Perhaps the most direct link between popular culture and the Columbine tragedy begins with the movie Natural Born Killers, a tale about a couple that, to the thrill of the press, goes on a senseless murder spree. To an adult, the movie is over-the-top in its gore and rather blunt about its message: By sensationalizing violence, the American media encourage it, and that’s a bad thing. The killers certainly planned the event as a media spectacle, and even referred to the plan as “NBK.” Without the movie, the initials would have been different, but what else?

Cullen settles on what is indeed the most convincing explanation: The boys may have watched Natural Born Killers, but the bigger problem is that they were natural-born killers.

Harris was almost certainly a psychopath — he had a massive superiority complex, he hated authority, he lied pathologically, he simulated empathy perfectly without feeling it, and he was charming enough to talk his way out of just about any situation. He managed to plunge deep into a disturbing mindset without too many others catching on: Thanks to better medical care, humanity was no longer susceptible to natural selection, a situation that needed fixing; modern humans were “robots” going through the motions of existence; Hitler and the Nazis had the right idea; he could get things started by topping Timothy McVeigh’s body count.

Klebold had a different personality and a different problem, but he complemented Harris. Klebold was depressed, more suicidal than homicidal. He was typically reserved and shy, though he was prone to occasional outbursts of anger. He frequently wrote of killing himself, and until near the end he seemed to think of “NBK” as a fantasy. Harris, who dominated the relationship, seems to have brought the weaker, indifferent Klebold around.

When minors are this disturbed, it falls on two institutions to protect society from harm: parenthood and the government.

Cullen writes that the parents “remain a mystery” — they do few media interviews — but both killers came from intact two-parent households, and Cullen presents no indication of abuse or neglect. Harris’s father, a Marine, is depicted as a strict parent, but one willing to protect his son against consequences in the outside world — one of Eric’s friends’ moms saw the other side of the boy, but the elder Mr. Harris figured she was overreacting. Harris’s mother stayed at home until the boy was in middle school. The Klebolds come off as a rich couple who went to pains not to spoil their children (though in a different section, the author mentions that Dylan drove a BMW).

When Eric and Dylan were caught breaking into a van and stealing electrical equipment a year before the massacre — they enjoyed going on “missions” like these, sneaking out at night and damaging property — all four parents were furious, and both boys were grounded for a month. They were forbidden to see each other, and Harris lost his computer privileges. Harris’s father evaluated six candidates before choosing a therapist for Eric.

What’s more interesting is the government’s response: Eric and Dylan sought entry into the “Diversion” program, and both were accepted. Their three felonies could have cost them several years in prison and a fine, but instead, Harris and Klebold would meet with a counselor and perform community service. Harris passed with rave reviews. Klebold didn’t do nearly as well, letting his school grades and his attendance at the program’s meetings slip, but passed all the same.

Both boys were bright kids without criminal records, so this may not seem out of the ordinary. But Judy Brown — that concerned mother of one of Eric’s friends — had been in touch with the police repeatedly about Eric. She’d provided a print-out of Eric’s website, on which he made specific, violent threats, including against her son. The website also detailed the “missions” and described building explosives in a way that matched a pipe bomb that had been found near Eric’s house. A search warrant was drawn up around the time the boys started Diversion, but it was never executed, and those responsible for sorting out the van break-in never got wind of it.

There’s no telling what would have happened if Eric had gone to prison instead of going through Diversion and continuing at Columbine. There’s no known treatment for psychopathy, and he may well have come out with better bomb-making skills. But it’s clear that the police came into contact with a very real threat and did nothing about it. They covered up their knowledge after the fact.

If there’s one lesson to learn from Columbine, it’s perhaps that citizens and policymakers should not jump to conclusions based on anecdotes. This book shows how much work it can take simply to uncover the facts — not to mention figure out what steps could have prevented this particular crisis, and whether those same steps would do more good than harm in the country as a whole. Ten years later, public shootings have not ceased, and those questions are as important as ever.

 

— NR associate editor Robert VerBruggen edits the Phi Beta Cons blog.

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