The Misdiagnosis of Targeted Violence
When a suspect was arrested for vandalizing the Ohio home of Vice President JD Vance earlier this week, public commentary immediately framed the incident as political extremism, reporting on the ideological affiliation and campaign donations of those related to the apprehended individual. But the reflex to interpret every high-profile act through a political lens misses what criminology has repeatedly shown: that while politics can shape the target of an attack, it does not always explain why it occurred.
The shooting of two National Guard members in Washington, D.C. on Nov. 26, 2025, shook the city and the nation. These Guardsmen were carrying out their duties when they were violently ambushed. As with the attack on Vance’s home, public debate quickly defaulted to political explanations, even before law enforcement could fully assess the suspect’s background, mental state, or potential motives.
We saw this same pattern play out after another high-profile attack. On Sept. 10, 2025, Charlie Kirk, the 31-year-old founder of Turning Point USA, was shot while speaking at Utah Valley University, a public stage that all but guaranteed national attention. Prosecutors charged 22-year-old Tyler Robinson with aggravated murder, backed by DNA evidence and his own online confession. To many, the killing seemed a grim symptom of America’s deep political division.
Polling conducted after Kirk’s death showed that 61 percent of Americans—across Democrat, Republican, and Independent lines—believed “extreme political rhetoric used by some in the media and by political leaders” played a major role in the killing, while only 28 percent attributed it solely to a disturbed individual. This cross-party consensus reflects a broader tendency to interpret targeted violence through a partisan lens. But criminological research and federal threat-assessment reports reveal a more complex picture: Far more often, these attackers are motivated by personal drivers—attention-seeking, resentment, or longstanding grievances—than by coherent political ideologies.
Understanding why this misperception persists requires understanding how targeted violence differs from everyday crime. Street offenders act impulsively—often for money, control, or survival—while targeted attackers view violence as a performance. They choose victims or locations for symbolic meaning, design a meticulous plan, and often will broadcast intent through digital posts or personal notes. Threat assessors call this “leakage.” While ordinary criminals seek immediate gratification, perpetrators of targeted attacks seek legacy.
The Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Behavioral Analysis Unit has long emphasized that most attackers display “noticeable, observable behaviors” well before they strike. Similarly, a National Threat Assessment Center analysis found that 75 percent of attackers showed concerning behaviors prior to their attacks. It also found that 51 percent of attackers were driven primarily by personal grievances and that nearly all had experienced at least one major life stressor in the year leading up to the incident.
In the case of the attack on VP Vance’s home, court records and prior arrests indicate the suspect had a documented history of mental health issues, was previously ruled incompetent to stand trial, and committed prior vandalism offenses—warning signs more consistent with grievance-driven behavior than organized political violence. And while ideological extremism remains a legitimate threat, data clearly show that behavioral indicators are the most consistent predictors of targeted violence.
History shows that many of the most notorious acts of targeted violence were driven less by belief systems than by a desire to be seen, remembered, and discussed. From the Columbine shooters, who meticulously choreographed their massacre to inspire others, to John Hinckley Jr., who shot President Ronald Reagan to impress Jodie Foster, many high-profile attacks have been driven more by the pursuit of fame or personal validation than ideology. Empirical studies confirm the “contagion effect,” in which extensive media coverage often precedes spikes in copycat incidents.
Hatred and resentment fuel a parallel pathway. On Sept. 28, 2025, in Michigan, a gunman driven more by accumulated bitterness and family turmoil than any clear ideology opened fire in a church, killing four people and injuring many others. General strain theory posits that when individuals lose access to legitimate success and positive relationships (or face repeated stressors), negative emotions like anger and frustration can spiral into violence as a desperate form of communication.
Behavioral evidence shows this dynamic repeating across ideologically labeled attacks. Timothy McVeigh wrapped anti-government terror in the rhetoric of liberty, but his correspondence reveals a deeper desire for relevance. Ted Kaczynski, the Unabomber, used philosophical arguments to justify a campaign rooted in isolation. Even Sirhan Sirhan, who assassinated Sen. Robert F. Kennedy, used political language while a newly declassified Central Intelligence Agency personality assessment indicates his attack stemmed not from a planned political motive but from an unpredictable emotional outburst similar to those found in domestic violence incidents. Overemphasizing ideology obscures the broader, more preventable human patterns behind these tragedies.
Nevertheless, political figures and commentators often frame such tragedies in partisan terms, conflicting with research that shows attackers are rarely members of organized movements. Personal grievances, mental health crises, and obsessions usually lie at the core of violent attacks—borrowing political language but barely rooted in ideological commitment.
Recent cases like Luigi Mangione’s killing of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson show how political language and personal grievances often blur. Mangione initially described his actions as “symbolic” resistance to corporate injustice, but his writings pointed to years of personal bitterness related to his health struggles. A New York judge eventually dismissed terrorism charges, acknowledging the ambiguous role ideology played.
A more effective approach is to treat targeted violence as a behavioral process. Threat assessments consistently show that most attackers signal their intent in advance. Schools, workplaces, and communities that deploy multidisciplinary threat-assessment teams—including law enforcement, educators, and mental health professionals—have already averted numerous attacks. Minnesota’s statewide initiative demonstrates how structured collaboration can identify and mitigate threats before they escalate, and a framework from the National Governors Association highlights evidence-driven protocols, coordinated response, and informed community engagement.
The media’s role is vital. When attackers’ names and photos lead broadcasts, their notoriety is amplified—thereby incentivizing audience-seeking offenders. The No Notoriety movement underscores how shifting coverage away from perpetrators can reduce copycat risk. Responsible journalism is violence prevention.
Technology compounds the challenge. Online platforms reward outrage, allowing grievance communities to form and intensify. Threat assessment must evolve to detect not only ideological networks but also signs of personal crisis. Tech companies could embed behavioral-warning tools like those that flag child-exploitation imagery or financial fraud to identify emerging threats earlier.
Accountability remains essential, but justice alone is not prevention. When society interprets every tragedy through a political lens, resources are diverted from early-warning systems that save lives. The attacks and killings differ in target but share a common origin: personal breakdown magnified by public attention.
If we want to reduce these acts of violence, we must replace reflexive polarization with observation. This means training communities to recognize warning patterns, urging media to consider the consequences of how they frame attacks, and building networks that treat social isolation as a legitimate public safety concern. Until then, fame, grievance, and hatred will continue to fuel America’s most destructive acts.