Are we living in a more dangerous society today than ever before or do we simply feel more vulnerable? Ian O'Donnell reports

It is said by criminologists that modern societies, such as Britain and the US, have developed a "crime complex". Violent victimisation is an accepted hazard of everyday life, anxiety about crime is pervasive, and governments are preoccupied with repressive strategies of control.

It seems that Ireland may be headed in this direction. But where is the evidence that the country has become more violent? How unsafe are our streets? There is no doubt that the risk of homicide has increased in recent years. There were 56 killings in 2000 compared with five in 1960. Since 1995, there has been an average of one violent death each week. A sizeable proportion of these incidents occurred in public places.

Although the national homicide rate remains low by international standards, there has been a sudden break with the past. Most adults will remember a time when lethal violence was remarkable for its infrequency. The number of minor assaults has also risen significantly and prosecutions for public order offences have soared. However, serious attacks recorded by the Garda have dropped sharply. It would seem that the risk of being stabbed or badly beaten was lower in the 1990s than during either of the previous two decades. This pattern is shown in the accompanying table.

It is difficult to know what to make of these conflicting trends. Should we feel anxious because the number of assaults has risen, or relieved because fewer are serious? How useful are the Garda statistics as a measure of crime levels? What is the relationship between fear and vulnerability? A survey two years ago by the Central Statistics Office found that men aged 18 to 24 were most at risk of assault. However, they were not afraid. Elderly women were a low-risk group but reported feeling unsafe. In other words, those unlikely to become caught up in street violence may nonetheless avoid going out for fear of the consequences.

Of particular concern are acts of aggression carried out late at night in towns and cities. A common theme is the supposedly random nature of these attacks. Urban predators are said to strike without warning and to show no mercy. Their violence is portrayed as senseless as well as gratuitous. If true, this would be a cause for alarm.

However, current research shows that violence is rarely random. It has an internal logic, although this may be difficult to discern. On some occasions, an attack is motivated by self-defence or by retaliation. On others, its purpose is punishment, an attempt to demonstrate toughness or a demand for respect.

Street clashes are often fuelled by alcohol and may be exacerbated by the presence of a crowd. The roles of "victim" and "perpetrator" may shift during an encounter. While disturbing and destructive, this activity is not inexplicable. To see violence as meaningless is to narrow the scope of preventive action and to allow fear to flourish.

The type of crime that causes anxiety has changed over the years. Not so long ago, syringe attacks were the terror of the public. By and large, this strain of criminal activity has disappeared. There were 10 times as many burglaries, and twice as many robberies, at the point of a needle in 1996 as in 2000. Over the years, there have also been waves of alarm over attacks on the elderly in rural areas.

Cycles of fearfulness have been thoroughly mapped by historians of crime. At the end of the 19th century, for example, the word "hooligan" began to appear in court reports in London. This set the scene for a period of frenzied speculation about the new menace that was thought to be stalking the city's streets.

The word is said to have derived from Patrick Hooligan, a small-time bouncer and thief who lived on the south side of the river Thames. Mr Hooligan eventually murdered a policeman and ended his days in prison. Whether or not he was responsible for an upsurge in crime, he certainly provided a focus for public unease.

Casual brutality, while in the news, is not new. In February 1780, the Hibernian Journal, a Dublin newspaper, reported that "murder in this city has become so common, that it has lost all its horrors; every day teems with new instances of the most horrid barbarity". Such commentary would not seem out of place in today's media.

It is cold comfort to know that violence and fear have long been with us, although their form has changed with time. Such an understanding is not intended to trivialise current concerns.

In the interests of community safety, it is important to realign public perceptions with the reality of violence, as far as this can be ascertained.

Furthermore, if we are to have any hope of devising effective interventions it is important to consider violent conduct in all its messy complexity.

Dr Ian O'Donnell is research fellow, Institute of Criminology, Law Faculty, University College Dublin

Series concluded. Readers can share their experiences of violent crime at www.ireland.com/focus/streetcrime