I had an interesting experience in class last week; one I hope won’t get me in too much trouble.

As the semester is winding down, one of my classes was giving presentations on their research projects. Two students happened to present on Nazis. Both did an excellent job; their work was well researched and thoughtfully delivered. After the second presentation, the discussion shifted to President Trump and comparisons to Hitler. I let the conversation run for a bit. I don’t push my own politics in class, and I believe college should be a place where students reach their own conclusions. But eventually I felt it was time to step in.

I asked a simple question: “How many people did Hitler kill?” Students threw out several answers, all in the millions. Then I asked, “How many people has Trump killed?” The room went quiet. They could tell the mood suddenly shifted. I continued, “How many American citizens have been rounded up and put in camps?” Crickets. “How many peaceful protesters in front of the White House have been arrested?” More silence. After a tense pause, I said, “We need to stop comparing Trump to Hitler.”

I will repeat here what I told my students: I am not defending Trump. That has never been my role. Yet, even if you dislike him, comparing him to Hitler does not help anyone’s cause.

First, if you despise Trump, comparing him to Hitler only undermines your argument. It forces reasonable people who are on the fence to feel they must defend him, and once they defend him, they often end up supporting him.

I’m convinced part of Trump’s appeal comes from the sheer volume of unfair or exaggerated attacks he receives. In fact, I started writing this column during his first term because I felt compelled to defend history itself from constant claims that “we’ve never seen this before.” We have seen everything before.

Second, comparing Trump or any modern political figure to Hitler normalizes Hitler. Disturbingly, Hitler has seen a small resurgence of popularity recently. This doesn’t surprise me. If every political opponent is “basically Hitler,” then Hitler stops seeming uniquely evil.

Many young people today know little about Hitler and even less about what fascism is. To them, a fascist is simply anyone who disagrees with them politically.

I told my students that they are essential voices. It will fall to them to educate their generation and the next generations about the realities of fascism and communism, not the watered-down definitions being tossed around online. They must teach that Hitler was truly evil—not because he deported people here illegally—but because he orchestrated the murder of six million Jews. You may hate both, but they are not the same.

Finally, when we label political opponents as “Hitler” or “fascists,” we risk justifying violence. No one disputes that fascists are evil; the United States sacrificed more than 400,000 lives fighting fascism in World War II. In that light, calling contemporary leaders fascists gives a dangerous green light to those who believe violence is the answer—people like the gunman who felt justified in shooting Charlie Kirk. We can do better, and it starts with acknowledging the profound difference between a genocidal dictator like Hitler and a democratically elected president such as Donald Trump.

James Finck is a professor of American history at the University of Science and Arts of Oklahoma.