A Riot is the Language of the Unheard: Why a Broken System Breeds Violence

American elites should see the public reaction to the UHC CEO assassination as a bright red flashing alarm

The point of a political system is simple: to give people a way to resolve their differences without violence. When people start celebrating acts of violence—not out of malice, but with a kind of grim admiration—it’s a sign that the system is no longer working. It’s not enough to scold people for this reaction. Scolding doesn’t fix the problem. If anything, it deepens the cracks.

People choose nonviolence when they believe that they can achieve justice through other means. As long as courts, voting, and community action seem like real options, most folks will pick them every time. But when those paths feel blocked or broken, when people are convinced that their voices don’t matter, that’s when the rules start to fall apart. That’s when the urge to cheer on someone breaking them becomes hard to resist.

And here’s the most alarming part: that reaction—the public celebration of violence—is becoming untethered from political ideology. When people look at acts of violence and cheer regardless of whether they agree with the politics of the person responsible, that’s a bright red flashing warning sign for the wealthiest people in this country. It means that the divisions we’re so used to fighting about—left or right, red or blue—aren’t the ones that matter most anymore. What matters is the overwhelming sense of despair so many people feel in a system that seems designed to keep them down.

No matter how we vote, it’s hard to shake the feeling that nothing fundamental will change for most Americans. Whomever is in the Oval Office, the corporate takeover of America continues. The heist goes on. The rich get richer. As of 2023, the top 1% of earners in the United States hold nearly 40% of the nation’s wealth, while the bottom 50% collectively own just 2.5%. CEOs of major corporations now make, on average, 268 times the salary of their median employees. Meanwhile, over 60% of Americans live paycheck to paycheck, struggling to cover even basic expenses like housing, healthcare, and education.

The truth is, the people in power could stop this. They could stop the unraveling, the anger, the violence. History shows us how. When FDR faced a nation in crisis during the Great Depression, he didn’t ignore the growing rage. He didn’t dismiss people’s pain or scold them for being angry. Instead, he created programs that gave them something they desperately needed: hope.

It worked. By expanding social safety nets and giving ordinary people a chance at a decent life, FDR didn’t just help the country recover—he prevented revolution. Programs like the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) provided jobs to millions of young men, putting them to work on projects like reforesting land, building parks, and controlling floods. The Works Progress Administration (WPA) created employment for artists, writers, and laborers, funding everything from murals in public buildings to the construction of roads and schools. Meanwhile, the Social Security Act established a safety net for the elderly and unemployed, offering a lifeline to those most vulnerable during the Great Depression.

These measures weren’t just about survival; they gave people hope. A mother who could feed her children because of a WPA paycheck or an elderly worker who didn’t have to fear destitution because of Social Security was far less likely to join a march demanding the overthrow of the government. These programs built trust between the people and their leaders—trust that their struggles were being heard and addressed.

Of course, FDR faced fierce opposition. Wealthy elites who saw their power and fortunes slightly diminished accused him of being a traitor to his class. Policies like the National Labor Relations Act, which protected workers' rights to unionize, were seen as existential threats to corporate control. And yet, those very policies likely prevented an American version of the French or Russian revolutions. By sharing just a little of their vast wealth, the rich unwittingly bought themselves a stable society.

The irony is that many of those same elites spent the next several decades dismantling the safeguards FDR put in place, forgetting that he’d saved their necks as much as anyone else’s. Corporate leaders and the wealthy lobbied for significant tax cuts that eroded the progressive tax system FDR implemented. The top marginal tax rate, which stood at 94% during World War II and remained over 70% through the 1970s, has since been slashed to just 37% as of 2023. These cuts shifted the tax burden away from the wealthiest Americans, undermining public investment in programs that benefit everyone.

At the same time, union power—one of the cornerstones of the New Deal’s protections for workers—declined dramatically. Policies like the National Labor Relations Act initially empowered unions to secure better wages and working conditions. However, decades of anti-union efforts, from the Taft-Hartley Act of 1947 to the rise of so-called "right-to-work" laws, have reduced union membership to less than 10% of the U.S. workforce, compared to over 30% in the mid-20th century. This decline has weakened workers’ bargaining power, contributing to stagnant wages and growing inequality.

Even Social Security, one of the most enduring legacies of the New Deal, has seen its effectiveness chipped away. Adjustments to cost-of-living increases haven’t kept pace with the rising expenses retirees face, particularly healthcare. Social Security benefits have lost about 40% of their purchasing power since 2000, leaving millions of elderly Americans struggling to make ends meet. Meanwhile, the retirement age has crept upward, effectively reducing lifetime benefits for many.

These changes didn’t happen overnight—they were the result of deliberate, sustained efforts to roll back the policies that made America more equitable. By dismantling FDR’s safeguards, the wealthy elites have not only undermined the security of millions of Americans but also jeopardized the stability of the system that protects their own power and wealth.

Today, we’re on the edge of something similar, but the people in charge aren’t taking the lesson to heart. Instead of fixing the root causes of people’s despair, they’re doubling down on the system that caused it. They think they can keep squeezing us, keep taking more and giving less, without consequences.

But the celebration of violence isn’t happening in a vacuum. It’s happening in a society where ordinary people can’t get justice. Where quality healthcare is a pipe dream for too many. Where the basics—like housing, education, and clean air—feel like luxuries instead of rights.

When Martin Luther King Jr. said, “A riot is the language of the unheard,” he wasn’t excusing violence. He was explaining that people who feel ignored, silenced, and powerless will find a way to be heard. That’s the warning we’re seeing now, and it’s not subtle. It’s loud. It’s flashing. And it’s telling us that people no longer believe the system will ever work for them.

If those in power want to stop the unraveling, they have to act. They have to build a system where justice isn’t just for the wealthy, where hope isn’t a rare commodity. Because as long as people feel like the system only exists to crush them, the cracks in it will keep growing.