Most nights the portico of the First Baptist Church is littered with bodies of sleeping men and woman. Nearby shopping carts hold all of their worldly possessions; cardboard boxes are used as makeshift shelters. The area smells of human excrement and nearby neighbors complain of shouts and screams through the night as well as the occasional act of prostitution.

Meanwhile, shoppers to Christie’s convenience store at Dartmouth and Boylston are greeted by a polite gentleman who opens doors for those entering and leaving. Hat in hand, he asks for donations for the homeless — presumably, meaning himself. He does well, possibly collecting more in an hour than the clerks working inside.

Pedestrians in the Back Bay see a variety of seemingly homeless men and women. A young man with dyed hair can usually be found along Boylston Street. A woman near Arlington keeps up a litany of epithets and curses. An older man near Kaya restaurant yells threats at children walking by.

Some see homelessness as a metaphorical condemnation of American society. Others blame the homeless themselves, seeing them as the causes of their own circumstances. Still others see it as a threat to social order, something that, when tolerated, makes life more risky and living more unpleasant for those who reside in the city. For most, it remains a deeply troubling problem, an urban constant that seems virtually insoluble.

Part of the solution to homelessness lies in understanding its causes. Homelessness itself is not a problem, it’s a symptom. Trying to cure homelessness is like trying to cure a headache. Headaches have a host of causes, each of which demands a different treatment. So too does homelessness.

On the streets of Boston we today see a wide variety of people who appear to be homeless. Most are in genuine need. Some, such as the mentally ill and those addicted to drugs or alcohol, are virtually incompetent to make rational choices for themselves. These people sometimes seem to pose the biggest threat to public safety, and people often react to them by demanding police action. In fact, however, they demand more in the way of attention, sympathy and care.

Others who are homeless are caught in circumstances that seem to trap them. A large number of the homeless are women with dependent children who are unable to care for themselves without risking caring for their children. They need shelters, they need child care and they need some way to escape from a cycle of poverty by getting a decent paying job.

Then there are those whose need is less genuine, such as professional panhandlers. It is this group that is most bothersome, and it is this group that should receive the least of our sympathy. Panhandlers can be found soliciting people, indeed, sometimes harassing people, for money. Many are not truly homeless, but rather see panhandling as an alternative to a conventional job.

Aggressive panhandlers do deserve the attention of the police. Their presence hurts residential and commercial areas, scaring away visitors and residents. People become so fed up with them that they develop a kind of charity burnout, thinking that the beggars are typical of all the homeless.

Addressing this problems does not require new legislation. Rather, it requires creatively enforcing existing laws. For example, Boston has on the books an ordinance that requires people to have a license to solicit money. Enforcing such a rule could dramatically reduce the level of professional panhandling in the area.

Police action alone will not eliminate the presence of the homeless. It may reduce the level of some of the most egregious behavior, however, and allow us to focus more clearly and forcefully on the genuine tragedies still in our midst.