aren't very accurate, even at close range. I shoot mine all the time at the range, and I still can't hit squat. I doubt this guy was any better than I am." I rather wonder how Derbyshire squares that with the fact that the guy managed to murder 30-some people with said handguns. The Derb also says, "I hope, however, that if I thought I was going to die anyway, I'd at least take a run at the guy."
To give this the patented Ezra Klein health care spin, very few people know when they're going to die. Whether you're facing down a gun barrel or looking at cancer, the human mind excels at hope. That's part of the reason the stats about how much we spend in the last six months of life are less illuminating than they're often touted as being. It's very easy to mark off the last six months of life when looking at a death certificate -- but not so simple when the person is still alive. If we knew when we were going to die, we'd probably act differently in our final moments, no matter whether they were in a shooting or a hospital ward. But when there's a chance we will die, most seek to maximize the chance they will live. We don't rush gunmen and we don't refuse treatment. It's human nature, and it deserves empathy, not scorn and derision from those who've never glimpsed the abyss lying beyond their own end.
