Language can be complicated. According to Merriam-Webster, the verb “blast” has as many as 15 different meanings — “to play loudly,” “to hit a golf ball out of a sand trap with explosive force,” “to injure by or as if by the action of wind.”
Recently, the word has added another definition to the list. Namely, “to attack vigorously” with criticism, as in, “to blast someone online” or “to put someone on blast.” This usage has become a common expression.
That’s what Leigha Lemoine, a student at Horry-Georgetown Technical College, meant when she posted in a private Snapchat group that a non-student who had insulted her needed to get “blasted.”
But HGTC’s administration didn’t see it that way. When some students claimed they felt uncomfortable with Lemoine’s post, the college summoned her to a meeting. Lemoine explained that the post was not a threat of physical harm, but rather a simple expression of her belief that the person who had insulted her should be criticized for doing so. The school’s administrators agreed and concluded there was nothing threatening in her words.
But two days later, things took a turn. Administrators discovered a video on social media of Lemoine firing a handgun at a target. The video was recorded off campus a year prior to the discovery, and had no connection to the “blasted” comment, but because she had not disclosed the video’s existence (why would she be required to?), the college decided to suspend her until the 2025 fall semester. Adding insult to injury, HGTC indicated she Lemoine would be on disciplinary probation when she returned.
HGTC administrators claim Lemoine’s post caused “a significant amount of apprehension related to the presence and use of guns.”
“In today’s climate, your failure to disclose the existence of the video, in conjunction with group [sic] text message on Snapchat where you used the term ‘blasted,’ causes concern about your ability to remain in the current Cosmetology cohort,” the college added.
Never mind the context of the gun video, which had nothing to do with campus or the person she said needed to get “blasted.” HGTC was determined to jeopardize Lemoine’s future over one Snapchat message and an unrelated video.
Colleges and universities would do well to take Lemoine’s case as a reminder to safeguard the expressive freedoms associated with humor and hyperbolic statements. Because make no mistake, FIRE will continue to blast the ones that don’t.
FIRE wrote to HGTC on Lemoine’s behalf on Oct. 7, 2024, urging the college to reverse its disciplinary action against Lemoine. We pointed out the absurdity of taking Lemoine’s “blasted” comment as an unprotected “true threat” and urged the college to rescind her suspension. Lemoine showed no serious intent to commit unlawful violence with her comment urging others to criticize an individual, and tying the gun video to the comment was both nonsensical and deeply unjust.
But HGTC attempted to blow FIRE off and plowed forward with its discipline. So we brought in the big guns — FIRE Legal Network member David Ashley at Le Clercq Law Firm took on the case, filing an emergency motion for a temporary restraining order. On Dec. 17, a South Carolina federal district court ordered HGTC to allow her to return to classes immediately while the case works its way through the courts.
Jokes and hyperbole are protected speech
Colleges and universities must take genuine threats of violence on campus seriously. That sometimes requires investigations and quick institutional action to ensure campus safety. But HGTC’s treatment of Lemoine is the latest in a long line of colleges misusing the “true threats” standard to punish clearly protected speech — remarks or commentary that are meant as jokes, hyperbole, or otherwise unreasonable to treat as though they are sincere.
Take over-excited rhetoric about sports. In 2022, Meredith Miller, a student at the University of Utah, posted on social media that she would detonate the nuclear reactor on campus (a low-power educational model with a microwave-sized core that one professor said “can’t possibly melt down or pose any risk”) if the football team lost its game. Campus police arrested her, and the Salt Lake County District Attorney’s Office charged her with making a terroristic threat.
The office eventually dropped the charge, but the university tried doubling down by suspending her for two years. It was only after intervention from FIRE and an outside attorney that the university relented. But that it took such significant outside pressure — especially over a harmless joke that was entirely in line with the kind of hyperbolic rhetoric one expects in sports commentary — reveals how dramatically the university overreacted.
Political rhetoric is often targeted as well. In 2020, Babson College professor Asheen Phansey found himself in hot water after posting a satirical remark on Facebook. After President Trump tweeted a threat that he might bomb 52 Iranian cultural sites, Phansey jokingly suggested that Iran’s leadership should publicly identify a list of American cultural heritage sites it wanted to bomb, including the “Mall of America” and the “Kardashian residence.” Despite FIRE’s intervention, Babson College’s leadership suspended Phansey and then fired him less than a day later.
Or consider an incident in which Louisiana State University fired a graduate instructor who left a heated, profanity-laced voicemail for a state senator in which he criticized the senator’s voting record on trans rights. The senator reported the voicemail to the police, who investigated and ultimately identified the instructor. The police closed the case after concluding that the instructor had not broken the law. You’re supposed to be allowed to be rude to elected officials. LSU nevertheless fired him.
More examples of universities misusing the true threats standard run the political gamut: A Fordham student was suspended for a post commemorating the anniversary of the Tianneman Square massacre; a professor posted on social media in support of a police officer who attacked a journalist and was placed on leave; an adjunct instructor wished for President Trump’s assassination and had his hiring revoked; another professor posted on Facebook supporting Antifa, was placed on leave, and then sued his college. Too often, the university discipline is made more egregious by the fact that administrators continue to use the idea of “threatening” speech to punish clearly protected expression even after local police departments conclude that the statements in question were not actually threatening.
What is a true threat?
Under the First Amendment, a true threat is defined as a statement where “the speaker means to communicate a serious expression of an intent to commit an act of unlawful violence to a particular individual or group of individuals.”
That eliminates the vast majority of threatening speech you hear each day, and for good reason. One of the foundational cases for the true threat standard is Watts v. U.S., in which the Supreme Court ruled that a man’s remark about his potential draft into the military — “If they ever make me carry a rifle, the first man I want to get in my sights is LBJ” — constituted political hyperbole, not a true threat. The Court held that such statements are protected by the First Amendment. And rightfully so: Political speech is where the protection of the First Amendment is “at its zenith.” An overbroad definition of threatening statements would lead to the punishment of political advocacy. Look no further than controversies in the last year and a half over calls for genocide to see how wide swathes of speech would become punishable if the standard for true threats was lower.
Colleges and universities would do well to take Lemoine’s case as a reminder to safeguard the expressive freedoms associated with humor and hyperbolic statements. Because make no mistake, FIRE will continue to blast the ones that don’t.
