Is it Fair to Preemptively Assess Threats Due to Student Expression?

Attacks on schools and other vulnerable public venues might not be happening more often – but they’re definitely drawing a bigger share of public attention. Whether it’s through media saturation, social media amplification, or our collective fear, the presence of violence in public consciousness has become hard to ignore.

At time of writing, another deadly mass shooting had just unfolded in Parkland, Florida. The motives behind these attacks are all over the place – ranging from personal vendettas to mental health struggles to ideological extremism. Still, most of them seem to have one thing in common: the perpetrator feels powerless.

Another heartbreaking similarity is the trail of missed warning signs. In so many cases, we’re left wondering why the red flags weren’t enough. Why didn’t authorities act? Why didn’t school administrators step in? Why didn’t peers say something? It’s tempting to assume incompetence or indifference, but the reality may be more complicated. At its core, our society operates on the principle of innocent until proven guilty – and that standard makes preemptive intervention extremely tricky.

Now let’s put adult threats aside for a moment. What happens if we start investigating every edgy piece of writing, every vaguely threatening comment, every social misstep from teenagers? Beyond the sheer logistical impossibility, there’s a deeper risk: in trying to prevent violence, we might strip away one of the last outlets for a teen in crisis – self-expression.

Those expressions aren’t always comfortable, popular, or even ethical. Sometimes they’re dark, inappropriate, or disturbing. Still, without them, we begin to erode the foundations of a society built on personal freedom.

Take this real-life example from an undisclosed northwestern university, cited in Freedom of Speech vs. Student Safety: A Case Study on Teaching Communication in the Post-Virginia-Tech World. During the final minutes of class, one student made a shocking comment:

“I think that the homeless should be shot and ground up for dog food because, after all, they are useless anyway.” (Kane, 1986)

Understandably, this upset several classmates. The adjunct instructor was torn. Ignore the comment and risk minimizing the distress of the class – or overreact and possibly traumatize the student who made it. There was no direct threat, no plan of action, just a horrific opinion. What’s the right call?

In the end, the situation was defused without official disciplinary measures. A friend of the course director – who was a psychologist – offered advice. The student was gently informed about the broader impact of his words and, after some reflection, apologized to the class.

It worked out peacefully, this time. Of course, not all scenarios will resolve so neatly. Still, most can. And that leads to the hard question: would it have been fair to treat that student as a threat? What would he have learned from a more aggressive response?

There’s no one-size-fits-all answer. Yet it’s worth asking. Because while student safety is paramount, the way we preserve that safety matters. Preemptively labeling expression as threat might reduce risk – but it also risks flattening nuance, silencing those who already feel unheard, and undermining the very freedoms we claim to protect.

References

Kane, P. E. (1986). The New World Information Order and Freedom of Communication: The Communication Case for the New World Information Order. Free Speech Yearbook, 25(1), 69–69. https://doi.org/10.1080/08997225.1986.10556064