COWARDS WISH DEATH ON ‘ALL TYRANTS’ AFTER WHITE HOUSE CORRESPONDENTS’ ASSOCIATION DINNER SHOOTING

Before the evening fully began, gunfire erupted outside the secured perimeter. In an instant, formality gave way to instinct. In a room defined by division, unity was not only possible, it was automatic. There was a shared recognition that something larger than politics had just entered the premises.

For Trump, it was a grimly familiar sensation: the third assassination attempt on his life in less than two years. Yet, this time the air felt heavier. His wife was sitting right beside him, well within range of the attacker’s target. Law enforcement from multiple agencies jumped into action, and within seconds, the president was whisked off to safety, along with the first lady and members of the Cabinet. 

When the threat was subdued, true to his character, Trump was ready to return to the stage, and let the party resume — he’d been looking forward to this moment. The reality of the circumstances dictated otherwise — the event would be continued at a later date. 

However, among the chaos, the president noticed a shift in the room that had nothing to do with politics. In that “foxhole” of shared trauma, the partisan bickering vanished. There were no hateful looks or ideological divides, only helpful hands, comforting hugs, and a profound sense of human unity. 

In the tragedy of the moment, a beauty arose across the room, leaving us with the question: How have things gotten so bad? In less than two years, we have seen as many as 10 incidents of political violence targeting members of both parties, with this president being the most targeted of all. What has brought us to a point where attempted murder is increasingly commonplace, and in some dark corners, even justified?

Well, once upon a time… Cable was born.

In large part, the answer lies in the evolution of how we consume the world. When news became a 24/7 product, the industry faced desperate pressure to retain audiences and advertisers. Objective news, by its nature, is finite, but a 24-hour cycle is not. That imbalance created a new pressure: not just to report the news, but to sustain it. To fill the remaining 23 hours, content had to be creatively orchestrated. It had to compete with other cable channels and, later, streaming entertainment.

News that was once limited by time and space suddenly had to be sustained. That shift created a new kind of pressure. Information alone is not enough to hold attention indefinitely — it must be framed, expanded, debated, and intensified. The same story is no longer simply reported — it is interpreted, magnified, and layered with commentary designed to keep audiences engaged. In the age of instantaneous information, we have developed the attention span of a gnat, and rather than (thankfully) boring news, we passively seek validation via confirmation bias, delivered on demand.

The curators of these hallucinated versions of news began with the “opinion newscaster.” By moving away from neutral facts and shifting toward provocative, emotional storytelling, outlets found they could generate a massive response. Intellect justifies, but emotion delivers, and nothing delivers ratings like outrage. This model created a feedback loop: News became a simulated story (“inspired” by events) where “likes” and engagement became more important than accuracy.

For audience retention, the more extreme and emotionally-charged the “news” became, the greater the profits. Cable news personalities became celebrities, and could be as “entertaining” as needed, to seduce the audience for another hour. Truth became fluid, and content expanded to adapt to polls, ratings, and advertiser preferences.

This curation has us living through the “normalization of rage.” When a story is tied to identity, belief, or perceived threat, it becomes more than information — it becomes personal. Over time, that personalization reshapes how people see one another. Disagreement begins to feel less like a difference in perspective and more like a fundamental divide.

Division was now deeply ingrained in American culture. To revise it is to reduce the news providers of their power to shape policy and human behavior, even if it is based on fiction.

Adding fuel to the fire, along came social media, where news commentary became creative content. Content became currency. The more provocative the message, the greater the reach. The greater the reach, the greater the incentive to escalate. For some individuals, that environment can distort reality. When outrage is rewarded and extreme interpretations are normalized, the line between fact and fiction erodes.

In seeking a remedy to corrosive division, it helps to understand that patterns do not emerge in isolation. It is part of an entrenched ecosystem of news-as-entertainment for profit. 

WHCA DINNER REVIVAL FACES SECURITY, LOGISTICAL CHALLENGES AFTER SHOOTING

When political leaders amplify these distortions, they validate the narrative, regardless of truth, and create an environment of distrust and hostility that can inspire political violence. The first step to easing the divide is to stop the spread of opinion-as-fact content. Your words carry a fiduciary responsibility to our nation.

E pluribus unum — out of many, one. It was never meant to suggest uniformity, but it was meant to acknowledge differences while maintaining unity.

Jacqueline Cartier is a corporate and legislative strategist focused on communications, crisis leadership, public trust, and emerging technologies that shape human behavior and decision-making. Follow her on LinkedIn.