Societies are defined not by what they preach, but by what they tolerate.
For most of my life, I took the stability of our civil society for granted, as I think most Americans did, unaware that our entire system was held up by an unwritten social law: a nation and every one of its institutions and communities are ultimately defined not by what they preach, but by what they and their leaders tolerate—because whatever is tolerated is eventually normalized.
Until recently, the most non-negotiable boundary of that law was absolute: the open cheerleading of political violence and eliminationist hate was strictly barred from polite society. But when public revelry erupted after October 7, and again in the wake of Charlie Kirk’s assassination, with limited institutional backlash, it became brutally clear that our leaders have abandoned this guardrail. By responding with passive, post-facto platitudes against violence while ignoring constituents who actively cheer it on, they allow the unthinkable to become routine, and our social fabric to disintegrate in the process.
Though we first experienced the shock of this reality on October 8, 2023, for me the realization only crystallized in the wake of Charlie Kirk’s murder. Across social platforms and campuses, a vocal contingent of young Americans openly celebrated his death. Hundreds of public instances were documented almost instantly, echoing the revelry following Hamas’ atrocities and the lionization of Luigi Mangione after the killing of Brian Thompson. And while some individuals faced swift professional consequences—proving that civil society still knows where to draw the line when sufficient social pressure is applied—the broader, more corrosive dynamic remained unaddressed.
This failure was on full display when, hours after the shooting, Senator Bernie Sanders released a video declaring that “political violence is not the answer and must be condemned.” I was struck to see so many figures across the political spectrum praising his message, when all I heard was a passive truism that cost him nothing. Real moral leadership requires establishing a forward-looking behavioral boundary: “Anyone who endorses, stokes, or cheerleads political violence crosses a line that will not be tolerated in polite society or within our movement.” Sanders failed to confront the radical elements in his own orbit who had spent months pushing stochastic threats and were actively cheering the assassination.
If an institution tolerates the daily endorsement of violence and extreme bigotry, a generic press release issued after blood is spilled—no matter how heartfelt—will never deter extremists. Words spoken after the act, condemning only the act, do not dismantle the permission structure built before it. You cannot circle the wagons around everyone except the lone gunman while shielding those who explicitly enable him. Adhering to universal moral guardrails that unequivocally oppose political violence and eliminationist hate must be the price of admission to public life, and the non-negotiable condition for ongoing membership in any institution or community that wishes to remain part of polite society.
By holding our own political and tribal allies and leaders accountable and refusing to excuse those who sanitize eliminationist hate, we can maintain the baseline decency that keeps civil society intact.
In our hyper-partisan era, political violence is not a failure exclusive to one side of the aisle. Threats originating from the right and the left must be unequivocally rejected. But as Noah Rothman details in Blood in Progress, American history reflects a recurring pattern where left-wing violence—and the rhetorical environment that nurtures it—is more systematically sanitized by left-leaning media and institutions. Dehumanizing rhetoric establishes the baseline conditions; then, when an attack occurs, hyper-partisan logic reframes murder as understandable radicalization, preemptive self-defense, or the isolated action of an unhinged lone wolf.
More frighteningly, this pipeline is being sanitized directly into mainstream politics today. In Michigan’s Democratic Senate primary, candidate Abdul El-Sayed actively campaigned alongside Hasan Piker, a streamer with millions of followers who has repeatedly engaged in violent rhetoric, downplayed the atrocities of October 7, and praised terrorist organizations like Hamas and Hezbollah. When party leaders refuse to draw a hard line, the establishment shields the candidate, the candidate buffers the extremist, and the cheerleading of violence is laundered into the mainstream. When party figures who had previously criticized El-Sayed’s appearances with Piker fell in line after his primary victory, they completed that laundering process, treating the accommodation of eliminationist rhetoric as a minor compromise.
This marks a dangerous retreat from standards forged during the civil rights era, when American society established that explicit bigotry was socially unacceptable. That collapse became undeniable after October 7, 2023, when open celebrations of mass murder and terror spread unchecked across elite university campuses. Hatred directed at the Jewish community is rarely self-contained; historically, it is the leading indicator that civil guardrails are breaking down, lowering the threshold for political violence across the board.
Drawing these boundaries was once considered a baseline duty of leadership. When William F. Buckley, Jr. systematically excommunicated the John Birch Society from National Review in the 1960s, or when Bill Clinton delivered his “Sister Souljah moment” in 1992, they recognized that cheerleaders of hate-inspired lawlessness destroy a coalition’s credibility from within. Historically, it was precisely this cross-ideological consensus—backed by the threat of total social and political ostracization—that broke the power of the Third Klan and drove explicit bigotry to the margins of American life.
Re-establishing these boundaries is not a call for government censorship, but for self-policing cultural standards. Those standards have no teeth when leaders substitute hollow calls for peace in place of the hard work of imposing real social ostracism on those who lay the rhetorical groundwork for violence.
Crucially, taboo enforcement must not devolve into a punitive cancel culture driven by subjective interpretations of intent. It requires assessing a person’s full history and their reaction when confronted. That is why taboo enforcement must maintain an “open door” principle: the goal of a social taboo is accountability, not permanent exile. Those who engage in or sanitize explicit calls for violence must face immediate consequences, but they must also have a clear path back to polite society if they genuinely disavow the rhetoric, apologize, and execute public repair. This concept of teshuvah—repentance and rehabilitation—is essential. We have seen former Klan members, jihadists, and political extremists break out of radical movements and become our most credible advocates for deradicalization, earning their way back to honorable roles in public life.
These guardrails must be applied universally, beginning with our own tribes. Without the discipline of in-group self-critique, taboo enforcement collapses into partisan deflection. When left-leaning figures were criticized for celebrating Charlie Kirk’s murder, the immediate instinct was to point across the aisle to right-wing extremism. But retaliatory deflection only accelerates normalization. The only principled response must be: “This celebration of violence is unacceptable in our movement, or anywhere in polite society.”
While the current climate feels bleak, there is reason for optimism. Although surveys show an uptick in young people expressing tolerance for political violence, these views remain confined to a fringe. The vast majority of Americans abhor violence and the eliminationist hate that inspires it, even if some find excuses to defend it. Our media ecosystem and polarized academic environments distort our perception, convincing us that our neighbors are mortal enemies. But that perception is a collective illusion that doesn’t reflect reality. By holding our own political and tribal allies and leaders accountable and refusing to excuse those who sanitize eliminationist hate, we can maintain the baseline decency that keeps civil society intact.
