What Is Injury, Really?

It’s the only thing that means anything in violence, or at least that’s what we’re always saying…  But what is injury after all?  And is there a simpler way to think of it, relate to it and thereby better relate it to others?

We’ll start with the dictionary definition of the word—The Shorter Oxford English Dictionary, 5th Ed. says:

Hurt or loss caused to or sustained by a person or thing; harm, detriment; damage, esp. to the body; an instance of this.

This is a good start, but it’s not quite as serious or stunning as I would like.  While “harm, detriment, damage” are all good synonyms for what we’re up to, it’s still a little bit vague on the overall effect we’re gunning for.  There are plenty of people out there, for example, who believe that they can sustain “damage” and keep going.  And, of course, they’re right.  We all can.  But no one—NO ONE—can sustain injury the way we mean it and keep going.  Period.  So even the dictionary leaves something to be desired, a tightening-up of ambiguities.

These ambiguities flourish and grow into their own chaos-gardens in the minds of the average person—I daresay no two people’s definition of “injury” is going to be exactly the same.  For some it is tearing a fingernail or stubbing a toe; others won’t declare it until blood is spilled.  The difference between a lucky person unused to pain and a trauma surgeon is going to be vast.  It’s a lot like saying the word “dog” out loud to a roomful of people—everyone will see a dog in their mind’s eye, but I daresay no two will be alike.

And still, for me, even with torn skin and spilled blood, we are not at a workable definition.

Our own textbook definition reads thusly:

The disruption of human tissue in a specific anatomical feature such that normal function is obviously decremented (and can only be regained through medical intervention), eliciting an involuntary spinal reflex reaction.

This is great for two reasons:  it reinforces the universality of violence (as this effect can be achieved with any judicious application of kinetic energy, from fist to stick to bullet) as well as being specific enough to rule out hangnails and messy, but ultimately ineffective, minor lacerations.

The only problem is that for all its precise lawyer-ese it’s quite a mouth- and mindful.  It’s not easy to remember, it doesn’t roll off the tongue, and you’re just plain not going to win over any converts with it.  It’s thorough, but clunky.  By seeking to be clear it loses its clarity and becomes next to worthless to you.  Anything that gets in the way of your understanding needs to be retooled—like carving steps into an insurmountable cliff face.

This gets us to my current favorite way to think of injury:

Break things inside people so they don’t work anymore.

This is the way the sociopath approaches the problem, the way the Saturday night slugger thinks when he wades in to deliver a beatdown.  It is the simplest way to think of injury.  It paints a picture that’s easy to parse; even the ambiguities work in your favor.  Does “they” refer to the people or the things inside them?  Hey, either one—or both—I’m good with all of it.

This is a definition of injury you can take as your personal violence mission statement.  It’s all you want to do; it’s the only measuring stick that divides success from failure.  Easy to think, easy to say, easy to do.

It just goes to show that sometimes simple is better than precise.

— Chris Ranck-Buhr (from 2007)