Part I: How We Frame Violence (Politico as Exhibit A)
The Politico coverage of Charlie Kirk’s killing stands out not because it deviated from the norm, but because it exemplified a familiar pattern in how America processes shocking lone-actor attacks. In the immediate aftermath, the national information ecosystem predictably rushes to assign a political label, issue warnings about escalating threats, and largely overlook the attacker’s personal unraveling. Both the initial same-day news report and the in-depth expert round-up published two days later meticulously followed this template.
To be fair, the murder of Charlie Kirk carried exceptional symbolic weight. As a nationally recognized conservative figure, who was shot publicly while speaking to supporters and livestreamed to a broad audience, the instinct to interpret the act politically was inevitable and understandable. But this instinct, while human and immediate among the public, presents a responsibility challenge for journalists, political leaders, and experts entrusted with framing such events. Their duty is not to simply amplify instinct, but to refine it—delaying judgment, awaiting evidence, and resisting the urge to fill informational gaps with pre-existing political narratives. Yet, in Kirk’s case, as in prior incidents in Buffalo, Jacksonville, and Butler, professionals largely reinforced rather than tempered the rush to label. The mingling of public instinct and professional framing in this rush risks replacing clarity with distortion.
Several political violence experts weighed in following Kirk’s assassination, underscoring perceived structural drivers of such violence. Barbara Walter pointed to the confluence of democratic erosion, deep social divisions, permissive attitudes among leaders toward violence, and easy gun access as factors heightening risk. She highlighted the tech-driven “radicalization pipeline” as the most actionable lever to slow this trend. Joel Busher emphasized weakening social norms against violence and the embedding of tacit acceptance within some circles, while Erica Frantz linked growth in political violence to “ruling party personalism”—where party loyalty centers on a leader over policies, normalizing aggressive behavior by supporters. Robert Pape described the killing as tragic yet “predictable,” blaming failures of bipartisan leadership to condemn violence and restore civic norms.
While these analyses rightly call for renewed leadership and norm clarity, they may also reflect a common misreading—treating lone-actor violence primarily as straightforward political escalation. In reality, much of today’s violence can be better understood as symptomatic of broader societal breakdown, manifesting politically because individuals anchor their personal crises in political rhetoric. This violence is a subset of wider trends in American social decay, adopting various political, religious, racial, or cultural costumes that overlay deeper personal despair. This distinction matters profoundly; if violence is seen mainly as political, solutions focus largely on curbing ideological radicalization—such as regulating online platforms. But if the true driver is societal collapse and fractured personal identity, such narrow approaches will fall short.
This perspective aligns with Clionadh Raleigh, CEO of Armed Conflict Location and Event Data (ACLED), who argues that Kirk’s assassination fits a broader pattern of fragmented, individualized violence rather than organized partisan conflict. She highlights that many perpetrators and victims lack coherent political affiliations or goals, instead reflecting the U.S.’s unique vulnerability to individualized violence within a polarized, heavily armed society. Far from anticipating mass, coordinated political violence, the more pressing challenge is preventing such isolated attacks from becoming normalized as part of political life. This calls for broad strategies emphasizing social resilience, public health, and gun access reduction, alongside careful political and media rhetoric
When investigators examine the lives of lone-actor attackers, ideology often emerges—but closer inspection reveals it as more of a borrowed script or costume than a root cause. Manifestos, social media posts, and online tirades provide a veneer of motive but often mask profound personal crises.
For example, the Buffalo supermarket shooter’s manifesto, filled with racist memes and jargon, was later found to be largely plagiarized from previous extremist writings, stitched together from online infographics and memes. Beneath this political façade was a deeply troubled individual who had dropped out of college, isolated socially, and faced mental health struggles—revealed by a prior mental health evaluation triggered by a generalized threat at school. This points to despair as the true driver, not coherent ideology.
Similarly, the Jacksonville shooter combined racial hatred with idiosyncratic pop culture grievances targeting figures like Eminem and Machine Gun Kelly. Local law enforcement described his writings as the “rantings of an isolated, hateful, madman.” The shooter’s personal circumstances—discontinuing psychiatric medication, social isolation, and job loss—further highlighted his personal unraveling over ideology.
The 2024 attempted assassination of Donald Trump in Butler, Pennsylvania, defied easy partisan categorization. The attacker was a registered Republican and had donated to a progressive cause, leaving no definitive manifesto or ideological trail. Reports described signs of mental strain and withdrawal, yet the attack was quickly framed as a left-wing assault on a conservative icon.
If ideology serves as mere costume, martyrdom often functions as the theatrical stage. Lone-actors seek not just to kill but to be seen, remembered, even sanctified. Their violence is rarely strategic; it is performative theater. They cast themselves as heroes or avengers even when their acts undermine the very causes they purport to champion. The Buffalo massacre discredited white nationalism; Jacksonville’s attack intensified public revulsion at racism; the Trump rally attempt generated sympathy for the intended victim. Rather than advancing ideology, these attacks diminish it.
The common thread is clear: these individuals are not rational ideologues advancing strategy but collapsing persons grasping for meaning in an indifferent world. They borrow political rhetoric to script themselves into dramas larger than their own lives. When the costume is mistaken for the cause, society not only misconstrues the attacker but also overlooks the root conditions enabling such violence: loneliness, failure, anger, and despair.
Even well after forty-eight hours, media accounts often remain fixated on political framing while neglecting the attacker’s personal trajectory. Profiling personal crises, life ruptures, and psychological decline typically lags, buried beneath political narratives. This was true in Kirk’s case and also in Buffalo, Jacksonville, and Butler.
The tension between public instinct and professional responsibility is consequential. The instinct to label political figure assassinations as politically motivated is understandable in moments of shock. Yet professionals bear the obligation to moderate that impulse—slowing judgment, preserving uncertainty, and resisting the temptation to fit complex individuals into simple partisan tales. By merging public reflex with professional framing without sufficient evidence, the result is premature certainty and distorted understanding—treating isolated personal collapses as episodes in coordinated political campaigns.
The framing of violence matters because it directs policy and public response. If the problem is primarily seen as escalating partisan violence, responses focus on political fixes like platform regulation, network investigations, and elite rhetoric changes. These are important but incomplete. If instead the root cause is widespread individual collapse amid a polarized, weaponized society, then interventions must include public health strategies, gun access reduction, social resilience building, and media practices that avoid glorification and premature motive assumptions. Without this dual approach, efforts risk addressing the symbol while missing the patient.
In sum, Politico’s coverage of the Kirk killing exemplifies the current national reflex: early political labeling, gathering authoritative voices to confirm a rising trend, and framing the event within a broader curve before fully grappling with the attacker’s biography. A more balanced approach requires holding two frames in tension—scrutinizing political systems and rhetoric, while centering the profound individualized collapse that often underpins these attacks. Only then can we move toward a nuanced understanding and effective response.
NEXT POST
Part II: Ideology as Costume and the Cult of Martyrdom
Manifestos, social media posts, and online rants are seized upon as evidence of motive. But scratch a little deeper, and ideology begins to look less like the root cause of violence and more like a costume—a borrowed script attackers use to make sense of their own collapse.