Following along as the details emerged in the killing of UHC executive Brian Thompson, it was hard not to get swept up in its cinematic nature. There was the setting: a popular Manhattan street just before sunrise. The target: a powerful figure in a notorious industry. There was the silencer, the bullets with "deny," "defend" and "depose" written on them in marker, the escape by bicycle through the park, the backpack full of Monopoly money, the five-day manhunt with only a few unconfirmed and grainy pictures to work from. The killer's ability to evade capture in a time of ubiquitous surveillance only added to the mystique.
But at the same time that there was fascination with (or horror over) the killer's methods, there was also the rush by writers, social media posters, and news outlets both big and small to unravel motive and assign incentive based on speculation about the individual's political persuasion. By the time the now-alleged killer was apprehended at a McDonald's in Altoona, Pennsylvania, and identified as Lugi Mangione, a 26-year-old software developer, who you thought or feared the killer might be was just as likely a reflection of your own personal politics as it was an interpretation of available information.
This phenomenon is not strictly new or novel. But now that we do have more information about who the alleged killer is, what his apparent motive was (thanks to the obligatory manifesto), and what his politics might be (based on his digital trail), what's most striking is how this new information compares with that of the two would-be Trump assassins.
Similar to Mangione, both the Butler, Pennsylvania shooter, Thomas Matthew Crooks, and the alleged golf course shooter-in-waiting, Ryan Routh, inspired intense speculation about their politics that would eventually conclude without much clarity. Crooks was only 20 years old, a registered Republican, a gun enthusiast, and had given $15 to the Democratic-aligned group ActBlue; he left no clear indication of political radicalization. Routh was no fan of Trump, but also suggested in social media posts and in a post-arrest letter to a Politico reporter that he was disgusted with both parties, was an independent (decidedly not a Democrat) and was frustrated with "gridlock in Congress" — a mixed bag, politically speaking. Details regarding Magione's motivations are still being uncovered, but, from what we know of his upper-middle-class upbringing, Ivy League education and, as journalist Max Read discovered from typologizing his Twitter account, his "relatively benign techno-stoicist-declinist politics" recognizable "to anyone who works in tech or frequents a gym weight room," its hard to piece together the makings of a radical political extremist of either the left or the right.
What, if anything, the seemingly muddled politics of the alleged killers or would-be killers says about the current moment is debatable — killers, of course, do not have to be politically inspired, nor are they often renowned for their rational thinking. But given the high level of planning required for each attack combined with the profile of the target, it's hard not to view each as a political act, even if the politics behind them might be more directional than ideological. In other words, more about effect than ideas.
As we continue to transition from the television era to the internet era, how we understand or interpret politics is destined to change. In the 1980s, culture and media critic Neal Postman showed how TV was changing our politics by reorienting political discourse around the demands of entertainment. How the internet is today changing our expectations of politics is still being determined, but if television conditioned us to value entertainment above all else, the internet's sacred cow is attention — and unlike entertainment, that which is attention-grabbing does not need to make sense.
After being shot by Crooks, a bloodied Trump, surrounded by two Secret Service agents, an American flag hanging in the background, pumped his fist at the sky and shouted, "fight!" The moment, captured by a photographer at the scene, is sure to be one of the enduring images from 2024 and possibly the Trump era. But fight who? Or what? That only matters if you're still trying to figure out the plot.
Elsewhere, Emine Yucel confronted MAGA Republicans on the Hill about their party's plans to gut the social safety net, Josh Kovensky and Hunter Walker attended The New York Young Republicans Club's annual black tie gala (Manhattan's most MAGA political club) where Hunter found he was on a journalist watch list and given his own minder, and Josh Kovensky went inside the plot to write birthright citizenship out of the constitution.
Looking for a break from politics? Josh Marshall has some thoughts on the new Bob Dylan biopic.
And on the podcast, Kate and Josh discuss Democrats' vote against AOC's bid for a more prominent role, the great capitulation of the CEOs and Biden's acts of mercy.
TPM Weekly will be on break for the holidays. Thanks for reading and see you next year!
-Derick D.
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