Sunday, August 15, 2021

With a gun to your head: The Larry Goldstein Incident

 

By Massad Ayoob at the American Handgunner.

The American Handgunner is worth subscribing to.  Massad Ayoob is a great source of information about guns and tactics.

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May 15, 2015. In a suburb of Jackson, Miss., Larry Goldstein, MD, is in his open garage, loading his pickup truck. A successful gynecologist, his sleepless years in residency and dedication to his long-standing practice have rewarded him with a large, expensive home. Unfortunately, criminals are drawn to signs of money.

 His personal sport for the last five years has been competitive shooting. He is on his way to a USPSA match. He has just put his gear bag in the back seat of the quad cab. In it are two CZ Shadow 9mm pistols, several magazines of 9mm, and enough ammo for the whole match. He hears a noise sounding like a squirrel on the eaves, and suddenly he is confronted by two strange men wearing bandannas over their faces.

 The nearest, a broad-chested guy about 5' 10", shoves a long barreled stainless-steel revolver in his face. Larry makes it for a .357 Magnum. He can see the noses of the live cartridges in the front of the cylinder. The man snarls, “You know what this is?” Larry replies as calmly as he can, “It’s a gun.” Predictably, the next words from the man are, “We want your money!”

 Larry’s gun safe is visible in the garage. The guy with the revolver spins him around, grabs him by the shirt, and forces him toward the safe with the gun’s muzzle at the back of his head. He orders him to open it. Larry’s shaky hands don’t get the combination right at first, and he tries to explain. “You’re lyin’! We’re gonna shoot you!” He finally manages to get the combination right. The intruders start grabbing stuff. There are at least two AR15s in the safe, including a .223, but the one they grab is a Smith & Wesson M&P chambered for .22 LR. They grab a handful of AR magazines and a few handguns and stuff them into a backpack.

 They march him into the house, his hands behind his head and the revolver still at the nape of his neck. Larry does not have a gun on his person. He has earned black belts earlier in his life in Hapkido and Tae Kwon Do. He knows enough to realize a disarming attempt on one of the men will leave him vulnerable to the other. He bides his time. They walk through the bedroom, past Larry’s sleeping wife. He cannot find his billfold — it will later turn up in a pair of pants he was wearing the day before — and the robbers satisfy themselves by pulling all the money from his wife’s purse. Without waking Mrs. Goldstein, they march Larry out of the house. Their plan is to make him drive them to an ATM and empty his account.

 At the pickup, the second man tries to load the AR15 and realizes he can’t fit a .223 magazine into a .22 LR. They make him get a magazine fitting the rifle. Both robbers get into the back seat, the revolver still aimed at the base of his skull, and order him to take them to the bank’s drive-up ATM.

 Going Mobile

 Dr. Goldstein experiences a “water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink” moment. Like many armed citizens (and off-duty cops) he has presumed staging guns reasonably close in the home or vehicle will be adequate. In the console is a Walther PPK .380. In the driver’s door pocket of his pickup are a Ruger LCP .380 and a GLOCK 19. All are loaded.

 He assesses his odds if he reaches for one as he drives. Both robbers are in the back seat, the smaller man (about 5' 7", 150 lbs.) has put a full magazine into the .22 caliber AR, and Larry has to presume him to be armed even though he hasn’t spotted a weapon of the suspect’s own yet.

 The other, directly behind Larry in the rear passenger seat, has the decidedly loaded revolver he’s kept pointed at Larry’s head. The bandits have the case between them containing two CZ 9mms and mags and ammo. At the wheel, he can’t see them both at the same time in the rear-view mirror. If he conspicuously turns around to look at them, it will tip them off and put them on alert.

 Either of them will be able to clearly see if he reaches for the Walther, so the console gun is out. He might be able to slip one of the pistols out of the door pocket with his non-dominant left hand but shooting backward over his shoulder will be awkward and difficult, and he’ll be unlikely to be able to neutralize both before one of them can kill him. The logical strategy still seems to be, “Bide your time.”

 At The ATM

 The robbers ask him how much money he has in his ATM card account. Larry answers truthfully, “About $12,000.” They yell at him, “You’re lying! You live in that big house! You’ve got to have more money!”

 They pull up to the ATM. The security camera will be able to identify only Larry. The masked men in the back seat are largely shielded by the truck’s tinted windows; perhaps they had this in mind when they chose to seat themselves where they did. Larry believes he can only withdraw a thousand dollars per day and tells them so. The refrain comes again, “You’re lyin’! We’re gonna shoot ya! We want it all!” Larry answers as calmly as he can, “We can’t get it all.” They tell him to try for $1,500.

 It takes Larry a while to punch in the numbers. The machine won’t give him $1,500. He tries for $500, gets it, then gets another $500. He tries a third time but hits the wrong buttons, and the machine only gives him $20. Apparently fixated on the stated amount, the robber with the revolver tells him, “Get $480!” He does. They’re satisfied. They tell him to drive.

 As the truck is rolling, the larger criminal tells him, “Okay, we’re gonna take your truck. Go to the woods behind your house … We’re going back to your house and get your wife.” He adds, “We’re gonna put you in the trunk.” Larry has already complied with their order to give him the opening code to their gate, and he knows he has had to leave the house unlocked.

 As a medical doctor Larry Goldstein has spent his career diagnosing. The diagnosis of this particular problem is excruciatingly clear. Drive to the woods. Go to the house and get your wife. We’re gonna put you in the trunk of a pickup truck that has no trunk.

 He realizes they’re going to murder him, go back to the house, and probably murder his unsuspecting wife.

 The stakes of the game have just gone up and Larry Goldstein knows there is only one card left to play.

 Steering with his right hand, he unobtrusively reaches down with his left, lifts the GLOCK 19 from the door pocket, and surreptitiously slips it under his left thigh.

 Last Resort

 They reach a spot in the woods behind Larry’s house. They order him to stop. He does so. They order him to get out of the car.

 As he opens the driver’s door, Larry lifts his left thigh enough to discreetly pick up the GLOCK with his right hand. As he alights on the ground, the man with the revolver opens the door behind Larry’s and prepares to step out, as his accomplice comes out of the right rear door.

 Larry Goldstein channels his five years of USPSA, sweeps the 9mm up rapidly into a two-handed stance, and opens fire.

 He’s shooting as fast as he can. He can see the gunman starting to fall backward, can see a window on the right side of the car shatter as one of his bullets passes through his antagonist and strikes the glass. The robber falls backward on the rear seat, his gun still in a hand that has fallen limply down.

 Larry turns toward the second threat. The other man is running away. Larry fires three shots at him, from about 30 yards. The masked man disappears from view.

 Larry turns his attention to the downed gunman. He sees the revolver is still in his hand, snatches it away, and puts it out of the man’s reach. He grabs the blood-soaked gunman and pulls his body out of the car. The experienced MD knows a dead man when he sees one. The gunman has been hit twice in the abdomen, twice in the chest and once in the head.

 The remaining thug is running in the direction of the Goldstein home. All Larry can think of is his wife’s safety. He jumps behind the wheel of his pickup and goes after him.

 In moments, Larry has eyes on him again. The perpetrator is getting into a tan SUV, apparently the getaway car, he has parked near the church close to Larry’s home. He starts it and begins to drive away. Larry aims his G19 and fires three rounds at the vehicle. It disappears from his view. It’s not heading toward his house; he lets it go.

 They’ve taken his iPhone. Larry Goldstein drives his truck to the nearest house, knocks on the door, and asks the lady who answers the door to call police. She hands him a phone. He first calls his wife, telling her to lock the doors. Then he calls 9-1-1 and gives a brief description of what has happened.

 The first act of the deadly play is over. The second now begins.

 Immediate Aftermath

 The scene not being exactly downtown, it took police 20 minutes to arrive. When he saw them coming, Dr. Goldstein unloaded the GLOCK, set it in the truck and stepped away from it. Patrol officers and detectives alike were professional and understanding.

 A crowd had formed. Having called his wife to reassure her, Larry phoned a friend he was supposed to pick up to go to the match with him. The friend called a mutual friend, an attorney, to meet them at police headquarters. One of the officers drove him there — in the front seat of the patrol car, un-cuffed. With legal counsel by his side, Larry told detectives what had happened. At one point the chief of police arrived. “How are you doing?” he asked Larry. “Not very good,” the doctor replied. “Don’t worry, you’re going to be all right,” the chief said.

 The chief had told him no lie.

 Long Term Aftermath

 Larry was never arrested, never sued, and never had to pay a penny in legal fees. His lawyer friend refused to bill him. He got his guns back in about a week. The escaped suspect was captured within a few days. He had used his personal vehicle as a getaway car and had taken it to an auto body shop to repair the bullet holes and shattered window caused by Larry’s gunfire. “I thought he’d be charged with felony murder,” Larry told American Handgunner later, “but the charges were kidnapping, armed robbery, and home invasion.” Legal proceedings dragged on, as they often do. “In December 2018,” says Larry, “he was convicted on all counts. His sentence added up to about 80 years. He’ll be eligible for parole in 40.”

 Dr. Goldstein got a new truck out of the deal. His had become evidence, necessarily stored with the windows up in an impound lot in Mississippi heat. The rear cabin was soaked with blood. Blood is tissue. Tissue rots. The insurance adjuster opened the door, gagged at the stench, and blurted, “It’s totaled.”

 Needless to say, the incident left an emotional mark. “The next morning when I woke up, it really dawned on me what could have happened, and I lost it,” he remembers. “I was a basket case for a while. Every time I thought about the incident, it really upset me. Later, I went to the family burial plot, and was overwhelmed at how close I had come to joining them.”

 One of the first things he did when he got home was to put a .45 caliber GLOCK 30 where he could reach it immediately. Was the dead man a gang-banger, with buddies who would seek revenge? He didn’t know, but he had to consider the possibility and provide for it. The hypervigilance remained for quite a while, and never entirely went away, even though no reprisals materialized.

 “I went to a psychologist, and studied up on post-traumatic stress disorder,” Larry comments. “I lost appetite. I had trouble sleeping. I did have a few dreams related to the incident.” Before long, he and his wife sold the house and moved. Friends and family were extremely supportive. So, he remembers, were the police and the prosecutor’s office.

 A competitive shooter, Larry had never felt a need to take a defense oriented class. This changed. His 25-minute ordeal sent him on a long odyssey of training, all the way to instructorship; in fact, he and I met when he took my MAG-40 class at the superb Boondocks training facility in Mississippi. He has found sharing with others the lessons of what he went through to be therapeutic.

 Lessons

 The doctor’s short-term hypervigilance settled into simply … vigilance. Larry feels the biggest lesson he learned was the importance of being alert and aware and avoiding complacency. He now carries a gun on his person almost all of his waking hours and is seldom far from one. “I don’t step out to pick up my newspaper or take out the trash without a gun on,” he says adamantly.

 If he had tried to fight earlier than he did, when the odds against him were all but hopeless, he would probably have been murdered and very likely his wife would have been, too. Larry was wise to give them reasons to keep him alive (getting money from the ATM on a weekend), to lull them into complacency with his compliance, and yet be ready to do what had to be done when the moment came.

 He feels his competition experience definitely helped him win the fight with the men who were almost certainly going to murder him. When the time came to shoot, he performed on auto pilot: two-handed, eye level, hits sufficiently fast, accurate and voluminous to keep a deadly opponent from pulling the trigger of the revolver in his hand. Larry had been shooting USPSA for five years when the incident took place. He has continued competition to this day.

 He’s glad he reached for the GLOCK instead of the seven- or eight-shot .380s also within reach. The G19 contained a GLOCK 17 magazine, for a total of eighteen 9mm rounds including the one in the chamber. It still had ammo on board after his three volleys of gunfire. The cartridges were match rounds, mild 147-gr. round nose FMJ handloads. His defense guns have modern defensive ammo in them today.

 When Larry tells his story, one of the first questions he gets is “Didn’t you get in trouble for shooting at the fleeing felon?” The answer is, he didn’t, and this bears some explanation. The man he shot at had committed, not just a felony, but a “heinous felony against the person”: kidnapping. They had given him every reason to believe they intended to murder him. They’d explicitly stated they were next going to get his wife, who was sleeping in an unlocked house while the felon had the combination to the security gate. Larry was without communications, and no other reasonable means of capture seemed feasible. He could not identify the suspect — the only description he could give was a masked African-American man of average size — and if he was not stopped he was likely to remain at large indefinitely.

 Finally, the cornerstone of the United States Supreme Court’s decision in Garner v. Tennessee was even police should only use deadly force on fleeing felons if their continued freedom constituted a clear and present danger to innocent human life. Larry had ample reason to consider this man armed and extremely dangerous. Remember, the thugs had told him they were going back to his house where they all knew Mrs. Goldstein was. While Garner was a civil case and involved police, it remains the defining statement on the mood of our highest court on the use of deadly force on fleeing felons. It is why I think, in this particular set of circumstances, Larry’s actions would have been defensible in court … and it’s probably why the investigating officers and the prosecutors had no problem with Larry’s final shots. Those last three shots, remember, were important factors in the ultimate capture of the surviving thug.

 A last important lesson is it’s BS to think “I live in a nice neighborhood, so I don’t need to keep a gun at hand.” Au contraire: Larry lived in a fine home in a very nice neighborhood and this was one reason he was targeted! We can’t overlook how many times they told him a guy with a house as big as his should have lots of money on hand. The nice neighborhoods are where the best stuff is to steal.

The truth about tear gas and stun grenades near Lafayette Park in 2020

Jonathan Turley at his blog.

Journalism is largely dead.  Tyranny is in view.

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We previously discussed the hypocrisy of the D.C. government and the media after D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser admitted in court that it was the Metropolitan Police Department who used tear gas and stun grenades near the Lafayette Park in 2020. D.C. counsel also insisted that such use was entirely appropriate and sought to dismiss the lawsuit by the Black Lives Matter movement. The media effectively buried the story despite flogging a false narrative against former Attorney General Bill Barr for over a year in non-stop coverage. Barr was even denounced by members of my own faculty. Now, reporters are suing the city for attacking the media. Yet, there is no outcry in the media or from the left against Bowser and her government.

The American Civil Liberties Union has filed a lawsuit on behalf of two photojournalists who claim to have been injured by chemical irritants and stun grenades by Metropolitan Police Department officers during racial justice protests in August 2020.

One of the plaintiffs, freelance photojournalist Oyoma Asinor was arrested and claims that the MPD failed to return his cell phone, camera and goggles for nearly a year.

In the prior litigation, the city waited for a year to reveal the truth that it used tear gas near the park. A year earlier, Bowser condemned the federal government for its clearing of the area and alleged use of tear gas. Much of the media lionized Bowser for her stance at the time. The media also ignored the city’s own history of such abuses. She received national acclaim for painting “Black Lives Matter” on the street next to the park and renaming it “Black Lives Matter Plaza.”

One year later, Bowser kept the “BLM plaza” but opposed the BLM protesters. Her administration insisted in court that the protesters were legitimately teargassed by the metropolitan police to enforce her curfew that night.

After the park clearing, the media uniformly denounced then-Attorney General Bill Barr for ordering the park to be cleared so that President Trump could hold his controversial photo op in front of the St. John’s Church. The accounts in virtually every news report were quickly contradicted, but few reporters acknowledged the later facts coming out of federal agencies. As I noted in my testimony to Congress on the protest, the clearing of the park raised serious legal questions, particularly the unjustified use of force that night.

However, the repeated claim that Barr ordered the clearing of the area for the photo op was never supported and quickly contradicted. The plan to clear the park was set long before there was any discussion of the photo op, and it was based on the threat posed to the White House compound. Barr said he was unaware of any planned photo op when he approved the plan and that the delay in implementing it was due to the late arrival of needed personnel and fencing. Nevertheless, legal experts like University of Texas professor and CNN contributor Steve Vladeck continued to claim that Barr ordered federal officers “to forcibly clear protestors in Lafayette Park to achieve a photo op for Trump.” (Vladeck later offered a bizarre rationalization for his peddling the false account).

The false account was debunked by the Inspector General report. The BLM lawsuit against Barr and the federal government was later dismissed — again with relatively little recognition by the reporters and activists who flogged the false story for a year.

The city is being sued for precisely what Barr and others were accused of in literally hundreds of major articles for a year. Academics and reporters declared the tactics to be an assault on democracy and press freedom. Now, there is largely the familiar sound of crickets from a press corp that increasingly acts like a de facto state media.

Friday, August 13, 2021

The IPCC AR6 Hockey Stick

 Stephen McIntyre argues that the IPCC AR6 Hockey Stick rests on inappropriate data analysis.

Here is the link.

Worth a read to see how arbitrary and, possibly, inappropriate the global warming analysis can be.

Here are some excerpts.

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Although climate scientists keep telling that defects in their “hockey stick” proxy reconstructions don’t matter – that it doesn’t matter whether they use data upside down, that it doesn’t matter if they cherry pick individual series depending on whether they go up in the 20th century, that it doesn’t matter if they discard series that don’t go the “right” way (“hide the decline”), that it doesn’t matter if they used contaminated data or stripbark bristlecones, that such errors don’t matter because the hockey stick itself doesn’t matter – the IPCC remains addicted to hockey sticks: lo and behold, Figure 1a of its newly minted Summary for Policy-makers contains what else – a hockey stick diagram. If you thought Michael Mann’s hockey stick was bad, imagine a woke hockey stick by woke climate scientists. As the climate scientists say, it’s even worse that we thought.

Thursday, August 12, 2021

Dying to be Cool

Will Dabbs, MD, writes about an early experience in The American Handgunner.

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What exactly does it mean to be cool? Though difficult to define, you know it when you see it. Guns are cool. So was Steve McQueen. You get kind of a gestalt about such stuff.

 Some of us spend our entire lives striving mightily to be cool yet fail quite to get there. However, many’s the young man’s unscheduled trip across the river Styx ’twas precipitated by a poorly reasoned effort to be cool.

 The Perfect Day

 It was one of those torrid Mississippi summer afternoons when the sun burned like a furnace and the air was so humid you could rip off a chunk and gnaw it. School was out; I had not a care in the world.

 In my day you got your driver’s license at 15. I wouldn’t trust today’s 15-year-old males unsupervised with gum, much less an automobile. However, this was a different time.

 While I have indeed never been mistaken for cool, my dad did see to it I rolled in a cool car. A young man’s ride is so much more than transportation. It is style, personality, character and status all packaged up on four spinning wheels. My car was pure unfiltered awesome.

 The year was 1981 and the car was a 1970 Buick Skylark convertible. The sole ragtop in my small Mississippi Delta community, it was metallic blue and immensely, nay ludicrously, powerful. I would frequently go sit in the back seat and read science fiction tomes with the top down while parked in the driveway. As I said, being cool was more a journey than a destination with me.

 On this particular day I was sporting cheap, mirrored aviator shades while tearing down a preternaturally straight stretch of Lee Drive, so named for the esteemed General. Like all adolescent males I was young, bulletproof and immortal. Harm could never befall me.

 The Power Of Stupid

 Overcome by the moment, I pushed myself up such that I was sitting atop the headrest. A gangly, long-legged lad, I manipulated the accelerator with my right great toe and kept the wheel nominally managed with my fingertips. My face was fully in the slipstream above the windshield.

 Seatbelts were not the religious sacraments they are today, so mine were tucked down out of the way behind the seat so as not to interfere with my signature dynamic entry into the vehicle — vaulting over the door to land gracefully in the driver’s seat, ready to rock. During such a maneuver, one does not desire the painful inconvenience of seatbelt buckles. As a result, I perched atop my charging metallic blue steed, restrained not one whit.

 My nemesis lurked anonymously  within the tall Johnson grass that lined the rural road, happily munching his mid-afternoon snack. Whether driven by boredom, hunger, or love will never now be known, but he did for some reason then spontaneously take flight. Spreading his broad green wings, this massive 4" Delta grasshopper flexed his powerful legs and leapt into the ether.

 I perceived a scant flurry in the periphery of my vision and my entire world exploded. The gargantuan insect caught me squarely in the forehead and detonated like an antitank grenade, knocking me bodily back into the rear seat and leaving my legs draped limply astride the headrest. At this point my trusty Skylark was still making some 70 miles per hour, though now charging randomly sans pilot.

 I clawed violently back over the seat and dropped in behind the steering wheel again, seizing the appendage in an involuntary rictus. By some miracle throughout it all the car remained within the two white lines of its own accord. No doubt the vehicle was guided solely by my guardian angel, himself a both overworked and underappreciated spook.

 Denouement

 I carefully coasted to a stop on the side of the deserted road and took stock. My sunglasses were gone, never to be seen again. A not insubstantial gash tracked rakishly across my forehead, now most liberally adorned with splintered chunks of chitin and copious pureed pest. I wiped away the gore with an oily towel and puttered meekly back home.

 I crept stealthily into the house and retired to the bathroom to attend my wounds. My dad inquired concerning my injuries over dinner, and I not untruthfully explained I had been struck by a grasshopper while out driving with the top down. All involved thought it comical.

 The truth has remained suppressed to this very day, and now, my friends, I share it with you. 

Wednesday, August 11, 2021

Why The FDA Sucks

 Scott Alexander gets it mostly right at substack.com

It's all about incentives.

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Lots of people have been writing about aducanumab, but this Atlantic article in particular bothers me.

Backing up: aducanumab, aka Aduhelm, is a new “Alzheimers drug” recently approved by the FDA. I use the scare quotes because it’s pretty unclear whether it actually treats Alzheimers. It definitely treats beta-amyloid plaques, and beta-amyloid plaques are kind of nasty-looking brain structures that seem to be related to Alzheimers somehow. But we’re not sure exactly how they’re related, they might not be related in a way where removing them treats Alzheimers, and the best studies don’t find that the drug helps patients feel better or remember things more. Aducanumab doesn’t meet normal FDA standards for approval, but the FDA approved it anyway under one of their many “fast track” programs for promising drugs. This has been pretty roundly criticized, because although aducanumab might or might not work, it definitely costs $50,000/year/patient. Even if it worked great, that would be a hard pill to swallow (no pun intended, Aduheim is an IV infusion), but it’s especially galling since it might not work at all. Doctors will probably prescribe it despite its questionable value, and someone will end up paying the extraordinary price tag.

(Who? Nobody knows. The patient? Insurance companies? Taxpayers? Unrelated patients at the same hospital? Could be anyone! The whole point of the US health insurance system is to make sure nobody ever figures out who bears any particular cost, so that there's no constituency for keeping prices low. If you check your bank account one day and find it's down $50,000 for no reason, I guess you were the guy who ended up on the hook for this one. Sorry!)

Given that the FDA fast-track approved a sketchy drug which probably doesn’t work, it’s fair to wonder if their standards have gotten too lax - or at least if they should stop fast-tracking things. The Atlantic article dutifully makes this case via a somewhat labored global warming metaphor. The FDA’s eroding standards are like "the eroding coastlines and thawing icebergs associated with climate change". There are proposals to make drug approvals harder again, "just as there are proposals for encouraging reductions in carbon emissions", but "as with cap and trade policies for carbon emissions, aggressive approaches have failed in the face of powerful stakeholders". Some doctors are trying to fight back, but "just as switching to an electric car or turning your lights off won't cool a warming planet, a minority of idealistic doctors won't stem the flood of ineffective treatments". The message is clear (if a little heavy-handed): just as good thoughtful people want to end climate change and only greedy polluters oppose this, so good thoughtful people want to make the FDA stricter, and only greedy pharma companies could possibly complain.

While I acknowledge that aducanumab probably sucks, I think the Atlantic article and its global warming metaphor are totally off base. Nobody in the “FDA is too strict” camp has written a rebuttal yet, so I want to try my hand at this.

The FDA Is Still Much Too Strict

The Atlantic article says that “The FDA’s standards began to slide in the late 1980s and early ’90s” with the fast-track approval of AIDS drugs:

A new program in 1992 allowed for “accelerated approval” on the basis of surrogate markers, which are indirect measures of a drug’s benefit, assessed via laboratory or imaging tests, that stand in for more meaningful outcomes such as life expectancy. But the implementation of these accelerated processes was criticized by some scientists and patients, even at the time. In 1994, for example, The New York Times cited skeptics who worried that “no one can tell if the drugs work.” Eight months later, the AIDS activist organization ACT UP San Francisco called Anthony Fauci a “pill-pushing pimp” for supporting CD4 immune-cell counts and viral loads as surrogate markers. They were completely invalid, the activists wrote, and nothing more than “a marketing exec’s wet dream.”

The article acknowledges that the AIDS drugs actually worked out great - they in fact cured AIDS effectively and saved lots of lives. “But”, it concludes, "that level of success is not at all the norm."

I agree. AIDS drugs are abnormally successful, saving tens of thousands of lives per year. If the FDA's expedited review process moved them forward by even a few years, it probably averted a hundred thousand AIDS deaths. True, not every drug they accelerate does this. But some do.

Here’s another good example: coronavirus vaccines. The FDA still has not fully approved any coronavirus vaccine. The only reason you’re allowed to get vaccinated at all is because of a fast-track provisional approval somewhat like the one used for aducanumab. Coronavirus vaccines have probably also averted a few hundred thousand deaths.

So without wanting to say this level of success is “the norm” in the sense that every single fast-tracked drug achieves it, it’s not exactly vanishingly rare. It’s just something that happens sometimes and doesn’t happen sometimes. So how often do you have to save hundreds of thousands of lives before it’s worth the risk of occasionally also permitting a dud medication that “offers false hope”? How is this even a question?

That’s a kind of hand-wavey verbal argument. But doctors, epidemiologists, and economists have tried to formally confirm it with cost-benefit analyses on the last few decades of FDA-approved drugs. How many lives would have been saved if good drugs had been released a few years earlier, versus how many lives would have been lost by missing dangerous side effects? I think the current state of the art is something like Isakov, Lo, and Monterhozedjat , which finds that there are a tiny few disease categories where the FDA might be slightly too aggressive, but that overall the FDA is still much too conservative.

And these kinds of analyses, while good, can only count the drugs we know about. The real cost is the thousands of life-saving medications that are stillborn because nobody wants to go through the literally-one-billion-dollars-per-drug FDA approval process.

Ranting About The FDA For A Bunch Of Paragraphs

The Atlantic article doesn’t really include a cost-benefit analysis. But it does mention a couple of examples of times when lax FDA decisions seemed bad, for example when they “approved saline breast implants despite safety concerns”. I feel like this should give me the right to describe a couple of my least favorite FDA decisions, so we can see whether they’re more or less convincing than the breast implant thing.

The countries that got through COVID the best (eg South Korea and Taiwan) controlled it through test-and-trace. This allowed them to scrape by with minimal lockdown and almost no deaths. But it only worked because they started testing and tracing really quickly - almost the moment they learned that the coronavirus existed. Could the US have done equally well?

I think yes. A bunch of laboratories, universities, and health care groups came up with COVID tests before the virus was even in the US, and were 100% ready to deploy them. But when the US declared that the coronavirus was a “public health emergency”, the FDA announced that the emergency was so grave that they were banning all coronavirus testing, so that nobody could take advantage of the emergency to peddle shoddy tests. Perhaps you might feel like this is exactly the opposite of what you should do during an emergency? This is a sure sign that you will never work for the FDA.

The FDA supposedly had some plan in place to get non-shoddy coronavirus tests. For a while, this plan was “send your samples to the CDC in Atlanta, we’ll allow it if and only if they do it directly in their headquarters”. But the CDC headquarters wasn’t set up for large-scale testing, and the turnaround time to send samples to Atlanta meant that people had days to go around spreading the virus before results got back. After this proved inadequate, the FDA allowed various other things. They told labs that they would offer emergency approval for their kits - but placed such onerous requirements on getting the approval that almost no labs could achieve it (for example, you needed to prove you’d tested it against many different coronavirus samples, but it was so early in the pandemic that most people didn’t have access to that many). Then they approved a CDC kit which that the CDC could send to places other than their headquarters, but this kit contained a defective component and returned “positive” every time. The defective component was easy to replace, but if you used your own copy like a cowboy then the test wouldn’t be FDA-approved anymore and you could lose your license for administering it.

A group called the Association of Public Health Laboratories literally begged the FDA to be allowed to deploy the COVID tests they had sitting on the shelf ready for use. The head of the APHL went to the head of the FDA and begged him, in what they described as “an extraordinary and rare request”, to be allowed to test for the coronavirus. The FDA head just wrote back saying that “false diagnostic test results can lead to significant adverse public health consequences”.

So everyone sat on their defective FDA-approved coronavirus tests, and their excellent high-quality non-FDA approved coronavirus tests that they were banned from using, and didn’t test anyone for coronavirus. Meanwhile, American citizens who had recently visited Wuhan or other COVID hotspots started falling sick and asking their doctors or health departments whether they had COVID. Since the FDA had essentially banned testing, those departments told their citizens that they couldn’t help and they should just use their best judgment. Most of those people went out and interacted and spread the virus, and incidence started growing exponentially. By March 1, China was testing millions of people a week, South Korea had tested 65,000 people, and the USA had done a grand total of 459 coronavirus tests. The pandemic in these three countries went pretty much how you would expect based on those numbers.

There were so, so many chances to avert this. NYT did a great article on Dr. Helen Chu, a doctor in Seattle who was running a study on flu prevalence back in February 2020, when nobody thought the coronavirus was in the US. She realized that she could test her flu samples for coronavirus, did it, and sure enough discovered that COVID had reached the US. The FDA sprung into action, awarded her a medal for her initiative, and - haha, no, they shut her down because they hadn’t approved her lab for coronavirus testing. She was trying to hand them a test-and-trace program all ready to go on a silver platter, they shut her down, and we had no idea whether/how/where the coronavirus was spreading on the US West Coast for several more weeks.

Although the FDA did kill thousands of people by unnecessarily delaying COVID tests, at least it also killed thousands of people by unnecessarily delaying COVID vaccines. I’ll let you click on links for the details (1, 2, 3, 4, etc, etc, etc) except to remind you that they still have not officially granted full approval to a single COVID vaccine, and the only reason we can get these at all is through provisional approvals that they wouldn’t have granted without so much political pressure.

I worry that people are going to come away from this with some conclusion like “wow, the FDA seemed really unprepared to handle COVID.” No. It’s not that specific. Every single thing the FDA does is like this. Every single hour of every single day the FDA does things exactly this stupid and destructive, and the only reason you never hear about the others is because they’re about some disease with a name like Schmoe’s Syndrome and a few hundred cases nationwide instead of something big and media-worthy like coronavirus. I am a doctor and sometimes I have to deal with the Schmoe’s Syndromes of the world and every f@$king time there is some story about the FDA doing something exactly this awful and counterproductive. A while back I learned about cholestasis in infant Short Bowel Syndrome, a rare condition with only a few hundred cases nationwide. Babies cannot digest food effectively, but you can save their lives by using an IV line to direct nutrients directly into their veins. But you need to use the right nutrient fluid. The FDA approved one version of the nutrient fluid, but it caused some problems, especially liver damage. Drawing on European research, some scientists suggested that a version with fish oil would cause less liver damage - but the fish oil version wasn’t FDA-approved. A bunch of babies kept getting liver damage, and everyone knew how to stop it, but if anyone did the FDA would take away their licenses and shut them down. Around 2010, Boston Children’s Hospital found some loophole that let them add fish oil to their nutrient fluid on site, and infants with short bowel syndrome at that one hospital stopped getting liver damage, and the FDA grudgingly agreed to permit it but banned them from distributing their formulation or letting it cross state lines - so for a while if you wanted your baby to get decent treatment for this condition you had to have them spend their infancy in one specific hospital in Massachusetts. Around 2015 the FDA said that if your doctor applied for a special exemption, they would let you import the fish-oil nutritional fluid from Europe, but you were only able to apply after your baby was getting liver damage, and the FDA might just say no. Finally in 2018 the FDA got around to approving the corrected nutritional fluid and now babies with short bowel syndrome do fine, after twenty years of easily preventable state-mandated damage and death. And it’s not just this and coronavirus, I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW TYPICAL THIS IS OF EVERYTHING THE FDA DOES ALL THE TIME.

[edit: people have asked me for more details about the fish oil story - I’ve written it up at more length here]

…anyway, The Atlantic says the FDA needs to be stricter and wait longer to approve things, and I am against this.

But How Can The FDA Be Too Strict And Not Strict Enough At The Same Time?

Very easily! Lots of things are too strict and not strict enough at the same time! I wrote a whole article on this! It sounds like it should be paradoxical, but it isn’t!

Consider the police. I once had a psychotic patient threaten to kill a family member. I reported it to the police. They asked me where they could find the patient, I said I dunno, maybe at his house or something? I called them back a few hours later asking how things were going, and they said they had knocked on the patient’s door and he hadn’t answered, so they felt like they had discharged their duty in this matter and were going to close the case. I asked if maybe they could go back to the patient’s house and try again later, and they acted like I was asking them to hunt down Osama bin Laden in the caves of Tora Bora or something.

I think this is a pretty typical experience a lot of people have dealing with the police, especially in the Bay (unofficial motto: “San Francisco - Where Crime Is Legal”). A friend had a really scary stalker, and kept reporting him to the police, and the police’s answer, phrased only slightly uncharitably, was “Have you, as of now, already been murdered by this person? No? Then stop wasting our time.” My friend was left with the feeling that the police could have been a little stricter or more proactive.

On the other hand, you get stories where police think someone might be growing marijuana or whatever, they gather a SWAT team complete with surplus tanks from Iraq, they break down the person’s door, and they shoot everyone involved because “it looked like they might be reaching for a gun”. If anyone survives, the police stick them in prison for ten years for “resisting arrest” or something. Maybe these people are left with the feeling that police could stand to be a little less strict and less proactive.

So which is it? Are the police too strict, or not strict enough? I don’t think there’s a good answer to this question. I would rather say the police are bad at their job. Maybe not literally, because being a policeman is hard, and I don’t want to judge them until I’ve walked a mile in their jackboots. But something has gone wrong, something more fundamental than just they lean too hard in one direction or another, something that requires a solution more complicated than moving a Police Intensity Lever from LESS to MORE.

My own profession is little better, as I’ve discussed before. Many people get diagnosed with psychiatric diseases and pumped full of medication when they shouldn’t be. Other people don’t get diagnosed with psychiatric diseases or treated with medication even when they desperately need it. Moving the Psychiatry Lever from MORE to LESS or vice versa might accomplish something, but it’s clearly not the whole story.

The FDA has a very hard job, and handles it with a level of badness that makes police officers look like one of those omnicompetent fictional intelligence agencies by comparison. I mean, if anyone ever gives you control of the FDA Lever, you should definitely absolutely for the love of God push it as far toward LESS as it is possible for it to go - I think this is what all those cost-benefit analyses the epidemiologists and economists publish are telling you, and it’s also what my common sense and ethics tell me. But I have to admit that this isn’t costless. It’s going to let a lot of crappy drugs like aducanumab get through and give people false hope.

(a problem which, I can’t stress enough, is not as bad as causing hundreds of thousands of people to die of easily preventable causes. Please move the lever all the way to LESS. Even if it’s already there, see if maybe you can push it a few micrometers further.)

Is there some better solution?

Sympathy For The Devil

I want to stress that, despite my feelings about the FDA, I don’t think individual FDA bureaucrats, or even necessarily the FDA director, consistently make stupid mistakes. I think that given their mandate - approve drugs that definitely work, reject ones that are unsafe/ineffective, expect people to freak out and demand your head if any unsafe/ineffective drug gets through, nobody will care no matter how many lifesaving treatments you delay or stifle outright - they’re doing the best they can. There are a few cases, like aducanumab, where it seems like they move a little faster than that mandate would suggest, and a few other cases, like infant nutrient fluid, where they move a little slower. But basically they are fulfilling their mandate to the best of the ability of the very smart people who work there.

And it’s hard to even blame the people who set the FDA’s mandate. They’re also doing the best they can given what kind of country / what kind of people we are. If some politician ever stopped fighting the Global War On Terror, then eventually some Saudi with a fertilizer bomb would slip through and kill ~5 people. And then everyone would tar and feather the politician who dared relax our vigilance, and we would all restart the Global War On Terror twice as hard, and drone strike twice as many weddings. This is true even if the War on Terror itself has an arbitrary cost in people killed / money spent / freedoms lost. The FDA mandate is set the same way - we’re open to paying limitless costs, as long as it lets us avoid a very specific kind of scandal which the media will turn into 24-7 humiliation of whoever let it happen. If I were a politician operating under these constraints, I’m not sure I could do any better.

So the long-term solution is to become a different kind of country and different sorts of people - eg raise the sanity waterline. This will have nice side benefits like also ending the global war on terror. But until then, are there any small changes that would help around the edges?

Unbundle FDA Approval

The most plausible small change I can think of is to unbundle FDA approval.

Consider: everyone knows the evidence for aducanumab is poor. You know it. I know it. Scientists know it. Journalists know it. So why exactly are we expecting lots of people to spend $50,000/year on this drug?

The answer is: there are complicated laws around what insurance companies have to cover, and FDA approval is a big part of them. I don’t understand the exact legalities of this, but it seems like Medicare and Medicaid have to cover anything the FDA approves. The situation with private insurances is more complicated but still not great. My guess is that if a private insurance covers an Alzheimers patient, and a doctor says that aducanumab is “medically necessary” for that patient, and the insurance doesn’t cover it, and the patient’s Alzheimers gets worse, that patient can sue the insurance company for failing to provide standard of care. What makes it standard of care? Because the FDA approved it, and Medicaid and Medicare are giving it to their patients, of course!

(Why would doctors say this useless drug is “medically necessary”? Well, some large fraction of doctors are stupid and believe whatever drug companies tell them. Some other fraction - including me - are pushovers when a really sad-looking patient begs them for the one thing they believe will help. Once an insurance company agrees to cover a drug, neither the patient nor the doctor has any incentive to avoid it just because it costs $50,000. At this point not even the most optimistic person expects forbearance by doctors to be very helpful here.)

So now that the FDA has approved this stupid useless drug, lots of doctors will prescribe it, everybody will be forced to pay for it, and the US health system will become even more prohibitively expensive. Not to any specific recognizable party who can notice or object, of course. But in general.

So when I talk about unbundling FDA approval, I mean that instead of the FDA approving the following bundle of things…

  1. It’s legal for doctors to prescribe a drug.
  2. It is mandatory for insurances to cover a drug.
…the FDA can say one of those two things, but not the other.

Right now these decisions are so charged because, if something doesn’t have FDA approval, then even someone who desperately wants a medication, and has researched it very hard, and is being treated by the world’s top specialist in their condition, and is willing to pay for it with their own money - can’t get it. But if something does have FDA approval, then any moron can get it, just because they saw a TV ad saying it was the hot new thing, and the government/insurance/other patients/Yagmuk will be forced to cover the entire price.

There’s a third thing it might be helpful to unbundle, one we’re already secretly unbundling. When the FDA delayed COVID vaccine approval, or refused to approve various brands of COVID vaccine, or suspended the distribution of COVID vaccines for bad reasons, it always had the same excuse - what if there was a side effect? The problem isn’t that people might die - people were definitely dying from their decision to delay/ban vaccines. The problem was that people might stop trusting the FDA. They would say “the FDA allowed me to take this drug, but it was dangerous, screw them, I will never take an FDA-approved drug again in my life and only use homeopathy from now on.” The FDA and medical policymakers live in terror of this scenario. They feel like if they ever allow even one bad drug through, then in the eyes of the public all kinds of anti-vax hysteria and vaccines-cause-autism bullshit will be retroactively justified, and public health officials will never have any authority ever again. If you model all FDA/CDC/etc policy as an attempt to avert this outcome, your predictions will be right more often than not.

This is another thing I’m pretty sympathetic about - social trust is a valuable resource. But it also means that public policy will forever be held hostage to the whims of the stupidest person around. Every time someone sneezes, the FDA will ban whichever brand of COVID vaccine they got - because if they didn’t, then stupid people might believe the FDA didn’t take vaccine side effects seriously, and then those stupid people would stop getting vaccines and die. This policy has led to our current situation, where either everyone has to be miserable because of stupid people’s choices (eg everyone has to wear masks forever because a few people won’t get vaccinated) or we get a strong anti-freedom lobby because allowing anyone any freedom means that the rest of us have to suffer for their stupid choices.

So maybe a third thing we could unbundle is:

        3. The FDA is staking its entire reputation on this drug.

I think that unbundling is what the FDA is trying to do right now with COVID vaccines. They approve them for emergency use. If future evidence proves the vaccines safe, then good, we got them. If future evidence proves the vaccines unsafe, then the FDA can say “yeah, well, technically we never said they were safe, so this doesn’t mean we’re ever wrong”. If some moron says “You say I should get my MMR vaccine, but, you also said I should get my COVID vaccine, and later it turned out that COVID vaccines make your eyes fall out and go rolling around the room”, then the FDA can say “Yeah, but we only gave emergency provisional approval to the COVID vaccine, whereas we’ve given complete permanent approval to the MMR vaccine.”

Maybe it’s expecting too much of the American people, but I wish the FDA could lean into this strategy. Grant drugs one-star, two-star, etc approvals. Maybe one-star would mean it seems grossly safe, the rats we gave it to didn’t die, but we can’t say anything more than that. Two-star means it’s almost certainly safe, but we have no idea about effectiveness. Three-star means some weak and controversial evidence for effectiveness, this is probably where aducanumab is right now. Four-star means that scientific consensus is lined up behind the idea that this is effective, this is probably where the COVID vaccines are right now. Five star is the really extreme one where you’re boasting that Zeus himself could not challenge the effectiveness of this drug - the level of certainty around MMR vaccine not causing autism or something like that.

Then you could attach different legal rights and requirements to each of those. Maybe the world’s top specialists could start prescribing a drug once it has two-star approval, regular doctors could prescribe it with three-star, drug companies can’t start advertising it until it’s four-star, and insurance companies are mandated to cover it once it’s five-star.

People are really scared of this solution, because it introduces choice into this system. If you say that insurance companies are allowed to cover a certain drug, but not forced to do so, then different insurances will cover different drugs, and you’ll have the usual capitalism / free market thing. Patients will have to choose which insurance to get without necessarily knowing very much about medicine, and maybe companies will try to trick or exploit them, and maybe the patients will make the wrong choice.

This is the nightmare scenario that the existing US health system exists to avoid. I know you can think of lots of different ways that changing things could go wrong, and so can I. But I can’t stress enough how often the current system results in things going wrong that nobody thought of because the things are too stupid for anyone to even imagine they were possible.

Final Thoughts

In conclusion, and contra The Atlantic, the FDA approving aducanumab is not very much like global warming at all. It is more like global warming in an alternate universe, where the government sometimes approves pollutants, and then everyone is forced to emit millions of tons of them whether they want to or not. Sometimes the government orders people to build a coal plant in the middle of the desert where nobody lives, a coal plant that isn't even connected to anything and just burns lots of coal without producing any electricity. But also, elderly people frequently freeze to death because the government refuses to give them permission to heat their house in the middle of winter. There is lively debate over whether the government should build more useless coal plants or let more elderly people freeze to death, and anyone who thinks there should be a better way of doing things is condemned as some kind of fringe libertarian. I really cannot stress enough how accurate this metaphor is or how much everything in the medical system is like this.

Tuesday, August 10, 2021

Analysis Of A Real Self-Defense Event: The Stiffler Case

By Massad Ayoob a the American Handgunner.

Massad F. Ayoob (born July 20, 1948) is an American firearms and self-defense instructor. He has taught police techniques and civilian self-defense to both law enforcement officers and private citizens since 1974. He was the director of the Lethal Force Institute in Concord, New Hampshire, from 1981 to 2009, and now operates his own company.[1] Ayoob has appeared as an expert witness in several trials. He served as a part-time police officer in New Hampshire since 1972 and retired in 2017 with the rank of Captain from the Grantham, New Hampshire, police department.[2] On September 30th 2020, Ayoob was named president[3] of the Second Amendment Foundation.

While Ayoob has been in the courtroom as a testifying police officer, expert witness, and police prosecutor, he is not an attorney; he is, however, a former Vice Chairman of the Forensic Evidence Committee of the National Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers (NACDL), and is believed to be the only non-attorney ever to hold this position.[4][5] His course for attorneys, titled "The Management of the Lethal Force/Deadly Weapons Case", was, according to Jeffrey Weiner: "the best course for everything you need to know but are never taught in law school.
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 It’s a pleasant May afternoon in East Helena, Montana. Henry Johnson, 37, is having an easy day so far. There was no one present when he broke into the home he’s burglarizing.

 He’s a lifelong burglar with a lengthy history of violence and weapon possession, though he’s not armed at the moment. He doesn’t look like the stereotype of a burglar. He’s wearing gray sport slacks, a button-front shirt complete with necktie, and running shoes. The only incongruity in his garb is his mismatched gloves, worn so he won’t leave fingerprints.

 A common burglary MO is to knock on doors dressed like an ordinary Joe. If someone answers whom he thinks he can take, the burglar can overpower them, and if the homeowner seems too intimidating, being dressed like a salesman allows a song and dance; it’s up to him whether to go away when the homeowner says, “We don’t want any.” And if no one answers the door at all, why, that’s an invitation to break and enter.

 Standing over six feet tall and weighing 241 lbs., Johnson easily broke through the unanswered door and discovered no one inside. So far, so good. But he has carelessly left the broken door ajar and the curtains are up. He is rifling through the china closet in the dining room when he hears a pickup truck pull into the yard.

 Looking out the front window, Henry Johnson sees a much older man at the wheel of the pickup. Henry Johnson’s day is about to get less easy.

 Homeowner Reacts

 In his mid-60s, James Stiffler and his wife of 45 years, Sandie, are both retired. Sandie has a part-time job and Jim dabbles in real estate sales and selling guns and accessories. A longtime gun enthusiast, he’s had an FFL for years.

 Pulling into the driveway, he’s noticed an unfamiliar sedan parked there. It’s a time of day when his wife should be at home, but he can’t be certain because the double garage doors are closed — so he can’t tell if her car is there.

 But his eyes take in the broken front door, and through the window, the big stranger. Jim’s first thought is for his wife’s safety. He can’t know if the burglar brought a weapon with him, but he assumes he has one because Jim keeps a fully loaded SIG SAUER P220 .45 pistol in plain sight on his bedside night table. A loaded Remington 700 .223 for varmints is in the bedroom. He figures the intruder probably has at least one gun by now.

 The location is remote, the nearest neighboring house barely in line of sight, and the homeowner knows it will take too long for police to get there. There isn’t time to call 9-1-1. Jim grabs the 9mm pistol he keeps in his briefcase, a compact DA Star UltraStar, and rushes toward his house.

 Confrontation

 Stiffler moves cautiously through the house, gun at a low ready. The trigger is in DA mode, his finger outside the trigger guard. With the curtains open and the sun streaming in, he has plenty of light. He calls out, “Is anyone here?” Suddenly, there’s a noise in the computer room. Making his way there, with his wife’s sewing room on his left, he spots the big man tugging at the knob of the back door of the computer room, trying to open it and escape. But Johnson doesn’t know the door is double-locked and isn’t going to open.

 He turns angrily toward Stiffler.

 The View From Behind The Gun

 Henry Johnson growls menacingly, “I’m going to hurt you!” He lunges at Stiffler. To Jim, the rest of the world falls away: There is only the huge man coming toward him as if reaching for Jim’s gun.

 Jim Stiffler is more than 60 lbs. lighter than Henry Johnson, inches shorter, and hobbled by a bad back and a knee so bad it requires the brace he’s wearing now. There is only one reasonable thing left to do.

 Jim Stiffler snaps his 9mm up to a Weaver stance and fires.

 He sees Johnson spin away from him, moving rapidly to Johnson’s right and Stiffler’s left, running toward the sewing room. Stiffler stops shooting, with only the one round discharged. He sees the intruder enter the small adjacent sewing room. Jim hears him cranking open the window and realizes that’s where he’s going to exit. Jim heads outside to see where the man is going.

 There is a brief “WTF?” moment. Jim hears an engine come to life and then roar; there’s a sound of spinning tires and gravel hitting the house. Jim has made his way back outside, hobbling on the bad leg as fast as he can, and gains the porch where he can see the sedan, its tires spinning. The vehicle has crashed through Jim’s fence, hit a pile of concrete blocks, and become stuck. The intruder is behind the wheel, still moving. Jim aims at the rear tire and fires a shot and then hears the voice of his long-ago firearms instructor Frank Lloyd telling him never to shoot at a tire. He takes his finger off the trigger. The second and last shot of the encounter echoes away.

 It takes some few moments for him to realize, but the incident is over.

 Investigation

 When the police arrived, they found Henry Johnson behind the wheel of his sedan, his head lolled back against the headrest and his eyes closed. The evidence photos look like a man taking a nap in the driver’s seat until you spot the bloodstained hole in the center chest.

 The police were sympathetic. Once he was ID’d, a record check showed Henry Johnson had been convicted over the years for multiple burglaries and crimes of violence, some committed while armed. It turned out Jim’s wife hadn’t come home yet, but the police realized Jim couldn’t have known that.

 Then the autopsy report came in. It revealed the deceased had tattoos depicting a Grim Reaper and lightning bolts. If body ink says something about who the wearer is, Henry Johnson had left the message on his corpse. But the autopsy showed something else.

 The single, fatal perforating gunshot wound of the chest had entered from the rear at the edge of the shoulder blade and exited the chest.

 Some 23 months later the District Attorney charged Jim Stiffler with Intentional Homicide, the term the black letter law of Montana uses for murder.

 The Trial

 Long after the shooting, in first quarter 2016, Jim Stiffler went on trial in Helena. He was most ably defended by lead counsel Quentin Rhoades, with Nicole Siefert as co-counsel. Prosecutor Leo Gallagher painted a picture for the jury of an unarmed man, as “helpless as a baby” against the nefarious defendant who had been shot in the back as he harmlessly exited a window after committing a mere property crime.

 Quentin Rhoades had been to the self-defense trial rodeo before and knew exactly how to craft an “affirmative defense,” which says in essence, “Yes, my client shot him, but he was absolutely correct in doing so.” Among other witnesses, Rhoades called me and two other experts to the stand — and the defendant himself.

 Dr. Dan Reisberg, author of Cognition: Explaining the Science of the Mind, educated the jury on altered perceptions during traumatic, life-threatening incidents which occur at high speed. He explained why, though Jim remembered firing as he faced the attacker with the back-door area behind Johnson as he fired, no bullet was recovered there. He also explained why tunnel vision would have kept Jim from correctly orienting his surroundings during the sudden attack.

 Gary Marbut did an excellent job of explaining the ballistics in the case, and the angle of the shot, and why the location of an ejected spent casing couldn’t be relied upon to show where everyone involved was at the instant of the shot.

 My role was explaining disparity of force, the situation in which an unarmed man attacking an armed one can be devastatingly lethal. Johnson was much bigger, younger and stronger

than Stiffler. Johnson was able-bodied and Stiffler physically handicapped due to back and leg troubles — another disparity of force factor. And at the moment the shot was fired, no more than 15 feet separated the men, putting the intruder a second or less away from deflecting, and then gaining control of, Stiffler’s weapon. I reiterated why Stiffler had reason to believe Johnson was quite likely already armed with Stiffler’s own SIG .45.

 Finally, I demonstrated to the jury the interlinked action/reaction dynamics, which explained why Stiffler had honestly thought he’d shot Johnson in the front.

 The raising and firing of the gun happens in a fraction of a second.

 When reacting to the raised muzzle, the attacker’s reflexive turn away from danger can cause his lateral midline to cross the muzzle of the defender’s gun in as little as a quarter of a second.

 Studies show while reaction to anticipated stimulus runs an average of about 0.25 of one second, it takes about three quarters of a second — or more — for a shooter to cognitively process the unanticipated stimulus of the attacker unexpectedly breaking off the assault. The shooter goes through the whole OODA loop of Col. John Boyd. Observe (the eyes see) what is happening, Orient (the brain figures out what the visual input means), Decide what to do now (stop pulling the trigger), and Act (physically stop shooting). I stated honestly what the State was asking of Stiffler was not humanly possible.

 In his own testimony before I got there, the defendant had conceded on cross while he thought the man had turned clockwise at the shot, he couldn’t be 100 percent certain it hadn’t been counter-clockwise. The prosecutor brought this up when he cross-examined me, so we did the demonstration again, turning in the opposite direction. The outcome was the same.

 In his final argument, the prosecutor argued by entering his own home to save his wife from a large intruder who had smashed through the front door of their home, Jim Stiffler had become the “initial aggressor” and was therefore not entitled to a self-defense finding.

 The outcome was a hung jury, 10 voting to acquit and two to convict. Not long after, the prosecutor dismissed the case rather than try it again. Jim had already won his first battle — to survive. He had now won his second and stayed out of prison with a clean criminal record. Now came his third battle, the civil lawsuit.

 The Civil Case

 Plaintiffs sued on behalf of the dead man’s minor child for wrongful death. The suit was settled out of court for $20,000 paid by Jim’s homeowner’s insurance company. That’s highly unusual and we’ll explain why momentarily.

 Personal Aftermath

 Four years after the trial and seven years after the shooting, Jim Stiffler told me, “For about the first two weeks I had nightmares and a hard time sleeping. During the case, neither my wife nor I could sleep, and I lost about 20 lbs. We got a lot of help and support from the community. We’d be at dinner and people would come up, tell me I did the right thing, and slip me $100. Even during the trial at the courthouse people would come up and slip C-notes into my pocket. My friends in the realtor community put on a big fundraiser gathering about $40,000 for the defense.”

 I went through the trial with his lawyers, good ones who don’t come cheap. They sympathized with Jim and gave him a $300,000 defense for $100,000, with an estimated $60,000 additional in related expenses. Jim wound up getting a reverse mortgage on the house he and his wife had almost paid off and cashing in stocks he thought would fund his retirement. “I spent two years in a PTSD group, peer support, and saw a therapist for about a year,” Jim adds.

 Lessons

 Don’t count on a jury of your peers. Quentin Rhoades had meticulously selected jurors who all said they could render a not guilty verdict in a self-defense case. It turned out the two jurors who insisted on conviction told the rest of the panel shooting someone in self-defense was wrong; Rhoades learned this after debriefing most of the other jurors subsequent to trial. The two holdouts for conviction wouldn’t talk to him.

 Don’t expect your jury to learn how bad a “bad guy” your aggressor was. Prior acts by your opponent, if not known to you at the time you harmed him, will generally not be allowed in front of the jury. Some version of Federal Rule of Evidence 404(b) exists in almost every state. You’re being judged by the reasonable man standard: What would a reasonable and prudent person have done, in the exact same situation, knowing what you the defendant knew at the time? There are work-arounds and some state supreme court case-law precedents have worked to reverse this in the past, but that’s not yet universal and didn’t apply in Montana. The jury in Stiffler’s case was never allowed to know Henry Johnson’s savage

Criminal Background.

 Be prepared to take the witness stand. In a self-defense case, who shot who is stipulated from the beginning: It comes down to why did the defendant shoot the person, and only the defendant can truly answer this. Stiffler handled himself very well on the stand.

 Expect dirty tricks. Let’s say you were a store owner lawfully detaining a shoplifter when the thief suddenly pulled a knife and you had to shoot him. Expect opposing counsel to ask you something like, “Do you think someone deserves capital punishment for petty theft?” Sure enough, on cross-examination the prosecutor asked Stiffler if he thought Henry Johnson deserved to die for stealing mere property. Stiffler’s answer was a right cross knockdown punch which brought this line of questioning to an abrupt end. “I didn’t deserve to die, either,” he said.

 Don’t try to pinpoint your exact position in a fluid life-or-death situation. Trajectory evidence showed the men were placed slightly differently than Jim remembered, because the acute tunnel vision he predictably experienced made him unable to perceive background.

 Don’t leave guns lying around the house where a burglar might take them — he might just have them in hand when you confront him. Johnson apparently never got to Jim’s SIG or Remington, but Jim’s reasonable fear of such was an element in the case. He now carries on his person a Kimber Micro 9 most of the time and a 10mm GLOCK 20 when he’s in the mountains.

 Don’t presume a self-defense immunity statute will keep you from being sued after you’ve been cleared by the criminal justice system. Quentin Rhoades tells me they have such a statute in Montana, but the plaintiff’s lawyers tried to get past this by arguing the shooting was negligent. Such statutes protect from lawsuits only those who intentionally fired in self-defense, and a negligence argument can circumvent the protection.

 Don’t count on your homeowner liability insurance to protect you in a civil suit after a self-defense shooting. There is no such thing as a “justifiable accident.” An intentional shooting of another person is argued by plaintiffs as a “willful tort,” an intentional act that harms another. Read your homeowner’s or automobile liability policy — they usually expressly exempt the insurer for having to pay for a willful tort. Stiffler’s insurance company, because the plaintiffs alleged negligence instead of willful tort, paid off the $20,000 because it was much cheaper than going to trial on the negligence allegation. I also suspect the plaintiff’s counsel gratefully accepted the $20K, a pathetic “chump change” settlement in a world where verdicts for the plaintiff in wrongful death cases normally run into seven figures, because they knew they were unlikely to prove negligence at trial.

 When you’re in such a situation, get the best lawyers for the job. The job in this case was not criminal defense, but affirmative defense. The best criminal defense lawyers got their reputation by getting off guilty people. The strategy for defending the rights of the guilty is almost 180 degrees opposite from the strategy needed in an affirmative defense case like this, where you need to show the jury while you did the act, you were absolutely correct in doing so. Rhoades and Siefert accomplished exactly that and gave Jim Stiffler and his wife their lives back.

 Finally, consider joining a post-self-defense support group. I was already on board as a staff member with the Armed Citizens Self-Defense Network (www.armedcitizensnetwork.org) when I took this case. Stiffler didn’t have this kind of protection. You just saw how brutal a financial hit Jim Stiffler took to get his and his wife’s lives back. I had seen it before. And, sadly, we will all see it again. 

Monday, August 02, 2021

Armed Citizen Stops Spree Killer

 From the Ayoob files at the American Handgunner.

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Situation:

You are shopping with your family when a gunman on a rampage opens fire in the store … and you are armed.

Lesson:

Planning for emergencies — and training for them — can save more lives than just your own.

Sunday, June 17, 2018, late afternoon. It’s Father’s Day. David George, 47, enters the WalMart in Tumwater, Washington with his wife, his adult daughter, and his young granddaughter. They are exchanging the little girl’s tricycle, and David heads to the customer service desk at the front of the store. It’s a pleasant day and David is dressed casually, in shorts and a tee shirt. The untucked tee conceals a Gen3 GLOCK 19 pistol with Ameri-Glo sights, worn at the 3:30 position behind his right hip in a Blade-Tech Nano inside the waistband holster. A pastor by vocation, he’s also a volunteer EMT. Both jobs have made him a natural protector of others and his daily wear of a concealed handgun is simply an extension of this identity.

In the next few minutes, David George will find a desperate need to use his GLOCK.

Rampage

Timothy Day, 44, has been convicted of at least seven crimes, and has twice served hard time for being a felon in possession of a firearm. He has a history of abusing his wife and others. He will later be described by his former wife of 13 years as a paranoid drug user. Northwest Public Broadcasting reporter Austin Jenkins will later write, “… Day had a history of mental illness and was prone to bouts of paranoia — often fueled by using meth. [His former wife] started carrying a concealed pistol to protect herself against Day. She also had a protection order against him because of Day’s history of domestic violence [and said], ‘He would put his hands over my face, covering my mouth and my nose and, of course, I would try to fight back and he would hold on and I would almost pass out … I tried so hard to tell the courts not to let him out, that he would hurt somebody.’”

Her plea had apparently fallen on deaf ears. On this day, he has borrowed a car and gotten a gun from someone else, a Ruger LCR. He begins his spree attempting to steal another car from a family near a gas station. Unsuccessful, he flees, driving in the wrong direction on a highway entering the city of Tumwater.

Near Tumwater High School, he crashes his vehicle at an intersection. Q13 News will later report, “He then left his car and attempted to carjack at least two other people, fired shots at the vehicles, and demanded owners abandon their cars. Day was successful in carjacking a third vehicle that he drove to WalMart, police said. Upon arriving, officers found a 16-year-old boy and another victim suffering from minor injuries.”

The boy’s “minor injury” was a gunshot wound. Day had shot the boy in the hand while trying to steal his car. Another motorist was the luckiest of all: the bullet Day had fired at his head had barely missed, striking the headrest instead.

Violent Spree Continues

At or shortly before 4:40 PM, the many WalMart security cameras begin to capture the image of Tim Day in action. His stolen SUV is seen trying to back into a cart corral and bump into it instead, then move jerkily away and park in front of the main entrance. The cameras now record proof of the general public’s obliviousness to their surroundings.

Not only does no one so much as glance when he jumps out of a car rudely and obstructively parked out of place: No one seems to take notice when Day emerges, gun in hand, and runs through the inside of the WalMart, traversing nearly the length of the building diagonally. One person obligingly, automatically steps out of his way without so much as a backward glance; another, bumped by Day, turns with an indignant “What?!” body language but does not appear to see the loaded revolver the man who ran into him is plainly holding.

Day makes his way to the sporting goods section, where he approaches the locked glass-front ammunition display. A security camera shows us two muzzle flashes and flying glass as he shoots it open, pulls out a box of .38 Special ammo, and calmly proceeds to reload the LCR. He then closes the cylinder and moves away briskly, only to return to snatch up the box with the remaining rounds. Day then races toward the front door.

It is the gunfire that finally pierces the oblivion. One shopper will say later he and his friends were in denial, hoping they had heard balloons popping. But, at the front of the store, experienced shooter David George knows gunfire when he hears it. So does his adult daughter, who instantly scoops up her child, abandons her shopping cart, and makes her way to an exit. She will be, David later remembers proudly, the first to exit the danger scene by a good five or six seconds.

Confrontation

At the front of the store, David George is in Tim Day’s escape path as the latter runs toward the front doors. He sees George staring at him and swings the Ruger up at him.
As a part-time EMT, George has treated at least three gunshot victims he can remember, a fatal rifle-shot and two non-fatal handgun wounds. The thought “This is gonna hurt” races through his mind as he ducks behind cover. Day does not fire, turning away and running out the front door.

David begins to follow. He knows his family must be out of danger by now. They’ve gone over this beforehand. Just as he has told his daughter to expeditiously leave the scene if something like this ever happens, he has also told his family to move away from him in such a situation so they’re not in the line of the criminal gunfire he knows he will attract if he draws his gun. They have followed the plan.

At the door, David discovers he’s not the only armed citizen at the scene. Jesse Zamora is there too, putting a hand on David’s chest and telling him protectively, “I’ve got a gun, man.” The two bond, and move out of the WalMart into the parking lot.

More Gunfire

They see Day attempt a carjacking, and can’t know it’s not the gunman’s first such attempt of the afternoon. The driver of the vehicle, Rickey Fievez, resists. As he reverses his car and backs away, Day shoots him twice, in the chest and neck. Instantly paralyzed from the neck down by the wounds, Fievez crashes into a parked vehicle. The frustrated gunman turns to the next person he can see by a vehicle, a woman.

He points a gun at her too, and she tells him to take the car, the keys are in it. He jumps into the driver’s seat. She hides, inexplicably, behind the same car.

Finale

This is the situation confronting David George as he approaches the vehicle in the parking lot: the woman crouching desperately behind her own vehicle for cover, and Day in her car with an expression of rage on his face. Day is pounding fist and gun on the dashboard in frustration — desperate to survive, the woman has misled him. There are no keys in the car and he can’t get it started.

And now, at last, David George’s GLOCK 19 is in his hand, leveled on the gunman as George approaches from behind the vehicle

Instead of surrendering at gunpoint, Day begins to turn his revolver toward George.

Five staccato shots explode in the parking lot: BAMBAM — BAMBAMBAM.

Perhaps seven feet away, on the passenger side of what the gunman had hoped would be his getaway car, David George fires a double-tap from a two-handed Isosceles stance. The gunman’s body seems to freeze for an instant, but then he tries to bring the revolver back at him again, and George launches three more shots.

Day reaches to open the driver’s door of the stolen car. “Hands! Hands! I want to see your hands,” David yells at the gunman. Then, able to see the revolver has been dropped on the front seat, David holds his fire.

Day manages to emerge from the car, but the five gunshot wounds in his upper torso have taken effect. He slumps to the pavement. George can see his shots have all gone into the chest, the lowest appearing to be diaphragm high. The gunman rattles off a bit of agonal breathing, and then, very soon, it’s over.

Immediate Aftermath

Police officers had been only about a mile and a half away, investigating the earlier carjacking and shooting scene, when the calls came in from WalMart. They made it to the new shooting scene quickly. By that time, the pastor/EMT had holstered his GLOCK and was already treating the gravely wounded Rickey Fievez.

Police emerged from their vehicles and asked, “Who shot him?” People pointed their fingers at David George and shouted, “That guy!” At the point of an AR15 patrol rifle, they ordered him into a kneeling position, his hands visible at his head, and took his gun.

However, the “who did what to who” quickly sorted out. Paramedics had not yet arrived. When George asked if he could go back to treating the wounded victim, the officers consented.

George gave a recorded statement at the police station. He asked the investigating officer if he needed an attorney. “I can’t tell you that,” the cop answered, “but I can tell you this: my supervisor says you’re a witness, not a suspect.”

By 10:30 the next morning, the Tumwater Police Department had officially declared David George had been cleared in the shooting.

And the press was calling him more than a witness.

They were calling him a hero.

Long-Term Aftermath

No lawsuit has been filed on behalf of the estate of the dead gunman. Tim Day’s long-suffering ex-wife was asked by a reporter how she felt toward David George, the man who had killed her husband. She answered, “I don’t judge. He did what he had to do.” Fox News called David “The Good Samaritan Pastor.” One of the witnesses and potential victims at the WalMart, Bryan Adams, spoke for many more when he told a reporter, “He is a hero. He took action. I really think more people could have been shot … he saved us all.”

Detective Lieutenant Jennifer Kolb of Tumwater PD told American Handgunner, “We had a lot of agencies assisting us. This allowed us to complete the investigation in such a timely manner…. Our recommendation was a finding of justifiable homicide; one of the prosecutors did a thorough review over a few weeks, and agreed. There is absolutely no doubt Mr. George saved many lives.”

It’s hard to imagine a more quintessential “Good Guy” than a full-time pastor and volunteer emergency medical technician. And it’s hard to imagine a more archetypal bad guy than a long-term felon, serial abuser, meth-head and spree shooter. This certainly helps the good guy involved to deal with the psychological and emotional aftermath.

What is called colloquially “post-shooting trauma” seems to have two manifestations which are almost universal, no matter how righteous the use of force may have been: some element of sleep disturbance, and the sociological phenomenon the great police psychologist Dr. Walter Gorski defined as “Mark of Cain” syndrome. David George did not escape either.

He told us he stayed up most of that night going over the incident in his mind, tormenting himself with the question, “What could he have done to keep Tim Day from shooting and horribly crippling Rickey Fievez?” Logically, he concluded with what knowledge he had to work with at each stage of the event, he had done the best anyone in his position could.

“Mark of Cain” syndrome is the realization people are treating you differently as a result of your having shot someone. In David’s case, the attention was positive but almost overwhelmingly so.

At David’s request, the police kept his name out of it. They described the Samaritan-rescuer as a pastor in a small town nearby who was also an EMT and lieutenant rank on the local fire department. There weren’t too many folks who fit that profile, and the media quickly sniffed him out. Soon, David told us, “The press was all over it.” He figured a press release would put an end to it, and put one together with the help of Alan Gottlieb at the Second Amendment Foundation.

“The funniest phone call of all,” David remembers, “was from a major network that wanted me on its morning show. I said ‘No, I’m giving a press release.’ She said, ‘This is a hot story, tomorrow no one may want to know it.’ I said, ‘That’s fine with me!’”

Most people in every circle of his life were supportive of the hero who was credited with stopping what might well have become a mass murder spree. But not all. “A few people became standoffish,” he says. He later learned in most of these cases, it was because they simply didn’t know what to say to him.

Altered Perceptions

Most people involved in life or death situations experience altered perceptions to some degree, and again, this case was no exception. I teach every summer at the Firearms Academy of Seattle, and a month or so after the shooting, David was kind enough to drop by and give my class a lecture. He had trained at FAS before the shooting. A year later, at which time he had learned more about the incident and the man he had been forced to kill, he returned to take my MAG-40 class, and gave an expanded lecture on the occasion. Part of the curriculum includes the physio-psychological aspects of violent encounters, and David told the class, “I experienced just about everything in last night’s homework.”

Tachypsychia, the sense of things happening in slow motion? Check. “I felt I had all the time in the world,” he told me. Auditory exclusion, gunfire sounding muted or even silent? Check. “I was wondering why my ears weren’t ringing as I sat on the sidewalk afterward.”

Tunnel vision? Check. He had thought fellow armed citizen Jesse Zamora was right behind him as he approached the gunman in the parking lot, but he was wrong. Zamora’s pistol, a Phoenix .22, had jammed when he went to activate the slide and put a round in the chamber. By the time he got the now-damaged round out, jacked a new one into the chamber, and ran to assist George, the last shots had been fired. Zamora’s equipment had not lived up to his courage.

Lessons

First responder confidence and competence. David George had trained extensively with his GLOCK 19 at the Firearms Academy of Seattle and elsewhere. The training held. He remembers actually thinking “Front sight, press!” as he fired the shots ending Day’s deadly spree. All five shots struck where aimed: a 100 percent hit ratio, resulting in relatively swift threat neutralization.

Smart engagement tactics prevented mistaken identity tragedy when two law-abiding armed citizens who didn’t know each other responded to the threat. George, in his EMT role, had trained with police for response to active killer situations, and had been told by the cops any person with a gun not wearing a uniform was highly likely to be shot by mistake by responding officers. Accordingly, he did not draw his gun until he saw Day firing directly at the innocent. A role model for us all, including plainclothes and off-duty or retired cops.

Both men secured their lambs from the wolf before they went after the wolf. George had long since worked out a plan with his wife and daughter that in such a situation, they would expeditiously leave the danger scene while he engaged, and it worked out perfectly. Zamora told me he hadn’t worked that out beforehand with his girlfriend and her kids, but when the first shots went off in the WalMart he instructed them to escape safely, and they did so.

A highly reliable pistol with an already-chambered round allowed George to prevail in a very rapid timeframe. By contrast, Zamora’s inexpensive .22 jammed when he attempted to rack a round into the empty chamber, essentially taking him out of the fight at the most crucial time. Would his .22 ammo have worked as well as George’s 9mm HST rounds? We’ll never know, but no professional would bet on it.

Use of cover. David George told us he faults himself for squaring up with the threat on the passenger side of the car instead of taking better cover. I don’t think he should beat himself up over this. Looking at the surveillance video of the shooting, it appears he had to get pretty close to where he wound up to guarantee safe and efficient neutralization of the gunman.

Moreover, challenging Day from behind the stolen car would have been problematic. For one thing, that’s where the woman who owned it had huddled. Taking a challenge position there could have drawn the gunman’s fire to her location.

American Handgunner wishes to thank David George, Jesse Zamora, and Lt. Jennifer Kolb for their assistance in making this article possible. We also applaud lead investigator Tim Eikum, Detective Bryent Finch, the Thurston County prosecutor’s office and all the emergency service personnel who handled this case so competently and fairly. This incident stands as a classic example of the life-saving value of competent armed citizens at such deadly danger scenes, and the truism it takes a “Good Guy With a Gun” to stop a Bad Guy With a Gun.

Sunday, August 01, 2021

Models are not reality. Nor are they data

Matt Ridley provides some perspective on models, be they COVID or climate change or anything else.

MR is on target.

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Again and again, worst-case scenarios are presented with absurd precision, and the problem goes further than Britain's slow reopening

My article for The Telegraph:

Britain leads the pack on vaccination, but lags far behind America, Germany and France on liberation. A big reason is that our Government remains in thrall to a profession that has performed uniquely badly during the pandemic: modellers. The Government’s reliance on Sage experts’ computer modelling to predict what would happen with or without various interventions has proved about as useful as the ancient Roman habit of consulting trained experts in “haruspicy” – interpreting the entrails of chickens.

As Sarah Knapton has revealed in these pages, the brutal postponement of Freedom Day coincided with the release of a bunch of alarmist models predicting a huge new wave of deaths. The most pessimistic, inevitably from Imperial College, forecast 203,824 deaths over the next year. It did so by assuming just a 77-87 per cent reduction in hospitalisations following two vaccinations, despite the fact that real world data shows two vaccinations to be between 92 per cent (AstraZeneca) and 96 per cent (Pfizer) effective in preventing hospitalisation. That would cut the Imperial forecast of deaths by a gob-smacking 90 per cent to 26,854.

This keeps happening. In April the modellers assumed a 30 per cent effectiveness for the vaccine at preventing the spread of the virus. This was described as “a pessimistic view – but it is plausible, it’s not extreme”, by Professor Graham Medley, chairman of the SPI-M sub-group of Sage. It turns out it was far from plausible. At the end of March the BBC’s favourite modeller, Imperial College’s Neil Ferguson, was forecasting that by June 21, even with “optimistic” assumptions, less than half of Britain would be protected against severe disease by vaccination. The true figure is over 80 per cent of those aged 18 and over that have been vaccinated at least once.

This is the same Professor Ferguson who told us in the 1990s that millions might die of mad-cow disease. The correct number, as it turned out, was 178.

The experts would reply that ours is an uncertain world, but we knew that already. If you don’t know, say so. That new variants came along at the end of 2020 and ignited a terrible second wave may seem to have vindicated pessimists, but their models had no assumptions about variants in them. Being right for the wrong reasons was the excuse of haruspicy, too.

Again and again, worst-case scenarios are presented with absurd precision, sometimes deliberately to frighten us into compliance. The notorious press conference last October that told us 4,000 people a day might die was based on a model that was already well out of date.

Pessimism bias in modelling has two roots. The first is that worst-case scenarios are more likely to catch the attention of ministers and broadcasters: academics are as competitive as anybody in seeking such attention. The second is that modellers have little to lose by being pessimistic, but being too optimistic risks can ruin their reputations. Ask Michael Fish, the weather forecaster who in 1987 reassured viewers that hurricanes hardly ever happen.

As Steve Baker MP has been arguing for months, the modellers must face formal challenge. It is not just in the case of Covid that haruspicy is determining policy. There is a growing tendency to speak about the outcomes of models in language that implies they generate evidence, rather than forecasts. This is especially a problem in the field of climate science. As the novelist Michael Crichton put it in 2003: “No longer are models judged by how well they reproduce data from the real world: increasingly, models provide the data. As if they were themselves a reality.”

Examine the forecasts underpinning government agencies’ plans for climate change and you will find they often rely on a notorious model called RCP8.5, which was always intended as extreme and unrealistic. Among a stack of bonkers assumptions, it projects that the world will get half its energy from coal in 2100, burning 10 times as much as today, even using it to make fuel for aircraft and vehicles. In this and every other respect, RCP8.5 is already badly wrong, but it has infected policy-makers like a virus, a fact you generally have to dig out of the footnotes of government documents.

In 2020 even the BBC ran an article about how RCP8.5 had been misused. Yet a year later in March 2021, the Met Office published a study claiming that climate change would make dairy cattle and potatoes wilt in the heat in 30 years. Sure enough, it was based on RCP8.5, which the Met Office described as “credible” in its press release. They just cannot help themselves.

Nearly two decades ago, Professor Philip Thomas of Bristol University got the death toll from mad-cow disease right – “a few hundred”, he said – and was pilloried for his optimism.

He told an inquiry that “the Government’s continued inability to give proper consideration to the spectrum of scientific opinion… must be a cause for major concern. It is clear that those tasked with devising policy – ministers and civil servants – need to adopt a more critical attitude to the scientific advice they are offered, even when that advice comes from one of their advisory bodies.” That warning was ignored.