Storytelling has always played a huge part in American culture since its inception; it is something every nation on Earth shares.

When talking about American politics, a completely new branch of the storytelling playbook has evolved. Political storytelling has always leaned on emotion. Modern media operations turned emotional storytelling into a reliable production line: There's a tragedy, a grieving voice steps forward, cameras gather, and a narrative forms almost overnight.

Sympathy becomes the fuel that powers weeks or months of airtime.

In 2005, Cindy Sheehan, whose son Army Specialist Casey Sheehan died during the Iraq War, became a national symbol of opposition to President George W. Bush. Sheehan camped outside Bush's Texas ranch and demanded answers about the war, with grief at the center of every interview.

The woman's grief deserved respect, yet media organizations built a political platform around that pain and endlessly repeated the story until she had no further value and drifted away into the static of a broken cable signal.

That became the latest in a growing trend.

In 2016, Khizr Khan, the father of U.S. Army Captain Humayun Khan, spoke at the Democratic National Convention and criticized President Donald Trump, then the Republican nominee.

Khan held a pocket Constitution as he spoke about his son's sacrifice. Khan's story deserved respect for the loss his family endured. Following the script, media coverage quickly turned the moment into a sustained political storyline that dominated the election cycle for days.

In 2018, Fred Guttenberg, father of Jaime Guttenberg, one of the students killed in the Parkland school shooting, became a leading activist pushing for gun legislation. David Hogg, also a Parkland student who was near the attack, emerged as another prominent media voice calling for sweeping political action. Both appeared frequently on television panels and political stages, where their emotional testimony drew attention, translating into influence and national visibility.

Guttenberg has remained an active voice in the gun safety lobby. Hogg, meanwhile, played his role into scholarships and a lucrative social media career, providing a platform for ill-conceived statesmanship that he never earned.

The Summer of Love in 2020 introduced another example with a significant and lasting national impact. George Floyd died during an arrest involving Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin. Floyd's death sparked riots, protests, and sweeping political rhetoric across the U.S.

In the same 9 minutes and 29 seconds, 18 customers went in and out of the convenience store on the corner. Six patrons bought beverages or snacks from the coffee shop across the street. Four people signed up for a guided tour of the neighborhood in front of the gas station. Four visiting Chicagoans took pictures of the flowers, stuffed animals, potted plants, posters, and other ephemera that form a makeshift memorial. 

The death generated widespread coverage and fueled weeks of emotional programming that shaped the national conversation.

Some people stepped into the spotlight through genuine grief; others embraced it with obvious enthusiasm.

The newest member of that second group is Sen. Thom Tillis (R-N.C.), who recently attacked White House Deputy Chief of Staff for Policy Stephen Miller, demanding Miller's removal from the administration.

Sunday on CNN’s “State of the Union,” Sen. Thom Tillis (R-NC) said White House adviser Stephen Miller should leave because he was a “big problem” in the Trump administration.

Tillis said, “It gives me pause that you had people like Stephen Miller calling the shots, that actually, I believe that maybe Kristi Noem acted on. It was Stephen Miller who was talking about a terrorist brandishing a gun. It was Stephen Miller who said that the United States' position was that we should go after Greenland. It’s Stephen Miller who has repeatedly embarrassed the President of the United States by acting too quickly, speaking first, and thinking later. I don’t think Markwayne goes to the podium and repeats something that Stephen Miller says. I think Stephen Miller has demonstrated. He, too, is out of his depth. And I think I think Markwayne will learn from that.”

Host Jake Tapper said, “Do you think Stephen Miller should go?”

Tillis said, “Oh, of course I do.”

Tillis has been repeating the criticism publicly and has continued to amplify the conflict through interviews and statements directed at the administration. The campaign placed Tillis squarely in front of television cameras, eager to showcase any Republican willing to attack President Donald Trump or his advisors.

Tillis affirmed support for Department of Homeland Security Secretary pick Markwayne Mullin to replace Kristi Noem, claiming he believes Mullin will be independent from Miller’s influence, even though Mullin repeated similar falsehoods about the killings by federal agents of Alex Pretti and Renee Good.

“It gives me pause that you had people like Stephen Miller calling the shots,” Tillis added. “It was Steven Miller who said it was the position of the United States that we should go after Greenland. And Stephen Miller, that’s been repeatedly responsible for embarrassments for the President of the United States by acting too quickly, speaking first, and thinking later.”

Political reality places Tillis in a different category from grieving parents: Sheehan lost a son in war, Khan lost a son who served in uniform, and Guttenberg buried a daughter. Those stories contain real pain that no political argument can erase.

Figures like Hogg, Tillis, or Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-Ga.) work under entirely different conditions; each understands how attention works, how cameras reward confrontation, and how political fame quickly grows when conflict enters the frame.

Modern media outlets thrive on emotional engagement because viewers respond more strongly to human stories than to policy debates. Political strategists recognize the same truth: a powerful personal story often pushes complicated policy questions out of the spotlight.

Criticism of those people quickly gets labeled as immoral. Anybody who challenges the media narrative risks accusations of cruelty toward the story's central figure, as emotional armor protects the message and shields it from scrutiny.

Even though I'm focusing on the leftist media in this column, these are tools effectively used by both sides. The biggest stage for introducing personal stories is the State of the Union address.

Yet the cycle isn't immortal.

Once that storyline loses energy, media attention quickly shifts to the next object the red laser spotlight rests on. People who once dominated interviews often disappear as quietly as they arrived, and new personalities replace the previous ones, thus beginning a new cycle.

Tillis now occupies a familiar role in that pattern; he's not breaking any law. Our First Amendment allows every person, including elected officials, the right to speak freely, even when those comments target the president of their own party. That freedom remains a defining strength of American political life.

North Carolina voters, however, may eventually ask a simpler question: Whose interests are served when their senator spends more time attacking his own administration than representing his state?

I'm 100% positive Tillis's retirement from Congress has absolutely nothing to do with his latest string of vocal daggers towards the Trump administration. We can all look forward to Tillis becoming a permanent guest on MSNOW, where he'll be identified in the chyron as a conservative Republican.

Political attention rarely lasts forever; the spotlight moves on, and the shelf waiting behind the camera grows crowded.

Independent journalism depends on readers who want reporting that cuts through political theater and media spin. PJ Media VIP members receive deeper analysis, exclusive columns, and a direct way to support writers who refuse to follow the herd. Use promo code FIGHT to receive a steep 60% discount on a VIP membership today.