The Canadian Firearms Registry is one of those issues on which it is difficult to engage in rational debate.
Like abortion, firearm policy is what Lawrence Tribe called a “clash of absolutes.” Foundational values – of personal liberty and personal safety – are diametrically opposed. The resulting conversation becomes increasingly distorted.
Proponents of the registry are prone to ad hominem attacks disparaging opponents as witless rubes or overstating the impact of the registry. Opponents of the registry fall prey to over-reaction, citing their hunting rifle as the fountainhead of democracy or dismissing the registry as a tool for police.
The current discussion about the future of the registry is less about policy or outcomes than about its status as a cultural touchstone. Part of the blame for this lays with the birth of the registry in the run-up to the 1993 federal election.
The Mulroney government was made up of a coalition of rural Westerners and urban Ontarians and Quebeckers. Attempting to balance these interests, they responded to the Ecole Polytechnique massacre with a ban on paramilitary style weapons, a 28 day cooling off period and the requirement to pass a firearms safety course. However, some of the survivors and parents of the victims campaigned for further moves, which were adopted by the Liberals in their campaign.
The policy was relatively low-profile in the campaign, but after the election became a rallying point among the Reform Party opposition. Free from any Eastern influence, the proposal of a gun registry hit a nerve among the rural base of Reform, while support for a registry was similarly passionate to the urban-skewed supporters of the Liberal Party.
What had previously been a cross-cleaving issue that the PC Party chose to play down became a front-line issue in the new partisan dynamic. As a result, both parties chose to highlight the issue in media, advertising and fundraising appeals. Making common cause with gun registry opponents was a no-brainer for the Reform Party, who found a new driver for memberships and fundraising.
Similarly, appeals in favour of the gun registry were a turnout mobilizer in urban centres among Liberally-inclined voters. The increasing polarization of the issue invited a knee-jerk response from both sides, exacerbated by civil disobedience against participating in the registry and cost overruns in the IT development.
More than two decades after the tragedy that sparked its creation, the opponent side of the registry issue may have landed a potential coalition in the Commons large enough to defeat the registry.
Should the registry be disbanded?
Philosophically, I think if you have to register your car, it is fair to register your gun. They both have the potential to kill people when mishandled.
More practically, the database is built and used. Certainly, if I were investigating an domestic violence call or other violent disturbance as a police officer, it would be helpful know if I should expect to find a firearm in the home.
There were valid arguments about where to get the best bang for the buck in crime prevention when the database was being built. Frankly, that money would have been better spent on mental-health treatment in prisons, a perennially underfunded program that can directly impact recidivism. However, those same arguments would seem to call for continuing the registry once built, particularly given the relatively low on-going cost for operations.
But I don’t expect to persuade opponents of the gun registry with those arguments. The lines are too deeply drawn and the issue reduced to shorthand.
However, I do think there is a very important question to be answered around what next? If the registry is disbanded, or even if it isn’t, what should be done to impact gun crime?
I would argue the logical move forward, under either a Conservative or Liberal government, is a Gun Offender Registry.
