Children learn from violence we normalize

Last week, the country recorded its second school shooting in just over a month, this time at Ateneo de Zamboanga High School. Still reeling from the tragic shooting in Tacloban a month ago, which left several students dead and injured, we are once again confronted with the devastating consequences of guns finding their way into a school.

A student reportedly armed with both long and short firearms entered the school and opened fire, killing a fellow student before taking his own life. Tragically, both the shooter and the victim were reportedly honor students with promising lives ahead of them.

Reports further said that the shooter gained access to a government-issued firearm that belonged to his father, who is a Customs police officer. He also had access to another licensed firearm belonging to his father. This bears disturbing similarities to the Tacloban shooting, where the perpetrators likewise obtained government-issued and licensed firearms.

The lesson is painfully obvious. Licensed firearms must be kept securely and responsibly, especially when children are present. Parents and guardians who fail to properly safeguard lethal weapons cannot simply wash their hands of the consequences. Had these firearms been properly secured, these children would not have had such easy access to weapons capable of taking lives.

But the problem does not end with negligent gun owners. While the Philippines is certainly not the United States, where guns can be bought with alarming ease, gun violence remains a serious peace-and-order and law-enforcement problem. The proliferation of loose firearms is particularly troubling.

DILG Secretary Jonvic Remulla has said that 98 percent of gun crimes in the country involve loose firearms. He has pointed to the so-called “Robin Padilla Law,” or Republic Act 8294, which he said reduced penalties for illegal firearm possession. Remulla argued that the lower penalties made illegal gun possession bailable and contributed to the proliferation of loose firearms.

The law has acquired the “Robin Padilla Law” moniker not because he authored it, but because he was among its first beneficiaries, helping pave the way for his early release from prison following his conviction for illegal gun possession.

Instead of engaging Remulla’s argument, Robin was more interested in celebrating a law that carries his name. He expectedly missed the point. Again. He is proud of being associated with a measure that critics argue did little to make ordinary Filipinos safer while easing penalties for gun-related offenses, including the crime for which he himself was convicted.

This is the same Robin who, after the Tacloban school shooting, suggested sending 10-year-old children to jail with adult criminals, while weeks earlier aiding the escape of Sen. Bato dela Rosa, who is wanted by the International Criminal Court (ICC) and accused of mass murder.

And now, Robin wants to punish children yet again, this time by proposing a total social media ban for young people in response to the Zamboanga school shooting.

The hypocrisy is breathtaking. Robin wants kids behind bars, off social media, while celebrating reduced jail time for adult gun criminals and helping a fugitive from international justice evade accountability.

If anyone should be banned from social media, it is Robin and his dangerous simplisms and logical fallacies.

If only Robin maximized his free WiFi at the Senate, he would have easily learned that such a measure is not a magic wand. In Australia, where a social media ban for under-16s is in place, kids have found ways around it through new accounts, virtual private networks (VPNs) and platforms not covered by the restrictions.

There is a valid case for stronger social media regulation, especially against violent groups that target, groom and radicalize children online. But there is a world of difference between regulation and a blanket ban. The former can protect children; the latter risks creating a “forbidden-fruit effect,” driving social media use underground and breeding resentment rather than responsibility.

But if we are serious about understanding school violence, we have to look beyond guns and social media, and confront the broader culture of violence and impunity that has been normalized in our politics.

For years, the Dutertes have treated the language of killing as political currency. Who could forget former president Rodrigo Duterte’s many kill threats, including his threat to chop off Cardinal Pablo Virgilio “Ambo” David’s head for speaking out against extrajudicial killings? Or Vice President Sara Duterte’s public death threats against the President, her once-upon-a-time dynastic ally?

Do we honestly think children grow up in a vacuum? Can we seriously expect children to reject violence when the adults around them vote for, support, defend and worship extrajudicial killers?

Children learn from what society normalizes. When violence and cruelty are treated as strength and impunity as political power, we should not be surprised when the consequences eventually reach our schools.

If we are serious in addressing school violence, we need more than Robin Padilla shenanigans. We need stronger measures and stricter enforcement on firearm ownership, possession, storage and use; smarter social media regulation that protects children while cultivating responsibility rather than driving them underground and greater public subsidies for youth mental health care.

And, above all, we need to reject the culture of violence and impunity that has been normalized and worsened by the Dutertes. We cannot raise children to reject violence while the adults around them glorify it. We cannot demand responsibility from the youth while we reward impunity.

If we want safer schools, we must reject violent and incompetent leaders and build a society that makes safety, accountability, empathy and responsibility the norm, not violence and impunity.