Many decades before Charlie Kirk began his free speech campaign, college campuses were actually places of open inquiry and stimulating conversations that sparked lifelong friendships. In fact, conservative historian Daniel Boorstin dedicated his 1960s classic The Image to the University of Chicago as “a place of light, of liberty, and of learning.”
But by that time, universities had already begun degenerating into bastions of left-wing brainwashing where open inquiry is now almost nonexistent and anyone who questions the left-wing narrative faces ostracism. As university culture became increasingly anti-speech, it became patently anti-thought.
This growing darkness resulted in an epidemic of ignorance, misery, distrust, and loneliness. Students became “triggered” even by the suggestion that anyone could have a different (i.e., “fascist”) point of view.
Enter Charlie Kirk
Charlie Kirk cheerfully descended into the belly of that beast in his campaign to bring about a positive turning point in America, starting with youth. He entered the hell of college campuses to introduce students to the joys of open debate, inviting them to “prove me wrong” on any issue. For many students, it was a rare and entertaining spectacle. However, many were infuriated and “triggered” by his opinions. Many closet conservatives on campus were emboldened by his refreshing frankness and civility.
Thus, Kirk was in the process of unleashing a contagion of truth. In doing so, he was dismantling the very machinery that totalitarians must use to retain power: isolation and the fear of isolation.
I had the honor of talking to Kirk about that process when he offered me a segment on The Charlie Kirk Show to chat about my book, The Weaponization of Loneliness.
Kirk clearly had a keen understanding of how isolation is the most potent weapon in the arsenal of tyranny. He knew how the fear of ostracism leads to the misery felt by many of his challengers and supporters alike. And he deeply understood this key point: People need to have strong personal bonds — of family, faith, friendship, and community — to fend off the totalitarians who work to isolate people to control and terrorize them. People can’t function or even think clearly in the darkness of isolation. Kirk knew firsthand that personal bonds of love and trust give people the inner strength to resist tyranny.
This tyranny depends upon something I call the machinery of loneliness, which has three main components: identity politics, political correctness, and mob agitation. Together, they create the hostility to free speech that has long infected education and radicalized students. They build the illusion of a huge permission structure to silence people, especially when supported by media campaigns that demonize anyone who dares to question their toxic propaganda. Kirk instinctively understood that the machinery must be dismantled if we’re ever to rebuild a civil society.
Disabling the Machinery From the Inside Out
This three-legged stool of tyranny was allowed to fester for decades in all of our institutions. The all-pervasive media propaganda that supported it fed the fear of speaking one’s conscience at school, at work, and in our neighborhoods.
First, identity politics classifies us as villains or victims. This cuts off people’s ability to see one another as full and unique human beings. It’s a dehumanizing process that breeds isolation, ignorance, loneliness, and fear. Kirk wasn’t shy about his faith and his respect for the dignity of human life. He wanted all of his interlocutors to know that he saw them each as unique individuals in the eyes of God.
Second, political correctness defines what you can think, what you can say, and what you can believe. It reinforces the fear of free speech and induces self-censorship. Sure, many of us still whispered words of truth to those we trusted. Many Americans no doubt listened to Rush Limbaugh secretly, like Eastern Europeans huddled around Radio Free Europe during the Cold War. But Kirk was fearlessly public in his rejection of political correctness. He spoke his mind, civilly and respectfully, but, by God, he spoke his mind. He did so one on one and face to face.
Third, mob agitation aggravated that chaos, especially on college campuses. The mobs enforced our silence and conditioned many students to conform and comply with lies. Kirk took on the mob fearlessly and with a friendly spirit. He understood that the zombified mobs are composed mostly of lost souls.
Finally, the propaganda press nudged people deeper into a spiral of silence. Its talking heads demonized everything a normal human being longs for: a loving family, true faith in God, safe neighborhoods, respect for real learning, good cheer, a sense of common heritage, and limited government based on a Bill of Rights and constitutional governance. Over time, people associated with such values were increasingly ridiculed and shunned. As those voices receded in the public square, social distrust wormed its way across society. Kirk reintroduced these values and rekindled the youth’s natural longing for them.
Loneliness Breeds Zombification
As with any dangerous cult, too many universities became hostile to questions and hostile to thought. Thus, college students became atomized from one another, not daring to explore a politically incorrect idea.
Hence, a great darkness descended where once there was light. Some students became “radicalized,” probably because they didn’t know any other way to gain the acceptance of their professors and their reference group. Those who didn’t become fully radicalized happily gloated over Kirk’s murder, ignorant that anyone of influence would disagree with them.
But, in the end, they don’t really know what they believe. They can’t know. In the confusion of the ignorance cultivated on college campuses, many students lost the very capacity to think. In the words of Notre Dame Professor Patrick Deneen, even the best students became “know-nothings” because they had become so detached from their heritage, unable to recognize patterns, to understand consequences, and to reason effectively.
Into this dark web of ignorance stepped a joyful warrior of immense spirit and optimism. Kirk engaged students who thought they believed the propaganda narratives because that was all they had known. Many likely believed that even engaging any other line of thought would mean social death and the potential loss of the college credentials they needed to launch their careers.
Through open debate, Kirk exposed all these phenomena. As his challengers faltered in their explanations, he proved how easily people conform and falsify their beliefs to fit in. He shed light on the emptiness of the ideologies that tyranny depends upon to exist.
Kirk showed many didn’t really believe all that stuff they were “taught,” and they didn’t really know what they believed. How can you know what you believe until you thoroughly investigate what your adopted beliefs mean and where they come from?
You can’t. And Kirk knew this. So did his mortal enemies.
Shockwaves over the assassination of Charlie Kirk will reverberate in many ways for years to come. My hope — and the hope of everyone who seeks true light in a darkened world — is that we will eventually manage to dig our way out of the deep pit modern American society has dug for itself over numerous decades. It’s a tall order, but it must be done. We must keep pushing toward the light that beckons.
Charlie Kirk was so pro-thought that he always aimed to discern and share the ultimate Truth he knew would set us free. He understood himself to be a sinner saved only by the grace of Jesus Christ. He also recognized that speaking the truth — no matter how kindly — can get you killed. Indeed, the entire reason humanity crucified Jesus was because He spoke the Truth openly and didn’t back down. Still, Charlie took to heart Jesus’ words, “Be not afraid.” And so he died, following Christ’s example.
