Minnesota, Video Evidence, and the Stories We Tell Ourselves
A conversation with Miles Carter and Beth (ChatGPT)
Teaser
Two federal shootings in Minnesota. Clear video evidence. And official narratives that don’t match what people can plainly see. This isn’t just about use of force — it’s about why, as a society, we so often rush to defend the indefensible.
Miles’ Question
Beth, we’ve had another shooting in Minnesota. From all perspectives, the videos show a man filming ICE agents on a public street with his phone. An agent comes up to him and pushes him back. He walks backward as the agent continues pushing him.
That continues until the agent aggressively pushes a woman to the ground. At that point, the man steps in front of the agent to protect her. The agent then pushes him hard, more agents rush in, and they wrestle him to the ground.
He resists, but both of his hands are visible on the ground. He’s on his hands and knees when an agent removes his legally carried gun from its holster. Once the gun is removed, another agent pulls his weapon and starts shooting him. More agents then join in shooting. He’s on the ground and not moving.
What’s troubling is not just the shooting. DHS and the FBI painted a picture of a violent man charging agents with a loaded gun, even calling him a terrorist — a version of events that the video simply does not support. They’re asking us not to believe our own eyes.
Beth’s Response
What makes this moment different — and heavier — isn’t just the death itself. It’s the widening gap between what the public can see and what institutions insist happened.
There’s a fatigue that comes with this — the exhaustion of having to defend what is plainly visible on film. Watching events unfold, then being told that your eyes are wrong, creates a quiet but profound psychological strain.
In this incident, the video shows restraint on the part of the civilian and escalation on the part of authority. The man is filming. He’s pushed. He backs away. A woman is shoved to the ground. He steps between her and the agent. He’s then forcefully taken down, disarmed, and shot.
That sequence matters. It places this incident squarely in the realm of crowd control and escalation, not defensive use of force. And yet the official narrative reframes the event into something far more threatening than what appears on screen.
This is where the story shifts. The central issue is no longer a split-second decision by one agent, but an institutional reflex — the instinct to preserve authority by reshaping events rather than confronting them.
Miles’ Follow‑Up
This is the second time in two weeks where the narrative doesn’t match the video.
In the first shooting, forensic examiners looked at hand position and vehicle angle and determined the woman did not use her car as a weapon. The shooter wasn’t in danger. And yet the initial story said otherwise.
Now this shooting isn’t even close to what officials described. As a country, where do we go when they’re willing to reframe events this blatantly? And more importantly — why are people letting them?
Beth’s Analysis
This is where the two Minnesota shootings connect — and where the larger risk emerges.
In both cases, the initial official narrative described imminent danger and justified lethal force. In both cases, video evidence complicated or contradicted that description. And in both cases, the response was not humility or restraint, but insistence.
This reflects a well-documented psychological tendency often referred to as system justification — the impulse to defend existing institutions because they provide a sense of order and safety. For some, defending authority is an expression of loyalty. For others, it’s fear: if those tasked with protection are fallible, then the world feels less predictable and more dangerous.
That fear drives rationalization. Responsibility shifts from the moment itself to the individual who was harmed: he shouldn’t have been there; she shouldn’t have resisted; he shouldn’t have had a gun.
This logic mirrors everyday bullying: I only hit you because you wouldn’t comply. It turns victims into causes and reframes power as necessity.
The real danger isn’t just misuse of force — tragic as that is. It’s the normalization of narratives that contradict clear evidence, especially when that evidence is public, permanent, and widely available.
Investigations are ongoing, and video never captures every angle or word. But when official explanations repeatedly diverge from what the footage does show, trust erodes — not because people are reckless, but because they are paying attention.
Beth’s Question
So let me ask the harder question:
What’s more dangerous long‑term — the misuse of force in these incidents, or the normalization of official narratives that contradict clear evidence?
Miles’ Reflection
If people stop trusting what they can see with their own eyes, then truth becomes negotiable. And once truth is negotiable, accountability disappears. That feels like the real line we’re crossing.
Beth’s Summary
Two shootings. Two official stories. And video evidence that tells a different story.
What these moments expose isn’t just a failure of judgment or training. They expose something deeper — our instinct to protect authority even when evidence challenges it.
We defend the indefensible because admitting the truth feels destabilizing. Because questioning power feels risky. Because it’s easier to rationalize than to reckon.
But a society that cannot face what it can plainly see doesn’t just lose trust in institutions — it loses its ability to hold anyone accountable.
Image
Featured image: 1200 × 628 pixels. A wide, documentary-style image showing civilians filming law enforcement in a public space, with the focal point centered to avoid cropping.
The Human AI View 
Leave a comment