Evil

Evil: Inside Human Violence and Cruelty
(Continued)

How Evil Starts
In tune with the irrational belief that evil somehow propagates itself from Satan or Hell into our world, many think (or fear) that people are somehow "infected" either through some sort of genetic link with evil ancestors or by being "tempted" by a supernatural power.

In reality evil deeds (at least on the grand scale) are much more difficult to avoid than we think. "Great evil can come from small, unremarkable, seemingly innocent beginnings. Contrary to the myth of pure evil, one does not have to be at all evil to cross the line," writes Baumeister. How come?

Because the line between good and evil is seldom clearly drawn. It's mostly ambiguous and fuzzy, particularly if those who wish to exercise power deliberately conceal or camouflage the divide. One tactic used frequently by those in charge of Nazi death squads was to keep their enlisted executioners in ignorance for as long as possible of what they were about to do.

And it's no good concluding that one would not do such things oneself, no matter what. The truth is that the choice is seldom, if ever, framed in the same stark moral terms we imagine beforehand. Not only are we thrust unexpectedly, without time to reflect, into situations of choice, but it proves difficult to "…recognise the issue as a great moral test of character at that crucial moment".

As if this were not enough there proves to be an element, either inborn or due to upbringing or both, which sets violent criminals apart from the majority. The research is clear: violent people who do evil acts lack the self-control of others in this and many other areas of their lives.

An ironic fact of the legal systems of the West is that by allowing temporary loss of self-control as a valid reason to escape punishment, we may be reinforcing the tendency to let go and be violently wicked. "Thus, modern America may be violent not because it approves of violence (which it clearly doesn't) but because it supports the belief that people will inevitably lose control on many occasions."

Milgram's experiments are often cited as proof that humans are inherently cruel. But this, as Baumeister points out, is to ignore the many signs of a desperate inner struggle in his subject-perpetrators who thought they were giving violent electric shocks. What may be at issue in dealing with the worst sorts of human evil is an imperative social need to inculcate strong emotional barriers against evil deeds.

At the same time Baumeister points out that a "…very concrete, narrow, rigid way of thinking, with the focus on the here and now, on the details of what one is doing…" reduces self-control and fosters the crossing of moral boundaries.

As he says, "To perceive that one is crossing a moral boundary into something that may be wrong, it is necessary to step back from what one is doing and think about one's actions in the context of broad moral principles." The implications of this for Western society are great. First, it seems, we have a responsibility to socialise our children with a strong "moral sense" so that they have a powerful early-warning system which tells them "You are doing something wrong!" But, according to Baumeister, a person also needs transcendence - the capacity to think through the broader implications of current events.

How Evil Grows
The final nail in the coffin of the myth of evil is ample evidence that nobody is born inherently evil. There are genetic conditions which cause young children to be extremely hyper-active to the point of violence. But the evidence is overwhelming that what we call "evil" grows from minor first acts. Terrifyingly evil deeds to not appear full-blown. "Rather they [are] the result of a period of escalation, often one that occurred very gradually."

The process of desensitisation by which this happens is "…essentially a matter of getting accustomed to something and ceasing to react to it". Death squads, charged with the horrible task of killing many, react badly at first. But it's not long before they are so hardened that their work can be accompanied by laughter and joking.

It will surprise few that the silence of groups, say of onlookers, can contribute strongly to the growth of evil. Was it Theodore Roosevelt who said something like "For evil to prosper requires only that good men do nothing"? Perhaps all reigns of terror - the French Terror, Stalin's purges and all the rest - were able to gain momentum because individuals felt unable to stand up to the majority.

In this phenomenon Baumeister introduces the principle of diffusion of responsibility to explain why otherwise strong-minded individuals fail to stand up to the group test: "…the responsibility for taking action is divided up among members of a group. The larger the group, the less responsible any individual person feels".

Along a similar principle of the division of labour, when governments "…embark on a campaign of killing people, a careful division of labour can help conceal any individual's responsibility for the killings". This process is helped by the fact that in most groups those at lower levels not only trust, but have to trust, those at higher levels. The tragedy is that in a group setting it can prove extremely difficult to voice one's doubts about evil policies and actions.

Perhaps the tension between individual freedom of thought and responsibility to the group which seems to bedevil Western cultures is essential to its health. If Baumeister is right, and his evidence is extremely good, then evil is most easily resisted by those who are reasonably independent of group influence. And yet effective social actions can seldom be effectively carried out unless individuals conform, at least to that extent.

Guilt
A similar tension is brought out by Baumeister in relation to guilt as a "prosocial" mechanism and guilt which is the "…opposite of self-esteem".

It seems that in Western society we have got ourselves into a stew by failing to distinguish between the two. In making this comment, I'm not referring to the Christian method of social control by which an ultimate sanction - guilt at disobeying God and the consequent eternal torments - is imposed. That kind of guilt, especially when inculcated at an early age, can destroy lives with unerring power.

Prosocial guilt has to do with a sense of empathy, writes Baumeister. "People feel upset when they have empathy with someone who is suffering, and this empathic distress forms a basis for feeling guilty". The other root of guilt is the fear of losing a relationship. "When people hurt those who care about them, they increase the risk that the victim will withdraw from the relationship … Guilt is fundamentally prosocial: It helps to strengthen bonds between people". (Psychopaths are so dangerous precisely because they appear to feel no such guilt.)

The other kind of guilt is more complex, related as it is to self-image. Psychologists know that low self-esteem is a cause of great and lasting emotional pain to many. In response, we in the West have been taught in latter generations that high self-esteem is beneficial. In business, for example, managers are urged to both strengthen their own sense of worth and that of their subordinates, on the grounds that performance is improved by doing so.

We may, however, have adopted an over-simple approach. Baumeister points out that the costs of high self-esteem (such as violence) "…are borne by those around us. In other words, high self-esteem benefits the individual at the expense of the group … high self-esteem is an important cause of evil. People who think highly of themselves will exploit others and will attack someone who does not show them the respect they think they deserve".

Research is clear: foremost among the characteristics of dangerous leaders is "…the lack of empathic bond with their followers. Leaders who lack such an emotional bond can be cold and cynical about using their followers to further their ends, and any suffering that ensues is merely a means to an end". Egotism joins idealism as a root cause of evil.

Our defences against feeling guilty are many and subtle. We use language to conceal and confuse issues of evil. When blunt words like "kill" and "murder" might deter violence, we change to words like "waste", "eliminate" and "remove". Victims are not victims but "units to be processed".

We may plead "no option" when we do evil because to do so removes culpability. It's even possible, says Baumeister, to claim that harming others is for their own good. He tells of a Rwandan woman who said that she had done a group of orphans a favour by killing them because they would not have been able to survive on their own.

If one were to suppose that the use of defence mechanisms such as Baumeister outlines is the cynical use of empty excuses, one would be wrong. Human self-deception is more powerful than that. Hitler is reported to have said "In defending myself against the Jews, I am acting for the Lord". This, when compared with his party's political devices like the fabricated Protocols of the Elders of Zion, was probably wholly hypocritical.

"Yet," says Baumeister, "such clear-cut cases are rare". Most perpetrators of evil "…emphasise the external causes and mitigating factors and believe sincerely that there actions are not as bad as others, particularly victims, assert". Not only do they excuse themselves after the event, but they begin preparing their reasons in advance of acting.

Blaming it on the Devil
Traditionally Christians propose that confession, either private or to a confessor (and sometimes to a congregation), is necessary to gain forgiveness for sin. Millions of Christians still make formal confessions before a priest. Millions more still confess their sins privately. In the light of this and other studies of guilt, can the idea of confession be sustained. Is it not more than likely that confession is a means of removing guilt?

Such matters are, however, relatively minor issues of Church order. Far more problematic if one accepts Baumeister's thesis is the traditional Christian concept of the infection of humanity by evil forces, the idea that we are somehow not only born into evil but part of an inevitably evil world in which we are beset all around by powerful evil forces.

At one level, the problem is quite easily disposed of. The story of Adam and Eve, once perceived as an historical or semi-historical account of "what really happened", has now been redefined as a myth or ancient tale developed to explain the origins and nature of evil and agreed by the vast majority of Christian theologians.

For some decades now, however, Christians have been uneasily shifting in their pews as they wonder "where" evil comes from and why it should clearly still operate even 2 000 years after Jesus was supposed to have conquered the forces of evil. Although I have nothing but circumstantial evidence, it's most probable that the average Christian still blames it on Satan.

This is possible only if one holds a supernatural view of the universe. That is, a perception of reality as consisting of two parallel "universes" (not the same as the parallel universes proposed by mathematicians). The second universe is where God, angels, the saints, Mary and Jesus live. It's also populated by evil "spirits" who are some sense or other (not too clearly defined for fear of heresy) at war with God. This universe somehow impacts ours, and ours impacts it - if we get our "spiritual life" right.

Of course, many if not the majority of people today probably still perceive reality like this. The problem arises (and is made more acute by Baumeister) when one is unable to view the universe in this way. If the Western mentality is one which will last and grow to pervade most of humanity, then conflict between supernatural and natural world views can only become more acute.

The question I'm left with could be uncomfortable for some. What would happen if every Christian on earth stopped praying to God for deliverance from evil and began combating the factors which Baumeister has produced, very convincingly, as the source of evil?

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