Opinion: Club Q: Why wasn’t Colorado’s red flag law used? | Fair and unbalanced
If there’s one thing we’ve learned over the years, it’s that there is no moral victory in a gun massacre. But after the massacre at Club Q, there have been, perhaps, some half-hopeful reactions.
One, of course, is the growing revulsion many people feel toward those who, having lost on the same-sex marriage culture front, are now accusing drag show performers, transgender people, and others in the LGBTQ community of are so-called “groomers” who would harass the children themselves or “groom” them for others.
It’s an updated QAnon-era revision of the old, widely debunked slur that conflates gay men with pedophiles. And somehow, during the mid-term election campaigns, furs and litter boxes became part of that conversation. Believe me, the furry fight is related to all of this. I can only assume that Heidi Ganahl, who lost by 18 points in her gubernatorial race against the openly gay Jared Polis, thought that bringing up the unfavorable issue—which is one-sided, not to mention absurd, shot at those who are LGBTQ—would help her cause somewhat.
Let’s agree that it didn’t happen, just as we can agree that the bogus case helped make Ganahl a national laughingstock. Lauren Boebert may not have helped either.
But there’s also this encouraging news: Some people around the country are now wondering why Colorado’s red flag law was never used against the Club Q gunman, who, in June 2021, was charged with criminal threats and kidnapping in a case that it was never done. in court. The shooter’s mother called 911, saying her son was threatening her with a gun and a homemade bomb. The police arrived and there was a standoff.
The case was later dismissed, and if you’re looking for some missing details, that’s because the El Paso County 4th Judicial District Attorney’s Office closed the case. The Colorado Sunalong with other major news organizations, will go to court to try to clear up the matter.
But knowing only as much as we do, it’s easy to see that the red flag law—officially known as the Extreme Risk Protection Order (ERPO for short)—was drafted with this type of case in mind.
For those who are confused as to why the law was not invoked, they need not think back to 2019 — when the controversial law was being debated in the state legislature.
When Colorado boldly passed its red flag law — as one of 19 states, along with the District of Columbia, to have one — anyone paying attention feared it would have woefully little impact.
This is not because the law is not a good law. It is a good law. I’d even say it’s a pretty good law, as these things go. When you hear opponents of the law say it’s not a panacea for gun violence — yes, some actually say that — you have to question the logic that says any law involving guns must solve all gun violence. in order to be valid.
What we knew early on was that many sheriffs and district attorneys in the state would never use the law. We actually knew this before the law passed because many sheriffs and DAs said so. And loudly. I mean, when a sheriff personally decides that a law is unconstitutional — without the help of, say, a judge or even a lawyer — it would be hard not to laugh if the issue wasn’t so serious.
And then, of course, a long list of woefully unserious county commissioners entered the fray. Thirty-some counties in Colorado have declared themselves “Second Amendment Sanctuaries,” apparently a play on those cities and states that critics say serve as havens for undocumented immigrants.
Among those who said from the start that they would not enforce the law were, of course, the El Paso County Sheriff’s Office and the El Paso County Commissioners, who determined—again without the help of, say, a law professor—that the law “violates the inalienable rights of the citizens of unincorporated El Paso County.”
And guess what: After the Club Q massacre, El Paso County Sheriff Bill Elder said sun that his office has never used the red flag law, under which judges can issue an order temporarily removing firearms from a person believed to be a danger to themselves or others. Meanwhile, Colorado Springs Mayor John Suthers says we shouldn’t assume the red flag law would have applied to the 2021 shooter incident.
Here’s a primer on the law: A family member, family member, or law enforcement official can initiate the process, and the person whose guns are taken away has the right to a hearing after 14 days to lift the order.
There is a strange twist to opposition to the law, starting with the fact that, according to polls, 70 to 80 percent of people favor red flag laws. We know the training that generally follows gun massacres. Those who don’t want to do anything about gun safety will first offer “thoughts and prayers” and then change the subject. But since insincere thoughts and prayers have been widely mocked, gun rights people have tried to shift the story to mental health issues.
It’s not that mental health isn’t a major problem in the country — as it seems to be in most places — but it’s hardly the answer to ending gun violence. But the red flag law addresses mental health issues, including the risk of suicide. More people die by gun suicide than by gun murder.
But as I wondered when the law was being debated and some counties were threatening to become Second Amendment sanctuaries, could the resistance mean that if, say, a Denver judge decided, after hearing sworn testimony, that guns should were removed from an individual, that person can run in, say, Weld County to avoid the decision. And Weld County could offer a mentally challenged well-armed, uh, sanctuary?
I don’t know if this has ever happened in Colorado or anywhere else. Or if it would be legal. But I could see it happening, even assuming most sheriffs would follow a judge’s decision.
And yet, here’s the sad fact of Colorado’s law: According to an Associated Press report, Colorado uses the red flag law about a third as often as other states with the law.
Polis, who signed the bill into law, says the problem is that not enough people know about the law and that we need to “evangelize” so family members and household members can use it.
Maybe he’s right. But I guess it’s the same old story about guns. When other countries have suffered gun massacres or are faced with out-of-control gun violence, they often try to do something about it. In America, we mourn the victims and then pretend we can do no more.
And even if there is a law, like in Colorado, that allows a 14-day furlough for potentially dangerous people, for much of the gun rights lobby, 14 days is apparently too much.
Mike Littwin’s column is produced for The Colorado Sun, a reader-supported news organization committed to covering the people, places and politics of Colorado. Learn more at coloradosun.com.