I see your logic, but I think you’re over thinking it a bit.

If a loner tries to hold up a bank with a pistol and a sack, they’re unlikely to succeed but they’re still committing a bank robbery. Without a conspiracy/organized crime your bank robbery is unlikely to succeed but that’s still what you’re doing.

The case is similar here. A single person trying to commit a suicide attack can still be a terrorist, they’re just a lot less threatening than a movement. As a result, we shouldn’t focus anti-terrorism policy against them any more than the FBI should worry about solo bank robbers, but that doesn’t require fiddling with the definition. There are exceptions of course, the dead suspect in the anthrax bomber was fairly successful is his own right but that’s because he had access to extraordinary resources.

In the larger sense, we should devalue terrorism. Our reaction gives it power. Counting low end largely failed attempts as terrorism takes away some of the mystique of the term and works towards reducing the expected benefits of future terrorist acts. Stiff upper lip and all that.

The points raised are valid but mainly if applied to external terrorism – the kind we talk about most in this country. But what happened in Austin was an example of homegrown terrorism – the kind that Europe is becoming so familiar with – the only difference is that while most of theirs is based in religious extremism, ours often comes from the far right- or far left-wings of our own political culture. And it very often takes place through solo acts, or acts led by the unwitting but willing based on the power and charsima of one person.
Although the logic of the Austin pilot mirrors closely to the anarchist terrorism of the 70s (very closely, actually – spread violence and fear so the government responds violently so that you generate of populist backlash against the government’s repressive use of power), there is a precedent to his methodology in attacking the government for a perceived slight that is much more recent and does not engender anything close to the current debate on definitions and semantics.
Although it takes the argument a step further to make the point, I’m forced to ask Jason: Do you think Timothy McVeigh was a terrorist?

Here’s the deal from the way I understand it. There are both state and federal laws which define acts of terrorism.

Rather than going by how we “feel” shouldn’t someone go by what the law states?

For instance, Lee Malvo and Muhammad in VA were convicted on terrorism charges. They didn’t have any sort of Al-Qaeda connections as far as I know. I don’t believe they were interrogated by CIA interrogators either. But, what they were charged and convicted of terrorism charges, among other things.

gregsanders,
I think you’re missing the point. I’m saying terrorism by definition requires the use of terror. I didn’t say it requires a group or organization — I only suggested that having an organization, etc, makes it easier to effect terror. If the single actor can pull off sustained terror (intimidation or coercion through threat of violence), then I think the single actor can be a terrorist.

rustnroses,
Ackerman also brought up McVeigh with me, in our twitter debate. It’s a good question. I’d say (a) McVeigh had ties to right-wing groups, he worked with others in a conspiracy network to pull off the attack, etc. — so it’s debatable whether he was truly a “solo” actor like the Austin pilot. But also (b) it’s possible that a solo act that is on a grand scale, like blowing up a building, might be “terrorism” — if it invokes or instills terror. Terror is the key to terrorism. That’s my great, innovative contribution to the debate here.

Bottom line: I’m not saying a single actor cannot be a terrorist. I’m saying, to have terrorism you have to have terror, and the likelihood of creating terror from a single act by a single actor is pretty low. And in this case (the Austin suicide pilot), I don’t think it rises to the level of terrorism — UNLESS the right-wing support for the act morphs it into terrorism, ex post.

The problem is that if the Ft. Hood attack is terrorism, this definitely is as well. The right pilloried anyone who said Ft. Hood might be the result of mental derangement, but happily linked to the administration’s remark that they did not consider this attack terrorism.

You can argue for a definition of terrorism that is restricted to terrorist organizations and not lone gunmen, but that’s not the definition that the right’s demanded that we use lest we turn soft on terror.

@mikeFromArlington – The younger sniper claimed that the attacks were religiously motivated in court, but he was also clearly nuts and not ordered to attack by Al Qaeda. Which brings up an interesting point — the same people who say there were no domestic terror attacks between 9/11 and 1/2010 demand to call Ft. Hood terrorism, but it’s more or less identical to the DC snipers as far as deranged motives go… you could argue that the sniper incident is more clearly terrorism because it involved coordination.

Also, by your definition, would Eric Rudolph still be a terrorist if he had stopped after his first bombing and gone on with his life feeling content to have only bombed once?

I understand your point regarding terror/terrorism so some of my counterpoint probably comes down to a slight difference in definition – or possibly the distinction between terrorism and terrorist tactics.

This comes into play a great deal in comparisons of anarchist terrorism movements and guerrilla political violence. The similarity rests in the homegrown nature of both – they foment rage against and attack the system which claims authority over them. But their are two major differences 1) Terrorism is almost exclusively directed at (or at least unconcerned with) causing civilian casualties and 2) As you say, terrorism is justification of itself – the desire to cause fear – it has no political end in mind. (By this same argument, I would state that the bombing of the USS Cole was not terrorism, but an unjust act of war/violence/force)

Guerrilla tactics and terrorist tactics can often mirror each other, but the former includes political insurgents attempting to change the political system (and thus has a political goal), terrorists are looking to dismantle the system or for vengeance against the system.

So, when you talk about the Austin pilot or McVeigh (or the Weathermen, or the Mansons, or etc…) you are talking about violence directed toward civilians in order to beget further violence to eventually break the system.

I understand your argument regarding the limits of a solo act, but what would have happened if the Austin pilot had succeeded in killing a large number of people in that building? Wouldn’t the possibility of further ‘crazies’ targeting federal buildings have caused a greater ripple of fear through our civil service? – almost because it was just one man with a plane…one man who could have been anyone.

I would advocate that the points you raise over the limited effect of this attack on the fear response in the civilian population are not valid, not because he wasn’t a terrorist, but because he wasn’t a successful one.

The act may have failed to take lives, but the tactics and intent are absolutely in line with those whom we label and prosecute as terrorists.

AlchemyToday,
Not sure I agree. I think it’s possible to tie Ft Hood gunman to broader ‘movement’ of radical Islam. That is, the terror people feel (rightly or wrongly) in response to radical Islamic groups like AQ is exacerbated by the Ft Hood shooting — people can easily see that act as connected to a bigger movement, and can therefore justifiably consider the act “terrorism.”

This same reasoning only works for the Austin pilot if he becomes connected to a bigger movement — such as the Tea Partiers, if they adopt him in large enough numbers, or in the eyes of the public. So long as he appears to be on his own, a lone crazy, it’s really hard to call him a terrorist. (As I see it.)

mikefromArlington,
I don’t think the statutory definitions are that useful, except in court of course. Arguably the DC snipers were “terrorists” because the violence or threat of future violence was ongoing for some time (until they were caught). This doesn’t contradict anything I’ve said about the Austin pilot. But I can’t remember whether the snipers had any political agenda — if not, then arguably they were not “terrorists,” despite the ongoing threat of future violence, if political motivation is important to our definition.

rustnroses,
I agree intent is important here. I’ll say this: the Austin pilot expressed the intent that his act would “wake up” people, spur them to act themselves, etc. Again, if enough whackos continue to express support and approval, then I think it’s fair to start characterizing this as an act of terrorism, ex post, because the threat of future violence becomes more and more palpable.

But again, thinking about this from the perspective of anti-terrorism policy is useful. If lone actors are terrorists, how do we possibly prevent those lone acts?

…doesn’t that mean that any crazy who shoots up a McDonald’s is suddenly a “terrorist,” if he writes a note blaming the breakup of his marriage on consumer capitalism? Do we really want to say that?

Yes and yes. Because this is what the word ‘terrorism’ has always meant; if there’s any common denominator to liberal objections to the use of the word, it is opposition to the tendentious and continual re-valuing of the term with every new event. Terrorism is a little thing, a pathetic act of those whose personal privilege fails to meet their sense of entitlement so starkly that either their expectations were based on mental illness or their failures drove them insane (or both). The problem is not people making terrorism no big deal–suicide unaccompanied takes enough lives to be a big deal–the problem is people aggrandizing terrorism.

English has this charming quality of not trying a word to a permanent meaning, but in a serious debate(and we’ve been debating terrorism continually for many years now) whatever meaning a word has at the beginning it must retain throughout or the debate itself has no meaning. And while meaningless debate is both a winning campaign strategy and a national pastime, if you have pretensions of being a professional student of the language you should hold yourself to a higher standard.

Clarification: when I said “lone actors” I meant lone actors executing a single act. Certainly a lone actor carrying out multiple acts over time can be a terrorist, as this can instill terror (threat of future violence).

Here’s the deal from the way I understand it. There are both state and federal laws which define acts of terrorism.

Rather than going by how we “feel” shouldn’t someone go by what the law states?

For instance, Lee Malvo and Muhammad in VA were convicted on terrorism charges. They didn’t have any sort of Al-Qaeda connections as far as I know. I don’t believe they were interrogated by CIA interrogators either. But, what they were charged and convicted of terrorism charges, among other things.

It comes down to skin color.

White skin = valid motive = “frustrated citizen” (per Scott Brown).
Dark skin = no valid motive = waterboard the guy (per Scott Brown).

Endymion,
Not sure I understand what you’re accusing me of. It seems you’re saying that I’m changing the definition of “terrorism” from what it meant “at the beginning of the debate.” What did it mean at the beginning of the debate? And when was that?

Terrorism has existed as a concept for a couple centuries, beginning with the Reign of Terror — that is, originally, terrorism was associated with actions of/by the State against its citizens. Since that time, conceptions and definitions of terrorism have multiplied and morphed through time. But you’re dead wrong to claim that terrorism has “always meant” the guy shooting up the McDonald’s because his marriage ended. I’m not sure it’s ever meant that, to anyone.

I’m simply trying to articulate what I think we mean, or ought to mean, when we talk about terrorism today. Weird that you’re condescendingly telling me to hold myself to a “higher standard” of adhering to some alleged original definition of terrorism that you don’t even get right yourself….

The same way that we go after networks because (and here is where I think you and I very much agree) this kind of vengeful rage usually comes from a sense of victimization. They believe such acts are justified because they are being oppressed. It’s very individual, but it engenders in people a desire for others to agree to our rationale and justification.

A significant number of the ‘potential’ terrorist that the FBI has arrested and prosecuted were identified not because we went after them, but because sting operations were set up so that they would come try to find like-minded individuals – and the FBI undercovers provided that confirmation in order to gather enough evidence to make an arrest.

This circles back to the danger you point out with the reaction by some of the teabaggers. This public encouragement of revenge violence against your own countrymen means that those in search of validation need not go out and look for it…just turn on your computer or TV. (Please note, I’m not saying all Tea Partiers are potential terrorists – I’m saying that some of their actions and statements could be used as legitimation and justification for someone with mental instability who is looking for it)

How we define violence comes down to intent – murder one vs manslaughter vs self-defense – stealing bread to eat vs stealing to feed a drug habit vs stealing for riches (or just for the fun of it). The target and intent of mass homicide is no different. How do we prevent it? In the end, we recognize that violence is an unfortunate part of our society, support our law enforcement infrastructure, and hope for the best.

“I think it’s possible to tie Ft Hood gunman to broader ‘movement’ of radical Islam.”

How are his alleged conversations with an allegedly radical Imam fundamentally different from Stack’s involvement with anti-tax groups as detailed in his manifesto? How are 9/11 victims any more terrified of the Ft. Hood attack than OKC victims flipping on the TV to see a scene that looks almost identical?

Would Stack have ended up with that same view point if not for a history of radical anti-government, anti-tax movements in the United States that have sporadically employed terrorism? I don’t think he’d come up with that rhetoric on his own, and might not have even ended up at that point financially if he weren’t influenced by anti-government conspiracy cranks.

Frankly, to the extent that I’m worried about any terrorist attack, I think it’s more likely that an anti-government attack will happen anywhere near me than anything sponsored by Al Qaeda.

On an unrelated note, it’s odd how often domestic terrorism is committed by pairs of people. Nichols/McVeigh, DC snipers, Columbine massacre… others maybe.

Even if you insist on the “political intent” definition of terrorism, a suicide attacker could be just “going through the motions” of terrorism in what’s actually just an ordinary murder-suicide. A person wanting to off themselves out of frustration and undirected rage might come up with some political pretext to justify this act to themselves–to become a hero rather than just a pathetic wacko.

But Prof. Steed gets right at the core of the issue. Whether this fits some abstract logical definition of “terrorism” is a distinction interesting only to amateur linguists. What really matters is how we should respond to particular acts? Which acts require a response to prevent future attacks, and which acts can be dismissed as past tragedies?

Do people seriously want an anti-terrorism response to this attack? Do they really think that would make future attacks less likely?

There is, though, one way a single-act wacko can actually have a seriously chilling terrorist effect. A targeted assassination, like that of George Tiller, can be horribly effective. A lone wacko can only kill a small percentage of Americans, but can kill a large percentage of a select group of Americans, like late-term abortion doctors. In cases like that, it really does only take one to send a message.

By that definition, though, wouldn’t Joseph Stack’s domestic dispute, which drove his daughter and wife from the home, and his subsequent burning-down of the family home, be considered multiple acts? Or is the number of terrorized people part of this new parsing?

Thank you for contributing here; I think you are wrong in this and other respects, Professor, as does Prof Louis Klaveras at Huffington Post, but Spencer is right to provide a forum here for the debate.

whatever else, it was a fine final sentence!

Of course the definition of terorrism-the-once-legitimate-system-of-French-government is different from the definition of terrorism-the-criminal-act. The two terms are cognates, homonyms, etc.; but they are no more the same word than the verb ‘to water‘ is the noun ‘water‘. I would have gone into the full etymology of the word but a)it would have been an obfuscatory tangent distracting from my actual point, and b) I’ve been getting a lot of insulting replies lately from other commenters who feel my vocabulary is risible(I’m sure you understand).
At the end of the Clinton administration, ‘terrorism’ was widely understood in America to be a crime of violence(targeted destruction) with the goal of assaulting the emotional stability of those outside the immediate target area of the violence, or more technically as the application of asymmetric warfare tactics to civilian targets as an earned media strategy. There was also a noticeable lack of a racist connotation in America because for more than a generation news coverage of terrorism had featured Northern Ireland related stories, as well as Cold War revolutionary groups and post-Cold War ethnic revanchist factions from all over the world, in addition to the anti-Western(and anti-Israeli) Muslim Fundamentalist groups that dominate the news today. Globally, terrorism was also distinguished by the absence of a profit motive; basal American culture places essentially no distinction between non-profits and political groups, even though it’s crazy to lump them all together. There was also the expectation (at least among Americans) that explosions would be involved, but it was not a limiting factor; terrorism could have happened with out anything blowing up, it just hardly ever seemed to.
These attitudes and distinctions are perhaps best preserved in the popular American blockbuster action flicks of the late 80s and 90s. For example, the movie Die Hard features explicit discussion of the nature of the villains: a criminal gang (German nationals) masquerades as terrorists until it is revealed that their real goal is to steal money and profit personally at which point they cease to be terrorists; for each character learning of the gang’s true goal is the factor that transforms their understanding of the villains as terrorists into non-terrorists.
Starting in September of 2001(and ongoing today), when the emotional equilibrium of the average American was extensively damaged making their perceptions of history reality and memory malleable, there was an uncoordinated but en masse effort by conservatives in government and the media to change the understood meaning of terrorism in order to justify various abuses. This was by no means the only attempt at refining American perceptions to better suit a neo-con agenda(see Social Security Crisis), but it was certainly among the most successful.
I apologize for assuming it was obvious I was placing the start of the terrorism debate in late 2001; it was perhaps malicious of me to expect you were someone for whom 9/11 changed everything. Nor should I have been so reckless in my imprecise use of ‘always,’ I was marking the relevant beginning of ‘always’ as a point in the American cultural zeitgeist rather than a precise point in time so being vague seemed appropriately succinct.
Regarding your ‘McDonald’s shooter’ tangent, I wasn’t addressing that scenario in my comment, but I will briefly now. A marriage ending is not a motive; it is a reason for losing your mind but it is not a motive for a specific act. If the now crazy man shoots up any place to draw attention to himself, then just like the asshole who torched the Temple of Aphrodite in Ephesos, he is a terrorist, but a lame selfish one that won’t really warp the course of history much, and even if people talk about him after he’s gone they’ll try to denigrate him. If he accompanies his violence with information about men’s-rights groups and issues, he’s a terrorist, and one that will likely inspire others making him moderately impactful, and likewise if he drops manifestos on the evils of factory meat. If he’s working with an organized group that is prepared to publicize his act and use it to recruit, he’s a terrorist, and one that will be made into someone’s hero for sure. The only time he’s not a terrorist is the most common scenario: he goes in to rob the place (or worse, maybe but maybe not rob) and fucks up royally; then, even if he’s dressed in political bullshit and gets reinvented by amateur revisionist historians as a fucking folk hero, he’s not a terrorist.
I suspect that as a child this was essentially your understanding of the word ‘terrorism,’ but if not then that simply indicates you were not representative of the general population (which is not necessarily a bad thing, I like to think I wasn’t either)

The problem I have with this critique is that it implies that the problem is the threat of attacks is the purpose of terrorism. I’m not so sure that this is at all what is intended by the people who are commonly held as the actors involved in terrorism. It seems like asymmetric warfare against a political force is the purpose they intend. More to the point, the reality is that terrorism is quite rarely posing an existential threat to anyone (who wasn’t at the scene of the attack itself) or even to their way of life, at least in a Western country like the United States. If “fear of future attacks” is the preferred definition in order not to cheapen the word/crime of terrorism, then there are probably more criminal actions that would fulfill this definition with far more immediacy for the average person, such as property theft, murder, rape, etc, which will quite reasonably inspire fear of future attacks in people who have suffered such criminal violence upon themselves or others in their presence. Those attacks to our collective conscience in the form of normal violent crime are far more invasive to the individuals involved, far more frequent, inflict far more damage, and create all sorts of mass individual action (such as entire security industries based on fear of crime or the demand for self-defence armament), and yet are not regarded as terrorism by the general populace. Personally, I would happily cheapen the crime of terrorism by comparing it to other simple violent crimes, even when its scope and effect are substantial and horrific rather than to qualify and sanction such actions as justified asymmetric warfare. I doubt we as a country are at that place.

The next problem is his counterexample that some guy who goes off and shoots people at McDonald’s isn’t attacking a political institution like the IRS, a direct bureaucratic wing of the government, in other words they’re not making a political statement. Capitalism is basically a cultural or moral institution, almost zeitgeist effect, and doesn’t have political faces to it that can be attacked (it’s sort of like the internet with no/few centralized monuments to its power and effect). If McDonald’s was suddenly in a visible way engaged in the political structure of this country, it might make some sense to say that an act like that would constitute terrorism (under the assumption that the suicide screed was an attack on consumer capitalism). As I understand similar acts, such as the DC sniper, it wasn’t anything like consumer culture that spawned them. We can safely classify it as terrorism when people shoot at random passer-bys on the street, because of the paralysis that creates. It’s very possible that this event does not create much stirring and fear, in the same way that a random shooting at McDonald’s tends not to cause national panic. But at that point it becomes of question of “why not”? Do “we” suddenly not care when the taxman gets blown up or someone tries to do so? Do “we” only care if the person who does it shouts in Arabic some common Islamic phrase as they do so? Do “we” only care when the act kills large numbers of people and dramatically shocks our conscience with images of destruction and death? Or, under some better circumstance, do we understand this as a rational actor with an irrational mind and worldview, motivated to unique circumstance to express rage and disaffection within a murderous act of suicide while trying to take some others out with himself in order to make a political statement in the most violent way imaginable. I’m not sure that it’s clear yet what reaction the public has taken other than it does not appear to want to classify this as a terrorist incident and is collectively engaging in many circumlocutions to justify this decision. Perhaps that decision is correct and we should acknowledge this possibility but I’m also rather skeptical of the justifications being trotted out so far to frame this as unique and distinct from other former acts and campaigns of aggression against the public and its institutions.

The implication however that this isn’t terrorism, because it somehow would not imply future attacks of a similar nature against government symbols of authority ala Oklahoma City, is relying largely on the idea that the ideas and violent motivations to anti-authoritarianism are somehow unique to the lone wolf actor involved and would not likely be repeated. They are not unique and they have recurred in our (recent) history. The issue is really to examine the underlying motivations of an act like this. We can probably safely assume this was a lone crank yes, and it would be fruitless to design a security state that would defend us against lone cranks. But it does us no credit to assume that his ranting criticisms have not or would not inspire others to act violently simply because we, as good and safely rational people, don’t share in his views. Obviously some people do. The same applies to al Qaeda and other terrorist cells. We too often can dismissively view their ideological or cosmological worldview as out of step with reality and ignore that for a sufficient number of people it clearly is not, otherwise they would have no base of support to continue their various operations. The question must be if/how can we limit the numbers of people who share in it and who, further, are then motivated to use violence to support their viewpoints rather than other methods of expression. In our own country, it’s pretty easy. We have other methods of expression readily at hand and most of us will choose to use them even in our most cynical and despondent hours to attempt to move the discourse or policies in ways that we might approve of, and thus such aggressive acts of politically motivated terrorism are so rare as to make it difficult for us to acknowledge their existence.

People in other countries, or people observing our behavior toward those other countries, do not unfortunately suffer this convenience of being able to easily shove our national mood into a more responsive place.

I guess my question is — if we label him a terrorist, then so what? How should that influence our policy?

When we go after Al-Qaida we don’t just try to catch bombers on their way to an attack; we go after the leadership, in part because we know they’ll continue to support and organize attacks against us.

Now, suppose Stack really crashed his plane into the IRS offices in order to inspire fear, raise awareness of his political points and ultimately shift the country in the direction he wanted. This on its own doesn’t seem to matter. The question is, was he completely self-radicalized (not a lot we can realistically do about those), or is there a group of radical anti-tax militants who are going to continue to push people to attack government buildings? If it’s the latter, then we might need to be worried.

This is also where the irrationality of our ideas about terrorism become very obvious. Most Americans probably don’t feel particularly less safe today, even after seeing how easily Joe Stack could launch his attack. If his name had been Yusuf Al-Stacki and his manifesto had been filled with AQ rhetoric, the public reaction probably would have been very different even if he were a lone nut and the details of the attack were otherwise identical.

I don’t think the law (via later Ackerman post) generally makes the kind of distinctions you’re making here. I can buy that Stack was an unsuccessful terrorist, not because he was thwarted but because he didn’t pull off terror in the sense you describe.

Thus, it makes sense that his example not be considered a priority for anti-terrorism officials. That said, it’s still probably worth a bit of attention from them as the Federal government was in every sense the target, it’s wise to investigate when someone is tried to kill your people.

Basically terrorism isn’t necessarily important. The better we get at responding to it, the less important it becomes. Anti-terror efforts, as you say, should focus on past successes to generate terror and future risks for that sort of thing, but that doesn’t factor into the classification of the crime.

While I fully respect the philosophy that labeling isolated incidents can devalue the “brand” of terrorism, I have to wonder if perhaps that is merely an argument in semantics. The actions of Timothy McVeigh and others in Oklahoma City were an isolated incident, but it seems to be one of the prime examples of domestic terrorism. Terrorism need not be a grand long-term scheme nor an outcome of a large group of ideologues.

Yes, the response and the prevention to “terrorism” is going to vary according to scale, but that doesn’t change the definition of the word. As the WSJ and others have attested, the act is certainly terrorism, even if it isn’t the kind we’ve been conditioned to recognize over the last 10 years.

After reading everyone’s comments, my response to everyone is basically this:

1. I think my underlying purpose in trying to think twice about whether to label this act “terrorism” was to determine how we ought to respond to it. Or, in other words, I think (as someone intimated above) how we label or categorize the act works to determine how we respond — and initially I wasn’t sure we should respond to this act the way we might or ought to respond to “terrorism.” To me, initially, it seemed we ought to respond as though it were merely the crazy act of a crazy person, rather than the act of a “terrorist.” All of this goes, of course, to the interaction between labels/language and policy. As I noted in my post, I don’t think an anti-terrorism policy can include efforts to prevent lone actors anymore than police can seek to prevent murders — and without something more, I also don’t think anti-terrorism policies can include any meaningful response to lone actors. So without any meaningful policy response (before or after the act), I don’t see how labeling the act as “terrorism” is workable or useful in any way. How or why should we label it “terrorism” if we cannot respond to or act against it as “terrorism”?

2. However, that being said (about my initial reactions), I have increasingly moved toward considering the act “terrorism” after all — largely due to the public reactions the act has spurred. Tea Partiers and CPACers cracking jokes and making light of the act — and praising it and creating Facebook fan pages for the actor — this is all cause for public concern, and reason to respond in ways that resemble a response to “terrorism” much more than a response to a lone act by a crazy actor. In other words, I think security folks ought to be monitoring those individuals and groups who express support or praise for this sort of thing — because it shows an increase in the likelihood of future violence — and that’s a response we reserve for “terrorism,” not single acts by crazy people. So, in the end, while my initial response was to question the label, I’ve moved toward embracing it.

It seems that there are two main considerations when calling something a “terrorist act.” First, only certain classes of “acts” can be terrorism (i.e. they must at least be violent or otherwise defined as acts capable to be defined as terrorist acts).

Second, however, is the “why” or purpose behind the act. The “why” behind an act, in my opinion, is critical to the definition of terrorism. It doesn’t seem to need to be informed by the effect of terror on the population.

What makes an act terrorism appears to be doing the act for the purpose of affecting change on either the political stance of the government or on the general culture. E.g. I act so that the government frees political prisoners or I act so that the American culture stop polluting my culture, etc. When looking at the purpose, it seems that it is possible to clearly fence off those purposes that are essential to making an act “terrorism.”

Outside of those purposes, it seems that most other acts would fall under the categories of either pure insanity, or committing the act for personal gain. This thought is, of course, premised on the notion that one can conduct a terrorist act and not be crazy, and I think it can. Terrorism is simply an extreme form of speech which we, in our society, have decided to single out and declare as unacceptable. It seems like we have decided to treat the concept of terrorism in this way because we see it as especially heinous. Why? Because it seems that the people committing the acts are not crazy! They have a “valid” (or otherwise coherent) point and instead of using valid political practices, they choose to “persuade” using the worst means. The concept of fear in the public never really enters into this except as it is the theoretical link in the chain from the act to the change in the political system (or culture). I think that “fear” can be assumed through the commission of the previously defined “act.”

In the Austin case, therefore, the question would hinge on whether he was actually insane. If not, if he was lucid and able to make decisions, he chose to exercise speech through his violent act. It is terrorism.

As for policy concerns, there seems to be a difference between a terrorist act and a terrorist organization. The policies fighting terrorism have to address both, and the “classic” responses to terrorism are geared toward attacking the organizations. In terms of the lone wolf actors, policies are going to clearly be difficult. But the same could be said about crime, generally. Since the acts can be essentially the same, stopping a lone wolf terrorist before he acts will present the same challenges as stopping a bank robber out for personal gain.

I think the best argument for calling him a terrorist is to make clear to the fools who are sympathizing with him that because he exercised speech in this way, he becomes no better than the perpetrators of 9/11. And if more Timothy McVeigh’s are out there, you will be prosecuted and labeled as such. It is weak, but it is something…

Terrorism is inextricably linked to speech, and should be held out as such.