The Danger of Repetitive Demonization

How labeling Republicans and conservatives as fascists, racists, Nazis, and authoritarians incites public violence.

After a tragedy, the left always tells the right to cool it with the heated rhetoric, or the killings will continue – but it isn’t the right doing the heated rhetoric. Right now, Democrats are on television shifting blame to the victim as Matthew Dowd last night saying, “…hateful thoughts lead to hateful words, which then lead to hateful actions” after describing Kirk as the “…most divisive, especially divisive younger figures in this, who is constantly sort of pushing this sort of hate speech or sort of aimed at certain groups.”

I never heard Charlie Kirk issue “hate speech” – only uncomfortable truths that the left denies. They couldn’t win debates with him, so one of them killed him.

In today’s polarized political climate, the repeated and illegitimate labeling of Republicans as fascists, racists, Nazis, and authoritarians has become a common tactic in public discourse. While political rhetoric has always been heated, the relentless repetition of such inflammatory terms risks more than just division - it can incite public violence, particularly among emotionally disturbed or mentally compromised individuals. Psychological mechanisms like the mere exposure effect, illusion of truth, and emotional triggering, combined with cognitive vulnerabilities, create a dangerous recipe for radicalization and violent action.

The mere exposure effect suggests that people grow more accepting of ideas they hear repeatedly, even if those ideas are false or exaggerated. Constantly branding Republicans as fascists or Nazis - terms associated with extreme historical atrocities - normalizes these labels in the public psyche. For emotionally unstable individuals, this repetition can transform political disagreement into a perceived moral battle against an existential threat. The illusion of truth further compounds this, as repeated exposure to these terms makes them feel credible, even without evidence. Someone with impaired critical thinking, such as those struggling with anxiety or psychosis, may internalize these labels as fact, viewing Republicans not as political opponents but as dangerous enemies who must be stopped at all costs.

Emotional triggering plays a critical role in this process. Terms like “racist” or “Nazi” evoke intense emotions - anger, fear, or moral outrage - that can overwhelm rational thought. For mentally compromised individuals, who may already grapple with heightened emotional sensitivity or distorted perceptions, these labels act like gasoline on a fire. Repetition amplifies this effect, creating a feedback loop where the individual feels increasingly justified in extreme responses. For instance, someone with paranoid tendencies might interpret repeated claims of Republican authoritarianism as a call to “defend democracy” through violence, believing they’re acting heroically against a tyrannical threat.

Confirmation bias also plays a role. Emotionally disturbed individuals may already harbor distrust or anger toward certain groups, and hearing Republicans repeatedly vilified as fascists or racists reinforces these preconceptions. This can push them toward radical actions, as they seek to align their behavior with the narrative they’ve internalized. Historical examples, like the 2017 Congressional baseball shooting, where a gunman targeted Republican lawmakers after consuming anti-Republican rhetoric, illustrate how such messaging can translate into real-world violence. While the shooter’s mental state was complex, the incident underscores how inflammatory rhetoric can resonate with unstable individuals, nudging them toward extremism.

Social proof and authority bias further exacerbate the risk. When media outlets, influencers, or political figures repeatedly use terms like “Nazi” or “fascist,” they lend these labels a veneer of legitimacy. For those with compromised mental health, who may struggle to question authority, this can create a sense of moral obligation to act against the “threat.” The 2020 riots, where polarized rhetoric on both sides fueled violent unrest, show how repetitive demonization can spiral into chaos, with vulnerable individuals often caught in the crossfire of escalating tensions.

This is not to say that political critique should be stifled. Republicans, like any group, must face scrutiny for their actions and policies. However, the reckless overuse of extreme and false labels risks dehumanizing entire swaths of people, fostering a climate where violence feels justified.

To mitigate this, public discourse must prioritize precision over hyperbole. In interviews and debates, definitions and the basis for terms used must be demanded. If someone alleges someone is X, the first two questions in follow up should be “Why do you say that? What are some examples?”

Words have power, and when wielded carelessly – or deliberately as deception - they can turn ideological battles into physical ones. By tempering rhetoric and addressing the vulnerabilities of those most susceptible, society can avoid the dangerous consequences of repetitive demonization. In the same way videogames desensitize players to death and injury, this repetition does the same.

The murder of Charlie Kirk is what happens when the fascists, racists, and Nazis you are fighting aren’t fascists, racists and Nazis at all.