In A World Full Of Sheep, Be A Sheepdog
Most of us decide to be sheep - life’s more comfortable that way and most of us aren’t able nor willing to shoulder the responsibility of being sheepdogs.
When out of words, it’s not a bad idea to allow others do the talking for you.
On Monday, March 27, a homicidal he/she/they-who-knows-what shot up The Covenant School in Nashville, Tennessee, killing six - three children included - before being gunned down by responding police officers. Like nearly all publicized mass shootings, particularly those that occur in schools, it’s sparked yet another moral panic concerning guns. The fact the shooter was transgender has also drawn a lot of attention, particularly on the Right, though the Left has used this fact to hedge on the issue.
It’s a loaded topic and I’d rather not get into the politics of it. It’s terrible enough that it happened and to think six lives were snuffed out in such brutal fashion. It’s a story that gets old to the point I’m not sure there’s much more to say about it. I instead want to focus your attention instead on the one tiny sliver of silver lining in this story: the first responders. If the killer angers me and the deaths of the victims saddens me, the actions of the first responders humble me.
Contrasted with the shameful travesty that was the response to the Uvalde school shooting last year, where police waited an hour-and-a-quarter before attempting to the stop the shooter, we can all hang our hats on the fact the officers of Nashville Police Department did exactly what they were supposed to do. Though countless officers responded, the two credited with leading the charge against the shooter were Rex Engelbert and Michael Collazo:
Here’s harrowing body-cam footage of the officers making entry and stopping the shooter. Just mad bravery and speed (WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT):
It all brings to mind something I read years ago. It’s an essay authored by Dave Grossman, a retired Army lieutenant colonel who’s made a name for himself as an expert on psychology of killing, what he referred to as “killology,” for a time. As you might guess, Grossman is something of a controversial figure, but I think his essay, titled “Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs” rings true in light of recent events. It’s hard to find an original copy of the essay, but it has been posted elsewhere many times, including here. I won’t share all of it with you, but will share the parts I think are most relevant and what I think we all must understand to live in this world.
First, Grossman defines the sheep:
“Most of the people in our society are sheep. They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident.” This is true. Remember, the murder rate is six per 100,000 per year, and the aggravated assault rate is four per 1,000 per year. What this means is that the vast majority of Americans are not inclined to hurt one another. Some estimates say that two million Americans are victims of violent crimes every year, a tragic, staggering number, perhaps an all-time record rate of violent crime. But there are almost 300 million Americans, which means that the odds of being a victim of violent crime is considerably less than one in a hundred on any given year. Furthermore, since many violent crimes are committed by repeat offenders, the actual number of violent citizens is considerably less than two million.
Thus there is a paradox, and we must grasp both ends of the situation:
We may well be in the most violent times in history, but violence is still remarkably rare. This is because most citizens are kind, decent people who are not capable of hurting each other, except by accident or under extreme provocation. They are sheep.
Grossman explains there’s nothing wrong with being sheep. That’s who most of us are. I, your erstwhile writer, am more sheep than anything else. I benefit from living in a civilization and would prefer to keep myself away from the violent reality of a world unencumbered by order. Most everyone you know, your family and friends, are all sheep.
The problem is that we sheep often forget why civilization exists in the first place: for protection. In doing so, we take it all for granted to the point of lying to ourselves about what the world is really like without the willingness to use violence to defend what we know and love. Oddly enough, sheep are often more disturbed by other sheep than they are about those who truly pose a threat to their existence. In so many ways, sheep are society’s worst enemies:
Let me expand on this old soldier’s excellent model of the sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. We know that the sheep live in denial, that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe that there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kids’ schools.
But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting an armed police officer in their kid’s school. Our children are thousands of times more likely to be killed or seriously injured by school violence than fire, but the sheep’s only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their child is just too hard, and so they chose the path of denial.
But wolves do exist. There’s no overthinking it, there’s no identifying “root causes.” It’s enough to know they exist and always have throughout history. It’s never going to change:
“Then there are the wolves,” the old war veteran said, “and the wolves feed on the sheep without mercy.” Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy? You better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep.
There is no safety in denial.
Thank God for sheepdogs, then:
“Then there are sheepdogs,” he went on, “and I’m a sheepdog. I live to protect the flock and confront the wolf.” If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen, a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath, a wolf. But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? What do you have then? A sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the hero’s path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed.
Unfortunately, if we as a society are in denial that bad people exist, we don’t like the sight of sheepdogs because they are that constant reminder of the reality we contort ourselves into denying. Sometimes, we even express vitriol at the sheepdogs because they ruin our good time and disturb our sense of luxury, tranquility, and even just righteousness. That is, until the stuff hits the fan and we realize we aren’t capable of dealing with danger. That’s when we suddenly discover that we do like our sheepdogs:
Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog.
The students, the victims, at Columbine High School were big, tough high school students, and under ordinary circumstances they would not have had the time of day for a police officer. They were not bad kids; they just had nothing to say to a cop. When the school was under attack, however, and SWAT teams were clearing the rooms and hallways, the officers had to physically peel those clinging, sobbing kids off of them. This is how the little lambs feel about their sheepdog when the wolf is at the door.
Look at what happened after September 11, 2001 when the wolf pounded hard on the door. Remember how America, more than ever before, felt differently about their law enforcement officers and military personnel? Remember how many times you heard the word hero?
The reference to Columbine rings true here in light of Nashville. Like most schools, I’m sure The Covenant School preferred there be no guns or armed men in their hallways, until an armed person showed up and began shooting everyone in sight. Then it became necessary for those able and willing to engage in violence and bearing arms to roam their hallways to hunt down and kill the wolf. All of a sudden, groups like Black Lives Matter and slogans like “Defund the Police” are drowned out by the simple fact bad people really do exist and that our civilization is defended by a thin line of mostly men willing to confront what we willfully deny. What’s always been, always will be.
However, the sheepdog must never delude himself into thinking he’s “better” than those he protects. He’s just different:
Understand that there is nothing morally superior about being a sheepdog; it is just what you choose to be. Also understand that a sheepdog is a funny critter: He is always sniffing around out on the perimeter, checking the breeze, barking at things that go bump in the night, and yearning for a righteous battle. That is, the young sheepdogs yearn for a righteous battle. The old sheepdogs are a little older and wiser, but they move to the sound of the guns when needed right along with the young ones.
Here is how the sheep and the sheepdog think differently. The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day.
After the attacks on September 11, 2001, most of the sheep, that is, most citizens in America said, “Thank God I wasn’t on one of those planes.” The sheepdogs, the warriors, said, “Dear God, I wish I could have been on one of those planes. Maybe I could have made a difference.”
When you are truly transformed into a warrior and have truly invested yourself into warriorhood, you want to be there. You want to be able to make a difference.
It merits a discussion all its own, but warriors deeming themselves morally superior is dangerous for society. We have warriors to protect what we value most, not as an end to themselves. Warriors needn’t and shouldn’t debase themselves before those they’re charged with protecting, but they should instead remember: without the sheep, there’s no reason for the sheepdog to exist.
I’ve spent time on this blog and on social media lamenting the fact we’re so long removed from the days of Todd Beamer, the passenger on United Flight 93 who led a revolt against hijackers on 9/11, undoubtedly forcing them to divert from their intended target by crashing into the ground and sacrificing their lives in the process. The Uvalde disaster made many of us, myself included, believe we’d never see the sort of bravery we saw on 9/11 again:
Nor did I think we’d ever see the kind of courage under fire displayed on February 28, 1997, when police officers of the Los Angeles Police Department fought two heavily-armed, heavily-armored bank robbers equipped with fully-automatic assault rifles and thousands of rounds of ammunition. The cops were outgunned and totally unprepared for the scenario. But they didn’t let shock and the lack of protection and incident command stop them from doing their duty - saving lives. In the end, there were many casualties, but no fatalities, aside from the two robbers. The sheep love to obsess over equipment and training - for good reason - but none of it substitutes for sheer bravery. Not once did those officers find an excuse not to act. If anything, they found an excuse to act. They just wouldn’t let others die, not while they were in a position to do something about it.
Grossman spoke of Todd Beamer:
Seven months after the attack on September 11, 2001, Todd Beamer was honored in his hometown of Cranbury, New Jersey. Todd, as you recall, was the man on Flight 93 over Pennsylvania who called on his cell phone to alert an operator from United Airlines about the hijacking. When he learned of the other three passenger planes that had been used as weapons, Todd dropped his phone and uttered the words, “Let’s roll,” which authorities believe was a signal to the other passengers to confront the terrorist hijackers. In one hour, a transformation occurred among the passengers – athletes, business people and parents. — from sheep to sheepdogs and together they fought the wolves, ultimately saving an unknown number of lives on the ground.
Beamer started the day like the rest of us - sheep. He ended his day and, sadly, his life, as a sheepdog. But he saved lives in the process. Neither he nor the other passengers of United 93 should’ve died the way they did, but their sacrifices weren’t in vain. Grossman emphasizes that, as humans, we have the choice of whether we want to be sheep, sheepdogs, or even wolves. Most of us decide to be sheep - life’s more comfortable that way and most of us aren’t able nor willing to shoulder the responsibility of being sheepdogs. In many ways, it’s easier being a wolf, because a wolf has no responsibility to anyone or anything except itself.
But as with all things, it’s only cheap because someone else is footing the bill. There’s always a price for letting someone else do the dirty work:
If you want to be a sheep, then you can be a sheep and that is okay, but you must understand the price you pay. When the wolf comes, you and your loved ones are going to die if there is not a sheepdog there to protect you. If you want to be a wolf, you can be one, but the sheepdogs are going to hunt you down and you will never have rest, safety, trust or love. But if you want to be a sheepdog and walk the warrior’s path, then you must make a conscious and moral decision every day to dedicate, equip and prepare yourself to thrive in that toxic, corrosive moment when the wolf comes knocking at the door.
Perhaps because it’s so frightening to contemplate, many of our fellow Americans are offended by the mere thought that human beings do terrible things to each other. There are certainly exceptions - if you’re a White male, Christian with right-wing political views, for example, you’re guilty until proven innocent - but otherwise, nobody wants to suspect others of harboring ill will. Until confronted by blunt reality, of course.
Yet they don’t harbor this attitude towards any other risk to their lives. We saw this in 2020 during the great delusion that was the COVID pandemic. There was a lot of uncertainty during that time and I’d be lying to you if I said I knew it’d all turn out alright in the end. But it seemed like people discovered, for the first time in their lives, there are threats out there we need to be cognizant of and triggered an overreaction while, again, thinking things like crime are, at best, things we should just need to live with or, at worst, crime isn’t a thing. Worse, too many sheep are dishonest with themselves - they think they’re stronger than they really are just because they got through lockdown or dutifully wore those masks we were all told to wear, when all they proved was they were good at being herded.
Like sheep.
When it comes to dealing with the fact we live in a world full of dangerous people, though, the sheep prove how fragile they are:
Some individuals would be horrified if they knew this police officer was carrying a weapon in church. They might call him paranoid and would probably scorn him. Yet these same individuals would be enraged and would call for “heads to roll” if they found out that the airbags in their cars were defective, or that the fire extinguisher and fire sprinklers in their kids’ school did not work. They can accept the fact that fires and traffic accidents can happen and that there must be safeguards against them.
Their only response to the wolf, though, is denial, and all too often their response to the sheepdog is scorn and disdain. But the sheepdog quietly asks himself, “Do you have an idea how hard it would be to live with yourself if your loved ones attacked and killed, and you had to stand there helplessly because you were unprepared for that day?”
It is denial that turns people into sheep. Sheep are psychologically destroyed by combat because their only defense is denial, which is counterproductive and destructive, resulting in fear, helplessness and horror when the wolf shows up.
Denial kills you twice. It kills you once, at your moment of truth when you are not physically prepared: you didn’t bring your gun, you didn’t train. Your only defense was wishful thinking. Hope is not a strategy.
Denial kills you a second time because even if you do physically survive, you are psychologically shattered by your fear helplessness and horror at your moment of truth.
Not all of us become victims of crime. But we all do bear witness to that moment of truth, if only as a spectator. It’s in those moments sheep choose whether to wake up to reality or continue indulging in denial. Far too many choose the latter because, again, the truth is too much to bear. But the denial itself proves they’re intrinsically aware of how things really are:
Denial is a save-now-pay-later scheme, a contract written entirely in small print, for in the long run, the denying person knows the truth on some level.
Here’s the thing - you don’t have to be exclusively sheep or sheepdog. We don’t need to become full-time professionals in the business of violence in order to deal with daily realities. But you do need to accept that though you may spend most of your life as sheep, there are times you may need to become the sheepdog, if only in the moment. And if you have a family to care for, guess what? You don’t have a choice. Why would you rely on anyone else to protect your family, anyway?
This business of being a sheep or a sheep dog is not a yes-no dichotomy. It is not an all-or-nothing, either-or choice. It is a matter of degrees, a continuum. On one end is an abject, head-in-the-sand-sheep and on the other end is the ultimate warrior. Few people exist completely on one end or the other. Most of us live somewhere in between.
The problem is, it’s difficult for most people to shift gears like that. We each have a bias towards action or a bias towards letting someone else take care of it. And it’s not always obvious when it’s time to rock-and-roll or when it’s time to stand aside.
Yet somebody needs to think about these things, whether you do or don’t. And when the stuff does hit the fan, the first question out of everyone’s mouth is inevitably: Where are the sheepdogs?
Grossman’s essay, which I hope you read in it’s entirety, is what came to mind watching those police officers navigate the hallways of that school, confront the shooter, and stop it. It won’t change the fact the entire incident was a tragedy, but it could’ve been much worse.
We’re in a time when the herd is growing and so are the number of wolves. Yet the number of sheepdogs among us are dwindling. It’s past time for all of us to decide what we’re going to be - willing victims waiting for someone to tell us what to do or to be people of action who say, “Not on my watch.” Our civilization depends on it.
Max Remington writes about armed conflict and prepping. Follow him on Twitter at @AgentMax90.
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