A Los Angeles Killing Highlights How Anti-Homeless Rhetoric and Public Perception Can Create a Climate of Increased Harm
Prosecutors say a 23-year-old man killed a homeless neighbor after growing angry about encampments near his home, in what authorities describe as an unprovoked attack—a case raising troubling questions about how frustration over homelessness can turn into violence.
Advocates and researchers say the killing may not be an isolated incident, but part of a broader and more troubling pattern. As frustration over homelessness intensifies—shaped by viral videos, political rhetoric, and policies that criminalize life on the streets—some warn of a dangerous shift: a climate where hostility toward unhoused people escalates, and in extreme cases, turns deadly.
“We are horrified by the murder of Travis Harker, who was killed in Los Angeles by his neighbor simply because he was homeless,” said Eric Tars, legal director at the National Homelessness Law Center.
“This does not exist in isolation—it is the result of policies at the local, state, and federal levels that criminalize homelessness and make it acceptable to treat people as disposable,” Tars said. “Politicians must reject anti-homeless laws and rhetoric and instead focus on what we know works: housing and support.”
Homelessness and Violence: Who Is Really at Risk?
Research has consistently shown that people experiencing homelessness are far more likely to be victims of violence than perpetrators—a reality advocates say is often overlooked in public discourse.
In Los Angeles, those risks are not theoretical. On Skid Row, where thousands of unhoused people live in close proximity, delays in housing, inconsistent access to care, and limited resources leave many people exposed to harm.
Pastor Cue Jn-Marie, a longtime community leader, said the consequences can be immediate: “Housing delayed is housing denied.”
The same tensions extend beyond city limits.
In nearby Orange County, Patrick Hogan—who has experienced homelessness and previously sued Caltrans over property seizures—said hostility toward unhoused people is often less visible but deeply embedded in everyday systems.
“There’s definitely an undercurrent of hatred toward [people experiencing homelessness]—but you see it in different ways,” Hogan said.
More often than not, he added, that hostility shows up not through direct violence, but through neglect.
“It’s not always people attacking the homeless,” he said. “The hospitals—once they find out you’re homeless—they’re kicking you out into the street, and you’re fending for yourself.”
Hogan recalled being hospitalized after suffering multiple broken bones in a bicycle accident. Once medical staff learned he did not have stable housing, he said, discharge quickly became the priority.
“There’s no plan,” he said. “You’re just out.”
Advocates say this kind of systemic neglect compounds the dangers unhoused people already face. Living outdoors often means isolation, instability, and limited access to care—conditions that can leave people especially vulnerable to both illness and violence.
In Los Angeles alone, thousands of people die each year without stable housing, often after falling through gaps in health care and housing systems. While exposure and illness are leading causes, advocates say violence—much of it unreported—remains a persistent and overlooked threat.
How Media and Rhetoric Shape Public Perception
Experts say public perception plays a critical role in shaping those outcomes.
Online, viral videos and livestreams frequently capture people in moments of crisis—stripped of context and amplified to millions. In comment sections, those images often reinforce narratives that portray unhoused individuals as dangerous, ungrateful, or beyond help.
The language does not remain buried in comment threads. It travels—from anonymous posts to broadcast studios—gaining legitimacy as it goes.
In a widely criticized segment last year, Fox & Friends co-host Brian Kilmeade suggested that mentally ill people experiencing homelessness who refuse treatment could face “involuntary lethal injection,” adding, “Just kill ’em.” He later apologized following backlash, calling the remark “extremely callous.”
Advocates say statements like these can normalize extreme thinking and increase the risk of real-world harm.
Mark Horvath, founder of Invisible People, has warned that media portrayals play a powerful role in shaping those attitudes. “Millions of people watch every day, and it’s shaping harmful beliefs about homelessness and homeless people,” he said.
Over time, Hogan said that language reshapes how people see those living on the streets.
“They’re not talking about people as individuals,” he said. “It’s just ‘the homeless’ or ‘the unhoused’—like it’s a disease or an epidemic. It’s not people you’re talking about.”
That shift in perception, advocates warn, can erode empathy—and, in some cases, justify hostility.
What begins as frustration over visible poverty can evolve into something more dangerous: a belief that homelessness itself is a threat that must be removed.
When Dehumanization Becomes Dangerous
For Hogan, the Los Angeles killing reflects the same hostility he described—anger over an unhoused person’s presence turning into violence.
“This guy can’t put a tent in front of someone’s house—so why go out and kill him?” he said. “What are you afraid of?”
Fear and distrust, he added, now shape daily life for many living on the streets.
“The fear is so prevalent,” Hogan said. “People don’t trust anybody anymore.”
That distrust extends beyond individuals to institutions, outreach efforts, and even potential allies. Many unhoused people avoid speaking out or seeking help, fearing legal consequences or further displacement.
“All they’re trying to do is duck and dodge and make it through another day,” he said.
As debates over homelessness grow more heated across the country, advocates warn the consequences may extend beyond policy—into how people see and treat one another.
The question raised by the Los Angeles case is not only what happened, but what kind of climate made it possible.