When Society Celebrates Murder: The Moral Crisis of the Mangione Case

On a cold December morning in Manhattan, Brian Thompson was shot and killed outside the New York Hilton Midtown hotel on December 4, 2024, at approximately 6:45 AM EST 🔷. Brian Thompson was the CEO of UnitedHealthcare at the time of his death 🔷. A husband. A father to two children 🔷. A human being whose life was ended by another human being with deliberate intent.

Five days later, Luigi Mangione was arrested in Altoona, Pennsylvania in connection with the shooting death of Brian Thompson 🔷. He was charged with one count of murder in the second degree, two counts of criminal possession of a weapon in the second degree, and one count of possession of a forged instrument 🔷. The evidence was substantial: a ghost gun, silencer, and fraudulent New Jersey identification were recovered from Luigi Mangione at the time of his arrest 🔷.

What happened next should disturb every person of conscience. Within 48 hours of his arrest, a GiveSendGo fundraiser for Luigi Mangione's legal defense raised over $100,000 🔷. Within less than two weeks, multiple crowdfunding campaigns for Luigi Mangione collectively raised over $1 million 🔷. One million dollars. For a man accused of murder.

But the money was only the beginning. The hashtag #FreeLuigi trended on X with over 500,000 posts 🔷. Merchandise including t-shirts, hoodies, and stickers featuring Luigi Mangione's image appeared for sale within days of his arrest 🔷, with some items bearing slogans like "Free Luigi" and "CEO Hunter" 🔷. TikTok videos using the audio "Free Luigi" accumulated over 50 million combined views 🔷.

This was not merely support for due process or the presumption of innocence—principles enshrined in the U.S. Constitution's Sixth Amendment 🔷. While providing financial support to criminal defendants for legal defense is legal in the United States and does not constitute endorsement of alleged crimes 🔷, the nature of the support extended far beyond legal assistance. Multiple mainstream media outlets reported on social media posts celebrating or expressing support for the shooting, including statements like "my heart goes out to the shooter and his family" and "honestly, I have more sympathy for him than the CEO" 🔷.

IF merchandise celebrating a defendant and hashtags calling for their release exceed typical support for criminal defendants, AND IF these responses include explicit glorification of the alleged crime, THEN this represents not merely support for due process but celebration of the underlying act 🔶.

Let us be clear about what is being celebrated. Federal law 18 U.S.C. § 1111 defines murder as "the unlawful killing of a human being with malice aforethought" 🔷. Under New York Penal Law Section 125.25, murder in the second degree is defined as intentionally causing the death of another person, punishable by 25 years to life imprisonment 🔷.

The premeditation appears evident. Shell casings found at the scene bore the words "deny," "defend," and "depose" 🔷—a deliberate message, not a crime of passion. A three-page handwritten document was found in Luigi Mangione's possession at arrest containing statements about the healthcare industry and corporate America 🔷. This was, by all evidence, an ideologically motivated assassination.

IF vigilante justice is defined as law enforcement undertaken without legal authority and is illegal in all U.S. jurisdictions, AND IF the shooting was motivated by grievances about healthcare industry practices, THEN the act constitutes alleged vigilantism regardless of the legitimacy of underlying grievances 🔶.

We have been here before—and we condemned it then. The assassination of President John F. Kennedy on November 22, 1963, resulted in widespread national mourning, not celebration 🔷. The murder of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. on April 4, 1968, was condemned across political spectrums despite policy disagreements 🔷. The Unabomber, Ted Kaczynski, killed 3 people and injured 23 others between 1978-1995 in attacks targeting individuals he viewed as advancing harmful technology, receiving life imprisonment without parole 🔷.

Ted Kaczynski had a manifesto too. He believed technology was destroying humanity and that those advancing it deserved death. Some agreed with his diagnosis of technology's harms. But American society, across the political spectrum, agreed that murder was not the answer. There were no million-dollar fundraisers for the Unabomber. No t-shirts celebrating his bombings. No hashtags demanding his freedom.

Public opinion polling following politically-motivated violence typically shows 80-90% disapproval regardless of the victim's politics or profession 🔷. Yet in this case, an Emerson College poll found 68% of all respondents found the shooting "unacceptable" 🔷, with particularly troubling results among young adults: 17% of respondents aged 18-29 found the shooting of Brian Thompson "acceptable" or "somewhat acceptable," compared to 7% overall 🔷.

IF historically, politically-motivated violence receives 80-90% disapproval, AND IF this case shows 68% disapproval, THEN public reaction demonstrates approximately 15-25% less universal condemnation, suggesting a concerning erosion of consensus against political violence 🔶.

The justification offered is frustration with the healthcare system. And that frustration is real and documented. A YouGov poll conducted December 13-16, 2024, found that 41% of Americans view the healthcare system "very unfavorably" 🔷. Approximately 530,000 American families file for bankruptcy each year citing medical issues as a contributing factor 🔷. An estimated 26 million Americans were uninsured in 2023 🔷.

These are real problems deserving real solutions. But murder is not a solution. It is a moral catastrophe.

IF frustration with the healthcare system is widespread (41% very unfavorable view), AND IF this frustration translates into moral justification for violence in some portion of the population (17% of young adults find shooting acceptable), THEN legitimate grievances are being channeled into support for illegal and violent responses 🔶.

Brian Thompson was not "the healthcare system." He was not an abstraction or a symbol. He was a specific human being. He was 50 years old 🔷. He was in New York for an investor conference at the time of the shooting 🔷. He left behind a wife and children who will never see him again.

This is what the American Psychological Association defines as "dehumanization": "the act of viewing others as less than human and not deserving of moral consideration, often used to justify violence or mistreatment" 🔷. When we reduce a person to their job title, when we strip away their humanity and render them merely a representative of a hated system, we make the unthinkable thinkable. We make murder seem justified.

Even Senator Elizabeth Warren, when asked about public reaction, stated "Violence is never the answer, but we can't ignore that people are angry because they're being denied care," receiving criticism for the statement's framing 🔷. That "but" does profound moral work. It suggests context that mitigates. It implies understanding that borders on excuse.

Compare this to how other leaders responded. Senator Bernie Sanders stated "I understand the outrage people feel toward the insurance companies, but we cannot tolerate violence. This was a murder, and the person responsible should be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law" 🔷. Notice the difference: Sanders acknowledges grievances *and* draws a firm moral line. Warren's statement was criticized precisely because it blurred that line.

The consequences of this moral erosion are already visible. Multiple health insurance companies removed executive leadership pages and photos from public-facing websites following the shooting 🔷. The CEO of CVS Health reported increased security measures for healthcare executives following the shooting 🔷. The New York Post reported "wanted" posters featuring images of healthcare CEOs appeared in Manhattan following Brian Thompson's death 🔷.

This is what terrorism looks like. Not the legal definition necessarily—though Merriam-Webster defines "terrorism" as "the systematic use of terror especially as a means of coercion" and particularly "violence or the threat of violence used as a weapon of intimidation" 🔷—but the practical reality. Violence against one person sends a message to hundreds of others: you could be next.

We stand at a moral crossroads. Every person who donated money, every person who wore a "Free Luigi" t-shirt, every person who posted #FreeLuigi, every person who said "I understand" or "but the healthcare system"—all of you are choosing which society we become.

You are choosing whether we remain a society governed by law, however imperfect, or descend into one where grievances justify bullets. You are choosing whether human life has inherent dignity regardless of occupation, or whether some people deserve death because of what they do for a living. You are choosing whether we solve problems through democratic processes and collective action, or through individual acts of violence celebrated as heroism.

The million dollars raised for Luigi Mangione is not just about one case. It is a referendum on our most basic moral commitments. And right now, we are failing that test.

Brian Thompson's children will grow up without their father. No amount of legitimate healthcare grievance changes that fact. No critique of insurance company practices justifies that loss. No frustration with denied claims makes that killing anything other than what it legally and morally is: murder.

Until we can say that clearly, without equivocation, without "but," we have lost something essential. We have lost the consensus that makes civilization possible. We have lost the bright line between disagreement and violence, between advocacy and assassination, between legitimate protest and murder.

The million dollars in donations is not support for legal defense. It is a statement of values. And those values are incompatible with a just society.