THE VARIOUS FACES OF EVIL
By Gil Rogers
We are
used to hearing about the good-evil dichotomy, although once in a while some
pragmatist will admit to choosing the lesser of two evils.
Philosophers often defend their metaphysical preferences by referring to the
greater good. There is no question that one of the most important
developmental features of a growing child is that of distinguishing between
good and evil, and yet this is apparently difficult sometimes for adults.
Life
itself seems to get in the way. With my heart in my mouth, I recently
witnessed a parking- lot episode. A little curly-haired girl ran across the
driving lane to her mother, preoccupied with loading a black SUV. I
was half in and half out of my own car and twenty feet away, obviously
useless for urgent action. An advancing vehicle (a white one, going
too fast) slammed on the brakes, which yanked the busy mother’s head around
toward the near catastrophe. She screamed her daughter’s name, and the
frightened cherub leaped into her mom’s arms. Clutching her to her breast,
the terrified mother shouted, “Don’t you ever do that to me again!” Was
there evil here? Well, most likely not, unless we include misplaced
priorities, lax judgment, questionable child rearing, or recklessness.
Morality as a discipline can be challenging.
When
would such behaviors be unmistakable examples of evil? When they’re
deliberate. When they’re routine. When they’re malicious. I believe,
however, that evil sometimes masquerades as maladjustment or personality
disorder, maybe simply as attitude deficiency. Or just outright neediness. I
once had a colleague so blinded by his thirst for recognition that he
flagged me down on my way home one day with a contrived scenario based on
something a few days before in which I—yes, I—had been favored with
some chuckles by a group of comrades-in-arms. He told me this ridiculous
story and made himself the deliverer of the humorous line. Until I
drove off with a mystified look on my face, he’d had no clue whatever that
he was giving me back my own comedy material. Is this evil? Heck no, but
awfully pitiful. His dysfunction and craving for psychic massage were great
enough, nevertheless, to propel him later into student exploitation and
other serious mischief. Much evil emanates from mere human weakness and
misshapen character.
Individuals in authority, that is, people in power, often abuse their
positions in ostensibly benign ways. I know very little about captains of
industry, but during almost two and a half decades of university work, I saw
many public administrators come and go. From a vantage point—“in the
trenches”—examples of poor leadership are easily visible. A vice president
who says yes to everyone when he is presented with completely contradictory
proposals might be excused for a while. On the basis that he is perhaps
overwhelmed with a flood of competing ideas, the faculty charitably allows
him some elbow room to think it all through and eventually take a position.
But as the weeks and months roll by, the paralysis of his office results in
widespread bickering, territorial skirmishes, bad feeling, and a whole gamut
of childish misbehavior.
How
unhealthy is this for a university campus? Unlike a head cold, which runs
its course and leaves the sufferer feeling new again, such organizational
malfeasance becomes deeply systemic. And the president who smugly claims
deniability because he is insulated by many strata in the chain of
command—this person fails to establish a tone for conduct, which espouses
cooperation and positive contribution. People become discouraged,
disenchanted, and demoralized. Sometimes they resort to damaging antisocial
activity. Some exit entirely, leaving the hapless balance to hide or engage
in damaging conflict. Administrative cowardice and neglect produce
unwholesome activity of unbelievable magnitude. Is it evil? It is certainly
not good leadership.
Who
hasn’t seen a frustrated and impatient mother dragging her crying child by
one arm down a supermarket aisle, pulling his shoulder practically out of
its socket? What feeling floods your being at a time like that? You want to
rescue the youngster or have words with the parent. When such things occur
in a residential neighborhood these days, quite frequently a report is
phoned in to Children and Youth by an anonymous observer, with the result
that an investigator appears on someone’s doorstep. Perhaps this is
meddling, perhaps not. It is nonetheless intervention and is usually based
on a sense of outrage over something seen as abuse. In any case, it is
comforting to be reminded that a human instinct to preserve and protect is
viable and active. It would not be difficult to argue that without such
salutary tendencies, evil of some kind would flourish even more than it
does.
Nobody
likes bullies. I loved the Star Wars films. Besides the dazzling
graphics and space travel, it was easy to tell the bad guys from the good
ones. And a thrill to see good triumph over obvious evil. It would be
wonderful if in life as we know it we could always be sure where to rush in
and rescue the underdogs and the browbeaten. Occasionally we do know, albeit
too late to shut off a holocaust or other less dramatic forms of ethnic
cleansing. The grotesque irony of “laundering” with filthy tactics cannot be
blamed for our constant vacillation and disagreement about whether to
conduct warfare or to persuade through diplomacy. In this millennium we
can’t always distinguish between enemy and ally—and the ground continually
shifts like the Okefenokee Swamp. Isn’t it one of life’s bizarre
perversities that to protect global security we develop policies of
paranoia? Safety is almost constantly preserved at some other regime’s
expense. Greater good is consequently sought by opting for the lesser of
several evils. The world has become an unfriendly place, a hostile
environment in which it is harder than ever to raise happy children who can
grow to adulthood and to do so with healthy and altruistic values.
Much of
what transpires reflects neither goodness nor probity, let alone thoughtful
consideration of these lofty and sometimes elusive notions. Human behavior
at many levels, whether individual or societal, often seems to be reduced to
what the actors can gain with the least cost to themselves. Frequently such
self-serving agendas can be managed without becoming unduly conspicuous, and
thus, a spanking is avoided.
“Life
comes at you fast,” we are reminded in the insurance commercials, the
consequence being that we often react more or less spontaneously without
regard to the needs of the other or to long-term consequences. Neglectful
parents, unskilled leaders, neurotic colleagues, and egomaniacal despots all
exhibit something unwholesome: a regular and consistent predisposition to
achieve a result without the redeeming accompaniment of promoting good.
The
practicing philosopher is barely listened to these days, such is the
immediacy of danger and the fragility of life. The politics of selfishness
prevail while ethics and social policy scarcely get a chance. Adults, who
have successfully negotiated the childhood developmental challenges of
accountability and morality, even in their most spontaneous moments,
generally opt for goodness. Unhappily, there appear to be too few of them
around these days.
