Guns in this country were always about sport.  If by always you mean in the last hundred and forty seven years.  Before that—and there was a “before that”—guns were about hunting.  About making your way in the wilds of the West—when Western Virginia was the West.  Hunting, then—and also, of course, war.  The war for Independence, the War of 1812, and then—that most terrible conflagration: the Civil War. 22,000 people, shot dead or wounded at Antietam.  At Gettysburg, 50,000 more.  People would line up, one line on one side of the field, one line on the other—thousands—more than 100 thousand sometimes— and just…fire.  Straight into each other.  It’s terrifying to think—like two firing squads face to face.  Unblinking.  

After the war, after 620,000 were felled by the gun, by sickness or captivity, 3.2 million soldiers were left.  And left with their guns.  The Union Army, with no place to store the firearms, made an obvious decision that would forever change the culture of America in unobvious ways: soldiers should take their guns home with them.  Just—keep them.  

And so they did.  Millions of guns, many newly-minted for the conflict, retired like the soldiers themselves—to little cottages and cabins in the woods—to towns budding like dew on the fresh-lain cross-ties criss-crossing the country.  Suddenly, nearly every home had a firearm.  A first for this nation—perhaps for any.  And the question was—if not for warring, what was a body to do with the thing?  

What do you do with a gun if you’re a Union Soldier?  In war or out, the answer was simple: Shoot it sideways.  Shoot it sloppy.  Union Soldiers were terrible shots—they had poor aim, poor poise—they couldn’t shoot their way out of a paper bag.  Guns at the time weren’t nearly as accurate, and gunpowder not nearly as reliable.  So, you might ask, who could blame them?  

Well, these men:

Pretty much all of the Union leadership blamed the soldiers for it.  After all, guns don’t shoot poorly, people do.  Right?  Faulty firing?  It must be the people at fault.  So two people proposed to do something about it.  Two Union Officers decided to change it.  They’d start a club—or better, an association—to encourage better shooting.  Make it recreational—make it fun.  There could be shooting ranges and shooting competitions—local, state—national.  Where ex-soldiers could go to learn, to practice, and to shoot…rifles. 

And so the The National Rifle Association was born.  It was about sport and recreation from the start.  And it still is.  According to Pew Research, 39 percent of gun owners today own their guns for sport or hunting.  That’s the primary reason for them owning it—not protection or personal safety.  But recreation.

These gun owners own guns for good reason: sports are fun. Shooting at stationary targets, shooting at clay pigeons, shooting at skeets at night, trap shooting—the sport is sporting and I’ve done it myself.  The problem: guns are dangerous.  And without good training, maintenance, or sound mental health services—dangerous guns become disastrous.  

Gun owners are more likely to die in suicide than in a gun accident.  They're more likely to die by suicide than almost any other cause.  8,000 sport and hunting owners kill themselves with their own firearms every single year.  The problem isn't sports, it's suicide.  So, if we want to save lives, we have to make gun ownership safer for gun owners.  

Here's how:  

Eliminate the perils of gun ownership without eliminating gun sports.  By turning gun ownership into a gun service.  Hear me out: All sorts of consumer goods that we used to think of as single products are now becoming services.  A service component makes the product fuller, easier, and—of course—more lucrative for companies. 

Take cell phones: When you buy a cellphone today, you have two choices: buy the phone outright, which is hundreds of dollars down and no support next year, or in two years, or three years—when that phone is old and slow.  When you'll need the support.  OR—or you can essentially join a cell-phone "subscription" service.  Where you pay a small monthly fee—just a few dollars, maybe 10 or 20 or 30: you get the phone, but you also get a guarantee that if you keep paying the fee every month, you can just get a new phone next year.  And another one the next, and the next, and the next.  You always get the best, and the best always stays the best: because you get maintenance and troubleshooting forever—you might even get some discount on your data plan.  

In the end, of course, you might end up paying more over your lifetime than if you had just bought that first phone for a few hundred dollars.  The cell phone companies lock you in as a customer—but as a customer you also lock in easy payment and easy ownership: you don't have to worry about maintenance, you don't have to worry about paying a ton for future models, and you might even save on things like minutes or data that you would have had to pay for anyway—even if you had bought the phone alone.  In effect—you get all of the enjoyment out of your product without all of the hassle.  Gone are the days of suffering through a phone with a broken screen.  Or a worn out speaker.  Or a stuck button.  You pay—not for a single phone, but for a great experience.  Every single time.  Without fail.  

Businesses in almost every industry are transitioning to the service and subscription model because it's easier for customers, it's immediately cheaper for customers (because you only pay a fraction of the price at any given time), it delivers a better product experience and makes steady revenue for the business.  Steady because payment is constant and customers are constantly engaged.  So what would guns as a service look like?  And—more importantly—how might it help reduce gun violence?  

Here's the idea: When you get a gun, you don’t just walk away with the gun—you get an entire experience.  Need to maintain your gun?  Of course you do.  That’s included.  Need to buy ammunition for your gun?  Of course you do.  That’s included.  Need a safe to safely store it?  Included.  Want a bit of training?  That’s included, too.  And when it comes time to upgrade to a better or more exciting gun—let that be included.  And imagine all of it—everything that makes a great experience—sewn together with a social component: a club or gun range that services your gun and serves you.  A place that encourages you to meet with other gun lovers and get the most value out of the experience.  

Does it sound expensive?  It doesn’t have to be.  

The average handgun costs around $500.  But that’s just the gun—not the ammunition and the maintenance and the fees for shooting at a shooting range.  And that’s just the starting price. When you take those lump-sum costs and the recurring fees and divide them over time, you can imagine a gun service that could very reasonably costs less than half the price of a cable subscription.  Just think about that: a service that lets you upgrade your gun as much as you upgrade your phone; one that includes everything you need to enjoy the product month after month, year after year.  Just a few dollars at a time, for a vastly better experience.  

I know what you’re thinking—that’s all well and good for gun owners: but how does a better gun experience save lives?  After all—that’s what we’re here for.  

This is how: 

Those who enjoy their guns as a service are guaranteed to have access to training—a vast improvement over those who just buy their guns outright.  But because everything around this service is designed to provide a better experience—the training is not just about gun safety.  Rather than the obligatory safety course, imagine a whole series of available trainings that help you build skills, explore new techniques, and new sports—at each moment helping you increase your mastery with the gun, and in each course integrating safety into the fabric of the curriculum.  This way, safety wouldn’t just be an annoying scare-tactic the way safe-driving courses are today; it would be integrated directly into training you could get excited about—so rather than sitting in a fluorescent room watching faded public service announcements, imagine yourself in an active training simulation that safely puts you in the middle of the action…almost a sport in itself, building skills and the confidence to handle your gun.  Safely. 

But it’s not only about safety training.  Making guns safer doesn’t just involve the gun owner—it involves the entire environment.  Those who enjoy their guns as a service are more likely to use them at the gun range, training, or sports facility associated with that service—meaning rather than enjoying their guns in their own backyard, these owners use them in a safe, social environment.  A place where someone could call for help if there’s an accident; where people handle their guns with respect out of respect for others; a place where safety isn’t just an afterthought—it’s a founding principle. 

And the fact that the environment is social adds yet another dimension of safety. Because those who enjoy social activities surrounding their guns surround themselves with friends.  And that’s no small thing.  Friends are one of the most powerful medicines we know of to fight depression.  Without friends or a sense of belonging—a gun owner can feel distant, alone—isolated.  Why does this matter?  Social isolation is one of the greatest predictors for suicide.  So, if we can make guns a more social product—we can literally stop the creep towards suicide before it starts.  

And for those who do see themselves sliding towards suicide, the service can offer free counseling to all subscribers.  Free counseling that specializes in depression and suicide prevention.  Free counseling—as well as a temporary gun repository service.  What’s that?  It’s an option for an individual who worries that they might hurt themselves—it gives them the ability to safely and temporarily remove the guns from their home.  The guns would be stored at their local gun range—and accessible whenever they felt better.  Making the sport and all of the social support that comes with it still available—even in that dire time.  But safely.  Safely accessible.  And accompanied by free counseling.  This isn’t a new idea: removing guns from the home during depression saves lives.  Some police jurisdictions across the country offer to safely store guns for free for just this purpose.  But the practice isn’t available widely—and too few gun owners, their friends or family know about it.  Let’s make it standard.  

With all of these benefits—from a safety, cost, and experience perspective—a gun service could really challenge the gun purchase model for customers.  Just think about it: 

Imagine you’re looking for a gun.  You have two options:  

1. Buy the gun outright. It costs $500 on day one. And you still don’t have any ammunition. So let’s add some ammunition costs on there. So day one—$500. And each time you visit a shooting range, that’s another $14 an hour (average price for for-profit indoor ranges in the National Range Survey). Then there’s safety training and maintenance costs. You’re looking at each time you use the gun a pretty hefty price.

2. Now, consider what would happen if you went the service route. No cost on day one. You get the gun—the ammunition—safety training, maintenance—and each month you pay just 30 dollars. Want to go to a shooting range? It doesn’t cost a penny more. How much more might you enjoy your gun if it didn’t cost a penny more to go? How much more might you take advantage of the training opportunities?

Which would you choose?  For the same gun?  To pay more money for less?  Or less money for—immediately and forever in the future—more?  

A service like this might be so appealing—forget about just those who buy a new gun each year.  Those who already own a gun are going to want to transition to a service model.  And why shouldn’t they?  There are all sorts of ways that a guns-as-a-service model could fold in existing gun owners:  

Gun owners could trade in their existing guns for a year or two’s worth of service fees.  Or they could pay a reduced service rate to use a gun that they already own but to access all of the other benefits.  Or some combination of the two.  

Either way, the service model could very easily attract a loyal audience of members.  If you’re a gun maker like Sturm Ruger, Smith & Wesson, Glock, or Remington—why not lock in your customers with a service offering like this?  And if you’re an upstart gun maker, why not use this opportunity to disrupt the entire market? 

What kind of impact might we see from a service like this?  Well, even if just half of those who own guns for sports and hunting transitioned to a service model: 

In the first year, we’d see 113 fewer accidental deaths.  2,248 fewer accidental injuries.  And 3,902 fewer suicide deaths.  That’s more than 4,000 lives saved. And the amount of revenue generated for the gun industry?  $5,253,534,720 dollars.  $5.3 billion dollars.  That’s twice as much as they’re making from these customers by the current model.  Thats $2.7 billion on the table, just waiting to be made.  And 4,000 lives being lost, just waiting to be saved with guns as a service.

But that’s only the beginning.  Because as soon as one service starts up and the industry sees how lucrative guns as a service can be, every manufacturer is going to launch a competing service.  

The lines of competition will be drawn against every metric—some will offer cheaper monthly fees.  Some more exciting gun selections.  And some better training opportunities.  

But here’s one part of the competitive landscape that should also emerge: safety.  

When a plane crashes, the stocks of airlines do, too.  And that makes sense.  Because it’s the airline that’s responsible for the safety of its passengers.  For operation, maintenance, and training.  But what about the plane manufacturer?  Well, it’s an interesting story.  When the crash is caused by mechanical failure, plane-makers suffer more in the stock market than airlines.  But when the crash is caused by terrorism or crime, it’s the airline that suffers.  Today, when there’s a suicide, it’s hard to blame it on mechanical failure.  Hard to blame the gunmaker.  There’s little about suicide prevention that they are directly responsible for today.  But that won’t be the case in a guns-as-a-service world. 

What, then, could become a major dimension of competitive advantage?  Safety ratings.  Imagine a world where gun service providers are rated on a 5-star scale.  The scale should be graded against the average suicide rate—so that a company that can prove it effectively helped prevent suicide and accidental death can gain a higher rating than its competitor.  This type of system could very quickly set up a competitive environment that could spiral towards ever-more-effective violence prevention.  

Customers could be attracted by a gun service with a five-star safety rating.  Why?  A few reasons:  

Guns are dangerous.  A safe service tells a customer that they’ll have the training they need to safely handle this dangerous weapon.  But since guns as a service are inherently social in nature, a high safety rating means that those standing next to you at the gun range are safe to be around.  You can be confident they’ll handle their guns with competence and respect.  And your loved ones can be comfortable knowing that you will have all of the training and support you need to safely engage in a fun but high-risk sport.

Think about the kinds of incentives this could bake into the system:  

• Guns as a Service providers would want to develop the best, most effective safety training. Training that measurably impacts accident rates.

• Providers would also want to foster the emotional connections and provide the psychological support necessary to measurably reduce suicide.

• Providers would find ways to install safety protocols that make their facilities the safest possible—without exception.

And—imagine this—they might stop and think about the customer’s fitness before selling them the service.  After all, selling guns to dangerous people will put their reputation in danger.  When your company’s brand extends to the company’s customers, you think a lot more about the kinds of customers you want to service. 

So we could actually see a kind of self-policing—for the first time.  Maybe you have to demonstrate mental fitness before buying a gun.  Maybe you have to go through a mandatory safety training.  Just as the military doesn’t accept every recruit, just as banks don’t accept every customer before a credit check, these service providers might institute background checks to protect their safety scores.  And by extension—protect their customers and the public at large.  

Guns as a service makes sense.  From a customer perspective.  From a business perspective.  And—most importantly—from a public perspective.  It won’t be easy.  But it could revolutionize the industry.  Save 80,000 lives in its first 10 years…and you know what?  It could do it in a way that actually excites gun owners.  Without a single page of legislation.  

Who will be the first to make it happen?