If Luigi Mangione deserves sympathy, then every murderer on death row should demand a fan club—because apparently, America now believes that killing the "right" person makes you a celebrity.
Justice is blind, but it seems some supporters of Luigi Mangione are blindfolded by misguided admiration. Last week, I watched in disbelief as Mangione attended a hearing at Manhattan Criminal Court on February 21, 2025. Outside the courthouse, a large crowd cheered, and signs of sympathy and support for Mangione dotted the scene. This spectacle is both sickening and ridiculous. What has gone wrong with America? Why can't some people in this country understand that supporting or validating a cold-blooded murderer like Mangione is indefensible? It's plain common sense that a murderer should be punished for his crime, not adored. I will continue to watch and see how this Mangione case plays out. Evil must not be allowed to grow stronger than good.
Mangione, a 26-year-old from Towson, Maryland, stands accused of the December 4, 2024, murder of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson in Midtown Manhattan. Arrested in Altoona, Pennsylvania, Mangione was found with a 3D-printed gun, a suppressor, and a falsified New Jersey driver's license. Authorities also discovered a handwritten manifesto criticizing the American healthcare system. Despite the gravity of these charges, Mangione has inexplicably garnered a significant following.
The crowd outside the courthouse was not just any group of onlookers; it comprised over 100 supporters, predominantly young women, some donning "Free Luigi" merchandise and even Luigi caps from the Super Mario Bros franchise. This display of adoration for an accused murderer is not only baffling but also deeply troubling. How did we reach a point where an individual charged with such a heinous crime is celebrated as a folk hero?
This phenomenon isn't entirely new. History has seen instances where criminals are romanticized, often due to a combination of charisma, media portrayal, and public disillusionment with societal systems. From Bonnie and Clyde to Ted Bundy, America has long had a problem with lionizing outlaws and murderers. However, the case of Mangione takes this to a disturbing level. The internet has become captivated by him, with social media platforms flooded with memes, merchandise, and calls to "Free Luigi." This online fandom praises Mangione's appearance and supports his criticisms of the healthcare industry, despite the violent nature of his alleged actions.
Mangione's case has also drawn comparisons to the trial of Kyle Rittenhouse, where public opinion was sharply divided. However, Rittenhouse’s supporters, whether rightly or wrongly, argued self-defense. Mangione, on the other hand, stands accused of premeditated murder. This is not a case of self-defense, a tragic accident, or a wrongful conviction; this is a case of cold-blooded, intentional violence. And yet, there he was, greeted outside the courtroom as if he were a misunderstood activist rather than a man accused of assassinating a corporate executive.
The support for Mangione seems to stem from widespread frustration with the American healthcare system. Many view Thompson, as the CEO of a major health insurance company, as a symbol of a system that prioritizes profit over patient care. The UnitedHealthcare Group, like many insurance giants, has long faced scrutiny over denying claims, overcharging patients, and putting financial gain over human well-being. This sentiment has been amplified by public figures like Chelsea Manning, who attended Mangione's court appearance, stating she was exercising her Sixth Amendment right to a public trial. While criticisms of the healthcare system are valid and necessary, channeling this frustration into support for an accused murderer is a perverse and dangerous misdirection.
Financial backing for Mangione's legal defense has also surged, with over $500,000 raised through crowdfunding platforms. Supporters argue that this is a stand against a corrupt and profit-driven healthcare system. However, this rationale is deeply flawed. Supporting systemic reform is one thing; glorifying an individual accused of a violent crime is another. This conflation undermines legitimate efforts for healthcare reform and sets a dangerous precedent where violence is seen as a justified means of protest. If we begin to excuse murder simply because we dislike its victim, we will find ourselves in a lawless society where every grievance justifies bloodshed.
Social media has played an outsized role in Mangione's rise to infamy. TikTok and Twitter (or X, as it’s now called) have exploded with debates, fan theories, and even "stan accounts" dedicated to Mangione. Some claim he is being framed, while others go as far as calling him a "revolutionary hero." This absurd glorification brings to mind the phenomenon of the "hot felon" Jeremy Meeks, whose mugshot earned him modeling contracts. But Mangione is no model—he is a man accused of taking another person's life in cold blood.
The legal proceedings against Mangione are ongoing, with both state and federal charges that could lead to life imprisonment or even the death penalty. His defense attorney, Karen Friedman Agnifilo, has raised concerns about evidence handling and constitutional rights violations during his arrest. While every defendant is entitled to a fair trial and competent defense, the public's role is not to idolize but to allow the justice system to function without undue influence.
This case raises critical questions about our society's moral compass. When did we start celebrating individuals accused of heinous crimes simply because their actions resonate with our personal grievances? This dehumanization and glorification of violence reflect a dangerous shift in societal values. As a nation, we must recognize that while our systems are flawed and in need of reform, resorting to violence and elevating perpetrators to hero status is not the path to meaningful change.
Some argue that Mangione's case is symbolic of larger issues in America—corporate greed, political corruption, and the struggles of the working class. But symbolic or not, murder is murder. Thompson, for all the criticisms against his industry, was a husband, a father, and a man with a right to life. If we condone murder as a method of protest, where do we draw the line? Should every executive, politician, or authority figure who makes unpopular decisions fear for their life? Should every corporate CEO sleep with one eye open because someone out there believes their death would be "justice"?
In the words of an old proverb, "He who seeks vengeance must dig two graves: one for his enemy and one for himself." By supporting individuals like Mangione, we are not only undermining the rule of law but also eroding the moral fabric that holds our society together. It's imperative that we address systemic issues through peaceful and constructive means, rather than glorifying acts of violence.
As I continue to watch how the Mangione case unfolds, I am reminded that allowing evil to be celebrated only serves to embolden it. We must stand firm in our commitment to justice and ensure that good prevails over misguided adulation of wrongdoing. After all, in a society where murderers are hailed as heroes, one must wonder: has the line between right and wrong become so blurred that we need glasses to see it? Or worse, are we staring at a world where the only ones who see clearly are those looking through the barrel of a gun?
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