Who knows the difference between right and wrong?

The man who gunned down the concertgoers in Las Vegas must have believed that in his mind, he was doing the right thing.

Go into any maximum security prison in this country and ask murderers if killing someone was the right thing to do and many will say at that moment in time it was right to pull the trigger, to stab the knife or to strangle the victim.

In 2005, The Washington Post reported that a study revealed 4 percent of Americans have no moral boundaries to committing acts of violence, or stealing, or marital infidelity, or breaking a law. Recent estimates imply that number is significantly on the rise.

We have the free will to justify any indiscretion we commit so we can then rest our heads comfortably on our pillows at night.

“I cheated on the test because that’s the only way I could pass the course.”

“I punched him in the face because he was bothering me.”

“I stole the money because I had no job and I have to eat.”

“I had an affair because there’s no love anymore in our marriage.”

In an imaginary court of moral law, 18th century German philosopher, Immanuel Kant would judge each modern-day transgressor with his Categorical Imperative. His moral rule states, “Act according to maxims which you can will to also be universal laws.”

Kant believed that whether we were taught right and wrong by our parents or we were raised in a house of immoral criminals, every human being still wants to be treated with moral respect. He implied that human beings are moral hypocrites. If the test cheater becomes a father, he will tell his children that cheating is unacceptable. The punch thrower doesn’t believe there is ever a reason to punch him. He who steals would be outraged if someone stole from him and a husband who has a marital affair will scorn his wife’s infidelity.

Kant’s Categorical Imperative is exemplified in prisons when inmates demand to be protected from violence and to be treated with respect, yet they were incarcerated because they themselves have committed acts of violence and disrespect.

The popular quote from the Bible simplifies Kant’s Imperative. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

Perhaps the Vegas shooter justified his actions in his conscience because he was avenging life’s cruelties that have been imposed upon him. His moral maxim might have been, “Do misery unto the world because of what misery the world has done to you.”

Prisons and gun laws only go so far to protect us from going into crowded public places where an unconscionable person seeks to do harm. Look over your shoulder in the shopping mall. That man behind you who’s staring into the crowd looks angry. You think that maybe he feels isolated even though there are people everywhere around him. You worry he might have a weapon. You think that maybe his father was an angry man who was in and out of prison for hurting people. You think his mother never held him in her arms when he was a baby.

You surmise that he has no job, no friends, and no one who loves him. You put him in that group of people we call the mentally unstable. He doesn’t care about anyone and that includes himself. He just wants to hurt, to kill, to leave behind his deadly mark. He understands the “do unto you” part that will come when the police arrive so after the carnage, he will put the gun to his temple and pull the trigger to end the misery of his life and to avoid public persecution.

There are too many angry and isolated individuals who at this very moment may be planning another senseless attack on us.

To stop these public shootings, several think tank websites suggest we need more gun control and we need more vigilance in crowded public places.

Perhaps these measures will help, but I believe the root of the problem lies in the ever-increasing number of fractured families. The Journal of Police Psychology reports that 50 percent of violent crime is committed by an individual who was raised in a dysfunctional family.

The Las Vegas killer, who had isolated himself weeks before he carried out his plan, was a gambling addict whose father had been a bank robber and lifelong criminal.

If I could ask him one question right now, it would not be, “Why did you do it?” I would ask, “What could have been done to get you to not do it”?

A day or so before his first shot was fired into the crowd, he might have had an answer for this question, if only there was someone who knew him well enough to have asked.

Rich Strack can be reached at katehep11@gmail.com.