Not Left or Right: The Common Psychology Behind Political Attacks

Political assassinations and attempts in the U.S. don’t erupt from nowhere. They emerge from a predictable mix of grievance fused to identity, a quest for significance, cognitive distortions, and moments of opportunity, now supercharged by digital media that validate outrage in real time. The last year has made that painfully clear: the July 13, 2024 attempt on Donald Trump in Butler, Pennsylvania; the June 14, 2025 assassination of Minnesota House Speaker Emerita Melissa Hortman at her home; the September 10, 2025 sniper killing of conservative activist Charlie Kirk during a campus event in Utah; and the April 13, 2025 arson attack on Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro’s residence while his family slept. Each case is unique, but the psychology that makes extreme violence thinkable is strikingly consistent across targets and party lines.

The pathway typically begins with grievance: a humiliation, perceived betrayal, or moral injury that becomes the organizing principle of the self. As the grievance fuses with identity, the person’s world narrows into moral absolutism—“I am the one who must act”—and violence is reframed as a necessary corrective. This process is visible in recent cases: investigators describe fixated research on targets, pre-attack scouting, and methodical preparation, from impersonating police to gain access in Minnesota, to elevated positions and standoff weaponry in Utah, to a nighttime firebombing designed to corner a governor’s family. When systems fail (e.g., security gaps, poor information flow, or predictable routines), then fantasy can turn into capability.

Significance seeking intensifies the trajectory. For a minority of individuals, public violence appears to solve multiple psychological problems at once: it promises instant recognition, converts shame into stature, and offers a simple, “heroic” script to replace a chaotic inner life. Online echo chambers amplify the script, rewarding extreme claims and supplying models to imitate. After the Butler attack, federal and independent reviews emphasized how communications failures and aerial surveillance blind spots created opportunity. These insights now drive concrete reforms intended to raise barriers and reduce openings for the next would-be attacker.

Equally important is accuracy about mental illness. Some assassins act amid psychosis, but far more often we see a blend of rigid ideology, conspiratorial thinking, personality vulnerabilities (especially narcissistic sensitivity to insult), and acute stressors like job loss or isolation. Together, these factors produce all-or-nothing thinking, cherry-picked “evidence,” and moral disengagement, which dehumanizes the target, downplays collateral harm, and shifts responsibility elsewhere (“the system left me no choice”). Recent incidents cut across the spectrum: a Democratic legislative leader murdered at home, a Republican presidential candidate nearly killed at a rally, a conservative activist assassinated mid-speech, and a Democratic governor targeted by arson. The common denominator is not party affiliation; it’s the pathway to violence.

Prevention follows from that map. Treat threats as patterns over time, not one-off comments. Look for fixation on a person or cause, identification with violent actors, bursts of energy toward capability (weapon acquisition, site visits, rehearsals), and “leakage” in posts or messages. Build multidisciplinary threat assessment and management teams that can both harden venues and create exits from the pathway, such as timely mental health care, substance use treatment, structured problem-solving, and credible sources of meaning that don’t depend on spectacle. Align security practices with lessons from recent federal and state reviews, which translate hard-won insights into improved screening, communications, and air/ground protective measures at public events. The goal isn’t to “profile” an ideology; it’s to spot and safely disrupt the storyline before it reaches its violent climax.

In a tense national moment, the antidote is twofold. Reduce opportunity through thoughtful security and information-sharing, and compete with the attacker’s narrative by offering dignified pathways to matter, to be heard, and to get help. That pairing protects people on the stage, whether Democratic or Republican, while preserving the civic rituals that keep a democracy alive.