Watching my son’s football game, it felt as if there was an inflection point. The game got off to a rocky start—their offense stumbled on the first drive, the defense gave up a score, and that was the story of the first half. But in the second half, the game’s momentum changed—the defense sparked a three-and-out, their offense finally got on the board, and it was a whole new game. Even luck tilted in their favor, unlike the first half.

So what happened?

How does a team that gave up eight points rally to score fourteen in a comeback?

An inflection point is a change where it feels as if a giant pendulum has swung, reached a peak in one direction, and shifted to a new or opposite course. The momentum shift may become clear only afterward, but often it’s something detectable in the air—an event or palpable shift in attitude that changes the entire complexion. In the game, it could’ve been a small adjustment by the coaches or simply an opportunity to reflect on mistakes and correct them. It could be that the ball broke in the right direction, a matter of probabilities, with the change mostly an illusion. But football is an emotional sport, and even dumb luck can inspire better play from everyone.

We also witnessed a similar shift during the presidential election. Biden was apparently leading in the polls (if such things are to be believed), and then Butler happened. The event came after the disastrous first presidential debate, where Biden clearly was not as advertised, yet it was the image of defiance—“fight, fight, fight”—that sealed the deal. Elon Musk saw this as reason to put his full weight behind Trump, and with a few McDonald’s drive-through moments and photo ops with garbage trucks, the greatest upset win since 2016 was complete.

The paragraphs above were written before the murder of Charlie Kirk. Over the past few days, he went from the “prove me wrong” guy debating college kids to the center of a national debate. Since his death, there has been a groundswell of support. As those on the left reveal themselves through celebrations of his death and mockery, Kirk’s Turning Point organization has been flooded with 54,000 requests for new chapters at high schools and colleges. His death is a catalyst, much like the two assassination attempts against Trump, and a potential inflection point in the national conversation.

Before the U.S. Civil War officially began, there was an early attempt to free the slaves. John Brown, an evangelical Christian, believed he was on a mission from God to end slavery in the U.S. and led an insurrection that ended with a raid on a federal armory at Harpers Ferry in October 1859. Even before this, the issue of legal slavery had resulted in violent confrontations. In 1837, the abolitionist Elijah Parish Lovejoy was shot while facing down a mob of pro-slavery vandals who were attempting to destroy his printing press. This event sent shockwaves through the U.S. and galvanized John Brown to publicly declare:

“Here, before God, in the presence of these witnesses, from this time, I consecrate my life to the destruction of slavery.”

As a writer, I do not create the sentiment of my audience. I merely put into words what other people are thinking or help them organize their thoughts. In other words, if it resonates, it is only because I’ve stated something they’ve already noticed. It also emboldens—when people realize they are not alone in what they see—which is how regimes fall. When people know that others share their understanding and are given a means to articulate it, all it takes is a little push to turn popular sentiment into decisive action.

Synchronicity is one way to describe this. I have often observed many of my friends—likely tuned into similar sources and sharing the same basic assumptions—simultaneously reach an identical conclusion in response to events.

The assassination of Kirk is a moment that galvanizes. It has starkly illustrated how far apart the two partisan sides have become. Some celebrate the murder, spewing vile hatred for a man who was truly a moderate with views similar to those of many Americans. Others are rightly appalled, realizing there is no reasoning or unity with those who believe disagreement deserves a death sentence—that Kirk deserved the bullet.

In a civil society, matters can be debated. If a person says things we don’t like, we still honor their human rights and show respect despite disagreement. But to those on the far left, a statement of fact or an opinion they hate is declared “hate speech,” and saying it out loud constitutes a crime of “spreading hate” that deserves death. This is not an embellishment—a direct quote: “Let this be a lesson to all those conservative freaks, all those weirdos… you’re next in line.” This is a threat we must take seriously when the other side laughs and mocks Kirk’s death—they are not like us.

This is an inflection point, one of those culminating moments where conservatives are independently reaching the same conclusion, and a movement can become galvanized. It will arm Trump to crack down on Antifa and the left-wing in ways he could not have before, with the critical mass of public support he needs.

In reality, Charlie Kirk wasn’t an extremist leading anything; he represented the quiet majority who are still able to appreciate the difference between men and women and who want laws applied equally for the protection of all Americans—not favoritism or special preferences for some based on identity or political ideology. They are Charlie. He did not radicalize anyone. All he did was try to explain his perspective and articulate what many believe. But he will now be a rallying cry—like the death of Lovejoy that led to John Brown’s vow—that point in a conflict where the tolerance has been exhausted and it is necessary for the sane to make a stand.

Even for me, as someone who attempts to stake out a position independent of both popular sides, I must go with the side least likely to kill me as a default. There’s nothing I share in common with those who are gleeful and cracking jokes about a man deliberately killed in front of his fans, wife, and young daughters. Cheering for domestic terrorism cannot be tolerated. The backlash against those who couldn’t show civility even after a man’s murder will be a turning point, like the momentum shift in a football game—the people are done playing nice with these monsters.