The myth of the lone wolf

We are just weeks into 2025, and we’ve already seen multiple horrific acts of violence. From New Orleans to Las Vegas, the violence has triggered endless analysis of the motives of the perpetrators — specifically whether they acted alone or as a part of a larger movement. In that analysis, some familiar tropes have emerged. One such trope is the myth of the lone wolf — a narrative that is profoundly problematic. Its application is also profoundly racist.

I have some empathy for why we embrace this narrative. As our news feeds are filled with reports of political violence, mass shootings, and hate crimes, we seek answers that make the horrific marginally more palatable. Where we can understand something isolated, unexpected, or out of the realm of what we would consider “normal”. Ultimately, we want the assurance that such a thing would never happen to us.

We want to be able to say “this is not who we are” and believe it. But what if this is who we are?

Every time I read a statement about how someone acted alone, like their act of violence was a random splash of paint on an otherwise blank canvas, I shake my head in a bit of despair. Yes, such statements may serve to bring some comfort to a populace that is drinking from a firehose of anxiety provoking news, but it also serves to flatten our responses to extremism in our society. Our need to feel better is too often overriding our need to act with urgency against extremist violence.

If you treat every act of violence as an isolated incident, you don’t have to face patterns of extremism and hate. The lone wolf narrative assigns blame to the individual without examining larger dynamics that may have served as inspiration for those actions, such as violent rhetoric in our political discourse, emboldened misogyny, racism, and other forms of hate. To be clear, every individual is ultimately responsible for their own actions. But when so many of those individuals leave manifestos and social media accounts laden with hateful rhetoric and racist conspiracy theories shouldn’t we start connecting those dots?

Take for example Matthew Livelsberger, who earlier this month blew up a Cybertruck in Las Vegas. He left letters filled with grievances, including calling DEI a “cancer”. But much of the response to Las Vegas incident focused on the bomber’s struggles and the isolated nature of the horrific actions. FBI Special Agent Spencer Evans had this to say: “It’s evident that [Livelsberger] considered, planned, and thoughtfully prepared for this act alone.” Evans added that despite the public nature of the incident, it “ultimately appears to be a tragic case of suicide involving a heavily decorated combat veteran who was suffering with PTSD and other issues.” A fairly sympathetic take on this particular lone wolf.

But this is assuredly not how we talk about every public act of violence. People of color and immigrant communities are not afforded the grace of being considered as an individual, or given a sympathetic backstory. They are almost always seen as representatives of their larger community. Their individual crimes (real or fabricated) are used to paint a broad picture of criminality for everyone else who looks like them or hails from the same country as them. And as we have seen over and over again this past election season, their crimes are amplified in service to a political viewpoint, grievance, or candidate. Every time a white woman is harmed by an immigrant, particularly an undocumented one, politicians who otherwise remain silent about domestic/sexual violence are suddenly inspired to speak out against such violence and the dangers of immigration. They use these incidents to demonize entire groups of people, making all immigrants/communities of color responsible for the actions of one.

Just last month, a woman was set on fire while asleep on a New York City subway. A horrific murder, which should elicit deep conversations about violence against women and the constant risk faced by homeless individuals. But instead the conversation has been dominated by the immigration status of the assailant, turning into another political rallying point for those who seek a much harsher approach to immigration, particularly when the victim was (incorrectly) thought to be a young white woman.

It is the direct opposite of the lone wolf narrative and absolutely a tactic of white supremacy.

To take it a step further, Donald Trump ran an entire campaign on the lie of immigrant crime, painting entire groups of people as criminals who threaten the safety of Americans. He used his immense platform to amplify individual acts of violence committed by immigrants to support his vile narrative. And I fear he will now use his presidency to terrorize immigrants, putting forth a handful of incidents to justify harming immigrants as a whole. As he is already threatening to do in Chicago immediately after his inauguration.

So my small plea on my smallish platform - let’s call out the danger (and racist application) of the lone wolf trope. A trope that is not just wrong, but ultimately allows violence to continue unabated. Let’s also call out when the crimes of one are used to punish an entire community. We must call out the hypocrisy of who is afforded grace and who is not. Who is given the benefit of a back story and who is guilty by association.

Violence thrives in silence. We have to get very loud.