Need, context, and when a question deserves to be answered
Why do you need that? This is a favorite question among gun control advocates with regard to semiautomatic rifles, handguns that hold more than ten rounds, barrels with a bore diameter greater than half an inch, and on and on—and among spouses and sweethearts if the price is higher than whatever change can be found under the couch cushions.
Politically speaking, the immediate answer is “none of your business.” It would be a cliché to point out that the Bill of Rights is not a bill of needs were this not a matter of contention for many. Why do I need to own a copy of the Bible, the Qur’an, Admiral Dönitz’s memoirs, or books on traditional woodworking? Why do I need Bach’s B-minor Mass, the first Crash Test Dummies album, and the Dubliners fortieth anniversary concert in my music collection? What might I be doing if I meet with friends at a local park?
To all of those, if I am being asked by someone seeking to ban this or restrict that, my response is the same as above. I would also give that answer to a cop who wants to know why I might choose not to answer questions. Or to any agent of law enforcement who wishes to come into my home. It is the nature of basic rights that we are under no moral obligation to explain our exercise of them, and the law should not attempt to manufacture any such duty.
Alas, in terms of contemporary politics, it is sensible always to be ready to explain the rights that are in us, if I may apply 1 Peter 3:15 out of context, at least with people who are honestly asking. The natural reaction is to be snarky, rude, or dismissive, and that is the kind of answer that gun control advocates deserve and desire. They are not seeking fair debate in the modern agora, but instead want to provoke anger and foul language—if only to aid in their fundraising, though it seems that at least some of them do want a nationwide conflagration in which the ATF and FBI burn down homes and engage in gunfights at rural compounds while confiscating guns. But there are some people who are genuinely interested in understanding, and while they may not end up agreeing with the gun rights position, we nevertheless ought to try.
All right, so much for the answer in a discussion of the philosophy of law and society: Why do I need this? It is my right to have it. And if the question is honest, there are practical reasons that motivated me.
But “why do I need that?” has other uses that are worthy of our personal consideration. For one thing—and here I speak in contradiction of the minimalists, though even Marie Kondo has had to admit that the whole thing was a bit silly—having things is a pleasure. I collect books and guns especially, not as an investor who is seeking to build a portfolio, but as someone who will use each item eventually. I scribble notes in my books and stack them on tables around me to dig into as I am writing. At least one is set out as my current book to read in moments of peace. Some of my guns are in my armory because they are mechanically interesting, while others are good for carrying daily. My Beretta 92FS has an accessory rail and a trigger that my cats cannot set off, so it is what I keep by me at night. If I had to, I could get by with many fewer of either of these kinds of objects, but I would not want to.
That being said, there is some wisdom in the question of what purpose a potential new purchase may be put to. I was recently considering buying an Iver Johnson top-break revolver—the owl’s head logo appealed to me—but after checking the serial number, I learned that this particular model cannot handle smokeless .32 Long cartridges, and one of my rules for firearms collecting is that I must have some way of shooting the piece—some way that does not involve shipping rounds from the Khyber Pass or consulting with Franciscan monks on the proper grinding of charcoal—so I gave that one a pass. I have the same reaction toward .32 H&R Magnum revolvers. The concept is nifty, but getting gun and cartridge together at the same time for a price that I am willing to pay takes more work that I have so far been willing to commit to.
Thus, “why do you need that?” is often an impertinent question and in any case must be addressed as a philosophical and then political matter. “Why do I need that?” is a personal matter that each one of us can only answer individually, depending on what our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred storage spaces allow. But in either case, this is not a question to dismiss without thought.