Americans agree more on mass shootings than politics makes it seem

Minneapolis is grieving. 

“Don’t just say this is about thoughts and prayers right now — these kids were literally praying,” Mayor Jacob Frey said after two children were killed and 17 others injured during Mass at Annunciation Catholic School. 

In the hours after such attacks, the public hears familiar refrains. Democrats fault access to firearms; Republicans fault the people who pull the trigger. 

For example, Sen. Amy Klobuchar (D-Minn.) called for a national ban on assault-style weapons. U.S. Secretary of Homeland Security and former Republican governor of South Carolina, Kristi Noem, called the school shooter a “deranged monster.” 

The pattern suggests a country split into irreconcilable camps — one focused on systems, the other on individuals.

Our new survey of 10,000 U.S. adults (fielded in January 2024) tells a more complicated story. 

When asked to rank the leading causes of mass shootings from a list of 14 explanations, Americans converged on a common top tier: mental illness, access to guns, hate/bias, traumatic childhoods and what respondents called “evil personality.” 

Democrats were more likely to prioritize access; Republicans emphasized individual pathology. But the same five explanations dominated, just in different orders. 

In other words, outrage is partisan, but underlying beliefs overlap. That overlap also fits what research shows about these offenders. 

The Violence Project database, a half-century study of public mass shooters, finds that attacks typically represent the end of a long pathway where personal crises, suicidality and grievance meet easy access to firearms, often amid media-fueled clustering after prior attacks. 

Many perpetrators telegraph intent (“leakage”) or otherwise exhibit identifiable warning signs, which is why prevention models emphasize earlier reporting and intervention. 

Complex violence rarely has a single cause; Americans seem to sense that when they’re given space to think beyond talking points.

If causes are multifactorial, policy can be, too. There are two areas where that shared ground can translate into action.

First, behavioral threat assessment, done right. Schools, workplaces and community settings increasingly use multidisciplinary teams to identify and help people in crisis before violence occurs. 

This isn’t “zero tolerance” policing by another name; the evidence base emphasizes support, not punishment, with structured tools, equity checks and documented reductions in exclusions and arrests when implemented well. 

The U.S. Secret Service’s National Threat Assessment Center and SchoolSafety.gov publish free, practical guidance that school districts already use. 

Investing in high-quality teams is something both gun-rights advocates and gun-violence-prevention groups can back, because it targets behavior before a trigger is ever pulled.

Second, keeping firearms secure during periods of risk. Even many gun owners agree that when someone is in crisis, guns should be out of reach temporarily. 

That’s the premise of Extreme Risk Protection Orders (“red-flag” laws), which allow a court to remove firearms for a defined period when there’s credible evidence of danger. Presently, 21 states have enacted these laws (plus D.C.), including Minnesota. 

In parallel, secure storage — storing firearms unloaded, locked and separate from ammunition — reduces theft, unintentional injury and suicidality, especially among youth. 

Public health and medical organizations, as well as federal agencies, have urged wider adoption; several states now support the distribution of safe-storage devices and education. 

These measures don’t require a sweeping national consensus on every gun policy; they ask only that we agree on preventing access at the worst possible moment.

Why does public opinion matter here? Because perceptions drive policy. If lawmakers only hear the loudest partisan voices, they’ll write one-sided bills that stall — or pass but miss the real problem. 

Our data suggest a better path: Start where Americans already agree. 

When voters recognize multiple, interacting causes (mental health, access, bias-driven motives and life-course adversity), they create political room for layered, evidence-based responses that respect individual responsibility and social context.

None of this minimizes disagreement over, say, an assault-weapons ban. Reasonable people will continue to differ. 

But we shouldn’t let that single question crowd out practical steps that reduce risk now: strengthen threat-assessment capacity, normalize reporting, make it easy to secure firearms and use time-limited Extreme Risk Protection Orders when someone is spiraling. 

Those measures neither demonize millions of lawful gun owners nor ignore the central fact that guns dramatically raise the lethality of a crisis.

Bridging the gap between rhetoric and public understanding won’t be easy. It is, however, possible and necessary. 

The research record, and the public’s own instincts, point toward a strategy that tackles multiple risk factors at once. That is how we honor the complexity of the problem and, more importantly, the lives already lost.

James Densley, Ph.D., is a professor of Criminology and Criminal Justice at Metropolitan State University and co-founder of the Violence Prevention Project Research Center at Hamline University, both based in St. Paul, Minnesota. 

David Pyrooz, Ph.D., is a professor in the Department of Sociology at the University of Colorado Boulder. 

Jillian Peterson, Ph.D., is a professor of Criminology and Criminal Justice and the executive director of the Violence Prevention Project Research Center at Hamline University.