Does It Matter? — In Defense Of A Man's Right Not To Quantify

Victor Marx is sixty years old. He is a Marine Corps veteran. He runs All Things Possible Ministries out of Colorado Springs, a nonprofit that describes its mission as "hunting predators" and rescuing trafficking victims in dangerous countries abroad. He is married with five children and grandchildren. He has raised more campaign money than his two Republican primary opponents combined. And when 9News anchor Kyle Clark sat him down for a thirty-minute interview and asked him how many people he has killed, Marx gave the following answer:

"Does it matter?" — Victor Marx, when asked by Kyle Clark how many people he has killed

I would like to defend this answer. I believe it is the most honest thing a politician has said on camera in years, and I believe the press is punishing him for it, and I believe that when you look at the full context of the interview you will agree with me that this man is being treated unfairly simply because he declined to provide a number.

"As A Child, Yes. Without Question."

Let us begin with what is not in dispute. Marx has spoken publicly, in his ministry work and in his own memoir, about being forced by his abusive stepfather to kill someone when he was seven years old. This is a matter of public record. It is part of his testimony. No one holds it against him. The first one is not the issue.

The issue is what Clark asked next. He asked whether that was the only time Marx had killed someone. And Marx paused. For more than ten seconds. He took a deep breath. He looked upward. And then he said:

"Well, I would say, as a—as a child, yes. Without question." — Victor Marx, on whether the age-seven killing was the only time

I want to draw your attention to the precision of this answer, because the press has been treating it as evasion when it is in fact the most carefully constructed sentence in the history of Colorado politics. As a child, yes. He answered the question he was asked. He confirmed it was the only time as a child. The clause does exactly what it is designed to do. It draws a clean line at the end of childhood, and what is on the other side of that line is a separate conversation he is not interested in having.

And this is what the press refuses to see: the man's language. A liar would have said "yes, that was the only time." Simple, clean, false. A braggart would have leaned in and said "I've done what needed to be done" and let you fill in a number. Victor Marx did neither. He will not claim glory for whatever he has done and he will not deny it. He scoped his answer to childhood with the discipline of a man who gives information on a need-to-know basis, and he decided you do not need to know. He is not a war hero. He is not a liar. He refuses to pretend to be either one just because a journalist is sitting in his training center with a camera. He simply declines. A weaker man would have given you a number. A dishonest man would have given you zero. Marx gave you a subordinate clause and moved on with his life.

"There's No Count On That"

Clark, to his credit or his discredit depending on your perspective, did not let it go. He asked Marx directly about adult killings. And Marx explained that he had "possibly" been involved in deaths while "defending myself in other countries." He then added:

"There's no count on that." — Victor Marx, on the number of people he may have killed as an adult

There's no count. I want to sit with this phrase because I think it is the most revealing and the most admirable thing Marx said in the entire interview. He did not say "zero." He did not say "a few." He did not say "I'd rather not answer." He said there is no count. The count does not exist. Not that he won't share it. Not that it's classified. That there isn't one.

Now. There are two ways to read this. The press reads it as: the number is so large or so uncomfortable that he has chosen not to count. I read it as: this is a man of action who has been in difficult situations in dangerous countries and who did not pause to keep a ledger. You don't count. You act. You defend yourself. You move to the next room. You come home. You run for governor. The absence of a count is not a scandal. It is a workflow.

"It's Actually Kind Of—It's An Odd Question To Me"

When Clark pressed the direct question one more time, Marx gave the answer that became the headline:

Clark suggested that killing people is, in fact, significant. Marx disagreed:

"There's no need. I don't think that's important. It's actually kind of—it's an odd question to me." — Victor Marx, on the significance of knowing how many people he has killed

An odd question. Let that land. "How many people have you killed" is an odd question to the frontrunner in the Republican primary for governor of Colorado. He did not say it was a painful question. He did not say it was a private question. He said it was odd. It struck him as a strange thing to be asked. The way you'd find it odd if someone asked you how many times you've sneezed. You know it's happened. You know it's happened more than once. But you didn't think anyone was keeping score, and the fact that someone is keeping score strikes you as a little unusual, and frankly kind of nosy. That is where Victor Marx lives, psychologically, on the question of how many people he has killed. It just isn't a category he thinks about very much. And I find that deeply, deeply reassuring.

And then he offered one final clarification:

"Well, if I did, I wouldn't be telling a reporter sitting here in my training center." — Victor Marx, on whether he would disclose his body count to the press

Note the setting. His training center. Not his office. Not a conference room. Not a café. The man invited a television journalist to his training center to ask him about killing, and then reminded the journalist that he was sitting in his training center. And his answer, decoded: if I did (conditional, preserving deniability), I wouldn't be telling a reporter (establishing who does and does not have clearance for this information), sitting here in my training center (a gentle reminder of where you are and what kind of training happens here). I don't know what you call that. I call it presence. The man is aware of every room he is in, at all times, and he wants you to be aware of it too. That is not a threat. That is spatial leadership.

The Rescues

I should address the rescue numbers, because this is where the press has been the most dishonest in its framing.

Marx's campaign website originally stated that All Things Possible Ministries had rescued over 45,000 women and children from trafficking. Forty-five thousand. That is an extraordinary number. It is, in fact, so extraordinary that the campaign removed it from the website after questions were raised.

When Clark asked for the real number, Marx said:

"I would say it's more than one, and less than a bunch." — Victor Marx, on the number of trafficking victims his ministry has rescued

More than one. Less than a bunch. The number went from 45,000 to somewhere in the range of two to a bunch, and the press is treating this as a credibility problem. I am treating it as the most honest recalibration in the history of nonprofit accounting. Most organizations, caught inflating a number by a factor of several thousand, would revise downward modestly. They'd say 30,000. They'd say 12,000. They'd hire a consultant to produce a methodology that arrived at 38,742 and call it independently verified.

Marx burned the number to the foundation and rebuilt it from the only two facts he was sure of: it was more than one, and it was less than a bunch. That is a range you can trust. That is a floor and a ceiling that no fact-checker can dispute. More than one. Verified. Less than a bunch. Also verified, because "a bunch" is not a number and therefore cannot be exceeded.

The Qualification

Marx is the fundraising leader in a three-way Republican primary. His opponents are State Senator Barbara Kirkmeyer and State Representative Scott Bottoms. By May he had raised more money than both of them combined. He is a Marine veteran. He is a grandfather. He runs a ministry. And when a journalist asked him the simplest possible version of a very important question, he responded with a question of his own, and the question was: does it matter?

And I need you to stop and think about what kind of man can do that. Not what kind of man has an uncountable body count. What kind of man can sit across from a television journalist, on camera, in his own training center, and say "does it matter" about how many people he has killed, and mean it. That is not a scandal. That is a core competency. That is a man who has looked at the most disqualifying possible question in American politics and decided it simply does not apply to him. Do you know how much confidence that takes? Do you know what it costs a man, psychologically, to hear "how many people have you killed" and feel annoyed by the question? Barbara Kirkmeyer cannot do that. Scott Bottoms cannot do that. Name a governor in any state in this country who could sit in that chair and give that answer with that pause and that face. You can't. Because they haven't lived it.

And the rescues. The press wants you to see a man who said 45,000 and meant "more than one." I see a man who is so focused on the mission that he does not count the people he saves any more carefully than he counts the people he kills. That is consistency. The man does not do numbers. Not for the bodies, not for the rescues. He is out there, in whatever country, doing whatever he does, and he is not pausing to update a spreadsheet. He is not optimizing his metrics. He is living in the field, and the field does not have columns. And I think that is exactly the energy Colorado needs right now. I think the state has had enough of people who count things. I think it is time for a man who does things and then, when asked how many, says: does it matter?