The Rush to Judgment

When Charlie Kirk was assassinated during a college speaking event, the internet exploded with immediate explanations, accusations, and tribal battle cries. Within minutes of the shooting, prominent voices were identifying suspects, assigning motives, and declaring entire political movements responsible. The rush was breathtaking - and completely predictable.

In our hyperconnected age, the person who waits for facts before forming opinions has become a radical. The careful thinker who says "I don't know enough yet" is treated as spineless, while the knee-jerk reactor spouting certainties about events they know nothing about is celebrated as having "taken a stand."

This inversion of intellectual virtue represents one of the most dangerous trends in American discourse. We've created a culture where having an immediate opinion matters more than having a correct one.

The Pressure to Perform Certainty

Michael Liebowitz experienced this pressure firsthand when the Kirk shooting occurred. A longtime friend called demanding he "take a stand" on events that had just unfolded. When Michael explained he didn't know enough details yet, the friend grew frustrated and eventually hung up, later posting on social media that anyone who disagreed with his immediate hot takes could "defriend me right now."

This interaction reveals the psychological dynamics driving our rush-to-judgment culture. Taking an immediate position serves multiple functions: it signals tribal loyalty, demonstrates that you "care enough" to react, and provides the psychological comfort of certainty in an uncertain world. The person who waits appears uncommitted, uncaring, or worse - intellectually wishy-washy.

But as Michael noted, "A principle that I follow whenever big events happen is I keep my mouth shut until I know what the hell is going on. I wish more people would do that."

This principle isn't cowardice or indifference. It's intellectual courage.

The Libertarian Influencer's Mistake

Consider what happened with a prominent libertarian influencer who, within minutes of the shooting, posted detailed assumptions about the detained suspect. He claimed to know the suspect's age, political affiliations, media consumption habits, and motivations - all while the man was later released without charges.

The post read: "This boomer, who believes everything the television says to him, and who probably obeyed every useless COVID measure because he thought it was keeping people safe, just shot Charlie Kirk for holding opinions."

This single sentence contains multiple layers of assumed knowledge:

• That this person was the shooter

• His age demographic

• His media consumption patterns

• His COVID behavior

• His political motivations

• 
  

None of this information was available. All of it was invented to fit a preferred narrative.

The Ecosystem of Instant Expertise

The rush to judgment isn't random - it's systematically incentivized. Social media rewards quick, confident takes with engagement. Being first with an explanation, even a wrong one, generates more clicks than being right but late. The attention economy has created a perverse situation where accuracy is less valuable than speed.

"It doesn't matter what reality is showing," Mark Pellegrino observed, "it matters what they think and feel about it."

The result is a media landscape filled with confident assertions based on minimal information, where admitting uncertainty is treated as a character flaw rather than intellectual honesty.

The dynamic becomes even clearer when examining how misinformation spreads. Take the viral story about a Scottish girl brandishing a knife and hatchet, which was amplified by figures like Elon Musk and Tommy Robinson as evidence of immigrant men threatening local children.

The actual facts, available to anyone willing to look them up, were quite different. A 12-year-old girl in Dundee was involved in a street confrontation with a Bulgarian couple. She was charged with possession of offensive weapons. Both the man and woman were also charged. Police found no evidence supporting claims of sexual assault or threat. The person filming stated he never touched the girls and wasn't an asylum seeker.

But the corrected version received a fraction of the attention of the initial inflammatory narrative. The lie traveled around the world while the truth was still putting on its shoes.

Why We Rush

The rush to judgment serves psychological needs that facts cannot. It provides:

1. Tribal Identity: Taking the "correct" position immediately signals which team you're on. Waiting for facts suggests dangerous independence.

2. Control Over Chaos: Uncertain events create anxiety. A quick explanation, even a wrong one, provides psychological relief from the discomfort of not knowing.

3. False Moral Certainty: Complex situations are harder to process than simple good-versus-evil narratives. The rush to judgment often involves forcing events into pre-existing moral frameworks.

4. Social Belonging: Sharing the group's immediate reaction strengthens social bonds. Being the person who urges caution can feel socially isolating.

These are understandable human impulses. But understanding them doesn't make acting on them wise.

The Real Cost

The rush to judgment doesn't just produce bad information - it corrupts the entire process of discourse. When we've already decided what happened and why before investigating, we're not seeking truth; we're seeking confirmation.

This creates a feedback loop where each side retreats further into information silos that confirm their immediate assumptions. The person who shot Charlie Kirk becomes a symbol rather than an individual with specific motivations. The Scottish girl becomes a political prop rather than a child in a complicated situation.

Mark Pellegrino captured the fundamental issue: "People in these tribes feel a sense of identity by being anti-right or anti-left, and that becomes their identity, not the truth."

When tribal identity trumps truth-seeking, discourse becomes impossible. You can't reason with people who have already decided what the facts are based on which team they support.

In this environment, intellectual patience becomes a radical act. Saying "I don't know enough yet" challenges the entire system of instant expertise and tribal certainty.

This patience isn't passive - it's actively seeking information while resisting the pressure to form premature conclusions. It means asking questions like:

• What evidence supports this claim?

• What alternative explanations exist?

• What don't we know yet that might change our understanding?

• Who benefits from this particular narrative?

Michael Liebowitz demonstrated this approach when examining the Scottish girl story. Rather than accepting or rejecting the viral narrative, he looked up the actual facts from multiple sources, compared them to the social media claims, and presented the discrepancies clearly.

This is how rational discourse works: you gather evidence, consider alternatives, acknowledge uncertainties, and adjust your position as new information becomes available. It's a process, not an event.

Rebuilding the Habit of Inquiry

The solution isn't to eliminate all immediate reactions - some situations do require quick responses. But we need to rebuild the cultural habit of distinguishing between what we know and what we assume, between reacting to events and understanding them.

This starts with recognizing that uncertainty is not a character flaw but an accurate description of the human condition. Most of the time, when big events happen, we don't immediately know enough to have strong opinions about causes, meanings, or solutions. Admitting this isn't weakness; it's honesty.

It continues with valuing the people who urge caution over those who provide instant certainty. The friend who says "let's wait and see what we learn" is providing a more valuable service than the one who immediately knows exactly what happened and why.

And it requires accepting that in a complex world, simple explanations can be wrong. The person who commits an act of violence could have complicated motivations that don't fit neatly into our preferred political narratives. The viral story that confirms all our assumptions probably contains significant distortions.

The Choice

We face a choice between two models of intellectual life. 

In one, having an opinion quickly is more important than having it correctly. Certainty is more valued than accuracy. Tribal loyalty trumps truth-seeking.

In the other, intellectual patience is a virtue. Admitting uncertainty demonstrates strength rather than weakness. Facts matter more than feelings, even when the facts are inconvenient or incomplete.

As Michael noted, "What evidence do you have for that? Because you're making a claim... but what evidence is there... we have to take the evidence and adjust our viewpoint as the situation materializes."

This isn't just about individual intellectual virtue - it's about the health of discourse itself. A society that rushes to judgment on everything will eventually lose the ability to make sound judgments about anything.

The radical act isn't taking a quick stand. It's taking the time to make sure you're standing on solid ground.