It’s been over a week since Charlie Kirk was assassinated in Utah, and seemingly every political writer has offered their thoughts. 

I agree with the sensible statements — that we must pursue civil discourse and that political violence is never acceptable. But I want to add a footnote: This is a story that cannot be fully understood without looking at the minds of young people.

Though I did not seek out Kirk’s viral “Prove Me Wrong” debates, I feel qualified to give my perspective because of my age and status as a college student, Kirk’s target audience. Moreover, less than a month from now, I will turn 22, the age of Kirk’s alleged murderer Tyler Robinson. 

At Northwestern, learning is one of my core values, and I do so in a tight-knit community in which everyone’s a short walk from me. But being 21 is scary because I realized that this is true for only a few more months. 

To figure out what I value and with whom I will share it outside of college, I signed up for Introduction to Philosophy and a discussion group at Hillel designed for seniors. Maybe Socrates or God has the answer as to what makes a good life.

I suspect that most people who have been this age have tried to answer this question.

What is unique about the pursuit of meaning today, however, is that the internet is the easiest place to look for answers. This fact unites the two men in our country’s latest incident of political violence — Kirk guided his audience of millions of followers to finding meaning, and while the world speculates about the political beliefs of Kirk’s alleged assassin, it is clear that he derived at least some meaning from his gaming habit and community on the social messaging platform Discord. 

I’ll start with Kirk, whose politics I disagree with. He proudly stated that the Civil Rights Act was a mistake and that abortion is worse than the Holocaust.

Not all of Kirk’s rhetoric was inflammatory, but a good deal of it was. The internet is a petri dish for such remarks. Studies show algorithms like YouTube’s favor extremism. It’s why, before doing research for this piece, I knew of only his most inane remarks — fed to me by the internet.

Kirk’s statements antagonized whole groups of people. But for those whose identities he didn’t belittle — I’d suspect young white men, in particular — he was a figure of authority who provided a moral framework. For these people, he was not only a political pundit, but a philosopher whose theories could be accessed from any screen.

He told people to find their purpose through God, to eschew hedonism and devote themselves to building families. Kirk once said in a speech, “What young people are screaming is, they say, ‘Give me a structure that I can live my life by.’”

For those who appreciated his advice, Kirk filled a void. Young people in the U.S. are unhappy and lonely. The 2024 World Happiness Report found that the U.S. was the least happy it had been since the survey started in 2012 and that the fall was “largely due to a precipitous decline in wellbeing among Americans under 30.”

A Financial Times report from January 2025 stated that young people are not only spending more time alone, but that this time was spent doing unfulfilling activities. It makes sense that young people want a new life framework right now, and Kirk was ready to provide it.

It is ironic, then, that Robinson is a 20-something white man who was often online, making him Kirk’s target audience. Based on his prolific internet use, I suspect Robinson also found meaning on the internet, albeit not from Kirk’s videos. 

Whereas other politically-motivated assailants leave manifestos, Robinson did not. Instead, we are left to piece together clues from his internet use. The fact that we are searching for a man’s rationale within online messages to friends demonstrates how much of his life was lived behind a screen, and how much that community meant to him. 

Governor Spencer Cox (R-Utah) said Robinson spent time in the internet’s “dark places.” The clearest sign of the internet’s effects on Robinson’s psyche were the messages he allegedly put on the bullet casings. Messages like, “notices bulges OwO what’s this?” are nonsensical, unless one is extremely well-versed in online meme culture.

Though the men stood on opposite sides of the rifle, their stories lead me to conclude that the internet is a dangerous place to derive significance. 

For the next generation of adults to be consuming discriminatory content regularly, or retreat to “dark places” on the internet, cannot be good for our country. 

I agree with Cox’s assessment that we should “log off, turn off [and] touch grass.” A man lost his life, maybe because one person did not. I am left wondering how much of Robinson’s disturbed ideology emerged from the time he spent online.  

I envision the precariousness of the internet to be like inhaling second-hand smoke — the effects are cumulative, nearly invisible and impossible to escape from unharmed. Cox’s advice is especially important for young people as we form our identities and decide what we value. 

I don’t know if Socrates or God holds the answers to how we make life meaningful, or what communities we should join to find that meaning. The only thing I know is that Discord and YouTube do not. 

Talia Winiarsky is a Weinberg senior. She can be contacted at [email protected]. If you would like to respond publicly to this op-ed, send a Letter to the Editor to [email protected]. The views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of all staff members of The Daily Northwestern.

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