Don’t Shoot! An Argument for Unarmed EMS

There is an important discussion happening right now about whether EMS personnel should be armed. I have had conflicting feelings about this issue for years, but I think we’re fast approaching a tipping point, as the world of public safety seems to be growing more violent and tense. The November 2016 ambush of police officers in Iowa illustrates with sickening clarity the real danger of being vulnerable in a hostile world. Despite this inevitable risk and the legitimate points raised by advocates of armed EMS, however, becoming an armed first responder sounds like a bad idea to me.

A little personal background for context: I am not antigun. Both of my parents were police officers. I learned to shoot as soon as I was big enough to hold a firearm. I received a rifle for my birthday when I was in elementary school. I have held a concealed carry permit for years, and I typically carry a pistol either in my vehicle or on my hip when I am off duty. Plus, I live in Alabama. Firearms are as much a part of our culture as college football and sweet tea. Mostly nobody bats an eye around here when someone walks into a restaurant or store openly carrying a pistol.

For years before my time, my service allowed employees to carry firearms if they chose. My favorite EMS image of all time is a photo from the local newspaper (maybe circa 1980) showing a pioneer of EMS in our area crouched in the road at an accident scene with a gigantic revolver sticking out of his back pocket.

Their firearms policy at my service has since been eliminated, and we are no longer allowed to carry guns on duty. Nevertheless, within the larger local fire and EMS community, there remains a sort of unwritten “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy regarding firearms. I’m certain I’ve worked with armed partners on the ambulance at every service I’ve been with, but it’s not something that’s ever discussed in a professional setting in the absence of a close personal friendship. Lately I have noticed a few volunteers in more rural areas openly carrying pistols on calls, but the majority of responders I have been around seem to maintain the same sort of low-key attitude about the issue.

Despite my own familiarity with firearms and the generally permissive attitude about them in my area, I have never carried a gun on the ambulance with me. In no particular order, here are the reasons why:

1. In 18 years of EMS, I have never once found myself in a situation where I felt unsafe because I didn’t have a gun. In retrospect I cannot recall a single instance during my career about which I now think, I wish I had killed someone that day. I understand this is subject to change at any moment, and I understand that many others have not been so fortunate, but this is my experience.

2. I am not the police. I do not want to be the police. I do not want to look like the police or act like the police. I have no desire to fight with, detain, arrest, injure or kill anyone. I don’t like conflict. I don’t care about having authority or deciding who is right or wrong. I only want to help. Some EMS providers do seem to enjoy acting like the police. I recommend that these people actually become police officers or soldiers or MMA fighters so they can channel their aggression appropriately.

3. First do no harm—that’s us. I want my patients to trust me and think of me as someone who will help them regardless of their situation or what they may have done. It’s hard enough to gain people’s trust and convince them I really am trying to act in their best interest without them thinking I might decide to kill them.

4. I am not properly trained. I know how to aim and fire a gun, but I have no formal training on how to handle a gun in an actual fight. The odds of me being shot with my own gun are probably a lot higher than I would like to believe. Gun or no gun, someone with military or law enforcement training would likely still have the upper hand in a close altercation with me.

5. I am too busy to worry about protecting my gun. I am focused on treating my patient, not the things in my pockets or on my belt. Someone could easily snatch my pistol out of its holster while I’m engaged with a patient, and I might not even notice.

6. I don’t need another heavy, bulky, expensive thing to carry around.

7. Carrying a gun makes me think about shooting people. When I am carrying, I find myself constantly thinking about my weapon and the potential for using it rather than enjoying the day. When I’m at work I need to be focused on caring for people. I find it difficult to care much about someone I’m considering shooting.

8. I personally know or have met more than a few people (friends, relatives and patients) who have shot themselves accidentally or been shot accidentally by someone else. At least two-thirds of the gunshot wounds I have dealt with have been accidental. I have very little desire to shoot someone else. I have absolutely no desire to shoot myself or be shot by a coworker.

9. Carrying a gun gives me a sense of security that is likely at least partly false. Being armed might make me hesitate just a little bit less about going onto questionable scenes before law enforcement arrives. Singer Steve Earle makes this point nicely about his Colt revolver in his song “The Devil’s Right Hand”: “It’ll get you into trouble, but it can’t get you out.”

10. I think one of the best ways to stay safe when dealing with altered and/or violent patients is to simply avoid being seen as a threat. Public knowledge that we are armed or visibly carrying a firearm would take that little psychological advantage away from us.

Should we actually become armed or have the option of arming ourselves, it will create an interesting dilemma for those of us who prefer to remain unarmed. My decision would depend on the public’s awareness of the situation. If there was a story on the news or if my coworkers all started openly carrying firearms, I would feel obliged to do the same. I want to be an unarmed paramedic, not the unarmed paramedic. Bringing scissors to a gunfight is not a mistake I want to make. If people expect us to be armed, then we need to be armed. On the other hand, if we simply had an option to carry a concealed firearm, unknown to the public at large, I would feel much more comfortable remaining unarmed and letting my coworkers do the shooting.

Whatever dangers lurk out there for us, the fact remains that we are currently not expected to be armed, and thus any aggression directed toward us is almost automatically indefensible. If we arm ourselves, however, the line between savior and aggressor blurs, and we not only become much bigger targets but also subject to the same liability and burden of proof regarding lethal force faced by our counterparts in law enforcement. I don’t want to see a cell phone video of myself killing a person who turns out to be unarmed. I don’t want protestors at my door or riots occurring downtown because of my actions. I don’t want an ounce more liability than I already have. We already have enough to worry about, friends; we do not need this extra weight on our shoulders.

Whatever happens, I hope decisions about this issue will be carefully considered and weighed by the powers that be. This is not a subject to be taken lightly. The last thing we need is a misguided, hastily implemented firearm policy that ends up making our job even more dangerous than it already is.

Jody Marks, BS, RN, NRP, has been a paramedic for 14 years. He currently works as a registered nurse specializing in post-anesthesia care and is pursuing his nurse practitioner degree. He lives and works in Huntsville, Ala.