I think a big problem in this discussion is perspective. In the middle ages, a child of noble birth, by the time he was ten years old, would have been expected to have been trained at least to the level of fighting prowess of any peasant soldier or low level infantry fighter, having been drilled since the age of 5 or 6 in the ways and wiles of combat. Just because we see and treat a 10 year old as “merely” a child here in the US, doesn’t mean they are treated or taught the same in other places.
In many Native American cultures (before the Europeans), a 10 year old was ready (or near ready) to go through the rituals of manhood, and to become a full fledged warrior and hunter for his tribe. In Africa, there were (and doubtless still are) tribes where a 10 year old was considered old enough to be a man, and was treated as such. The problem is, we are viewing the situation from a modern American perspective, rather than viewing it from a proper cultural point of view.
And yes, a ten year old can understand the consequences of their actions. I’m going to tell my own story now, so please forgive me the indulgence…
When I was eight years old, we used to visit my grandfather on his ranch fairly regularly. Whenever we’d go there, I would see my grandpa’s collection of rifles in their glass case, and man, did I want to try them out. I was always looking at them, and wanting to play with them; to touch them and to make them work.
My grandpa saw this, and one day, took me out on his ranch with a wagon of watermelons and a .22 rifle. He set up the watermelons, then came back, and taught me how to shoot. It was great fun, and man, did I fill those watermelons with holes.
When we were done, my grandfather took the rifle, unloaded it, and put it away. Then he took my hand and walked me out to those watermelons, and stooped low to the ground, touching the splattered remains that littered the area. He beckoned me close, and I came forward as he pointed at the mess.
“You see that, boy?” he said, his face deadly serious. Gone was the light hearted smile that he had while teaching me to aim and fire.
“Yes,” I replied.
“That’s what happens when you shoot something, boy. A gun destroys. It wreaks…it ruins…and there ain’t no fixin’ it when its over. What happened to that watermelon is the same as will happen to a person, or an animal, if you ever shot one. Remember that,” he said. He wasn’t angry, but his voice was one of menacing calm. That was the very last time that I ever looked at a gun and wanted to play with it. I understood the consequences that using such a weapon could have, at eight years old.
To say that a ten year old can’t comprehend consequences is a load of crap. To say that a ten year old can’t comprehend death is a load of crap. I understood it then, and I wasn’t even raised in an environment where death and violence were a daily event. Just because your average 10 year old in the US wouldn’t be capable of such things, doesn’t mean that a 10 year old brought up with violence and weapons somewhere else wouldn’t.