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Christopher Rufo

In Charleroi, Pennsylvania, the local population grapples with a surge of Haitian migrants.

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A Troubled Place

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Charleroi, Pennsylvania, is a deeply troubled place. The former steel town, built along a stretch of the Monongahela River, south of Pittsburgh, has experienced the typical Rust Belt rise and fall. The industrial economy, which had turned it into something resembling a company town, hollowed out after the Second World War. Some residents fled; others succumbed to vices. The steel mills disappeared. Two drug-abuse treatment centers have since opened their doors.

The town’s population had steadily declined since the middle of the twentieth century, with the most recent Census reporting slightly more than 4,000 residents. Then, suddenly, things changed. Local officials estimate that approximately 2,000 predominantly Haitian migrants have moved in. The town’s Belgium Club and Slovak Club are mostly quiet nowadays, while the Haitians and other recent immigrants have quickly established their presence, even dominance, in a dilapidated corridor downtown.

This change—the replacement of the old ethnics with the new ethnics—is an archetypal American story. And, as in the past, it has caused anxieties and, at times, conflict.

The municipal government has felt the strain. The town, already struggling with high rates of poverty and unemployment, has been forced to assimilate thousands of new arrivals. The schools now crowd with new Haitian pupils, and have had to hire translators and English teachers. Some of the old pipes downtown have started releasing the smell of sewage. And, according to a town councilman, there is a growing sense of trepidation about the alarming number of car crashes, with some vehicles reportedly slamming into buildings.

Among the city’s old guard, frustrations are starting to boil over. Instead of being used to revitalize these communities, these residents argue, resources get redirected to the new arrivals, who undercut wages, drive rents up, and, so far, have failed to assimilate. Worst of all, these residents say, they had no choice—there was never a vote on the question of migration; it simply materialized.

Former president Donald Trump, echoing the sentiments of some of Charleroi’s native citizens, has cast the change in a sinister light. As he told the crowd at a recent rally in Indiana, Pennsylvania, “it takes centuries to build the unique character of each state. . . . But reckless migration policy can change it quickly and permanently.” Progressives, as expected, countered with the usual arguments, claiming that Trump was stoking fear, inciting nativist resentment, and even putting the Haitian migrants in danger.

Neither side, however, seems to have grappled with the mechanics of Charleroi’s abrupt transformation. How did thousands of Haitians end up in a tiny borough in Western Pennsylvania? What are they doing there? And cui bono—who benefits?

The answers to these questions have ramifications not only for Charleroi, but for the general trajectory of mass migration under the Biden administration, which has allowed more than 7 million migrants to enter the United States, either illegally, or, as with some 309,000 Haitians, under ad hoc asylum rules.

The basic pattern in Charleroi has been replicated in thousands of cities and towns across America: the federal government has opened the borders to all comers; a web of publicly funded NGOs has facilitated the flow of migrants within the country; local industries have welcomed the arrival of cheap, pliant labor. And, under these enormous pressures, places like Charleroi often revert to an older form: that of the company town, in which an open conspiracy of government, charity, and industry reshapes the society to its advantage—whether the citizens want it or not.


The best way to understand the migrant crisis is to follow the flow of people, money, and power—in other words, to trace the supply chain of human migration. In Charleroi, we have mapped the web of institutions that have facilitated the flow of migrants from Port-au-Prince. Some of these institutions are public and, as such, must make their records available; others, to avoid scrutiny, keep a low profile.

The initial, and most powerful, institution is the federal government. Over the past four years, Customs and Border Patrol has reported hundreds of thousands of encounters with Haitian nationals. In addition, the White House has admitted 210,000 Haitians through its controversial Humanitarian Parole Program for Cubans, Haitians, Nicaraguans, and Venezuelans (CHNV), which it paused in early August and has since relaunched. The program is presented as a “lawful pathway,” but critics, such as vice presidential candidate J. D. Vance, have called it an “abuse of asylum laws” and warned of its destabilizing effects on communities across the country.

The next link in the web is the network of publicly funded NGOs that provide migrants with resources to assist in travel, housing, income, and work. These groups are called “national resettlement agencies,” and serve as the key middleman in the flow of migration. The scale of this effort is astounding. These agencies are affiliated with more than 340 local offices nationwide and have received some $5.5 billion in new awards since 2021. And, because they are technically non-governmental institutions, they are not required to disclose detailed information about their operations.

In Charleroi, one of the most active resettlement agencies is Jewish Family and Community Services Pittsburgh. According to a September Pittsburgh Post-Gazette report, JFCS staff have been traveling to Charleroi weekly for the past year and a half to resettle many of the migrants. The organization has offered to help migrants sign up for welfare programs, including SNAP, Medicaid, and direct financial assistance. While JFCS Pittsburgh offers “employment services“ to migrants, it denies any involvement with the employer and staffing agencies that were the focus of our investigation.

And yet, business is brisk. In 2023, JFCS Pittsburgh reported $12.5 million in revenue, of which $6.15 million came directly from government grants. Much of the remaining funding came from other nonprofits that also get federal funds, such as a $2.8 million grant from its parent organization, HIAS. And JFCS’s executives enjoy generous salaries: the CEO earned $215,590, the CFO $148,601, and the COO $125,218—all subsidized by the taxpayer.

What is next in the chain? Business. In Charleroi, the Haitians are, above all, a new supply of inexpensive labor. A network of staffing agencies and private companies has recruited the migrants to the city’s factories and assembly lines. While some recruitment happens through word-of-mouth, many staffing agencies partner with local nonprofits that specialize in refugee resettlement to find immigrants who need work.

At the center of this system in Charleroi is Fourth Street Foods, a frozen-food supplier with approximately 1,000 employees, most of whom work on the assembly line. In an exclusive interview, Chris Scott, the CEO and COO of Fourth Street Barbeque (the legal name of the firm that does business as Fourth Street Foods) explained that his company, like many factory businesses, has long relied on immigrant labor, which, he estimates, makes up about 70 percent of its workforce. The firm employs many temporary workers, and, with the arrival of the Haitians, has found a new group of laborers willing to work long days in an industrial freezer, starting at about $12 an hour.

Many of these workers are not directly employed by Fourth Street Foods. Instead, according to Scott, they are hired through staffing agencies, which pay workers about $12 an hour for entry-level food-processing roles and bill Fourth Street Foods over $16 per hour to cover their costs, including transportation and overhead. (The average wage for an entry-level food processor in Washington County was $16.42 per hour in 2023.)

According to a Haitian migrant who worked at Fourth Street and a review of video footage, three staffing agencies—Wellington Staffing AgencyCelebes Staffing Services, and Advantage Staffing Agency—are key conduits for labor in the city. None have websites, advertise their services, or appear in job listings. According to Scott, Fourth Street Foods relies on agencies to staff its contract workforce, but he declined to specify which agencies, citing nondisclosure agreements.

The final link is housing. And here, too, Fourth Street Foods has an organized interest. During the Covid-19 pandemic, Scott said, Fourth Street Foods was “scrambling” to find additional workers. The owner of the company, David Barbe, stepped in, acquiring and renovating a “significant number of homes” to provide housing for his workforce. A property search for David Barbe and his other business, DB Rentals LLC, shows records of more than 50 properties, many of which are concentrated on the same streets.

After the initial purchases, Barbe required some of the existing residents to vacate to make room for newcomers. A single father, who spoke on condition of anonymity, was forced to leave his home after it was sold to DB Rentals LLC in 2021. “[W]e had to move out [on] very short notice after five years of living there and being great tenants,” he explained. Afterward, a neighbor informed him that a dozen people of Asian descent had been crammed into the two-bedroom home. They were “getting picked up and dropped off in vans.”

“My kids were super upset because that was the house they grew up in since they were little,” the man said. “It was just all a huge nightmare.”


In recent years, a debate has raged about “replacement migration,” which some left-wing critics have dubbed a racist conspiracy theory. But in Charleroi, “replacement” is a plain reality. While the demographic statistics have shifted dramatically in recent years, replacement happens in more prosaic ways, too: a resident moves away. Another arrives. The keys to a rental apartment change hands.

In one sense, this is unremarkable. Since the beginning, America has been the land of migration, replacement, and change. The original Belgian settlers of Charleroi were replaced by the later-arriving Slavic populations, who are now, in turn, being replaced by men and women from Port-au-Prince. The economy changed along the same lines. The steel plants shut down years ago. The glass factory, the last remaining symbol of the Belgian glass-makers, might suspend operations soon. The largest employer now produces frozen meals.

In another sense, however, legitimate criticisms can be made of what is happening in Charleroi. First, the benefits of mass migration seem to accrue to the organized interests, while citizens and taxpayers absorb the costs. No doubt, the situation is advantageous to David Barbe of Fourth Street Foods, who can pay $16 an hour to the agencies that employ his contract labor force, then recapture some of those wages in rent—just like the company towns from a century ago.

But for the old residents of Charleroi, who cherish their distinct heritage and fear that their quality of life is being compromised, it’s mostly downside. The evictions, the undercut wages, the car crashes, the cramped quarters, the unfamiliar culture: these are not trivialities, nor are they racist conspiracy theories. They are the signs of a disconcerting reality: Charleroi is a dying town that could not revitalize itself on its own, which made it the perfect target for “revitalization” by elite powers—the federal government, the NGOs, and their local satraps.

The key question in Charleroi is the fundamental question of politics: Who decides? The citizens of the United States, and of Charleroi, have been assured since birth that they are the ultimate sovereign. The government, they were told, must earn the consent of the governed. But the people of Charleroi were never asked if they wanted to submit their borough to an experiment in mass migration. Others chose for them—and slandered them when they objected.

The decisive factor, which many on the institutional Left would rather conceal, is one of power. Martha’s Vineyard, when faced with a single planeload of migrants, can evict them in a flash. But Charleroi—the broken man of the Rust Belt—cannot. This is the reality of replacement: the strong do what they can, and the weak endure what they must.

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Christopher Rufo

Luigi Mangione and Left-Wing Nihilism

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Christopher F. Rufo

The assassination of the UnitedHealthcare CEO represents a dark turn in our politics.


The following transcript of the episode has been lightly edited for clarity:

The most significant story in this week’s news cycle was, without a doubt, the spectacular assassination of the UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson and the subsequent capture of his alleged assassin: a young, handsome, well-educated person named Luigi Mangione, who authorities say was in possession of a weapon and a manifesto outlining a possible motive for the crime. The assassination itself, which unfolded last week, was engineered for maximum spectacle, and in fact, it was captured on a CCTV camera, and these images rocketed across the country and across the world. This was a spectacular assassination because the target was the CEO of a major corporation. The execution was brazen. The assassin, who wore a mask and a hood, patiently approached the CEO as he was exiting a hotel on the streets of Manhattan—and then, at close range, with cold calculation, pulled the trigger multiple times until he was dead. On the scene, police found shells of the bullets etched with phrases like “deny, defend, depose,” indicating a deliberate preparation—this was a cold-blooded killing—as well as an ideological motivation. There was resentment, anger, and hatred because of UnitedHealthcare and, supposedly, because of its policies.

This week, there was another layer added to this story that made it even more of a media-feeding frenzy. The suspect and alleged assassin was revealed as a young man named Luigi Mangione, who had all the outward trappings of success. This was an individual who comes from a very wealthy family in the Baltimore area. He’s handsome by appearance, physically fit, he appears to be highly intelligent from the trail of social media posts that he left, and he had two degrees, which he earned in quick succession from the University of Pennsylvania—part of the Ivy League. You had these two seemingly incongruous images or stories suddenly collapsing into one another, and it led to this great question: Why? Why would someone who in theory has everything in life—looking ahead in his life everything is looking up—and yet he succumbed to this very dark assassination? He orchestrated it carefully, he attempted to escape, and then he was caught in a very marginal position, huddled in a McDonald’s in the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania.

It’s important to take this seriously at two levels. The first level, of course, is trying to trace the ideological progression of Luigi Mangione from the details that we’ve discovered in the media to try to understand both his stated rationale, but then also, perhaps, the underlying psychological motivation behind this crime. Secondarily, it’s important to see this crime, which has set off a media feeding frenzy—you have look-alike contests, you have people idealizing and even idolizing this individual, you have even popular politicians such as Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Bernie Sanders, and Elizabeth Warren trying to harvest some of this energy that has been unleashed by this revenge killing into their political program, their left-wing economic program—while, of course, carefully creating some deniability, some distance, between themselves and the actual crime of murder.

First, let’s look at the question of motive. Motive is a key element in any criminal investigation, but in a political crime, which this by all accounts appears to be, it’s even more important. Mangione was like many of us who have an elite education, who grew up at least part of our lives on the Internet—we leave a trail of posts, of engagement, of comments, of interactions as part of our digital life, and he was no exception. He left a trail of clues, a trail of statements, a trail of bits of information on the social media platform X, on the publication platform Substack, and on the reader-sharing application Goodreads. Is this a total revelation of all of his thoughts, feelings, motivations, and problems? No. But it does give us some information to start piecing together.

What strikes me is that his ideological development—you can look at it over the last years by tracing his readings, his statements, his interests—and a few years ago—and the left-wing press has really focused on this as the source of his ideological transgressions or resentments—it started with what I could think of as elite centrist ideologies. He was sharing content from Yuval Noah Harari, who is the World Economic Forum guru who thinks that human beings are rats that have to be guided through the maze of the modern world, and that we can someday overcome our own nature. He was sharing content from the social psychologist Jonathan Haidt, who has captured in a substantive way some of the professional class anxieties about technology, youth behavior, and with other colleagues around natalism and birth rates, which were also a focus of Mangione’s a couple of years ago. Then third, you have him sharing content and discussing content from the Stanford scientist and health guru Andrew Huberman. I think of him as the cold tank protocol—all of these small lifestyle adjustments and healthcare protocols and supplement routines that, in theory, take the human being to another level of performance. Again, reducing human nature to its biological nature—you can make incremental improvements, you could take these supplements, you could sit in an ice bath for an hour, and you’ll be 12% more effective. These are banal elite ideologies. That’s not to say that there’s no truth to all of them. There are certainly some insights that are worth garnering. But what all these have in common is a popularity and a safety in elite circles. You can follow Harari, you can follow Haidt, you can follow Huberman—you’re signaling, perhaps, some dissidence from the establishment, the left-liberal establishment—but you’re well within the confines of elite ideologies that are reducible, and this is important, to a scientific and quantifiable base. This is almost a McKinsey-style ideology, which ties in very much to the world of elite Ivy Leagues.

But beginning perhaps two years ago, certainly a year ago, and accelerating in recent months, you saw a change in his consumption, a change in his discussion. He moved from banal elite ideologies to what I think of as banal radical ideologies. He wrote a review of the Unabomber’s manifesto that was quite positive. I think he gave it four stars on Goodreads, and he felt sympathy with some of the more radical ideas—some of the rationalizations for violence that were in Ted Kaczynski’s manifesto. He also bought into a left-wing corporate greed narrative. This is a standard narrative over the past 100 years in American life that is mobilized on the left, especially in times of economic uncertainty, that has the populist component. It explains misery, misfortune, and ill health because of corporate greed, corporate corruption, and corporate malfeasance. It provides a great target upon which to project one’s own miseries.

He was also talking about new age, radical ideologies in the form of psychedelics. If you’ve been around tech centrists in Silicon Valley, New York, or Seattle, there’s a subculture that has adopted psychedelics, not a countercultural phenomenon like it might have been in the late 1960s, but as a way to unlock creativity, insight, productivity—the Steve Jobs typification of psychedelics that are not only deemed acceptable in these professional environments but deemed a substitute for a grounded religious life. You can go to a shaman in South America, slurp a cup of Ayahuasca, and unlock your brain, which can then be used to demystify the world. You can find your authentic self, and then you can exit the trappings or the drudgeries of the modern capitalist society.

You’re watching this arc of transformation, and simultaneously, some of the personal tidbits start to stack up. This is an individual who went through what appears to be a very painful back surgery. There were published reports saying that he may have lost his job at a tech firm where he was working as an engineer. And then he was living, at least for a time, in a commune environment in Hawaii—the kind of new age, professional class, affluent communities. These are features of some places around the world. You have them in some boroughs of New York, you have them in places like Berkeley, California, and places like some of the more secluded places in Hawaii. There is the potential, although it’s not totally confirmed, that this narrative of personal struggle, personal pain, personal unhappiness because of his medical condition—in the context of someone who was very healthy, very strong, very physically fit, he was an athlete, at least high school—could have led him to snap. We have the personal progression layered onto the ideological progression, but whatever combination of these happened, what’s certain is that he did snap—because someone who is well can see the folly in murdering someone on the streets in cold blood. Someone who is unwell can rationalize that action, which is exactly what he did.

But we have another, more important layer that we can peel back in two places. When the police caught him in Altoona, Pennsylvania, he had an alleged manifesto—a few hundred words—and a spiral-bound notebook with specific notes that are alleged to be part of the planning of this crime. This is where it becomes very interesting, because the more specific that we get about the actual crime, the more it dovetails and mimics the narrative structure of radical left-wing ideologies, and, as I’ll argue, radical left-wing nihilism.

At the beginning of the supposedly handwritten manifesto, he says some boilerplate leftist lines—that we have the most expensive healthcare in the world and yet the 42nd longest life expectancy. In other words, we’re not getting the value that we’re putting into it. And the critical question is then: Why? And he has an answer. He denounces “the corruption and greed in the industry. He denounces their quest for “profit” and in the other notebook, he said he wanted to murder the CEO of the largest health insurance company at the annual, parasitic, bean-counter convention. We can break down each of those words. “Parasitic” is a left-wing trope: capitalist parasites extracting the labor of the working class—or in this case, insurance company parasites extracting from the pain of struggling Americans. Then he calls it a bean-counter convention. The CEO was trained as an accountant. The insult here is that you can’t put a price on health, on human beings, on goodness—but that’s exactly what these capitalist parasites do, and therefore, they deserve to be eliminated because they don’t have an appreciation for life. They merely monetize it and convert it into death.

What’s interesting about this manifesto is two things. One is that for a very smart person, he’s reduced it to very simplistic, left-wing narratives, and it was only a few hundred words. He didn’t even actually think through why he was committing the crime in detail. In fact, he says at one point, “I do not pretend to be the most qualified person to lay out the full argument about the corruption of America’s healthcare system”—and yet he felt he was educated enough to plot and execute a plan to murder this company’s CEO.

Beneath this admittedly surface-level, left-wing rhetoric, what is really happening here? It’s something that I have witnessed over the last few years and documented in various capacities, but it really comes into sharp focus here. It’s a form of left-wing nihilism.

Typically, the left likes to present itself as left-wing progressivism. “We’re going to make the world better. We’re going to provide more healthcare. We’re going to get a public option. We’re going to have the Affordable Care Act. We’re going to have a single-payer system that will provide care and value each human being.” That’s the narrative in a traditional left-wing progressivism. But once that wears off—certainly the failure of Obamacare contributes to this, certainly the failures of the Sanders-Warren wing of the party have contributed to this—as those narratives have been sloughed off and abandoned as impractical (more accurately, as counterproductive), you see a new form of left-wing nihilism, which is the other side of the coin of left-wing progressivism. “If we can’t build a healthcare system, let’s destroy the existing healthcare system”—and perhaps out of this catastrophic destruction, something better will emerge.

The reason for this is quite simple if you look at it from the outside honestly. Building a society and building a national healthcare system for 340 million people is hard. Assassinating an unsuspecting individual on the streets of Manhattan is relatively easy. So the energy gets directed into that direction because the energy seeks opportunity, and then whatever psychopathology that is living inside these individuals—and certainly, Luigi Mangione had some psychopathology living inside of him—can then use those narratives as an intellectual rationalization. He’s a smart person. He was seeking some rationale for what is likely a complex mix of ideological and personal reasons why he wanted to commit this crime.

What’s the big problem with this is obviously the murder. You should not murder people for no reason on the streets of Manhattan. This is obvious, although not as obvious as it should be. Some people are really struggling with that. But the second problem, and the deeper problem, is that it reveals the extent to which madness and nihilism have been baked into our culture. Someone who is an Ivy League graduate, someone who has a strong family network, someone who has wealth and health and opportunity ahead of him decides to go down this dark path. That’s why there’s a fascination about this case. If it was an unknown, anonymous vagrant who stabbed someone in the street, it’s a blip. But we’ve raised the stakes, because what this shows—and for those of us in the media who share the same kind of educational background as this individual, as both of these individuals—it creates this window that America’s elite is simultaneously failing to restrain the psychopathologies of too many young people, and that the elite ideologies—both the elite ideologies that are more conventional and the elite ideologies that are even more radical—offer no path of constructive action. In fact, they are preying on people who, for their own reasons, are feeling a sense of rage, a sense of destructiveness, a sense of passion. It gives them the keys and the language to act on that in highly symbolic ways, but nonetheless extremely destructive ways.

There’s a cynical element to this as well because those political actors on the left, while saying, “Oh, I condemn violence. Violence is bad. Murder is not okay”—that perfunctory caveat—they’re saying, “Well, maybe he had a point. Maybe the insurance executive had it coming. Maybe our healthcare system is broken.” What they’re doing is they’re harvesting psychopathology. They’re harvesting seemingly random acts of violence, and they’re using them as ammunition for their own political campaigns. They’re using the spectacle, this bloodthirsty spectacle, committed by a handsome, well-educated, intelligent young man, in order to advance progressivism on the back of nihilism.

Secondly, beyond the individual dynamics, what does this case represent as a whole? It represents a unique historical transition in our time from historical idealistic leftism to a historical nihilistic leftism. What I mean by that is really important. We’ve seen, especially this past few months, what I think of as the exhaustion of the BLM mass movement. BLM as a particular mass movement is finished. We saw that with the Daniel Penny verdict in New York this week. But what happens after the splintering, the self-devouring, and the self-destruction of left-wing mass movements is that they splinter into a multiplicity of fringe movements, and fringe movements even at the level of one individual…

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Christopher Rufo

America’s Verdict

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Christopher F. Rufo

What the Daniel Penny acquittal means for America

A New York City courtroom Monday issued a stunning verdict: Daniel Penny, a veteran US marine who restrained a threatening homeless subway rider named Jordan Neely, who later died in police custody, is not guilty of negligent homicide. And the verdict was not just about Penny. Make no mistake: the Black Lives Matter era of “restorative justice” is over and the real spirit of justice is returning to America.

Penny’s trial captured public attention because it dramatically emblematized this critical cultural faultline. Most immediately, it symbolized a recurrent theme in New York City about the failures of law enforcement, and the appropriate response to criminality. But it was also a story that the Left sought to turn into a racial morality play by repeating the BLM playbook they applied to the death of George Floyd, to Trayvon Martin, to Michael Brown and countless others.

In this story, Daniel Penny (“the white man” in the loaded description of the prosecutor Dafna Yoran) was a racist white man, who cruelly hunted down and killed an innocent black man (a “Micheal Jackson impersonator”) who was peacefully riding the subway. In this telling, neither man is an individual; rather, each is a symbol of a system of racist white supremacy, organized around enacting violence on black bodies, for no reason, in the United States, and across the world.

The first imperative of restorative justice is to recognize this crucial ideological context; a point which Penny’s hyper-ideological prosecutor Dafna Yoran made explicit in a widely circulated video in which she boasted of reducing a felony murder charge in a previous trial to a manslaughter charge because she “felt sorry” for the trauma which the African-American killer had endured.

Daniel Penny, naturally, received no such considerations. In his case, the restorative task was to scapegoat “the white man” in the service of advancing a radical pro-crime agenda, consistent with defunding the police and turning the US criminal justice system into a politically organized system of justice comparable to the two-tier justice system that now exists in the UK.

This was a task that was pursued both inside and outside the courtroom. As with the trial of Derek Chauvin in Minneapolis following the death of George Floyd, professional activists were mobilized to protest on the street outside the trial with the intention to manipulate proceedings: witnesses reported that the shouting of the activists were audible inside the courtroom. But this time, the jury did not surrender to pressure.

Jordan Neely was, in fact, like George Floyd: both were violent criminals with a long record of antisocial behavioral problems who suffered from drug problems, and eventually died under troubling circumstances. But Derek Chauvin’s jury failed in its duty to separate the facts from ideological myths, and failed to stand up to political pressure. Chauvin was convicted by a jury frightened into complicity, and effectively thrown to the mob.

By contrast, in New York Monday, another conception of justice prevailed. Despite the activists ringing the courtroom, a hostile media chumming the waters, and a highly irregular legal procedure which saw the prosecution withdrawing one of Penny’s charges on Friday in order to avoid a mistrial and seek conviction on a lesser charge, the jurors retained their composure, and stuck to the facts and the law. Whatever fear they may have felt, they overcame it, and Penny was correctly found not guilty.

What will happen next? My own suspicion is that the verdict will not generate anything like the violence, riots, and disorder that followed the death of George Floyd. Americans are finished with the failed regime of the Left. The past four years have clarified what “social justice” really means and exhausted all remaining patience for granting activists the benefit of the doubt. The extraordinary shamelessness of Jordan Neely’s father in launching a civil suit against Penny over the death of a son he didn’t raise exemplifies the moral emptiness that was formerly, by many, mistaken for social justice.

In reality, “social justice” was never about justice: it was about the political subversion of justice to achieve pathological and ideological ends. The contrast with Penny himself could not be more striking. Penny is not merely not guilty, he is an unambiguous hero, who correctly understood and carried out his duty, with great courage, in a dangerous situation. He believed that it was his duty to use his training to protect women and children from a violent individual with a previous record of subway assault, and he was right to do so.

Today’s verdict marks the end of an era. BLM, which seemed unstoppable four years ago, is finished. Its activists are discredited, and its grip on the public imagination is broken. No doubt the violent spirit of the movement will seek to resurface in the future, but a brutal and stupid decade of moral and judicial corruption has come to a close.

With its passing, the opportunity returns to truly confront the problems that have plagued American cities for a generation. Penny’s heroism should never have been necessary because Jordan Neely should never have been riding that train. Neely himself was failed by BLM and the ideology of social justice, just as Penny was persecuted by it: it was also social justice which, from misguided ideas of compassion, stopped Neely from getting the treatment he needed.

The correct moral attitude, as well as the right social policy, is to dismantle this system entirely—in academia and media, where it generates its alibis, but above all in criminal justice. That means holding the attorneys responsible for this shameful prosecution accountable, returning to the system of “broken windows” policing that made New York under Giuliani the safest big city in America—and extending that system across the rest of the United States.

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This article was originally published in IM—1776.

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