A day has passed since he was shot at an event, in front of a couple of thousand people who came to hear him speak and debate. I believe his wife and children were also present. I can only imagine what they are going through right now. While I don’t share their obvious religious devotion, I am sure that their faith is helping them through this unimaginable horror.
So I’ve been thinking about Charlie’s murder for a day and a half now. It’s really troubling me — more than I thought it would. What does his murder say about our society?
I have never listened to one of Charlie’s podcasts or watched one of his shows, although I’ve caught bits and pieces that inevitably pop up on social media from time to time. I did search up Charlie’s reactions to the South Park episode that made fun of him. He took it exactly how I thought he would — he laughed at the satirical take on him.
Charlie was trying to make a difference. He spoke from conviction, from principle, and from love. He believed in what he was doing, and he lived it. And yet, despite acting from noble ideas, he was silenced in the most violent way possible. He was murdered.
It seems that we have reached a point where ideas — or the people who voice them — are no longer debated but attacked. Online, we’ve all seen it: arguments abandoned for insults, facts dismissed, reasoning ignored, and then there’s “cancel culture.” It’s more insidious than we often admit. When silence replaces speech, when attacks are tolerated, encouraged, or even applauded, what does that say about where we’re headed as a society?
How do we respond to Charlie’s murder? I’ve seen some abhorrent things on social media in response. Really sick and disturbing stuff. Some people are very vitriolic disguised as virtuous.
It’s interesting that some of the lighter jokes that were made — which I wouldn’t normally mind, or even find funny — I found upsetting. Weird.
I don’t want fear or anger to dictate our response. I don’t want to see more restrictions or knee-jerk government intervention, and I certainly don’t want violence. But I do want a return to the sensible. Speech is action; withholding your thoughts out of politeness or fear leaves the cultural field to others.
I’m unsure of what the lesson is here. But it may be this: we need to speak. Thoughtfully. Principled. Persistently. And yes, maybe conservatively — in the sense of preserving what works: freedom, responsibility, democracy, respect for life and dignity.
In my experience, being considered, conversational, and questioning works far better than lecturing or finger-wagging. It invites engagement, not defensiveness. It’s how Charlie approached it. And isn’t that what real discourse is supposed to do?
Another question, when looking more broadly: what holds society together when ideas conflict and passions run high? I think it comes down to principle and moral grounding. For me, that guidance is partly found in Christianity — not as a magical answer, but as a framework for ethics, responsibility, and community. Without some shared understanding of right and wrong, what fills the vacuum? Noise? Division? Extremism? False religion?
Democracy itself works best when people take responsibility: for themselves, their families, and their communities. Governments should protect freedom and property, and intervene only where people cannot act for themselves. Free markets. Voluntary participation. Accountability for actions, words, and thoughts. Isn’t that the society we want to leave for the next generation?
Charlie’s death could be a catalyst. A moment to reflect, to speak, to act. Or it could fade into outrage and noise. Which will it be? How we respond, what we say, and how we engage is up to us..
I hope that remembering Charlie Kirk reminds us that thoughtful speech, courage, and principle matter more than ever. And that we carry forward Charlie’s lessons of conviction, responsibility, and love in everything we say and do.
