You really seem to understand the gestalt of a wide issue that has it's roots in the days when oog the caveman wondered, "throw big rock, or throw small rock?"
Guns are rock throwers. Bad guys and good guys are both animals, and unpredictable. You don't get to choose when, where, who, what, in short, the outcome and circumstances of your use of a weapon is going to be decided by either God, Satan, or random chaos, whichever you believe in.
Deciding that one gadget or another will make you safe, save your soul, make a real man out of you or whatever and that only fools choose the other, is the sort of mindset that Timothy Leary had.
If I can digress a bit, statistically, in Drunk driving fatalities, the drunk has a better chance of surviving. It is suggested that his booze fueled noodlism is what keeps his bones from breaking and organs from rupturing.
Flexibility and adaptability are the key to victory in any contest, and survival, and a gun confrontation is nothing but a contest. No rules, no red ribbon. sometimes not even a blue.
Once, when I was a very young and impressionable guy, I alternated 115/147/fmj rounds in my magazines as was suggested by an "expert". After firing a couple dozen of those magazines, i realized that it was the stupidest idea I'd ever heard. I started taking different psychotropic medications, then I mastered using one round. The only advantage I'm going to claim in a confrontation is that I'm good at what I do, I'm certain of what I'm doing, and I'm going to dodge, run, skip, and last but not least, leave no stone unturned to kill that bad guy. Most of the time, the other guy won't have any of those advantages, but he'll still be armed, and just firing one lucky shot at me may be enough to kill me.
So, I adapted my choice of weapon and ammunition to my skills and so forth, adapted it to my probable target, and made an empty vessel of my mind. Then I handed my butt over to God, and I hope he's going to give me a break if it ever comes to a life and death situation. Part of adapting is that there is a 30-06 inside my hall closet, and that comes out more often than the pistol does, if there is a disturbance in my neighborhood.
Once several years ago, there was a traffic stop on main street in my town. Main street is a rather low traffic area here.
A passenger, a convicted felon and parolee, was holding a stolen .44 magnum. He jumped out of the car and fired. What ensued was a 6 block running gunfight. there were lots of officers, and dozens of rounds fired, the perp was hit numerous times, and he he went down only after an officer nailed him with a rifle as he circled around to his vehicle. Our men carried +P hydrashok. He wasn't wearing body armor or a bullet proof leather jacket, it wasn't bad lots of ammo, he wasn't arnold whoever that guy is, he just kept going, like hundreds of other people have under similar circumstances.
It perfectly illustrates the concept that we, the protagonists, don't decide the outcome of those contests. All we do is toss the elements into the blender, and hope that it doesn't eventually take a man with an AR to intervene and save our lives.