We write this letter not to inflame division, not to win an argument, and not to assign partisan blame.
We write it to restate a simple, universal truth:

Every human being has only one life.

This truth applies equally to protesters, migrants, bystanders, and law-enforcement officers. It applies across nations, systems, and ideologies. And precisely because it is universal, it must also place limits on state power.

Recent fatal incidents during immigration enforcement operations in the United States have drawn widespread protest and concern. When lethal force is used more than once in similar contexts, within a short period of time, society is no longer confronting a single mistake, but a pattern.

Patterns demand structural reflection, not temporary outrage.

History teaches us that repeated loss of life under state authority is never explained by individual intent alone. It reflects how systems are designed, what risks they tolerate, and whose lives are implicitly treated as expendable.

Death cannot be undone.
There is no appeal, no correction, no second chance.

This is not a moral metaphor—it is a physical fact.

A metal bullet, even when fired “as a warning,” remains a high-energy object governed by physics, not intention. Once released, it becomes uncontrollable. The risk of fatality is inherent, not accidental.

For this reason alone, lethal force cannot be treated as a routine tool of compliance or deterrence.

The United States already possesses widely deployed non-lethal tools, including conducted electrical weapons (such as Tasers), along with decades of operational experience.

This matters.

Because when a state has the capacity to restrain without killing, yet chooses lethal escalation, the question is no longer “capability,” but priority.

A civilized system must be judged not by the weapons it owns, but by the order in which it chooses to use them.

What follows is not a utopian vision, but a technically feasible, immediately actionable baseline—one that many societies are already capable of meeting.

1. Non-lethal force as default
   Non-lethal tools should be the primary means of restraint whenever there is no immediate, unavoidable threat to life.

2. Mandatory AED availability
   Each enforcement unit should be equipped with an Automated External Defibrillator (AED). Cardiac arrest—whether induced by stress, struggle, or electrical shock—is a known risk, not a surprise.

3. Basic life-saving training
   Law-enforcement personnel should be trained in CPR, trauma response, and emergency medical stabilization. The capacity to restrain must be matched by the capacity to preserve life.

These measures are affordable. They are scalable. And they are well within the operational abilities of the United States.

When such measures are absent, it reflects not incapacity, but choice.

When deaths occur and society moves on without structural change, something grave happens:

Forgetting becomes a second act of violence.

Memory is not vengeance.
Accountability is not hostility.
Reform is not weakness.

Every meaningful reform in history began not with denial, but with the refusal to treat tragedy as normal.

This letter is not written against any single country, party, or administration. The issues it raises are visible in many systems, under many flags.

What distinguishes a civilized society is not the absence of conflict, but its refusal to manage conflict through fear and irreversible harm.

If a state can deploy weapons, it can deploy restraint.
If it can enforce the law, it can also protect life.

To those protesting: your voices matter, not because they are loud, but because they insist that life has value beyond procedure.

To those in power: legitimacy is not preserved by force alone, but by restraint, accountability, and the courage to reform.

Tragedy can be an awakening.
But only if it is remembered—and acted upon.

Sincerely,
Lynne

We write this letter not to inflame division, not to win an argument, and not to assign partisan blame.
We write it to restate a simple, universal truth:

Every human being has only one life.

This truth applies equally to protesters, migrants, bystanders, and law-enforcement officers. It applies across nations, systems, and ideologies. And precisely because it is universal, it must also place limits on state power.

Recent fatal incidents during immigration enforcement operations in the United States have drawn widespread protest and concern. When lethal force is used more than once in similar contexts, within a short period of time, society is no longer confronting a single mistake, but a pattern.

Patterns demand structural reflection, not temporary outrage.

History teaches us that repeated loss of life under state authority is never explained by individual intent alone. It reflects how systems are designed, what risks they tolerate, and whose lives are implicitly treated as expendable.

Death cannot be undone.
There is no appeal, no correction, no second chance.

This is not a moral metaphor—it is a physical fact.

A metal bullet, even when fired “as a warning,” remains a high-energy object governed by physics, not intention. Once released, it becomes uncontrollable. The risk of fatality is inherent, not accidental.

For this reason alone, lethal force cannot be treated as a routine tool of compliance or deterrence.

The United States already possesses widely deployed non-lethal tools, including conducted electrical weapons (such as Tasers), along with decades of operational experience.

This matters.

Because when a state has the capacity to restrain without killing, yet chooses lethal escalation, the question is no longer “capability,” but priority.

A civilized system must be judged not by the weapons it owns, but by the order in which it chooses to use them.

What follows is not a utopian vision, but a technically feasible, immediately actionable baseline—one that many societies are already capable of meeting.

1. Non-lethal force as default
   Non-lethal tools should be the primary means of restraint whenever there is no immediate, unavoidable threat to life.

2. Mandatory AED availability
   Each enforcement unit should be equipped with an Automated External Defibrillator (AED). Cardiac arrest—whether induced by stress, struggle, or electrical shock—is a known risk, not a surprise.

3. Basic life-saving training
   Law-enforcement personnel should be trained in CPR, trauma response, and emergency medical stabilization. The capacity to restrain must be matched by the capacity to preserve life.

These measures are affordable. They are scalable. And they are well within the operational abilities of the United States.

When such measures are absent, it reflects not incapacity, but choice.

When deaths occur and society moves on without structural change, something grave happens:

Forgetting becomes a second act of violence.

Memory is not vengeance.
Accountability is not hostility.
Reform is not weakness.

Every meaningful reform in history began not with denial, but with the refusal to treat tragedy as normal.

This letter is not written against any single country, party, or administration. The issues it raises are visible in many systems, under many flags.

What distinguishes a civilized society is not the absence of conflict, but its refusal to manage conflict through fear and irreversible harm.

If a state can deploy weapons, it can deploy restraint.
If it can enforce the law, it can also protect life.

To those protesting: your voices matter, not because they are loud, but because they insist that life has value beyond procedure.

To those in power: legitimacy is not preserved by force alone, but by restraint, accountability, and the courage to reform.

Tragedy can be an awakening.
But only if it is remembered—and acted upon.

Sincerely,
Lynne