Break My Fall (Falling, #2)

Professor Quinn surveys the classroom, his expression blank even as his gaze lands on us, then he moves to his podium and opens a well-oiled leather folio. The kind of folio that looks like old money without even trying. "Your assigned readings from this lesson argued that violence was declining around the world. Despite war in the Middle East, various conflicts in Africa, the rise of gang violence in Mexico, just to name a few, the author argued that violence is indeed declining. Do you buy his argument?"

I sit there, studying my pen and the blank sheet of notebook paper in front of me. Half the class has their laptops open to a game or to the latest social media site. I'm a little old-fashioned, I guess.

"Mr. Douglas, what do you think?"

I buy myself a moment by breathing deeply, holding it until my lungs burn, and releasing it. "I don't buy it. His argument doesn't hold up to even the lightest inspection."

Quinn motions toward me with his open palm, his thumb cradling the presentation remote. "And why don't you buy it? We haven't had a major world conflict since the end of World War II."

I flick the end of my pen off and back on again but Abby interrupts. "True, sir, but he's arguing that violence across the board has decreased. Pointing to the lack of a major global conflict suggests that the level of state-sponsored violence may have declined, but it does not suggest that violence overall has decreased."

I can feel everyone's eyes on us as Quinn digests her answer. Then he nods once. "Very good, Ms. Hilliard. Does anyone want to argue against this?"

Of course, Parker's hand goes up. "Sir, I don't think you can argue that violence isn't declining. We see an overall decline in violent arrests in the United States. The countries of the old Western Europe have some of the lowest levels of violence in the world. And even in places that are modernizing, you're seeing the tide turn against violence. India, for example, is finally starting to protect women and girls from violence."

Quinn nods again. "Fair enough. What is leading this trend?"

"Secularization," Abby offers. "Places that see decreased religious intensity typically see a corresponding drop in violence."

"Right, Ms. Hilliard. So if secularization is leading to reduced violence—Yes, Mr. Douglas?"

"Sir, I don't think we can accept that secularization is leading to reduced violence because I don't believe we're actually seeing a reduction in violence. The author bracketed the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, basically pulling them out of his sample to make his argument. The end of the Cold War has made the world less safe, not more."

"Why do you say that, Mr. Douglas?" Quinn sounds interested, not offended, which I'm taking as a good thing.

Except that now I have to keep going. And sooner or later, this conversation will derail into something personal. Something that pushes at the edges of my control. Guess I should have quit while I was ahead.



Abby



Josh is engaged, and it is a sight to behold. Fired up and participating in the discussion in a way that's not threatening to Professor Quinn. Which is good. Very good.

The tension in him from that first class isn’t there, or if it is, he’s transformed it into something else. Something…he can use.

"The war in Iraq. The fall of the Iraqi government. The collapse of Syria. We don't even know the full weight of the casualties from these conflicts," Josh says. "But I can also tell you that violence has definitely not decreased. The fall of Saddam allowed old scores to be settled, and believe me, they were settled. Violently. The author doesn't get to throw the last fifteen years or so out because they don't support his argument."

"So your argument is that the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are evidence of more violence, not less; is that correct?" Professor Quinn remarks.

"Yes, sir."

Parker's hand shoots up. "These are religious conflicts," she says. "If we continue to advance education initiatives around the world, we can continue the gains that the introduction of reason has had on the advancement of civilization." She shifts and looks like she's enjoying herself tremendously.

I raise my hand. "There's no evidence that religion is actually on the decline. It's growing rapidly even in places where it’s supposedly gasped its last. In Europe, more people are identifying as religious—just not Christian. In South America, the fastest growing religion is Pentecostal. And religious people have more babies, so even if we accept the premise that religion is declining in the current generation, there's no guarantee that it will continue to decline once the children of religious individuals grow up and take their place in the adult world."

Quinn holds up both hands. "Okay, so clearly we have some impassioned opinions on each side. One side suggests that violence is declining. The other says that it's an illusion. So why does it matter?"

It's a simple question, but beside me, Josh tenses.

"What?" I whisper.

He shakes his head, looking down at his hands. His knuckles are white on the pencil.

"War," he says softly.

Quinn looks up at him. "A little louder, Mr. Douglas?"

"War. If violence is actually declining, it takes away the need for war. It makes war unnecessary."

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