One of California's largest firearm stores recently added a peculiar new gun to its shelves. It requires an accessory: a black waterproof watch.
The watch's primary purpose is not to provide accurate time, though it does. The watch makes the gun think. Electronic chips inside the gun and watch communicate with each other. If the watch is within close reach of the gun, a light on the grip turns green. Fire away. No watch means no green light. The gun becomes a paperweight.
A dream of gun-control advocates for decades, the Armatix iP1 is the country's first smart gun. Its introduction is seen as a landmark event in efforts to reduce gun violence, suicides and accidental shootings. Proponents compare smart guns to automobile air bags -- a transformative add-on that gun owners will demand. Gun-rights advocates are already balking, wondering what happens if the technology fails just as an intruder breaks in.
James Mitchell, the "extremely pro-gun" owner of the Oak Tree Gun Club, isn't one of the skeptics. His club's firearms shop is the only outlet in the country selling the iP1. "It could revolutionize the gun industry," Mitchell declared.
The implications for the iP1's introduction are potentially enormous, both politically and economically. And culturally, because the gun that reads James Bond's palm print in Skyfall is no longer a futuristic plot twist.
Although National Rifle Association officials did not respond to requests for comment about smart-gun technology, the group fiercely opposes "government mandates that require the use of expensive, unreliable features, such as grips that would read your fingerprints before the gun will fire," according to the website of its lobbying arm, the Institute for Legislative Action. "And NRA recognizes that the 'smart guns' issue clearly has the potential to mesh with the anti-gunner's agenda, opening the door to a ban on all guns that do not possess the government-required technology."
Even so, smart guns are potentially more palatable than other technological mandates, such as placing GPS tracking chips in guns, a controversial concept floated this session in the Maryland General Assembly.
The arrival of smart-gun technology also comes amid a flurry of interest in the concept from investors who think the country -- following the killings at Sandy Hook Elementary and the brutal legislative battles that followed -- is ready for new, innovative gun-control ideas. Last month, Ron Conway, a Silicon Valley titan and early investor in Google and Facebook, launched a $1 million X-prize-like contest for smart-gun technology.
"We need the iPhone of guns," Conway said, noting how the new iPhone 5s can be unlocked quickly with a fingerprint. "The entrepreneur who does this right could be the Mark Zuckerberg of guns. Then the venture capitalists like me will dive in, give them capital, and we will build a multibillion-dollar gun company that makes safe, smart guns."
A variety of approaches are in development. Armatix, the German company behind the iP1, uses RFID chips, which can be found on anti-theft tags attached to expensive clothing. TriggerSmart, an Irish company, also uses RFID chips, though with a ring instead of a watch. The company also has technology that would render guns inoperable if they approached electronic markers, for instance near a school.
The New Jersey Institute of Technology is using sensors to recognize grips and grasping behaviours. Kodiak Arms, a Utah company, is taking pre-orders for its Intelligun, which is unlocked with fingerprints. Other companies are using voice recognition. Yardarm, a California start-up, uses a smartphone app to notify gun owners of a weapon's movement. Users can even remotely disable their weapons.
Personalizing handguns for safety is actually an old idea. In 1886, after D.B. Wesson, the co-founder of Smith & Wesson, heard about a child injured with a gun, the company introduced a revolver with a special lever that made the gun operational. The product became nothing more than a historical relic.
Over the years, the idea of making guns smart has waxed and waned until a serious effort began in the early 1990s. Stephen Teret, a public health expert at Johns Hopkins University, commissioned undergraduate engineering students to build what turned out to be a crude smart gun activated by a ring. Later in the 1990s, the federal government researched smart guns to protect police officers whose guns were taken in struggles.
In 2000, after Colt had quietly worked on smart-gun technology, Maryland Gov. Parris Glendening, D, tried and failed to pass legislation mandating smart guns in the state. His effort was lauded by then-President Bill Clinton, whose administration struck a deal with Smith & Wesson to research the technology. But the backlash by gun owners and the NRA against the company was brutal, and Smith & Wesson's business tanked.
The debate then over whether the technology was ready and reliable and whether it would actually make a difference has crossed into the current burst of interest. Some of the sharpest criticism comes from an unlikely corner -- the Violence Policy Center, a staunch advocate to reduce gun violence.
Policy Center officials argue that the new technology is unlikely to stem gun homicides, which often occur between people who know each other, and that personalization will have no effect on the more than 300 million guns in circulation. The organization also questions whether the technology would deter the nearly 350,000 incidents of firearm theft per year, though some of the proposed technologies are add-ons installed on existing guns.
And perhaps most importantly, the Violence Policy Center worries that smart guns will increase the number of gun owners, because marketing around safety could sway those previously opposed to guns to make their first purchase.
"We are very skeptical of what this technology can accomplish," said Josh Sugarmann, the organization's executive director. "You're really affecting a very small portion of the gun-buying public."
-- The Washington Post