Recently, three events unfolded in the state of California: a foreclosure that led to the shooting death of a sheriff and the shooter; a Molotov cocktail was thrown at Sam Altman’s house; and a disgruntled worker torched a Kimberly-Clark warehouse. In each case, a clear alternative existed if only people were organized. Instead, individuals took it upon themselves to lash out at a system that has ignored and discarded workers, and seeks to develop advanced technologies that create more alienation, destroy the environment, and potentially threaten the future of both the planet and the human species. 

Indeed, the United States is infamous for cultivating violent loners. We showcase them in films such as Taxi Driver (1976)and Joker (2019). Figures such as Luigi Mangione, the man convicted of assassinating UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson, are celebrated on social media. Their images and messages are amplified by hordes of isolated and disempowered men. In the case of Mangione, “an Emerson College poll found that 41% of voters under 30 found the killing ‘acceptable,’ far more than any other age group.” Another poll showed that roughly 50% of college students“believe the crime was justified.” 

While it’s unsurprising that so many young people sympathize or even support violent acts against corporate CEOs, it also raises questions about the lack of imagination among the youth. The political horizon for so many young (and old) Americans is quite low. These days, it’s difficult to find people who genuinely believe the system can change to benefit humanity as a whole and the planet. As a result, nihilistic and reactionary acts of violence become the only response to overwhelming economic inequality and a sense that those in power have sold our collective future to the highest bidder. 

Those feelings, no doubt, are understandable. I read each of the three stories mentioned above with great care and interest. In one sense, you could make the argument that at least some people haven’t completely surrendered to the system that exploits and abuses them. Instead of going home and binge-watching Netflix, those three individuals took it upon themselves to lash out at a system that doesn’t care about them. But in doing so, they also reveal the extreme isolation and disempowerment felt by millions of Americans. They put their fellow workers at risk. And make nonviolent actions against those same entities far more dangerous and difficult. 

Workplace Organizing Instead of Arson

Chamel Abdulkarim, the 29-year-old who set fire to a 1.2 million square foot warehouse in Ontario, California, specifically cited Luigi Mangione as an inspiration. According to the U.S. attorney in charge of the case, Abdulkarim sent a text to a fellow coworker following the arson that read, “All you had to do was pay us enough to live. Pay us more of the value WE bring. Not corporate. Didn’t see the shareholders picking up a shift.” Abdulkarim faces up to 20 years in prison for his actions. His life is ruined. If he gets the maximum possible sentence, he’ll exit prison as a 49-year-old. 

As a result of Abdulkarim’s actions, Kimberly-Clark’s policies have not changed. The corporation will not radically alter its relationship with the workers who toil in its manufacturing or storage facilities. In fact, one can assume that Kimberly-Clark will implement additional security measures to monitor workers and their actions on the shop floor. Dozens of Abdulkarim’s fellow workers are now unemployed. The corporate bosses won’t face any consequences, but Abdulkarim’s coworkers’ families will suffer as a result of the fire. And all of this at a time when the global economy is on the verge of a major recession. 

Instead of setting fire to the warehouse, Abdulkarim, rightly incensed by the horrors and alienation of capitalism, could’ve undertaken the difficult but more worthwhile process of organizing a union at his warehouse. A challenging and long-term project, no doubt, unionization efforts provide an opportunity to connect with fellow workers, develop social bonds, build solidarity, and provide mutual aid to struggling comrades unable to make ends meet. Destruction is easy. Building powerful political organizations, however, is a tedious project. 

Community Organizing to Protect Our Neighbors Instead of Shooting Sheriffs 

On Thursday, April 9th, David Morales opened fire on the Tulare County Sheriff’s Department during a foreclosure procedure. Consequently, Detective Randy Hoppert, 35 years old, was shot and killed. Morales also died after being run over by a BearCat armored vehicle employed by the sheriff’s department. Two lives ruined. Home turned over the bank. According to reports, Morales has endured decades of financial troubles, including previous foreclosures and bankruptcy filings. He had no previous criminal record, and little is known about his political affiliations or motivations. 

As General Corman said to Captain Willard in Apocalypse Now (1979), “Every man has got a breaking point. You and I have.” Obviously, Morales had reached his. Unlike the context surrounding Abdulkarim, the situation with Morales is more complex. There’s no clear answer for what he, as an individual, could’ve done that would’ve prevented the catastrophe that played out that Thursday morning in Porterville, California. The foreclosure crisis that exploded into the Great Financial Crisis of 2008 still simmers below the surface. Millions of Americans are one paycheck or personal tragedy away from defaulting on their mortgage, losing their vehicle, or falling into financial disrepair. 

Morales not only destroyed his life, but he also destroyed the life of Detective Randy Hoppert, whose family, friends, and neighbors will mourn his death for years to come, including his wife, who is currently four months pregnant. Hopperty’s child will grow up without its biological father, whom it’ll never see, smell, touch, hug, or kiss. A human calamity of epic proportions. And for what? The mortgage companies and banks won’t change their foreclosure policies. The police will continue to do their job as directed by the law and their superiors. If anything, the police will start arriving at such events even more armed, more prepared for violence. It gives the state a reason to further militarize. It hardens attitudes. 

Instead of shooting it out with the police, Morales’ home could’ve been saved by an organized, disciplined, and committed community political organization capable of blocking foreclosures. Since the 2008 crisis, I’ve long thought about the potential actions citizens could take in response to various financial punishments: repossessed cars, foreclosed homes, student loan debt, etc. In each case, there is no viable option for combatting corporate greed individually. 

Collectively, on the other hand, people have tremendous power. Imagine for a moment if Morales’ neighbors, friends, and family surrounded his house in the hundreds or thousands, blocking the sheriff’s department from taking action. Imagine Americans organized to such a degree that housing becomes a human right provided by a democratic state willing and capable of providing such housing. Those are the sort of alternatives to the status quo that we should encourage. The fact that such proposals seem far-fetched isn’t an indictment of the ideas themselves, but a testament to the lack of imagination and alienation Americans feel so deeply. 

Stopping AI Technology & Imagining Alternatives Instead of Attempted Murder

The day after the tragedy in Porterville, 20-year-old Daniel Moreno-Gama “approached the gate of OpenAI CEO Sam Altman’s house in San Francisco and hurled a Molotov cocktail at the building before fleeing. Eventually, Daniel Moreno-Gama “was arrested less than two hours later while allegedly attempting to break into the headquarters of OpenAI with a jug of kerosene, a lighter, and an anti-AI manifesto.” Charged with attempted arson and attempted murder, Moreno-Gama faces life imprisonment if convicted. His parents suggested to authorities that their son had recently endured a mental health crisis. 

Leaving aside a discussion about mental health (lack of resources, a for-profit healthcare system, and so on), it’s unsurprising that Moreno-Gama is rather young. If any segment of the American population faces the possibly catastrophic consequences of unleashing an unregulated form of technology that poses a grave threat to both human beings and the planet, it’s the younger generations. They will live with the repercussions of whatever decisions the state either makes or doesn’t make in light of rapidly developing AI tech. 

Moreno-Gama’s acts aren’t surprising. In fact, what’s more surprising is that such events aren’t taking place on a regular basis. Back in 2023, “a group of industry leaders warned…. that the artificial intelligence technology they were building might one day pose an existential threat to humanity and should be considered a societal risk on a par with pandemics and nuclear wars.” For my generation, who grew up watching movies such as Terminator 2: Judgement Day (1992), Blade Runner (1982), Minority Report (2002), and Ex Machina (2014), the message conveyed in those movies was crystal clear: kill the people responsible for developing such technology or eventually go to war with said technology. Either way, violence is the answer. Perhaps it is, but not in our current context. 

Each of those films portrays individual acts of violence, or small groups of violent actors taking on the tech companies, individual CEOs, or the robots themselves. There is no sense of collective action. There is no sense of revolutionary violence. And that’s not to say such violence is ideal or productive, but it would be much better than the individualized violence glamorized in such movies. Even worse, there’s absolutely no sense of collective action against the AI companies, their CEOs, or the governments that allowed those corporations to run amok and take over society. Today, our culture reflects the narratives displayed in those films. 

Alternative visions for how we might collectively reconstruct or fundamentally change society for the benefit of human beings and the planet are severely lacking. Political writers fail to articulate creative alternatives, as do filmmakers, fiction writers, musicians, and artists. Perhaps this lack of vision is a reflection of the overwhelming sense of dread and despair Americans feel deep within our bones. Can we really change the world? Is it even possible to overthrow the existing system? Those are reasonable questions political activists ask themselves all of the time. Non-politicized Americans also consider those questions when determining whether it’s worth their time to get involved in political efforts. 

Instead of (understandably) disgruntled individuals tossing Molotov Cocktails at the homes of tech CEOs, what sort of political movement would it take to immediately stop the development of AI technology? What sort of decentralized and centralized mechanisms could Americans employ to halt the progress of environmentally destructive and dehumanizing forms of technology? How could we use culture — films, literature, poetry, music, religion — to undermine the very notion of incessant technological progress? After all, Americans didn’t ask for or vote for Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, or TikTok to become ubiquitous parts of our daily lives. 

Collective Action or Individual Misery

Much like 9/11, we don’t have to justify acts of terror to better understand why they happen or the material, historical, social, and psychological conditions that make such acts of horrific violence essentially inevitable. We can and should recognize the overwhelming anger permeating American society. Hell, I’m angry. I’ve maintained, to a greater or lesser extent (depending on current events), a certain level of anger since returning home from Iraq. Many of my fellow veterans have turned to drugs and alcohol, exploded in violent homicidal rage, or taken their own lives as a result of the disconnect and moral injury suffered in the wake of fighting an illegal and illegitimate war. 

Part of what’s kept me grounded is a solid family structure, lifelong friends, community connections, and, of course, political activism. Those entities and projects have provided a sort of relief valve. Today’s society provides individuals with countless destructive avenues and unhealthy rabbit holes to dive down. Hyper-alienation plagues our society. Algorithms keep people sheltered and surrounded by intense echo-chambers of equally isolated and disempowered individuals who can justify any number of reactionary acts of violence. The internet is chock-full of apps, websites, and chatrooms dedicated to reinfocing the very worst elements of human nature. 

In the end, there is no easy way out of our collective predicament. But any potential avenue to a better world won’t come through individual acts of violence, however banal or spectacular they may be. Rebuilding social bonds, developing and valuing solidarity, assembling powerful, radical political organizations capable of effecting fundamental change, and fighting back creatively and militantly against the elites and institutions that are making our lives miserable and wrecking the planet remain our only hope. It’s a rough road ahead, but it’s a fight worth undertaking.