This week’s article is a difficult one to write. Yet it feels important to try.

One of the most significant events of last week was the tragic, publicly aired murder of conservative activist Charlie Kirk while giving a talk at a U.S. university.

Kirk was undoubtedly a polarising figure. Watching clips of his debates with students, I often thought him charismatic, erudite, and brave. At the same time, by speaking so openly about deeply controversial issues — from LGBTQ+ rights to the Palestinian conflict — he inevitably triggered strong reactions. Early reports suggest his killer may have been radicalised, perhaps offering some context (though never justification) for the crime.

What is remarkable is how polarisation has only deepened since his death. Supporters and detractors alike cling ever more tightly to their positions — a textbook example of attribution bias.

When we admire someone, we explain away their flaws as bad luck, conspiracy, or unfair society, while crediting their strengths to their own character and skill. When we dislike someone, the bias flips: their flaws and misfortunes are seen as proof of bad character, while their strengths are dismissed as mere luck or privilege.

This fuels the hostile tone of so many debates. Each side instinctively straw-mans the other (attacking the weakest version of their argument) while steel-manning their own (presenting it in the strongest possible light).

Why? Because those we admire often embody our ideal selves. To see them attacked feels like part of us is being attacked. And what we believe, once entrenched, ossifies into our identity.

That is why polarised discussions feel so personal. Comments against someone we revere are experienced as comments against us.

The challenge is not to escape this tendency, but to become aware of it. The next time you’re in a heated debate, pause and ask:

– Am I falling into attribution bias? – Am I straw-manning the other side and steel-manning my own?

Whether in politics, business, or even team meetings, attribution bias can distort how we interpret others’ actions. Awareness isn’t just about empathy — it’s a leadership skill.

Breaking the cycle isn’t easy, because the dynamics of a polarising debate are visceral — it often turns into an intellectual sword-fight rather than a mutual search for truth. What’s really at stake is our status, and our need to defend not only what we believe but also who we are (and our sense that we’ve chosen those beliefs wisely).

The first step to break the cycle is to see that both sides are often driven by the same fear of not being good enough — and to recognise the other as someone struggling to hold onto the subjective reality they believe is “right.”

How about you?

Do you often find yourself pulled into polarising debates?

Do your arguments feel like personal attacks? How do you handle such situations?

May Charlie Kirk rest in peace – and may we learn from this tragedy about the dangers of division.

Have a productive week ahead,

Philippos