Young people dominated the hospital crowd, which makes sense, since Kirk’s major accomplishment was to promote his brand of right-wing politics to a cohort that has historically been uninterested in it. Kirk was many things: charismatic, politically canny, polemical, ruthless. His organization, Turning Point USA—with its mission to “win America’s culture war”—was arguably the right’s most successful new political group. A talented demagogue, he attacked trans people, LGBTQ people, Black people, Muslims, and women, and his arguments were often misleading, ahistorical, or rankly hypocritical. But because his public appearances so often took the shape of a seemingly fair debate—two citizens squaring off at microphones—they could feel honest and democratic to his fans.
“I really have to thank my Instagram algorithm for introducing me to him,” said Elder Joseph Trunnel, an 18-year-old donning the starched-white shirt and tie typical of the Latter-Day Saints. “Part of me wanted to be like him, because of how much of a genius he was.” Trunnel added that Kirk inspired him to go to trade school instead of college. “I got my barber license, and it’s been working out really good,” he told me. “It’s really made a difference in my life.” His friend and fellow LDS elder Bryce Harding, 19, agreed: “He spoke the truth; he never tried to cause contention.”
That, of course, is untrue. Kirk’s career was built on contention. He went toe-to-toe with college students in public debates and also against older opponents, like California governor Gavin Newsom and the sharp liberal commentator Sam Seder. On his podcast he called for “a Nuremberg-style trial for every gender-affirming clinic doctor” and endorsed the “great replacement” conspiracy theory. His social media clips helped Kirk dominate the political sphere and positioned him as a crusader for far-right values—particularly among a rising conservative youth movement.
