Defending Free Speech: A Response to Crisis

The assassination of Charlie Kirk on September 10, 2025, at Utah Valley University shocked the nation, casting a stark light on the fragility of free speech in what feels like an era of  unprecedented division. Kirk, a Christian and conservative advocate, was gunned down while exercising his right to speak, sparking polarized reactions: creating a shift on the political right demanding new hate speech laws, while others defend unfettered expression as a cornerstone of liberty. 

This tragedy reveals a deeper crisis; as government censorship, self-imposed or community-driven silencing, and threats to Christian witness undermine the constitutional, biblical, and libertarian principles that define a free society. It’s important that freedom loving individuals make their voices heard at a time like this, otherwise the reactionary response will be worse than the tragedy for civil liberties. 

Drawing on history and a Christian worldview, we must oppose coercive restrictions, hate evil while loving enemies, and foster voluntary dialogue to preserve the marketplace of ideas.

Government censorship has long threatened individual liberty. Censors justify their immoral laws often by fear. The Smith Act of 1940, which criminalized advocating the overthrow of the government, exemplifies this danger. During the Red Scare, it silenced political dissent, as seen in Dennis v. United States (1951), where the Supreme Court upheld convictions despite vague applications. The later Yates v. United States (1957) narrowed its scope, but the precedent of state overreach lingered. Notably, the Smith Act’s reach extended beyond communists, its earliest victims included Trotskyists and later, far-right isolationists like Robert Edmondson, whose anti-war pamphlets and nationalist rhetoric landed him in the infamous Great Sedition Trial of 1944.

Edmondson, a financial journalist turned isolationist and outspoken antisemite, was indicted alongside dozens of others for allegedly conspiring to undermine the U.S. war effort. Though never convicted, the trial, plagued by procedural chaos and ideological confusion, exposed how the Smith Act blurred the line between dissent and sedition. Edmondson’s reputation was irreparably damaged, not only by the charges but by his own propagation of hateful rhetoric. His case illustrated how fear-driven legislation can be weaponized against voices across the political spectrum, including those espousing views that are morally reprehensible yet still protected under the broad canopy of free speech. The episode remains a cautionary tale about the fragility of civil liberties in times of national crisis. Whether leftist or right-wing, the real casualty was the freedom to question power without being branded a traitor. 

Today, Kirk’s assassination has reignited calls for hate speech laws, with figures including President Trump urging investigations into “left-wing groups.” Such proposals risk repeating history’s errors of weaponizing fear to justify censorship and violating the First Amendment’s ban on content-based restrictions. As Brandenburg v. Ohio (1969) affirmed, speech may only be curtailed when it incites imminent lawless action. Yet even this standard, while protective, may be historically naïve. The Founders themselves used fiery rhetoric—Paine, Henry, and Jefferson—to stir revolutionary fervor that led to armed resistance. Punishing even vile expressions, even the grotesque cheering of Kirk’s death, breaches the non-aggression principle by invoking state force to suppress God-given liberty (Genesis 1:27). Christians and libertarians alike must resist this coercion, defending a government limited to its ordained role (Romans 13:1–7), not as moral arbiter, but as protector of peace and justice.

As tensions continue to rise, Attorney General Pam Bondi announced that the Justice Department would “absolutely target” individuals engaging in hate speech, a stance that further blurs  the line between protected expression and prosecutable offense. Her remarks extended to private businesses, including threats of prosecution against an Office Depot employee who refused to print memorial posters for Kirk. While Bondi later clarified she meant speech that “crosses into threats of violence,” her initial framing sparked backlash, even from conservative commentators, who warned that such rhetoric undermines First Amendment protections. Ironically, Kirk himself had previously affirmed that “hate speech does not exist legally in America,” underscoring the tension between honoring his legacy and expanding state power.

Community-driven censorship, though not state-enforced, is equally insidious. In the 1830s and 1840s, Southern communities suppressed abolitionist literature through vigilante actions, such as the 1837 destruction of Elijah Lovejoy’s printing press, and postal refusals to deliver anti-slavery materials. Fear of slave rebellions drove this social coercion, silencing dissent without formal laws. Modern parallels abound: after Kirk’s death, individuals faced firings over social media posts deemed insensitive, reflecting a culture of conformity. 

In 1835, Amos Dresser, a theology student from Oberlin College, was arrested by a Nashville, Tennessee, vigilance committee while selling anti-slavery literature. Lacking formal legal authority, the committee sentenced him to a public whipping of twenty lashes for possessing and distributing abolitionist tracts. Dresser later recounted in a letter to The Liberator: “I was whipped like a felon, not for any breach of law, but for the expression of opinion.” This example illustrates how community-driven coercion, fueled by fear, can suppress dissent more brutally than state action, echoing modern risks of social silencing post-Kirk.

This story is a chilling example of how community-driven censorship, fueled by fear and enforced through social violence, can suppress dissent even more brutally than the state. It echoes the dangers of modern firings and reputational destruction for unpopular speech. 

While some defend these modern actions as expressions of free association, they come dangerously close to crossing into coercion, violating the non-aggression principle when social pressure becomes a punitive force. True liberty demands more than legal restraint; it requires cultural tolerance for dissent, even when that dissent is uncomfortable.

On platforms like X, users increasingly self-censor to avoid reputational backlash, stifling open discourse before it begins. This reflects a deeper libertarian concern: that coercive social norms, though not enforced by the state, can still undermine voluntary association and free expression. When fear replaces freedom, the spontaneous order of the marketplace of ideas collapses. Truth no longer emerges through honest exchange, but is curated by cultural gatekeepers. Libertarians and Christians must resist this drift toward silencing, championing dialogue over dogma and ensuring that even controversial voices are heard, not because they are agreeable, but because liberty demands it.

Protecting Christian witness is central to this fight. Kirk’s bold, faith-based advocacy often drew accusations of “hate speech” for addressing moral issues. Scripture calls believers to speak truth graciously (Ephesians 4:29) and defend faith gently (1 Peter 3:15). Yet, Psalm 97:10 urges us to “hate evil,” defined not as persons but as spiritual forces and actions like violence or censorship (Ephesians 6:12). Matthew 5:44 further commands us to pray for enemies, including those pushing restrictive laws or even Kirk’s suspected assassin, Tyler Robinson. 

This balance—opposing evil while loving individuals—aligns with the libertarian non-aggression principle, rejecting coercion against persons while defending liberty. Christians face growing risks, as gospel proclamation is mislabeled divisive, inviting state or social censorship. Kirk’s death warns of the consequences when Christian voices are targeted. Believers must speak boldly, pray for adversaries, and engage voluntarily to counter harmful ideas, modeling Christ’s redemptive love.

The Supreme Court has not always protected free speech. In Schenck v. United States (1919), it upheld convictions for anti-war speech under the Espionage Act, using a flawed “clear and present danger” test that enabled state coercion. Similarly, Dennis v. United States (1951) prioritized anti-communist fears over liberty. Later rulings, like Brandenburg v. Ohio (1969) and Texas v. Johnson (1989), corrected these errors, limiting restrictions to imminent threats. 

Yet, dissenting opinions in Citizens United v. FEC (2010) favoring broader regulation signal ongoing risks. These missteps underscore the libertarian warning against state power encroaching on individual freedom, a lesson for today’s hate speech debates post-Kirk.

The founding era offers a model of robust free speech. Pamphlets like Thomas Paine’s Common Sense didn’t just critique monarchy—they fueled revolution, tolerated even when they stirred unrest. Patrick Henry’s cry of “Give me liberty or give me death” was no metaphor; it was a rallying cry for armed defiance. The Alien and Sedition Acts of 1798, which punished anti-government speech, were widely opposed and allowed to expire, affirming the Founders’ commitment to liberty, even when speech provoked upheaval. In contrast to modern sensitivities, this vision encourages us to resist restrictive laws and social silencing that have emerged in Kirk’s wake, thereby preserving open dissent as a precious inheritance.

If we empower the state to define and punish “hate,” we must recognize that biblical truth is already being labeled as bigotry in cultural and legal arenas. Today’s protections become tomorrow’s persecutions, not hypothetically, but historically. Christians must resist the temptation to swing the pendulum in the opposite direction, using state power to silence opposing views. Liberty is not preserved by trading one form of coercion for another. Instead, we are called to speak truth boldly, love sacrificially, and engage freely, trusting that the gospel’s power lies not in cultural dominance, but in redemptive witness. In Kirk’s wake, let us defend the freedom to proclaim Christ without fear, and refuse to become what we once opposed.

Kirk’s assassination demands a response rooted in principle. Government censorship violates limited government and the First Amendment. Community censorship can undermine voluntary association and the spontaneous order of ideas. Christian witness, balancing truth and love, faces threats from misapplied “hate speech” labels. Libertarians and Christians must oppose evil, while praying for enemies (Proverbs 15:1, Matthew 5:44). We should engage through letters to legislators and public forums, fostering dialogue over division. Kirk’s legacy and the Founders’ vision call us to defend free speech as a bulwark against tyranny, ensuring liberty and truth prevail.