The Most Unexpected Thing I’ve Learned From the Charlie Kirk ‘Apocalypse’
Charlie Kirk’s assassination sent shockwaves around America and online.
Ten days later, as I write this post, the social and traditional media landscape is still infused with discussion and debate about Kirk – about his beliefs and the fallout from his tragic death. This Christian MAGA activist is now a household name not just in the US, but around the world.
And so, I suggest Kirk’s death is something of an ‘apocalypse’ – an ancient Greek word for ‘unveiling’, or ‘revelation’. By his death and the people’s response to it, Kirk has pulled back the curtains and revealed something about the state of America and much of the Western world.
There are several such ‘revelations’ worth exploring, including just how siloed our societies are. Or how the Whitehouse is responding to people (such as Jimmy Kimmel) who make comments critical of Kirk. Or why Kirk’s death became front and centre among so many around the world.
But for me, the most surprising revelation from this ‘apocalypse’ was the idea that we need to argue more. That’s according to American author and social analyst Yuval Levin:
We need more disagreements with other people about politics, not less.
In a recent article, Levin writes:
Americans [and I would add, much of the West] are divided, but not in the way most people imagine. When we say we are divided, we often mean that we disagree too much and have too little in common. In reality, Americans don’t disagree nearly enough. Even most politically engaged people don’t actually spend much time in active disagreement with people who have different views. We spend most of our time cocooned away with people we agree with, talking about those terrible people on the other side, but rarely actually talk to those people.’
Why is this siloing a problem? Levin continues:
This feeds the common misimpression that disagreement is a mark of civic failure, and that the very existence of people who don’t share our goals and priorities is a problem to be solved.’
Levin goes on to argue that traditional institutions like Legislatures, courtrooms and universities (‘properly understood’) exist to facilitate argument between citizens, but in a ‘constructive’ way.
Whereas the ‘digital partisan cocoons’ are not there to facilitate disagreement, but to facilitate division.
How?
The problem is not disagreement per se: it’s disengagement by our living in different realities
If you’re on social media, you’re being sifted by AI algorithms into different echo chambers that shape your view of reality.
You’re fed content that engages your emotions (often your negative emotions). And this content confirms and affirms your biases and beliefs – by telling you how ridiculous and bad the other side is. Often, Levin argues, such content caricatures other people and their views.
And so, we start to see reality differently from many of our fellow citizens. As political philosopher David T. Koyzis points out:
Many of the battles in the political realm are shaped, not simply by the refusal of one side or another to ‘face facts’ or ‘be reasonable,’ as one typically hears, but by differing views of reality rooted in alternative worldviews.’[1]
(So for example, when I hear conflicting accounts about the person and beliefs of Kirk from the Right and the Left, I’m left wondering if we’re talking about the same person).
This is leading to siloing and disengagement from those who think differently. We don’t bother engaging with others who think so differently to us. But this disengagement is corrosive to a healthy society:
Healthy democracies need (good faith) disagreements
It’s worth quoting Levin again:
“As long as the reason of man continues fallible, and he is at liberty to exercise it, different opinions will be formed,” as James Madison bluntly put it. To eliminate disagreement from a free society you’d have to eliminate the air we breathe, and that would obviously be a cure much worse than the disease. The purpose of politics is not to solve the fact that people who disagree with us exist, but to solve shared, concrete public problems in light of that fact.
Democracies need (healthy) disagreement to function. It’s how we come to a common mind (at best) or acceptable compromises on the problems that need solving.
But how do we disagree well with people living in different realities? How can Christians model good faith engagement with others who think differently from them (whether within the Church, or outside the Church)?
If we’re to engage well with people who think (radically) differently from us, we need to think more about ourselves and less about them (yes, really).
The more I read and reflect on what it looks like to engage well with people who think differently from me, the more I’ve become convinced that I need to think more about myself, and less about the other person.[2]
Or, to put it in perhaps less controversial terms, I need to focus more on myself and my actions, and less on the other person and their actions.
Here’s what I mean.
Think about the last time you were in an argument. Perhaps a heated disagreement with a spouse, colleague, or a stranger on social media. What was going through your mind? It was probably something along the lines of:
‘I can’t believe they think this. Don’t they know that [x,y,z]? They’re deluded!’
Chances are, you were emotional and fired up. The other person was talking nonsense (at least in your view), and you were ready to put them in their place.
So, in that exchange, who were you focused on?
You were probably more focused on the other person and their perceived shortcomings, rather than on yourself. You were feeling upset by their beliefs/words/actions.
If we’re honest with ourselves, our behaviour in such interactions is driven by various demands we place upon the other person: we might demand that they change their views. We might demand they not post such an opinion. We might demand that they stop discussing their beliefs. We demand that they believe and behave in a certain way that pleases us – or else (we write a nasty comment/unfriend them if they don’t meet our demands).
Now, let me ask you this: are such demands reasonable? Or are they selfish?
I would argue that demanding that a person believe/speak/act according to what we want (or else) is the very definition of selfishness.[3]
(Now, sure, we might like it if they thought differently. But a ‘like’ is different from a demand).
Ok, so what would the Bible have us do? Who does the Bible want you to focus on in such exchanges?
Here’s the Lord Jesus:
‘Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?’ (Matt 7:3-5).
Or the apostle Peter:
‘Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble. Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult. On the contrary, repay evil with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing.’ (1 Peter 3:8-9)
Notice who the Bible call you to be focused on in the above passages: is it you, or the other person? That’s right, you’re to be more focused on you and your behaviour than on the other person’s behaviour. And such ‘self focus’ is a consistent theme throughout Scripture (once you see this, you can’t unsee it).
And so, imagine this interaction:
You see something inflammatory on social media about Charlie Kirk.
But rather than jumping in with a comment, you focus on yourself by asking a question like:
How can I be God-honouring in this interaction? What would godly engagement look like?
As you ask this question and come up with a Spirit-inspired answer, something happens to you:
You start to calm down.
You approach the person differently, with less anxiety. Less emotion. Less judging. But more curiosity. And thus, more respect.
Because you focus more on yourself and your behaviour, rather than the other person and their shortcomings, you’re able to engage in a way that doesn’t erode the relationship. But instead, upholds the other person’s God-given dignity. [4]
Even as you disagree with them.
Whatever your view of Charlie Kirk, he was committed to friendly (if robust) dialogue with people who disagreed with him.
And if our Western democracies are to survive, let alone thrive, we need to do the same.
[1] David T. Koyzis, Political Visions And Illusions – A Survey and Christian Critique of Contemporary Ideologies (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2003), 8.
[2] This idea is based on Family Systems Theory, a secular understanding of how people act in family systems – and other relationships. For more on this, I recommend the books Scream Free Parenting and Scream Free Marriage by Hal Runkel, Everything Isn’t Terrible by Kathleen Smith, or Growing Yourself Up, by Jenny Brown.
[3] Of course, there are exceptions. It’s right that we demand people don’t abuse us. Or hurt our loved ones etc. But these aren’t the issues we’re dealing with in political disagreements.
[4] For more information on this approach, read my article series, "The Dying Art of Disagreeing Well."
Social media photo: Courtesy https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Charlie_Kirk_%26_Donald_Trump_(53067467229).jpg