Do We Really Have Free Speech: The Assassination of Charlie Kirk
Disclaimer: The following article examines sensitive topics such as political violence and free speech through historical and philosophical lenses. The analysis is interpretive and does not represent legal conclusions or endorsements of any actions or beliefs discussed.
On the 10th of September, college students at the Utah Valley University witnessed a scene that was nothing short of macabre. Charlie Kirk – a name repeated countless times in the past week – was shot and subsequently killed while debating a student on the matter of mass shootings. The event was the kickoff for his ironically named "American Comeback Tour", a series of these same debates across the country. The bullet came from a sniper rifle positioned on a nearby rooftop, approximately 142 yards (or 129.8 metres) away. Now, as usual, the attack was filmed and promptly posted on social media where the public quickly chose a side and started demeaning the other – not to be misanthropic, but it's nothing atypical of traditional society. That said, the event itself and what came next ultimately revealed the truth on human nature, and the paradox that arises when we try to propagate free speech but condemn censorship.
Photograph: Trent Nelson/Getty Images
Unpacking the Wake of The Killing
In order to set up my later argument, I want to touch on the aftermath of his death briefly. As we know, there was intense discourse that surrounded either of two topics:
a) political violence: years of inflammatory rhetoric has created an environment where violence is inevitable (this then led into further discussion surrounding democratic and republican values.
b) free speech and censorship: Kirk was practicing the first amendment, in which he had the right to express his values, beliefs, religion, etc without any form of repercussion and/or government censorship – the latter of which he approached with insouciance considering his unwavering support of the Trump administration.
The most obvious form of suppression that Kirk faced was direct violence, he was shot of course, but that was inexorable. The first amendment only legally sheltered Kirk from government redaction, something he didn't have to worry about in the first place, whereas public resistance was a whole other thing. Anyone can have an armed personal security team and police on-site, but that alone doesn't protect them from those who are vehemently opposed to what they believe in. It didn’t protect him from alleged shooter, 22-year-old Tyler Robinson, who scaled a building overlooking the venue and fired the fatal shot. In a country so constitutionally protected, the presence of this kind of violent suppression should be rare. But it isn't.
The Blame Game
You see, as humans, we tend to shift the blame to various groups, and we saw this happen throughout the country. People started accusing the ones they were culturally bred to oppose: the democrats, the republicans, the Jews, the Muslims, the Americans, the Chinese, it's an evolutionary trait – a synthesis of something called the 'attribution bias' and 'self-serving bias'.
Attribution Bias: Attribution bias is the tendency to explain someone else’s behaviour by their character or disposition, while explaining your own behaviour by the situation. (e.g. If another driver cuts you off, you might think, “They’re a reckless driver.” If you cut someone off, you might think, “I didn’t see them because of the sun.”).
Self Serving Bias: Self-serving bias is the tendency to take credit for your successes but blame external factors for your failures. (e.g. If your team wins, you say, “We played really well.” If your team loses, you say, “The referee was biased” or “The weather was bad.”). In Charlie's case, it's quite evident that this is happening – Governor Cox "prayed for 33 hours that it wouldn't be one of us". One of whom? An American? A republican? A Utahn white male? Funnily enough, the assassin was two of those things, and his family was the third.
Now this isn't a insult to any race, political party, religion, values or beliefs. This is just one example of the many flaws that present themselves when we, as a society, demand absolute consistency in our values and actions. Such demands often expose contradictions between our ideals and our behaviour, leading to paradoxes that are difficult to reconcile.
Chris Samuels | The Salt Lake Tribune
Parallels in History
The year was 1793, and France was gipped by turmoil. The monarchy had fallen, King Louis XVI had been executed, and the nation was engulfed in the chaos of the revolution. It was a warm, sunlit afternoon in Paris on the 13th of July. Jean-Paul Marat, sat in his bathtub, and sought relief from a painful skin condition that plagued him daily. Suddenly, Charlotte Corday, a young woman from Normandy, entered under the pretence of delivering urgent news. She approached Marat, who welcomed her as he did many petitioners. Without warning, Corday drew a knife and plunged it deep into Marat’s chest. The water turned red as he cried out and quickly succumbed to the wound. Corday stood resolute, as she had successfully executed her plan to silence one of the Revolution’s most influential, but controversial voices.
Jean-Paul Marat was a Swiss-born radical revolutionary who drove the French Revolution's most violent phase. He was best known for his newspaper titled 'L’Ami du Peuple (The Friend of the People), where he denounced “enemies of the revolution” by name and urged action. When the term 'action' is used it means a literal death sentence – his mob would target these people which resulted in brutal murders like the September massacres. He used it to mobilise the sans-culottes (working class), attack royalists (supporters of the monarchy), moderates (revolutionaries who wanted reform, but not through extreme measures), Girondins ( a political faction), and ultimately pressure the National Convention.
Corday was, like many assassins, fuelled by a motive. She believed that by killing Marat, she could halt the tide of revolutionary violence that was sweeping through France. She believed she was committing a righteous act of censorship to prevent greater harm.
Through the eyes of a consequentialist, Marat's cause (overthrowing tyranny, alleviating urban poverty, expanding political participation) had noble aims, but his methods were often brutal and he was undeniably a primary agitator in the violent slaughter of his opposition (some of which consisted of innocent citizens and moderates). Albeit, following his death, he was hailed as a martyr, and public mourning turned into revolutionary fervour. News of his murder spread through Paris and many saw his death as an attack on the Revolution.
Charlie fought for change that was equally important to Marat's, and both were seen by their assassins as figures whose words were transforming the country in a dangerous way. And though many people either disliked him, disapproved of his ideas, and/or loathed the Party he stood with, the majority of those who knew him were ultimately united by a shared sense of humanity. No one, no matter how good, how bad, liberal, conservative, American or not, should have to be shot in the neck in front of hundreds of innocent college students, and possibly even (hasn't been confirmed) his wife and two kids.
But we also need to peer through the lens of Tyler Robinson, more particularly his motive. Corday's motive was somewhat conspicuous – she wanted reform in the sense that France would stop bloodshed. Her plan fundamentally backfired, as Marat was eulogised as a hero, which led to more murder, and more chaos. Analogously, Kirk was praised, and Robinson condemned.
As mentioned earlier, Tyler came from a more conservative, Republican background. He mentioned in a text exchange that his father was "pretty diehard MAGA" since Trump's election. His mother told police that he had become more liberal, strangely swaying away from his family’s beliefs – perhaps a reflection of how exposure to new ideas and perspectives, especially online, can challenge one’s worldview. In the texts between his himself and his roommate, we are able to identify the thought that spurred him: "I had enough of his hatred. Some hate can’t be negotiated out."
Some Hate Can't Be Negotiated
In his 1859 book On Liberty, John Stuart Mills explores the notion of 'the marketplace of ideas'. This is the core of our thesis: the concept states that the best way to find truth is to allow all ideas – good, bad, true, false, offensive, and noble – to be expressed and compete freely in the public sphere.
Analogy: Imagine a real marketplace, like a farmers’ market, where sellers offer different products and buyers choose what they like best. In the 'marketplace of ideas,' the 'products' are opinions, beliefs and arguments, and the 'buyers' are everyone in society. When people are free to share these 'products', or ideas, without any form of censorship, then eventually the good ideas will surface over the weaker ones – just like how a superior product will eventually win out in a free economic market.
The most important part of Mills' idea, is that even weak ideas have some value and should be 'sold' in this marketplace. Why? Because any idea, no matter how weak or strong, has some grain of truth in it, and by presenting it, makes the original sharper, more clearer.
Now in the case of Robinson, he doesn't reject this, but instead, believes that Kirk's rhetoric is so toxic, that it shouldn't be sold in the first place. He saw Kirk's preaching as rotten, even poisonous, that if the public were to consume it, others wouldn't have a chance at theirs, or that the whole essence of the marketplace (that all ideas are of equal value), would dismantle.
The typical tool for challenging these weak, or disagreeable ideas in the marketplace is through debate, or as Tyler puts it, negotiation. But where he errs is in thinking that violence is the answer to wipe off the idea from the marketplace, to eradicate it for good. In a sense, he does reject the idea of the marketplace, he feels that it has failed, that others' ideas didn't have a fair chance of debate with Kirk's or that Kirk's was genuinely so virulent, that Tyler himself had to 'save the marketplace'.
Tyler's 'defence' is also quite interesting. Our traditional view of speech and action is divisive: "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me." Here, there is a clear line between harm caused by physical violence and oratory, that physical violence is much more capable of causing greater harm, than mere words ever could. The only time where speech does cross the line is when it is direct incitement for violence (e.g a mafia boss ordering a hit).
However, as society evolved, we began to apprise the realistic effect of violent rhetoric. Our view now, holds that dehumanising language, hate speech, and rhetoric that targets marginalised groups inflict harm. This harm can be psychological (trauma, fear), social (making it impossible for a group to participate freely in society), and can create a climate where physical violence is inevitable (Kirk's death). Speech, in this sense, is not a precursor to violence; it is a form of violence.
So Tyler could justify the killing, using this framework, as if he defines Kirk's speech as a form of violence, then he is merely defending those that Kirk opposes. This logic then shifts the entire dynamic. It disregards what the form of violence is and argues that violence must be met with superior violence to suppress it. Of course, this is wrong, as it conflates speech and physical violence, and ignores the principle that ideas should be confronted with dialogue, not force. Resorting to superior violence to suppress speech undermines the very marketplace of ideas that exists to test and refine beliefs through reasoned debate.
Tyler sought to censor Kirk permanently – we could call this the assassins's veto.
To understand the assassin's veto, we need to understand the Heckler's Veto:
Heckler's Veto: This occurs when a speaker is prevented from speaking because the audience's reaction (booing, shouting, protesting) is so disruptive that the speech cannot continue. In effect, the heckler's protest has "vetoed" the speaker's right to be heard. It is a form of censorship by mob rule.
Meaning, Tyler has attempted to use the heckler's veto in perpetuity, therefore, the assassin's veto. The assassin has such profound contempt for the democratic process of dialogue that they refuse to even let their opponent participate. They are exercising a unilateral veto, not just over a single speech, but over all future speeches, thoughts, and arguments the person could ever make. Corday vetoed Marat, Robinson vetoed Kirk.
And now we reach the paradox of tolerance. Karl Popper first introduces this postulation in the 1945 book, The Open Society and Its Enemies. Popper argued that if a society is endlessly and completely tolerant, its ability to be tolerant will eventually be seized and destroyed by the intolerant. A tolerant society has the right to self-preservation. This means that if an intolerant society refuses to engage in rational debate, then tolerant society has the right to suppress them with force if necessary. However, this requires someone to decide who the intolerant society is, if they're refusing debate, and if they're using force. Normally, a society or group of people would undertake this burden, however, Tyler does it himself. He decides that Kirk is the intolerant force that must be subdued.
Whether he has the right to do this is not a matter of discussion through the medium of a single individual, this question along with the many others raised through this issue is something for the state, country, perhaps even the world to reflect on.
Tyler Robinson appointed himself judge, jury, and executioner in the marketplace of ideas. He is the conclusion to Popper's paradox. But his actions force us to ask ourselves: Where do we draw our own line? If we believe some hate cannot be negotiated out, what tool are we willing to use instead? The assassin provides one answer. Our challenge is to prove with our own speech and our own tolerance for difficult debate, that his answer is, and always must be, wrong.