Utah’s political landscape was rocked in September 2025 by the assassination of activist Charlie Kirk, a moment that thrust Governor Spencer Cox into the national spotlight. As the news broke and the suspect was apprehended, Cox delivered a public appeal that was as much personal as it was political. He urged Americans to “log off, turn off, touch grass, hug a family member, go out and do good in your community,” according to NPR. The governor’s plea for civility and reflection resonated far beyond Utah’s borders, sparking conversations about the role of politics, faith, and community in a deeply divided nation.
Governor Cox, a conservative Republican known for weaving his faith into his political life, found himself at the center of a national debate about the tone and tenor of American politics. “Politics is replacing religion,” Cox observed in his interview with NPR, expressing discomfort with what he sees as a growing tendency for people to seek identity and belonging in political tribes rather than in faith or community. This concern shaped his response to the Kirk tragedy, as he called on citizens to reconsider how they engage with politics—and with each other.
The governor’s message, delivered in the immediate aftermath of Kirk’s assassination, struck a chord with many. “We have to decide: Is this an off-ramp?” Cox reflected, suggesting that the country faced a choice between continuing down a path of division or seeking a new way forward. “Here we are months later, and the response continues to be overwhelmingly positive.” He recounted meeting a mother who shared that her son was inspired to redirect his life after hearing Cox’s remarks. The reach of his words extended internationally, with Cox hearing feedback as far away as New Zealand during a trade delegation visit, as reported by NPR.
Despite the positive reception from many quarters, Cox’s call for civility was not universally embraced. At the first gathering of Kirk’s organization, Turning Point USA, following the assassination, some in the crowd booed the governor. This reaction was perhaps unsurprising given the history between Cox and Kirk; in 2022, Kirk had called for Cox’s expulsion from the Republican Party after the governor vetoed legislation banning transgender athletes from girls’ sports in Utah schools. Cox stood by his decision, explaining to the Turning Point USA audience that the legislation targeted only a handful of athletes, was poorly conceived, and would likely result in lawsuits. Once he laid out his reasoning, the crowd’s mood shifted, and he received applause.
Cox’s approach to political disagreement has become something of a signature issue. He champions the idea of “disagreeing better”—treating opponents with civility and recognizing the necessity of working together. “We keep thinking if we just win this election, we’ll never have to work with those people,” he said. “But the Constitution requires that we will always have to work with those people. That’s how this gets done. We have to build coalitions.” He lamented the human tendency to seek “tribes” in politics, warning that this search for belonging can deepen divisions and erode the possibility of cooperation.
In the wake of Kirk’s assassination, Cox also addressed the broader question of responsibility and blame. While some voices called for holding entire ideological groups accountable for acts of violence, Cox pushed back. “If groups really are encouraging violence, then we should hold them accountable,” he told NPR. “But after the Kirk assassination, every single Democrat I know that I talked to about this was just appalled.” For Cox, the focus should be on the individual responsible, not on scapegoating entire communities. “In my faith, we believe in agency. We believe that we are responsible for our own decisions and that other people aren’t responsible for those. And so to try to attack an entire group of people or an ideology because of one person isn’t right and isn’t fair.”
Cox’s nuanced stance has earned him both praise and criticism from across the political spectrum. While some on the right have accused him of being insufficiently loyal to party orthodoxy, others have commended his willingness to engage with those who disagree with him. His leadership style—rooted in his faith and a commitment to civil discourse—stands in contrast to the combative tone that often dominates national politics.
The governor’s relationship with former President Donald Trump is emblematic of the complexities facing today’s Republican leaders. Cox did not support Trump in the 2016 or 2020 elections but chose to endorse him in 2024 after an assassination attempt on Trump in Butler, Pennsylvania. Cox described Trump’s survival as a “miracle” and argued that only Trump could unify the nation. Yet, when pressed, Cox admitted he doubted that unity had been achieved. “I think if you were to ask him that question, he would say no. I don’t think that’s happened.” Despite these reservations, Cox valued the endorsement as a way to maintain a relationship with the president—something he considered important for himself and for Utah.
After the Kirk assassination, Trump reached out to Cox, praising the governor’s appeal for unity. Cox noted, however, that Trump “hasn’t modeled that, and he sees the world a little differently than I do.” This candid acknowledgment underscores the persistent challenges facing any leader seeking to bridge the nation’s divides.
Governor Cox’s call for civility and coalition-building comes at a time when American politics is marked by deep polarization and frequent hostility. His belief that politics should not supplant religion or community as sources of meaning and identity is both a warning and an invitation. As the country grapples with the aftermath of violence and the pressures of partisan conflict, Cox’s message offers a rare note of hope: that Americans can choose a different path, one grounded in empathy, responsibility, and a willingness to “disagree better.”
For many in Utah and beyond, the governor’s response to tragedy has sparked reflection and, perhaps, a renewed commitment to the values of civility and community. Whether this moment marks a true turning point for the nation remains to be seen, but Cox’s appeal continues to echo—reminding Americans that the work of building bridges is never finished.