I recently spoke with a lady whose daughter had been the victim of an attempted abduction. The daughter was able to repel her attacker, and the mother was able to get a description of the perpetrator and the license-plate number of his vehicle.
A crisis was averted, and thanks to a keen sense of observation on the mother’s part, the criminal will likely be apprehended in short order.
The mother has a license to carry a firearm. In playing the events over in her head, it occurred to her that she might have been justified in using her weapon to hold the man for the police. She asked me about it, and I had to give an honest answer.
Painful as it may be to hear, that answer is an emphatic “no.”
In this case, I can only imagine how bitterly tempting the prospect may be. Nobody wants their child to fall into the clutches of a depraved predator, but there are some very serious potential consequences involved in taking action.
In most states, you can effect a citizen’s arrest if you witness a felony taking place. Very rarely would such a thing be a good idea in practice. Civilians do not have many of the powers granted to police, nor do we enjoy the privilege of having a battery of experienced lawyers to defend us should there be consequences.
There can be severe criminal penalties if things go wrong, not to mention the huge potential for civil liability.
Imagine cornering the guy in the first paragraph. I draw my sidearm and inform him that he’s under arrest. How do I stop him from simply walking away?
Do I shoot him? Nope. He’s not a threat at that point, and my culpability could include charges for murder.
Do I attempt to restrain him? Am I able to match his strength? What if he’s hurt? Then I’m looking at charges of assault and false imprisonment. A jury in a civil suit could levy huge penalties for any harm inflicted, as well as for the infringement of his rights.
What if he decides to push the issue? He may decide to see if I’m bluffing and try to call me on it. There’s a good chance he’s a career criminal, and that he’s been in a few scraps. He can spot the will to pull the trigger, and worse yet, he can spot its absence.
He could overpower me and take the gun, or he could spook me into firing. If I do shoot, can I convince a jury it was self defense? Though I don’t have a strict duty to retreat, a human being is dead, and I’m going to need all the help I can get convincing the jury that I had no choice but to shoot. After all, I was attempting to detain someone who already displayed the potential for violence. I could have walked away, right?
That, and the last words I want a responding officer to note in his report are, “I didn’t mean to shoot him.”
Then there’s the factor of living with the fact that I’ve taken a human life, justified or not. I’ve spoken to folks who’ve had to shoot in self defense. The psychological trauma is significant, and it’s not something I’d want to face.
Fortunately, the mother had considered some of the possible consequences. She approached me feeling that she should have done more, which is perfectly natural. At this point, the idea of holding the man at gunpoint was simply a hypothetical, and we were able to talk in the abstract.
The most important thing is that she and her daughter were unhurt, and that she did not have to rely on force to ensure that. Relief, not regret, should be the order of the day.
While there may be circumstances under which I could pull off a citizen’s arrest, I doubt they’ll ever present themselves. I don’t carry a gun to enforce the law; I carry it to protect against imminent threats to my safety. Leave apprehension to the professionals.
Though some of its advice is slightly dated (even by the author’s standards), I strongly recommend Massad Ayoob’s book In the Gravest Extreme. Chapter 3 is entitled “The Dangerous Myth of Citizen’s Arrest,” and has many salient observations on the subject.