The United States in 2025 is witnessing an alarming acceleration of violence, both in scope and context. From political killings to public altercations, the normalization of violence has seeped into areas that would have once felt unthinkable. The killing of Charlie Kirk in September 2025 is a tragic but telling example of this trend. It’s not an isolated incident. Rather, it exists within a continuum of violent acts over the past decade that reveal a deeper cultural problem: the erosion of unconditional empathy and the normalization of selective moral consideration. To understand why these acts are not random but symptomatic, we must examine the broader context of American social and political life over the past several years.
Take, for instance, what happened in 2022 at the Oscars, when Will Smith slapped Chris Rock. On the surface, this incident might appear trivial in comparison to lethal violence or politically motivated attacks. Yet it illustrates the growing acceptance of public violence as a response to perceived offense or insult. Millions of viewers watched as a public figure physically assaulted another in a setting designed for celebration and civility. Many debated whether Smith’s action was justified or reprehensible, but the act itself reflected an underlying trend: society increasingly sees retaliation as an acceptable, even moral, response when feelings are hurt or perceived boundaries are crossed. The episode revealed how quickly public norms around civility and empathy can erode under the pressures of emotion, fame, and social approval.
Earlier, in 2017, Richard Spencer—a white nationalist—was punched in the face during a public event. The assault sparked intense debate. Some viewed it as an act of justified resistance against hate, while others saw it as a troubling sign that violence had become a tool for silencing opposing ideologies. Regardless of opinion, the act highlighted a critical issue: when empathy is conditional, when some individuals are deemed undeserving of moral consideration because of their beliefs or actions, violence begins to feel justified. The attack on Spencer did not emerge in a vacuum; it was part of a culture that increasingly sees enemies as less than human, and therefore as permissible targets of aggression.
Similarly, Andy Ngo, a journalist often targeted by leftist groups, was attacked with a milkshake during a protest in 2020. Though less severe than fatal violence, this incident reflects the same underlying dynamic. The act was not just a prank; it was a public attempt to humiliate, to assert power, to communicate dominance over someone perceived as an ideological adversary. Conditional empathy underpins such actions: Ngo’s humanity was secondary to the social or political objectives of his attackers. Empathy, in other words, was rationed according to alignment with a moral or political framework.
Then, in 2020, the world witnessed the tragic killing of George Floyd by a police officer—a systemic act of violence rooted in institutional racism, negligence, and the normalization of dehumanization. Floyd’s death sparked global protests and a moral reckoning, yet it also reinforced the idea that conditional empathy can be deadly. When certain groups of people are routinely denied basic moral consideration—treated as lesser, expendable, or disposable—violence is more easily rationalized. Floyd’s killing was an extreme manifestation of a culture in which empathy and compassion are conditional, meted out selectively, and denied to those society has already deemed unworthy.
The same year saw Kyle Rittenhouse fatally shooting protesters during a tense confrontation in Wisconsin. While Rittenhouse claimed self-defense, the event underscores how ideological alignment can shape perceptions of violence. Supporters framed him as a defender of property and community, while critics emphasized the fatal consequences of his actions. Here again, conditional empathy is evident: one person’s life is valorized, another’s endangered, and the moral calculus shifts depending on politics, context, and social perception.
The attack on the U.S. Capitol on January 6, 2021, further illustrates the escalation of political violence. What began as a protest turned into an assault on the very institutions meant to uphold democratic governance. Participants justified their actions with ideological convictions, treating law enforcement and legislators as adversaries rather than fellow citizens deserving of empathy. Conditional empathy, in this case, was not merely an individual moral failing—it was a collective phenomenon, amplified by political rhetoric, media framing, and social networks. Dehumanization became a social and political tool, enabling acts of violence that would have been unthinkable in a society rooted in universal compassion.
In 2025, the summer killings of two Minnesota lawmakers exemplify the ongoing pattern. Political figures themselves are no longer insulated from violence; the escalation has reached spaces once considered safe and sacrosanct. The normalization of selective empathy, coupled with increasing political polarization, has made public servants targets not just for ideological disagreement but for lethal action. When society teaches that some individuals are inherently less deserving of consideration or life itself, violence ceases to be an anomaly—it becomes a predictable outcome.
Finally, the killing of Charlie Kirk in September 2025 is part of this trajectory. Kirk’s death shocked the nation, but it should also prompt reflection on the broader cultural and moral dynamics at play. The act did not happen in a vacuum; it is connected to a decade-long pattern in which violence is increasingly normalized, dehumanization is amplified, and empathy is treated as conditional. Kirk’s politics, like Spencer’s or Ngo’s, were used by some to rationalize disregard for his humanity—a stark illustration of why selective empathy is so dangerous.
These incidents reveal a larger societal problem: conditional empathy fuels cycles of violence, dehumanization, and moral justification for harm. When empathy is meted out selectively, individuals or groups deemed undesirable, wrong, or objectionable are implicitly declared less than human. Violence then becomes an extension of this moral calculus, whether it manifests as a slap at the Oscars, a protester being shot, or systemic police brutality. Each act may differ in scale or context, but they are linked by the same underlying principle: conditional moral consideration erodes the social bonds that prevent violence.
The consequences are profound. When empathy is conditional, people internalize the logic that harming others is justified if they are “bad enough” or ideologically opposed. Media, politics, and cultural narratives reinforce this mindset, glorifying acts of retaliation and punishing deviations from social norms. Childhood lessons, like “stand up to your bully,” prime individuals to see morality in transactional terms: only those who behave correctly are worthy of understanding. When magnified at the societal level, this creates a culture in which violence is normalized, predictable, and often excused.
Breaking this cycle requires a fundamental shift: radical empathy. Radical empathy refuses to ration compassion based on ideology, behavior, or perceived moral worth. It recognizes the inherent humanity of all individuals, even those who harm us, even those we might consider adversaries. Radical empathy does not preclude accountability or self-protection; it does not demand passivity or acceptance of injustice. Rather, it provides a moral framework in which acts of harm are responded to with reflection, strategic intervention, and, when possible, understanding rather than mirrored aggression.
Radical empathy is not merely a philosophical ideal—it is a practical tool for societal stability. In a context where violence is escalating unpredictably, recognizing the humanity of all parties, refusing to dehumanize, and modeling compassion can disrupt cycles of retaliation. It can prevent minor conflicts from spiraling into public altercations or lethal outcomes. It can inoculate society against the ideology that some people are unworthy of life or moral consideration—a logic that underpins authoritarianism, mob violence, and systemic oppression alike.
Personal experiences illustrate how radical empathy can exist even in the most challenging circumstances. Many of us have been bullied, marginalized, or harmed in ways that would make retaliation understandable, even socially approved. Yet choosing understanding over revenge, choosing kindness over harm, reflects a moral discipline that counters the cultural conditioning toward conditional empathy. It is precisely this approach—embodied in figures like Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., and countless everyday individuals—that offers a pathway to disrupt the escalating cycles of violence we see today.
The trajectory of violence in the United States over the past decade underscores the stakes. When acts like the Charlie Kirk killing, the Rittenhouse shootings, George Floyd’s murder, or the January 6th insurrection are viewed in isolation, they shock. But when considered collectively, a pattern emerges: a society increasingly comfortable with dehumanization, increasingly tolerant of selective empathy, and increasingly accepting of violence as a response to ideological, personal, or social differences. This trajectory is neither inevitable nor irreversible, but reversing it requires widespread adoption of radical empathy—both as a personal ethic and a cultural principle.
In conclusion, the past decade’s escalation of violence in the United States, culminating in high-profile events like the Charlie Kirk killing, illustrates the dangers of conditional empathy. From childhood lessons about bullies to media glorification of retaliation, from political polarization to systemic injustice, society has consistently reinforced the logic that empathy can be rationed. But that logic is corrosive. It normalizes harm, dehumanizes individuals, and perpetuates cycles of violence. Radical empathy, grounded in the recognition of universal humanity, offers a path forward. It does not eliminate accountability or justice, but it provides a moral foundation capable of resisting retaliation, reducing harm, and breaking the destructive patterns that have increasingly defined our social, political, and cultural landscape.
Now, more than ever, the United States—and the world—needs a commitment to radical empathy. Every act of unconditional understanding, every refusal to dehumanize, and every extension of compassion is not just a personal choice; it is a political and social intervention. It is a way to prevent the next escalation, to honor our shared humanity, and to assert the principle that violence should never be normalized, regardless of context, ideology, or perceived moral worth. The examples of the past decade are stark reminders of what happens when empathy is conditional. Radical empathy is the antidote, the moral imperative, and the practical solution that our society desperately needs.