For most of my life, political violence was rare.
The civil rights era brought German shepherds and water cannons to Selma; the lynching of Emmett Till; and the assassinations of President John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King Jr., Robert F. Kennedy and Malcolm X. When ideas emerged that Americans didn’t like, violence too often followed. But then things calmed. Despite being deeply unpopular, President Nixon wasn’t shot. Even the fiercest Supreme Court confirmation battles were verbal, not violent.
The last few years have been different. Shots were fired at President Donald Trump. An assassin hunted and killed Minnesota lawmakers the same weekend “peacekeepers” opened fire at the Salt Lake “No Kings” rally. Nancy Pelosi’s husband was beaten with a hammer in their own home. And now, Charlie Kirk.
The recent lethality of speaking publicly has me recalling my own encounters with the public square. Twenty-five years ago I had the privilege of working for Ward Connerly — at the time one of the most hated political figures in America. In a Sunday edition of the biting, insightful and hilarious cartoon “The Boondocks,” its author, Aaron McGruder, ended a strip with this line: “Ward Connerly should be beaten with a spiked bat.” Weeks later I attended a public forum by McGruder at Sacramento State University and asked how he justified that message, especially in a medium aimed at children.
I was one of maybe 10 white people in a packed ballroom. McGruder mocked me; the crowd jeered. As I walked out, I was afraid someone would jump me. No one did, but my fear was palpable. I’d published before, never fearing assault. But speaking up in a hostile room was new. Scary. Today I wonder if I do it again. Charlie Kirk’s assassination makes answering that question both more present and more difficult.
Last week, The Wall Street Journal published research showing that 44% of Gen Z are open to violence in response to ideas they oppose. That figure isn’t just high — it’s deeply disturbing, especially compared to just 7% of baby boomers, 14% of Gen X and 29% of millennials. So why is Gen Z so willing?
There are many crosscurrents, but I suspect a significant factor is that we haven’t modeled healthy disagreement. Colleges have shielded students from unfamiliar perspectives. Adults have equated words with violence and created “safe spaces” to protect students from the rough and tumble of conflicting ideas.
I worry that our desire to protect students taught them that words are violence. Words do leave scars — ask anyone consoling a heartbroken middle schooler — but they are NOT violence. Confronting unfamiliar ideas and people, even those we find repugnant, is a critical part of growing up. We cannot become mature humans if we’re unwilling or unable to wrestle with what’s unfamiliar.
But we haven’t modeled that wrestling. By sheltering and protecting students, we’ve left them ill-equipped to navigate the inevitable challenges beyond their carefully constructed cocoons. Seen from that perspective, it may be more surprising when they emerge open to new ideas than when they react with anger.
In a recent podcast, law professor David French shared a telling story. He showed his students a 2012 debate between Mitt Romney and Barack Obama. Their response? “We didn’t know they were friends.” Romney and Obama were respectful opponents, not friends.
These students’ formative years featured candidates who often portrayed the other as crazy or evil — think Donald Trump, Hillary Clinton and Joe Biden. In that light, it’s not hard to see why civility might be mistaken for friendship, why fringe elements in their generation might resort to violence, and why many might view violence as a legitimate response to ideas they find offensive.
If words are violence, if your family has been labeled part of Romney’s “47%” or Hillary Clinton’s “deplorables,” and if the high-profile political campaigns resort to vile name calling, then chances are you may not have seen many adults navigate ideological clashes with empathy, humility or a genuine desire to understand.
So, how do we step back from political violence? We must refrain from labeling people as evil or crazy. Students need to understand that good people often disagree — on important things. And that is good. We learn far more about ourselves, the world we live in and the world we aspire to by listening and wrestling with the unfamiliar than by shunning or denouncing it.
The crucible of education should equip students to curiously rove through the world; absorb what they encounter; and exercise judgment about what is good, better and bad. To accept that we know very little — and therefore be humble. In defense of truth, be kind. Because as the shift in our collective openness to political violence shows, we are much too willing to fight, too unwilling to listen and learn. And tomorrow, they will lead.