Actions have consequences. As the nation learns more about what happened in Uvalde, we need to see some changes based on actual events. The police balked at confronting the shooter. They went against their training. They feared for their own lives more than they feared for the children’s lives. Now, I don’t want to divert responsibility for this horror from the punk who perpetrated it. He deserves all the execration we can heap upon him. But what is to be done with the people we trusted to stop this guy? And I’m not saying I would have done any better. I can feel their hesitation, I can get inside their heads and see myself trying to figure it out. But I don’t have their training. And I didn’t put on a uniform that said, “I will risk my life for yours.” They have that training, and they put on that uniform. There was a test, and they failed it. What do we do with them? We can’t just go back to business as normal. We can’t just say, “Oops.” And while there may be various levels of responsibility among the police who responded, generally I say they should be let go. Not with a mob howling for their blood. Not with civil suits and all that. Just: Sorry, guys, you failed the test. We need to find people willing to do what we give you guys guns and uniforms and training to do. Likewise, the teacher who propped open the door the killer used to gain entry. Completely against policy. And I’m sure that nobody feels worse about it that the teacher oneself. I’d hate to have that on my conscience. But what do we do? This teacher’s action is comparable – directly comparable – to the soldier or sailor who sneaks away to make a quick cell phone home and gives away the entire unit’s position, only to draw down artillery or missile fire and causing not only the deaths of his buddies, but perhaps the loss of the battle. What do we do with that guy, should he survive? At the very least, wouldn’t you demote him? There needs to be some sort of consequences for this. Again, not calling for rage or litigation, but . . . Actions have consequences. This is not to displace the rage we feel at the shooter. All our indignation should be squarely placed there. But that doesn’t give a pass to everybody else. “Mistakes were made” is not a response that improves anything. Actions have consequences, and call for actions as a consequence. Meanwhile, turning to the perp, how does a kid barely eighteen years old afford the mass of equipment --- expensive guns, lots of ammo, a tactical vest, and a new truck – in order to go on a rampage? Inquiring minds want to know that, too. Did he do it all on brand-spanking-new credit? Or did he have a source of income unknown to most eighteen-year-olds? He was living with his grandmother. His mother is apparently an addict. What man, if any, was in his life? It is being said that he forecast his intention, but only to private individuals. Were any of his family giving off signals that were ignored? What do we do with punk kids like this – not AFTER they do something infamous, but BEFORE? Before they turn into punks. I’m not one of those who say, “If only X turned out differently, this wouldn’t have happened.” That’s not how events occur. Causality is not a matter of some butterfly flapping its wings and causing hurricanes somewhere else. It’s not a straight line on a flow chart. What happens in all sorts of tragedies is that small errors accumulate like ions in a pre-storm atmosphere. Then, when lightning strikes, it leaps along the path of some of those ions, giving the illusion of causality. You can’t do everything right, and you can’t put full blame on anybody except the perp. But you have to look at all the accumulating errors in the situation and sort out what could be done better. And when you have egregious failures, you have adjust for that, too.