What Charlie Kirk’s Death Should Teach Us

September 16, 2025

Link to Published Op-ed (Washington Examiner Subscription Required)

America feels broken. We see it in our politics, hear it in our conversations, and feel it in our communities. The assassination of Charlie Kirk is a tragic reminder of just how fragile our civic life has become. No matter one’s political views, his death crossed a line that must never be crossed. Violence is not debate, not protest, not even dissent. Violence is the rejection of democracy itself, and it should never be excused or tolerated.

Part of our problem is that we’ve lost the ability to separate words from weapons. Too often, speech is labeled as violence, as though disagreement itself were unsafe. That is a dangerous mistake. Words can be harsh, but they are also the tools of persuasion and change. When speech is treated as violence, debate becomes illegitimate, and the only alternatives left are silence or force. This confusion erodes the very ground on which free societies stand.

The rise of political violence is not happening in a vacuum. It is fueled by a deeper flaw: the way our national debates are structured. Today, nearly every fight, over education, health care, energy, culture, ends up on the same national stage. A country of 330 million people is pushed into one argument, as if a single answer could satisfy everyone. That was never the design. America’s strength was always its ability to hold together different states with different priorities. Our system allowed communities to govern themselves in many areas while still remaining part of a larger whole. We have forgotten that balance, and we are paying the price.

When every issue is nationalized, politics becomes brittle. Presidential elections start to feel like life-or-death struggles. Supreme Court confirmations become wars. Ordinary policy disputes become existential crises. The design of our system was supposed to spread out this kind of tension, giving states room to address questions in their own ways. Over time, though, authority has flowed upward. States traded independence for federal dollars, Congress yielded power to presidents and agencies, and citizens grew accustomed to demanding one sweeping solution for every problem. The result is that every disagreement becomes a zero-sum national battle.

Structure matters. A sound structure can withstand weak leaders; a broken structure will collapse under the weight of even the best. We spend endless energy on personalities, but what really sustains a republic is the way its power is organized. Right now, too much of that power is concentrated at the national level, and the strain is tearing us apart.

America will never thrive by trying to force everyone into the same mold. We are too big, too diverse, too rooted in different traditions. Attempts to impose uniformity only breed resentment. But unity is not the same as unanimity. Real unity is the choice to live together even when we disagree. It comes from respecting differences while holding fast to shared principles. That is what our system was meant to preserve; the freedom to be different without destroying the bond that holds us together.

The examples are all around us. Should decisions about school curriculum or parental choice really be made by officials in Washington, or should communities have the ability to shape education closer to home? When those debates are pushed to the national level, people feel helpless and angry. When they are decided locally, citizens can influence the outcome directly and even move to a community that reflects their values. Health care is another case. A one-size-fits-all program guarantees permanent conflict. Allowing states to try different approaches would turn disagreement into experimentation rather than division. Even on moral and cultural questions, the same principle holds. Why must every community live under the same rules when so many values differ across the country?

The consequences of ignoring structure are not just violent outbursts, though those are real and rising. The deeper cost is despair. People feel voiceless because decisions are made far away, by leaders they don’t know, in institutions they no longer trust. The Founders assumed that most governing would happen close to home, in states, counties, towns, and neighborhoods. The national government had important responsibilities, but limited ones. Today that balance has been flipped on its head, and Americans are left feeling powerless. Restoring balance would restore voice. It would give people back the sense that their choices matter and that politics isn’t just a distant spectacle.

The killing of Charlie Kirk should shock us into facing these realities. It is not enough to condemn violence while leaving untouched the structure that breeds such tension. We need to relieve the pressure on our national politics by giving more space to states and communities. We need to relearn the truth that speech is not violence, that disagreement is not destruction, and that living together does not require sameness.

The American story is still being written. The question is what the next chapter will look like. Will we continue to magnify every division until silence and violence are the only tools left? Or will we remember the wisdom of our design, that unity can be found not by erasing differences, but by making room for them?

The assassination of Charlie Kirk was a tragedy, but it can also be a turning point. If grief can teach, let it teach us this: violence is never the answer, structure matters, and the only way forward is to rebuild the system that allows us to live together in difference. The next chapter of our experiment is waiting. The choice is ours, and the time to make it is now.

Jason E. Thompson

Representative

Utah House of Representatives

Jason E. Thompson is an entrepreneur and public servant currently serving in the Utah House of Representatives and is a member of the Utah Federalism Commission. A former mayor of River Heights, Utah, Jason is passionate about promoting dialogue on the balance and structure of government and strengthening unity in local communities. Jason lives in River Heights, Utah with his wife, Dana, and their 6 children.