I meet Robbie in the Old Toll Bar, just south of the river — a part of Glasgow that I’m ashamed to say I rarely visit, since it’s on the outer edges of the West End studenty bubble I’m usually floating around in. It’s the kind of place that guide books would call a “hidden gem” — an unassuming exterior, but through the doors you’re greeted with wood panelling dating back to the nineteenth century, artfully strung fairy lights and a dozen or so — safely distanced — tables bearing wax-encrusted candlesticks. It’s Robbie’s local, and before lockdown he’d often drop in at the weekend with his fiddle to play a set or two with his flatmates who are also musicians. Since measures were relaxed and the bar re-opened, he’s still down there regularly — just for a pint until the live-music ban is lifted — but the atmosphere is distinctly different and the night we meet, a Tuesday, only one other table is occupied.
Gun Rights and Utilitarianism
Many on both sides of the gun debate are under the impression that the best way to settle it is by weighing outcomes in…