Why Are People Thirsting Over Luigi Mangione? The Ethical Dilemma Playing Out on Social Media
Mangione and the problem of prison rape jokes in LGBTQ+ culture
By now, it’s likely you know the name Luigi Mangione. You probably even have a mental image of him.
Mangione, of course, is the handsome 26-year-old Ivy League graduate who was arrested at a McDonald’s in Altoona, Pennsylvania, on Dec. 9 and charged with the second-degree murder of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson, along with various weapons charges.
Once Mangione made national news, his pictures instantly flooded the internet and he became something of a folk hero, despite the charges against him. While not everyone, of course, condoned this act of violence, Mangione was heralded by some as a symbol of populist justice striking back at a member of the elite class who, according to many, gained his status and resources on the broken backs (sometimes literally) of the sick and injured.
Mangione's looks have got him plenty of attention, particularly among some queer people, who have already cast him as a sex symbol. Even the somewhat grainy security camera images show a good-looking young man with a vibrant smile. Once his identity had been confirmed and his personal photos, like the one of him hiking shirtless — with his six-pack abs exposed — made it to every corner of the internet, the thirst became very real.
It’s not shameful to have complex, even competing thoughts about someone like Mangione. In fact, it’s quite human to be attracted physically to someone while still disavowing their actions, especially in the context of legal accountability. There is a long and ongoing history of social science research on the impact of perceived attractiveness on accountability measures of justice-involved individuals. For example, a study conducted in 2019 with funding from the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development indicates that while there may be some preferential treatment in arrest and conviction of individuals considered attractive, such considerations may have little or even negative impact on actual sentencing, especially for men. For men, at least, there seem to be no benefits or drawbacks to perceived attractiveness when it comes to sentencing, indicating that we can find people attractive and still hold them accountable for their actions.
So far, there has been varying levels of support for Mangione’s actions, too. According to ABC News, as of this writing, supporters have even created a defense fund currently valued at over $100,000. This is less a tacit acceptance of violence and more a symbol of the growing class divides in this country. This story has been a catalyst for many on social media to share their own horror stories of being denied coverage by their insurance companies and helping raise awareness of the real-life impact of a broken healthcare system.
But there's something that doesn't sit with me: remarks about how he'll fare in prison based on his looks. Cristobal Cardona wrote on Facebook that Mangione is “a rich kid that believes that murdering someone is the answer to society’s ills. What a fool. He’ll be popular in prison.” On Threads, @roocos_reality responded to a shirtless picture of Mangione by saying “he’s gonna be popular in jail.”
I’m particularly troubled by this as it's obviously code for prison rape. While some people might see it as just a joke, these kinds of comments are so deeply ingrained in our culture — even within the LGBTQ+ community — that we often fail to reflect on the harm they perpetuate.
Comments like these, intentionally or not, glamorize sexual assault. This is especially problematic for queer people. LGBTQ+ (and especially transgender) people are far more likely to be sexually assaulted while incarcerated than non-LGBTQ+ inmates, both by other inmates and by prison staff.
We’ve known for decades that most incidents of sexual assault go by unreported for many reasons. RAINN, the nation’s largest anti-sexual violence organization, reminds us that both robberies and non-sexual assault and battery crimes are twice as likely to be reported as sexual assaults. Too often, those charged with the protection of the public, including incarcerated people, do not take such reports seriously.
Even if the allegations are verifiable, these incidents are frequently swept under the rug, holding no one accountable and leading to deep mistrust in the criminal justice system. Another common reason for underreporting is the shame we place on people — cisgender men included — in situations of sexual violence. That shame and fear of disbelief, humiliation and retribution are powerful motivating factors for keeping one’s own experiences of sexual violence a secret.
The jokes I’ve seen about Luigi Mangione contribute to a larger issue. When we normalize sexual assault against incarcerated individuals and reduce serious violence to a punchline, it silences survivors and gives perpetrators more freedom to act without accountability.
Still, we can acknowledge our attractions to people without going overboard or causing harm to others who may have experienced such violence. It just takes us pausing for a moment and asking ourselves whether the joke we’re making does any unintended harm. Let’s give each other some grace here — we all say things we don’t fully think through — but let’s also commit to doing better whenever we can.