Call Things What They Are

Can we be brave and clear-minded enough to call good, good and evil, evil, and wise enough to know the difference?

I have a hard time with hyperbole. I think that’s in part because I’ve lived long enough to hear a lot of it. Also because I’m a lawyer, and learned long ago that judges don’t react well to it. And because I tend to look for truth in the middle places, and shun extremes and absolutes.

One hyperbolic word I have come to disdain is “outrageous.” When someone says that something is outrageous, they are appealing to emotion, often at the expense of reason. The word invariably sounds shrill to me. To quote the Bard, it is “full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” Its use triggers in me the opposite reaction from the one the speaker was hoping to evoke. Tell me that someone’s conduct is outrageous, and you risk nudging me into their camp. Say it in court, and I will conclude you were poorly trained.

And yet, despite my predilection against hyperbolic language, I often find myself using the word “evil” to describe certain people and their actions. I do so even though I believe that people who do bad things have a reservoir of good within them. That good and bad are two poles on a spectrum, and we each occupy a space between. That the bad deeds we all at times engage in are products of our flawed natures. That, in theological terms, we all have sinned and require the gift of grace.

But even given the non-absolute character of human nature, evil is real. It exists whenever we purposefully cause others to suffer, or when we callously or with conscious indifference permit suffering that we have the power to stop or prevent. History is replete with examples, some quite obvious, others more subtle. Yet all that is required to recognize evil is to open our eyes, observe, and honestly assess what we see.

Recognizing evil as evil is a choice, and one too often not made. Closing our eyes and choosing not to see is its own insidious form of evil. Rationalizing evil as an appropriate choice because it will bring about an imagined greater good, and thus allowing evil to take hold, is no less evil by virtue of the rationalization.

Choosing to see, then seeing, and then assessing what we see, is a straightforward exercise, but to do it well requires us to keep an open mind, carefully weigh the evidence before us, and resist the influence of those who deliberately distort the facts and appeal to our basest instincts. It means doing what judges instruct jurors to do, which most jurors do well: base decisions on facts in evidence, putting aside bias and prejudice. Indeed, the fundamental premise of the jury system is that most (or, at least, enough) fair-minded people are capable of making sound judgments when confronted with evidence and given the tools to evaluate it. Even outside the courtroom, it’s reasonable to believe that premise holds.

It needn’t be hard to identify evil. Amidst the turmoil of the 1960s, Bob Dylan told us that we don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows. We shouldn’t need a weatherman today. Events unfold before our eyes. We simply need to open our eyes, observe, and assess. But we must do so honestly, rationally, and with good-faith discernment. And most of all, one hopes, with compassion for those upon whom evil preys.

And when we are done, we are not done. One more step is needed: to stand up with courage against evil, and for what is good and just and true and kind.

Is that too much to ask?