After a frightening break-in attempt at my home and a tragic murder-suicide in Virginia, this piece examines how current gun policies, enforcement gaps, and political bias intersect with public safety.

Last week my neighbor sent me security footage of an unknown man trying to get through my windows shortly after 4 AM. He even moved our trash can to climb up to another window, but the windows were locked and he never made it inside. Police have been notified and Nextdoor turned up a possible lead; the suspect, if it’s him, has a criminal record and was released on parole last month.

I keep a firearm locked near my bed and I was relieved to know it was there that night. The safe sits within arm’s reach, and the Second Amendment gave me a way to protect my family if someone had forced entry. That reality matters in a world where the system too often fails before we even reach the courthouse.

My gut reaction was simple and direct: politicians who push to strip law-abiding citizens of defensive options are asking families to rely on a system that routinely lets predators roam free. They’ll talk about “saving one life” while ignoring the men, women and children forced to face danger at home. Policy that removes means of self-protection without fixing failures in enforcement leaves ordinary people exposed.

The recent violence involving former Lt. Governor Justin Fairfax is a gut punch. Reports say Fairfax killed his wife, Cerina, then took his own life, and their teenage children survived physically but have been left as orphans. Coverage suggests Fairfax’s behavior worsened after a failed campaign and amid a contentious divorce; some say a delivery of paperwork set off the fatal sequence. That’s from The Washington Post, too.

— Brady | United Against Gun Violence (@bradybuzz)

Groups like Brady and March for Our Lives moved quickly to frame the tragedy as a failure of access controls and to push for more laws. They point out correctly that domestic violence plus firearms can be lethal, and that society should do more to stop that combination from ending lives. Still, those same groups and the lawmakers they work with often neglect whether new rules will actually be enforced or will merely burden law-abiding owners.

Today, we woke up to the devastating news of the shooting death of Cerina Fairfax by her estranged husband, reminding us that when domestic violence is combined with access to guns, it too often ends in irreversible tragedy. That this act of violence was carried out by someone who once held public office only underscores the painful truth that status and power do not mitigate harm or abuse.

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We cannot afford to treat cases of domestic violence shootings as private tragedies. They are preventable acts of violence that demand loud and urgent systemic intervention. This means strengthening firearm relinquishment laws for abusers and educating young people about how guns can turn everyday interactions into moments of incredible harm, where conflict escalates into lethal violence in an instant.

Ratcheting up laws sounds decisive, but lawmakers keep skipping a basic question: are the rules we already have being applied fairly and consistently? Time after time enforcement gaps show up in stories that should trouble anyone who cares about safety. When arrests or restrictions hinge on politics, parties, or public attention, the laws become theater instead of protection.

Look at recent incidents where enforcement collapsed into confusion and leniency. Authorities in a major city arrested people for illegal carry but released some suspects after they surrendered firearms, a move criticized by state leaders as a sign there are no consequences. In another state, a man with prior convictions for assault with a semiautomatic was released early and was later found with a new gun in his possession.

High-profile examples keep piling up: a rapper had felony gun charges dropped after an arrest in New York City, and the president pardoned his son in 2024, wiping away a conviction tied to a gun charge. Those moments feed a growing perception that politically connected people and favored constituencies get different treatment. When enforcement is selective, it does more harm than passing another statute.

Red flag laws and firearm relinquishment policies are promoted widely, and they can be useful tools when applied uniformly. But they rely on reporting, timely action and impartial application—three things that break down when officials protect allies or fear political backlash. If people close to troublemakers don’t report warning signs, or if authorities decline to act when the accused are politically connected, those laws are hollow.

We need honest policy debates that start with enforcement, accountability and equal treatment under the law. Crafting more regulations without fixing how rules are carried out only shifts risk onto ordinary people. Until those underlying problems change, pushing more laws will keep producing headlines and little real safety.