Can Speech Be Violence?

Campaign Briefing: Navigating harm without erasing freedom

2028 Presidential Campaign of Martin A. Ginsburg, RN December 2, 2025

I. Introduction: The Question That Defines the Debate

“If all discomfort is violence, then all dissent becomes assault—and democracy becomes impossible.”

Few questions in modern civic discourse have reshaped public conversation more profoundly than this: Can speech be violence? What was once considered metaphor has, in some circles, become doctrine. The implications are sweeping. If the answer is yes, then speech can be regulated like physical assault. If the answer is no, then the emotional and psychological harm experienced by targets of verbal cruelty may be dismissed as inconsequential. Either extreme presents real risks.

This is no longer an abstract debate among philosophers. It now informs university policies, corporate HR guidelines, platform moderation standards, and even legislative proposals. It affects who is allowed to speak, how disagreement is interpreted, and whether emotional reactions should carry legal or institutional force.

This question defines the line between what society tolerates and what it prohibits—and it determines who draws that line.

II. Understanding the Claim That Speech Is Violence

Advocates of the view that speech can be violence often begin with a well-meaning premise: that words can do real, measurable harm. This perspective draws on trauma psychology, lived experience, and the power of language to exclude, threaten, or invalidate identities.

• Racial slurs are not merely offensive—they echo histories of dehumanization.

• Misgendering or deadnaming transgender individuals is viewed as not only disrespectful, but a denial of personhood.

• Online harassment and coordinated dogpiling are said to produce trauma responses similar to physical abuse, particularly when sustained over time.

Within this framework, harm is not metaphorical. It is neurological, psychological, and systemic. And if harm is violence, then speech causing harm must be violence too.

Supporters of this view often seek to expand institutional responsibility. Universities should disinvite speakers. Workplaces should fire employees. Platforms should ban users. The goal is protection—especially of marginalized people—but the result is often suppression.

If speech is violence, then restrictions on speech become not only permissible, but morally required.

III. Understanding the Claim That Speech Is Not Violence

Those who reject the equation of speech with violence argue that the two operate in fundamentally different spheres: force and persuasion. This perspective is rooted in centuries of legal precedent, classical liberal philosophy, and the practical functioning of pluralistic society.

Speech, they argue, is the means by which disagreement is processed rather than escalated. It is the antidote to violence, not its equivalent. Words may hurt—but they do not break bones, spill blood, or imprison.

Critics of the “speech is violence” claim also warn against the authoritarian potential of such logic. If discomfort equals danger, then institutions will feel compelled to suppress speech in order to maintain emotional security. But emotional responses are subjective. What wounds one person may inspire another. Thus, any enforcement based on perceived harm risks arbitrariness, inconsistency, and overreach.

They argue:

• Resilience must be cultivated, not outsourced to institutions.

• Power must not be given to those who define “harm” most aggressively.

• The path to justice is paved with uncomfortable conversations—not their avoidance.

This position does not dismiss the emotional consequences of speech. Rather, it insists that speech’s regulation must preserve liberty even while acknowledging hurt.

IV. The Legal and Philosophical Distinction

In Anglo-American jurisprudence, violence traditionally refers to the use of physical force intended to injure, damage, or destroy. Speech is protected not because it never causes harm, but because its function is different: it is meant to convey thought, invite reflection, or challenge norms.

To collapse this distinction is to conflate action with expression. It is to treat the mind’s discomfort as equivalent to the body’s injury. But they are not the same.

Aristotelian ethics offers a helpful perspective here. Aristotle taught that the highest goal of life is the pursuit of eudaimonia—human flourishing. And human flourishing depends on civic participation, which in turn depends on reasoned discourse. For Aristotle, the logos—the rational faculty expressed in speech—was what distinguished humans from animals. The good is achieved not by avoiding discomfort, but by cultivating virtue: courage, temperance, justice, and wisdom.

If we replace virtue with fragility, we abandon the pursuit of the good for the avoidance of pain.

This view frames speech not as a danger to be mitigated, but as the medium through which a just society refines itself.

V. The Risk to Civic Life

When speech is treated as violence, several civic risks emerge:

1. Suppression of Dialogue: People grow reluctant to voice disagreement, fearing accusation. Topics of public importance—race, religion, sex, inequality—become off-limits.

2. Expansion of Punitive Tools: Censorship, deplatforming, firing, and social ostracization become tools not just for targeting hate, but silencing dissent.

3. Delegitimization of Institutions: Citizens lose faith in universities, media, and courts when those institutions appear more concerned with protecting feelings than defending truth.

But there are risks in the opposite direction too. If society never acknowledges the harm speech can cause:

• Survivors of trauma may be retraumatized without support.

• Bigotry may be normalized under the guise of “free expression.”

• Legitimate calls for inclusive dialogue may be dismissed as censorship.

The challenge is not choosing between harm and liberty. It is ensuring that liberty includes the right to challenge harm—without criminalizing speech itself.

VI. This Campaign’s Stand: Protect Speech, Address Harm, Preserve the Line

We affirm without ambiguity: speech is not violence. But we also affirm: words can cause pain, and society has a role in addressing it—without curtailing liberty.

Our position is both principled and practical:

• We defend the legal distinction. Violence is physical. Speech is expressive. The two must be regulated differently, or we risk eroding foundational freedoms. We oppose any expansion of criminal law to treat offensive speech as criminal assault.

• We support open dialogue about harm. People deserve spaces to express how language affects them, especially when speech reinforces stigma or exclusion. But the answer to bad speech is more speech—not institutional silence.

• We reject trigger censorship. We oppose the removal of literature, disinvitations of speakers, and chilling of classroom discussion due to emotional discomfort. We believe students, professionals, and citizens must be prepared to encounter difficult content.

• We affirm that resilience is a civic skill. We teach children not only to express themselves but to endure critique. We model in schools that disagreement is not danger. We help communities respond to painful language without shutting down dialogue.

Words have no power unless we give it to them. Their power to harm or heal resides not in the syllables, but in how we receive, interpret, and respond. The strength of a republic lies not in everyone agreeing, but in everyone speaking—and remaining resilient enough to listen.

We will not police intention. We will not criminalize reaction. We will not weaponize vulnerability. But we will build a culture where strength is defined by participation, not insulation.

To speak is not to strike. To offend is not to attack. To disagree is not to harm.

This campaign stands for a politics of liberty and empathy—where words are used freely, listened to generously, and answered with reason. Because democracy dies not only when people are silenced, but when they become too afraid to speak.

The line between harm and violence must be preserved—because when it blurs, liberty disappears.