Political Division — A Critique and Open Conversation on the Assassination of Charlie Kirk

This article was written by a reporter with the USJ News Nest. Due to the sensitive nature of this topic, the News Nest has decided to keep this article anonymous. For any feedback, feel free to contact us at [email protected] 

A popular question on a college campus, or just for any college-aged student, is, “What’s your major?” This is often followed by, “How’s that going?” or “How is the work?” 

I usually answer the question the same way, quoting Jaden Smith, the artist behind the song  “Icon.” I tell people that I’m a political science major and that I write think pieces about the “political and economic state of the world right now.” 

For many political science majors, our responsibilities are constantly evolving. From learning the concepts and history of how politics shape our world to preparing for the future while living in the present, the experience looks different for every student. If you ask a political science student how they feel about the political and economic state of the world right now, you’ll get a variety of answers. The most common response, however, is that it feels overwhelming.

Every day, we wake up and find ourselves immersed in an increasingly negative and polarizing world. Shootings, recession indicators, attempts at global conflict, ongoing wars, and the Epstein files are all readily at our fingertips and often used as real world examples in class discussions and debates.

Some questions I find myself asking more often these days are: Has politics always been this polarizing? Has it always been this negative? Has it always served as a way to divide people and expose their true biases and feelings towards others?

To say that this increased level of division has only been seen since November 2024 is incredibly naïve. It stems back years earlier, to the era of 4chan and Reddit at their peak, before the level of internet monitoring that we have today.

The late 2000s, and early 2010s are not just nostalgia for many people; they mark the creation of the “manosphere” in which we know it today. 

The term “incel”, or “red-pill,” did not gain as much notoriety or a place to thrive until the 2016 election, when it entered the public light. 

Make no mistake, this is not a critical piece of the former, and now once again current president of the United States. Although his position in this conversation deserves discussion, let’s save that for another day. Instead, this is a critique and an open-ended question about the pillars of influencers who support this red-pilled community as they begin to gain influence in the political sphere.

Among the many influencers that we see on social media right now, Charlie James Kirk influenced many young men, much like himself, to join and vote in the interests of the Republican, and, separately, the MAGA movement. The distinction between the two should be understood because the critiques in this article focus more on the current effect of the latter and the future implications for the supporting fanbase of the former. 

Born Oct. 14, 1993, in Illinois, Kirk gained notoriety on social media through the content he created — he debated, and many would argue rage-baited, students who came to his stands on college campuses and asked his opinion on controversial topics. His responses often offended people, his popular quotes were widely condemned, and his lackadaisical approach to the deaths related to America’s gun control problem irritated many.

While doing what he was known for, Kirk stood before a group of students, faculty, and community members at Utah Valley University, debating students about gang violence and shootings in general, when he was shot in the neck from approximately 200 yards away. The incident traumatized another large group of people at the hands of gun violence. 

With that being said, Kirk is, if not the, then one of the influencers who successfully swayed young Gen Z men, particularly those ages 18 to 25, to vote predominantly conservative in the 2024 election. His work on social media and on college campuses made him a household name and a topic of discussion. Comparing the margins from the election after Nov. 5 to those from the 2012 presidential election, the conservative share of the younger vote has increased by 6% —  shifting from 60-37 to 54-43. This may not seem significant to many right now, but considering this group will be eligible to vote for the next 60 years or so, a 6% increase over the last decade is cause for reflection and analysis of how we got here.

Arguably, this topic resembles smoking. After learning the health implications of smoking and the many harms it causes, Gen Z and younger generations were expected to eradicate smoking from our social fabric. As we can see, that is no longer the case due to a pretty clever marketing strategy for vapes and flavored nicotine. The generation once on track to never smoke cigarettes, has now become one you cannot walk past without smelling Cotton Candy, Watermelon OG, or Sunrise Delight. Similarly, as the current conservative backlash rolls back many pre-established rights for those in minority groups, these red-pill arguments are designed to divide us on a social level. With someone of Kirk’s caliber dying at the hand of the same violence he publicly commended, two different responses have emerged: one framing him as a martyr — even naming him the “White MLK” for dying for his values — and another forcing people to see how inherently violent guns are. The uncensored version of his death circulated online minutes after he was shot, and firsthand descriptions detail the mic dropping from his hand and what looked like the life leaving from his eyes. 

In both of these responses, it is important to understand that this will affect the younger generations — from those in college to those now in K-12 — as our desensitization to gun violence will shape future legislation and the broader social culture we live in. Gaining significantly less coverage than the Kirk assassination was a shooting at Evergreen High School in Colorado, where the assailant injured three people before killing himself. Several factors explain why this school shooting received less coverage: school shootings occur far too often, the deaths of young children have become disturbingly normalized in the American mind, Kirk was a polarizing figure, and the graphic nature of the event was readily available online rather than rightfully hidden to protect the victims in school and mass shooting cases. 

The notion of naming him the “White MLK” is interesting because it frames him as being commended for dying for his views. However, the idea of him as a major martyr is weakened by the fact that his assassin was a college-aged Republican white man. As of writing (Sept. 12–13, 2025), Tyler Robinson was turned over to authorities by his family, who reported that he had recently become more politically engaged and expressed his distaste for Kirk. To be considered a martyr and killed by the same group one was thought to influence is not as strong an argument as some might hope.

With all of this growing information, one must consider what it means for the young men of this generation. Regardless of race, Gen Z men have become increasingly more conservative or apolitical, understanding that debates in Congress and the stripping of rights from minority groups may not affect them directly, but rather impact those around them. Yet in an era where some dismiss empathy as a “made-up, new age term that — [it] does a lot of damage,” it is difficult to envision how those who are not personally affected will vote for things that may benefit others and improve the overall quality of life in America.

This conversation is important, particularly when it concerns gun violence and politics, because those without empathy for victims often cannot fathom restraining themselves according to the social contract of  society. My heart goes out to anyone who has been victimized by the lack of gun restrictions we have in the U.S. I understand the fear of going to school without knowing if you will return home safely. Constantly planning an exit strategy, and for older siblings, prioritizing the safety of younger family members, even if it means losing your own life are thoughts that can feel dystopian — even more so when realized at age 11. The world clearly needs to change, and it begins with having hard conversations, as I implore you to do with your loved ones.