Make America Primal Again: Guns, Tribalism, and the Politics of Fear[1]
Guns promote atavism. They pull us backwards—toward something primitive, something tooth-and-claw that should’ve been left behind on the savannah. For millions of years, evolution honed us to be suspicious of the Other. Is that rustle in the tall grass a lion or a member of a rival tribe? That evolutionary wiring made sense when every shadow could hide death. But we don’t live in the grasslands anymore. We have cities, laws, education, electric cars—hell, we have oat milk lattes and biodegradable dog poop bags.
Yet here we are, still acting like every person not exactly like us is a threat to be neutralized. It’s as if our cerebral cortex—the very part of us responsible for reason, compassion, and empathy—gets sidestepped every time someone cradles a Glock like it’s a goddamn security blanket. Guns, rather than being tools of protection, have become extensions of fear. They allow us to bypass thinking, to shortcut our way through empathy, and instead react with the basest of instincts: fight or flight (but mostly fight, let’s be honest. Stand yer ground!).
The hard-won gains of civilization—compromise, critical thinking, empathy, the ability to coexist with people who don’t look, worship, or vote like us—require patience, humility, and an unsexy amount of work. Guns make it too easy to abdicate all that. They shout that strength lies in dominance, not dialogue. That safety comes from suspicion, not understanding. That the person walking toward you might be a threat, so you better reach for your waistband instead of your better angels.
The tribalism and dominance in American gun culture are the same bedfellows snuggled up in the Trump regime’s sweaty rhetorical blanket. At its core, that movement didn’t just appeal to conservative values—it has actively weaponized fear, stoked grievance, and draws sharp, bloody lines between us and them. It isn’t about debate or discourse. It’s about elimination. If you’re not with us, you’re not just wrong—you’re dangerous. You’re fake news. You’re a groomer. You’re a criminal.
Look at the campaign against LGBTQ+ people. Under Trump—and even more aggressively in the Trump 2.0 GOP freakshow—we see not just policy rollbacks, but full-on existential erasure. “There’s no such thing as non-binary.” “Trans people are mentally ill.” “Drag queens are predators.” That’s not governance. That’s primal fear dressed up in red, white, and blue. It’s the tribal brain screaming: this is unfamiliar; it must be destroyed. It’s the same logic that once burned witches, that still burns bridges. And books.
And the criminalization of dissent? Classic alpha-male chest-thumping. From chanting “Lock her up!” to claiming anyone who challenges his authority is part of a “deep state,” Trump doesn’t just reject opposition—he frames it as treason. That’s not democracy. That’s a dominance hierarchy, like gorillas flinging feces and screaming at anyone who threatens the top banana. Guns fit perfectly into this worldview. They're not just tools—they’re symbols. Phallic little gods of control. You don’t negotiate with a threat; you neutralize it. Preferably while standing your ground and livestreaming it to your followers.
This is the atavism I’m talking about. Guns keep us in that lizard-brain loop of fear and aggression, and the Trump regime rode that reptilian wave all the way to the White House. It bypassed higher reasoning, empathy, nuance—all those pesky evolved human traits—and told people it was okay to hate, to fear, to dominate. That it was patriotic, even.
And look what it’s gotten us: a divided country, terrified children, banned books, and politicians who can’t spell “empathy,” let alone feel it.
We either choose the hard work of civilization, or we keep licking our fangs and calling it freedom.
We can do better. We have done better. But only when we remember that what separates us from the beasts isn’t our ability to kill at a distance. It’s our ability to imagine peace.
And right now, imagination’s losing.
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