It takes an astonishing lack of awareness about the volatile present tense, amid rising political violence in a country awash in firearms, to propose legislation that would let politicians carry concealed guns into the Ohio Statehouse.
But the Republican co-sponsors of Ohio House Bill 460, state Reps. Thad Claggett of Newark and Bernard Willis of Springfield, seem oblivious to the potential lethal ramifications of mixing explosive politics with easy access to handguns.
Ohio House Bill 460, introduced only a week after the murder of right-wing activist Charlie Kirk, is the latest measure spearheaded by GOP lawmakers in the General Assembly to relax state gun restrictions in public buildings in a nod to gun rights absolutists.
But promotion of this particular bill, in the red-hot fallout of the Kirk shooting, which included vehement calls on the right for avenging his death with all-out war on the left, was strikingly tone-deaf in a frightening juncture of political unrest made worse by reckless posturing.
In contrast, responsible, bipartisan leadership in the legislature recognized that a tinderbox of violent escalation required immediate de-escalation of knee-jerk politics that spark hostile reaction and provoke alarm — like a proposal to arm warring partisans in the state capital with hidden weapons.
Instead, top legislative officials expressed their common values in the wake of a tragedy.
A joint statement from Republican Ohio House Speaker Matt Huffman, Republican Ohio Senate President Rob McColley, Democratic Minority House Leader Dani Isaacsohn and Senate Minority Leader Nickie Antonio stressed that a free democracy “depends on the open and peaceful exchange of ideas.”
But they warned, “political violence destroys the bedrock upon which that freedom of expression is built” because when there is fear that political viewpoints “might lead to political violence, we are no longer able to speak our minds or advocate for our priorities.”
Consider that fear quotient going through the roof during an especially contentious policy fight between polar opposite factions verbally duking it out in a legislative chamber where agitated ideologues have concealed Glocks at the ready as emotions fray.
Bizarrely, Claggett, the Licking County Republican behind the concealed carry bill for members of the legislature (as well as statewide elected officials and judges), appeared to suggest more handguns were somehow an antidote to the fraught nature of polarized politics, a necessary protection for elected officials “in places where people can get heated.”
But what happens if some of those heated people with guns lose control in the passion of the moment? What happens when a feud between armed political rivals gets personal in the Statehouse?
Two other Ohio House Republicans, state Reps. Justin Pizzulli and Adams Mathews, also co-sponsored legislation to loosen Ohio’s concealed carry laws earlier this year.
They want to allow firearms in some government buildings that have a courtroom.
Ohio House Bill 68, a reintroduction of a measure from the previous General Assembly, would mostly affect smaller municipalities in Ohio that have multi-use public buildings that may, for example, house city council chambers and city offices as well as a magistrate court.
Under the proposed bill, a gun owner could bring a concealed weapon into a municipal center with a courtroom, except when court is in session.
You could conceivably go to your local city hall or municipal office to pay a utility bill or get a zoning permit and not know whether the individual next to you has a loaded Smith and Wesson in a shielded holster.
But what if a judicial proceeding is scheduled in that public building after someone brings a concealed handgun into the facility, perhaps posing a threat before the court even gavels into business?
It wouldn’t be the first time an aggrieved litigant plotted an armed confrontation to settle a dispute or silence an accuser.
What if a disgruntled public employee with perceived workplace grievances and a concealed weapon comes to the job prepared to reconcile conflict with violence?
It has certainly happened in the past with current or former government employees, including the high-profile mass shooting tragedy at the municipal building in Virginia Beach, Virginia, in 2019.
Pizzulli insists his “common-sense” legislation “empowers local control and strengthens our concealed carry framework.”
But what does House Bill 68 do to protect residents at a city council meeting where the presence of intimidating firearms might create a tense atmosphere and potentially push a shouting match into threats of gun violence?
How does allowing concealed weapons in public buildings — in a state with a permitless concealed carry law that removed important safety measures like comprehensive background checks, fingerprinting and firearm training requirements — minimize the threat of everyday clashes escalating into deadly situations with potentially dangerous or untrained individuals able to conceal carry in fiery public hearings or heavily trafficked public spaces?
Ultimately, why change gun-free zones in government buildings, with or without courtrooms, if the safety benefits to the people who visit or work in those buildings outweigh the risks of carrying hidden weapons in public venues?
Nobody, outside of gun rights absolutists and the oblivious politicians they own, is clamoring for more loaded firearms at their local city hall.
Seriously. Why would anyone deliberately tempt fate in a country reeling from horrific political killings and the pervasive, numbing, uniquely American scourge of daily gun slaughter?
This commentary was originally published by the Ohio Capital Journal and is republished here with permission.