It was a spirited discussion around the dinner table as my husband Norm, our nephew Jimmy and I tackled the thorny issue of Ontario’s law banning pit bulls.

None of us had any real statistics — we were only guessing at the number of pit bull attacks there have been. My husband remembers far more than I do, for example. And I think that dog owners make up a greater percentage of the general population than he assumes.

But as the discussion became more spirited — and Norm resorted to accusations of “dog lover” to make his point — it occurred to me that what we were really discussing was something far more elementary. It turns out we have very different views of the right of the individual versus those of the state.

I find the law banning pit bulls — and any dog that could be construed as a pit bull — a bad law. If a dog stands accused, it puts the onus on the dog owner to prove it is not a pit bull.

Granted, I am a dog lover, but I feel that any law that punishes the general population because of the actions of a few needs to be closely scrutinized. The underlying premise that a few are bad, therefore, all must be bad has historically had some very serious consequences for humankind.

Around the dinner table, I was having a hard time making my point to my more boisterous companions. When I went so far as to liken the pit bull ban to Canada’s actions during the Second World War, when Japanese Canadians were put into camps and their property confiscated, I was met by guffaws. I had gone too far — comparing dogs to people, after all. But the Japanese internment still seems to me an irrational act, when many good people were made to pay for actions in which they had no part.

That is an infringement on individual rights under the guise of protecting the state.

But that concept doesn’t seem to upset Norm and Jimmy to the same extent it does me.
Jimmy is Jamaican. Because of Jamaica’s place in the drug-smuggling hierarchy, he accepts that he will be searched more often than a white Canadian when he is travelling.
That’s just the way it is — the many pay for the actions of a few. What makes me indignant, he meets with pragmatism.

I guess I am afraid of what people in groups can do. Kim Shannon, in our story on page 34, refers to “group think,” a phenomenon in which people behave more outrageously in a group than they would individually.

Shannon was referring to stock markets. In my more serious moments, I think about school bullies, secret societies, the Ku Klux Klan, concentration camps — and the ability of people in groups to be more destructive and inhumane than individuals. I think about the ability of human beings to act irrationally when they distrust and fear what is different from themselves. Or when greed steps in and the many have something to gain from the destruction of the few.

Governments do make bad laws. And when that happens it is often because they follow “group think” rather than taking leadership on an issue. Is it too naive to think governments should lead, not follow?

Maybe I should just be grateful the state hasn’t banned Golden Retrievers because so many of them make a nuisance of themselves begging for treats from all they meet. Or middle-aged women from drinking wine because a few have imbibed too much and behaved outrageously.

But given the human race’s history, it seems we have to be ever vigilant against laws that make no sense. And an important part of our system is the responsibility to express dissent.

Tessa Wilmott, editor-in-chief