Young people are afraid to run for office
The context you need, when you need it
When news breaks, you need to understand what actually matters — and what to do about it. At Vox, our mission to help you make sense of the world has never been more vital. But we can’t do it on our own.
We rely on readers like you to fund our journalism. Will you support our work and become a Vox Member today?
Young people are afraid to run for office
The threat of political violence is testing the future of state and local legislators.
It’s been just over a year since a gunman in Minnesota attacked two Democratic state lawmakers and their families in their homes — killing state Rep. Melissa Hortman and her husband, while injuring state Sen. John Hoffman and his wife. This “night of terror” stunned the political world: the gunman had a hit list and intended to carry out more assassinations of state elected officials, according to federal prosecutors.
Only a couple of months later, Charlie Kirk, the conservative founder of the Turning Point USA student political organization, was fatally shot at a campus event. As young and politically engaged Americans watched footage of his murder travel across social media, many worried that civic life would never be the same — and whether it was even safe for them to participate.
“It was terrifying and it was horrible and I will never forget where I was when I heard the news of Charlie Kirk,” Katie Fire Thunder, a 26-year-old Democratic member of the Montana House of Representatives, told me recently.
At the time of Kirk’s death, the Oglala Lakota Sioux Tribe member was preparing to enter public service herself — she’d go on to be appointed in December 2025 to replace a retiring state representative after years of political organizing and activist work — and was suddenly pondering if it would be worth it.
It was not the first time she’d had the thought. Growing up, she was well aware that public officials faced violence — whether at a community event, or a baseball practice, or at their home — even as she was drawn to the idea of service.
“Strangely, I always had a fear when I was little of being assassinated — I don’t know what it was, but I remember telling my mom, ‘I think I want to be a judge or an attorney, but I’m too scared that someone would get upset at me and try and come after me and shoot me’,” she told me.
Yet the calling to pass policy and engage communities won out. She’s now running for a full term in office — and wrestling with what the future will hold for her as polarization and political violence seem to be reaching new heights in tandem.
“Now being an elected official, I’m really like, ‘Okay, what was little Katie thinking?’ And I’m really trying to process that,” she said.
In conversations with young politicians and public servants, people in both parties described going through a similar journey. They feel a calling to change the status quo, an imperative to serve their neighbors and help the marginalized, and a drive to replace the aging establishment. But in addition to all the other challenges of politics — poor pay, demanding work schedules, nonstop fundraising — they’re increasingly grappling with the risk of violent retribution.
These fears are already shaping the next era of politics — changing how leaders behave, how they engage with constituents, and whether they run at all. In ways subtle and loud, the costs will be borne by all of us.
Young legislators are balancing two clashing priorities
Security challenges —........
