The horrific attack on two staffers in Rep. Gerry Connolly’s (D-Va.) district office was the latest brutal reminder for current or potential public servants that they could become the next victim of political violence.

Though thankfully rare, particularly in recent decades, instances of violence against elected officials pepper our political history. Presidents, governors and local and state officials have all, at one time or another, been the targets of violent attacks — even assassination. And violence between members of Congress — including duels and one famous occurrence where a sitting senator was beaten to within an inch of his life by a cane-wielding representative — was once far more common than many realize.

Increasingly, however, it’s individuals who surround the principals, namely anonymous congressional aides, who suffer the vicious and sometimes deadly consequences of political violence meant for more high-profile elected officials, as was the case for thousands of staffers during the Jan. 6 storming of the Capitol. Gabe Zimmerman, a staffer to former Rep. Gabby Giffords (D-Ariz.), was killed in the 2011 shooting at a Tucson shopping center; Zack Barth, an aide to Roger Williams (R-Texas), was one of five people shot in 2017 at a practice for an upcoming congressional baseball game, including then-House Republican Whip Steve Scalise (R-La.).

Paul Pelosi, the husband of former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.), spent days in the hospital after an intruder fractured his skull with a hammer in late 2022 once he realized the Speaker wasn’t home. And last Monday, two congressional staffers working in a district office — one a recently hired intern — were sent to the hospital after being beaten with a metal baseball bat by a man who came to the office looking for their boss, Rep. Connolly.

It’s one thing, particularly in an era of hyper-partisanship, for staff and family members to be on the receiving end of bitter criticism and rude, emotional outbursts from those who disagree with any given lawmaker. They know full well it is part of the job — an unfortunate but accepted tradeoff in today’s political climate.

But the prospect of becoming a victim of violence is an unacceptable escalation. It quickly tilts the balance away from something to weigh when considering the job to an automatic disqualifier.

The job of a congressional staffer is already hard and thankless enough. Hours are bad, pay is worse and half of the country automatically thinks the worst of you. Particularly for young aides at in-person events and who answer office phones and batch constituent mail, the relentless negativity pouring into a congressional office quickly sucks out the optimism, energy and zeal with which they come to the job. It’s no wonder turnover within congressional offices is alarmingly high and getting worse.

In many respects, staffers working within district offices face even greater threats of violence than their D.C. counterparts; every congressional building on Capitol Hill has magnetometers scanning all visitors and a cadre of Capitol Police officers monitoring all building activity. The vast majority of district offices offer their employees no such protections.

What’s more, the very purpose of a district office is to be accessible to constituents on the member’s behalf. Through their constituent casework, like checking on a missing Social Security payment or assisting a veteran in finding their nearest VA hospital, aides in district offices aim to be a positive focal point of the community and its citizens. This is why most district offices not only have open-door policies, they beg constituents to come in, meet the staff and familiarize themselves with the services the full-time staff is ready and willing to provide.

But now, if they didn’t before, every district staffer must wonder if the person walking into the office has a legitimate need for congressional assistance or aims to do them harm. And every member will have a nagging worry that their hired staff will become an acceptable target of attackers whose original target was the lawmaker. Upon hearing his staffers were attacked, Rep. Connolly admitted feeling an immediate sense of “guilt” — “It should have been me, not them,” he said.

The concerning new reality of potential political violence for staff will lead to a variety of dispiriting, though necessary, changes for district offices and staff. We are likely to see, for example, open doors default to locked; more hired guards serving as office greeters; and appointments to enter the offices required. Each of these makes access to elected officials and their services more difficult.

But more depressing, the threat of violence is yet another reason our best and brightest are running away from public service at a time when we need all the help we can get.

Casey Burgat is an assistant professor and the director of the Legislative Affairs master’s program at the George Washington University Graduate School of Political Management.