“Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster… for when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche
I first saw this quote when I was a boy, age 10 or so, in the opening cinematic of the role-playing game Baldur's Gate. I had never heard of Nietzsche before, or any philosopher for that matter, and I recall being more impressed by how strange his last name was than the profundity of the insight. It wasn't until about 10 years later, when I began to read Nietzsche in earnest and approach the world in a more contemplative fashion, that I realized just how penetrating it was.
History brims with examples of those who sought to root out evil and degeneracy ending up every bit as monstrous as that which they combatted, if not moreso. There is a great and perfidious temptation that lurks in every zealous cause, however pure and noble its intentions at the outset: To let the beatific visions of what could be justify increasingly suspect and immoral means of attaining them. A gnawing sense of impatience so readily takes root, a sense that things could be so much better so much faster if certain strictures were eased, if certain callous actions were permitted, if only in a temporary and limited way. It would be worth it to defeat the evil we see around us, no? It so often seems this way at first, but a rapturous vision can quickly become a tangible hellscape.
This is one of the great tensions at the heart of living a good and virtuous life. We must find an appropriate balance between discerning and resisting deplorable ideas and deeds without becoming fanatical or twisted ourselves. It would be mere cowardice to do or say nothing in the face of degeneracy or evil, having recognized them as such, but the very same zeal which motivates us to combat them can insidiously turn us into ham-fisted ideologues who see the world in increasingly stark and crude terms. All power can be misused. In our indolence we often choose the easier road when confronted with something we find objectionable, eargerly leaping to wholesale rejection and condemnation, losing touch with the nuanced perceptivity of true wisdom.
We may begin to use words like "degenerate", "racist", or "evil" as a convenient way to ignore any valid points those who disagree with us make. We may begin to see those who engage in behaviors we believe deplorable to be utterly undeserving of compassion, of being less than human, even monstrous. That there are a small number of people who are truly monstrous cannot be denied, but the danger is not in calling a monster what it is, but in applying the term too broadly. Add in the amplification born of a tight-knit social circle, which grounds its fellowship in the acceptance of a set of beliefs and values, and we now contend also with the shadow aspect of friendship, which, despite how wondrous and necessary it is for a good life, can blind us to our radicalization. We can become almost immune to any insight or criticism which does not originate in our close group of friends. This can be immensely helpful in a world replete with falsity and wickedness, but it can just as easily lead to a cult-like spiritual corruption if we lack the good sense to take note of divergent perspectives. If we can imagine ourselves only as a kind of spiritual aristocracy that needn't concern itself with the unwashed masses, we are on the road to becoming dangerously divorced from reality and perverted by our own hubris.
To condemn and oppose falsity and evil without allowing them to insidiously corrupt us―this is the great work we strive to perform. We are all fallible. We are all capable of evil. The more convinced we are that we've excised it from our psyches the more oblivious we become when engaging in it. The more imperiously and aggressively we attempt to root it out the more serpentine it becomes, cunningly wending its way into our thoughts and actions; it begins to plausibly present itself in the guise of righteousness. The more hungrily we search for and obsess over the sins of others the more blind we become to our own.
It is foolish and perilous to believe that we're always and only in the right. Yet this is precisely the sort of conviction we need if we're to wage a war against the forces of darkness, no? If we are lax in our convictions as to what is true, beautiful and good, are we not laying ourselves bare for the manipulations and assaults of the malevolent? Will we not lose the surety and tenacity that makes triumph possible?
A balance must be struck. We cannot lose the strength of our convictions on matters of great importance, nor can we overindulge a sense of moral superiority. How can we reliably find that balance? If there is an unerring, universally applicable framework for ethical action I am unaware of it. Even so, there are principles which can help guide us through tumultuous times while guarding us from the intoxication of arrogance:
Be willing to question and analyze coolly any judgments which are bound up with intense negative emotions.
Whenever we feel a surge of anger, resentment, disgust or fear we ought to be cognizant of how those emotions could mislead us, we need to develop the capacity to step back from them momentarily and see whether they are truly justified. The more intensely negative the feeling, the more likely it is that we will perceive only a projection which justifies that emotional state, rather than the whole reality. This is not to say that negative emotions are inherently mistaken or that they have no value, only that they can blind us to our own failings and make circumstances seem far worse than they are. There are times when we ought to feel rage or disgust, but these should be reserved for truly extreme circumstances, where most are wont to indulge them for utterly trivial reasons. This is toxic to self-awareness and moral clarity. Aristotle said of anger:
"Anybody can become angry―that is easy, but to be angry with the right person and to the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way―that is not within everybody's power and is not easy."
It is much the same with the other negative emotions.
Cultivate the capacity to authentically immerse yourself in the social world.
It becomes far easier to demonize other people when we never interact with them in any meaningful, tangible way. The internet and social media have made it plain that it's many times easier to be a horrific cunt behind a screen than it is in person; this pseudo-social world is often a far nastier place than the real one. We're also far more prone to getting lost in our own delusions if we do not have any authentic discussions and interactions with other people. We cannot fully believe in or understand that which we never experience for ourselves, so it is paramount to anyone who wishes to possess a well-rounded comprehension of morality to actually go out and interact with others.
This is the only way to understand who the people we share the world with really are. We can glean some things from afar, but not as much as we sometimes believe. We also learn a tremendous amount about ourselves in the process―and not all of that information will be flattering. Socializing can dispel prejudice, reveal our faults and free constrained thinking in a way no amount of solitary intellection can. We are often most lucid and creative when we are expressing ourselves authentically in the company of others, and feel that they appreciate and understand us.
We needn't always agree to be enriched by these exchanges. In fact, it will tend to be more fruitful if we don't agree on everything. Often, when we are willing to risk disagreement and endure that tension, the intermingling of our differing thoughts and sentiments gives rise to a wondrous alchemical reaction that produces a new and more brilliant comprehension than either of us could have arrived at absent the other. The more broadly and authentically we socialize, the less likely we are to lazily dehumanize others, the more perspicacious and nuanced our perceptions of others become.
Cultivate the capacity to step away from the social world and look within.
Important as socializing is, it's every bit as important to leave it off at times and be alone. We must never lose the capacity to think things through on our own, to listen to our intuition even when it seems everyone believes we're mistaken. Often the most important and profound insights we have will not be shared by others. Just as never socializing can narrow and constrain our mind, so too can never allowing ourselves to enter into solitude and consider things in our own fashion. I explain this more thoroughly in The Wisdom of Hermits.
Focus more on doing good, loving the truth and creating beauty; less on fighting evil, hating falsehood or destroying ugliness.
Combatting that which we dislike has a stimulating, intoxicating effect. It feels productive, righteous and empowering. Sometimes it can be. Yet when it becomes the primary or only way that we conceive of bettering the world we live in, it becomes terribly dangerous. This is when we are gazing into the abyss most intensely. We must always remember that it gazes back. I doubt that anyone has ever become a twisted and monstrous person by treating others lovingly, creating beautiful things, and doing their best to articulate the truth in a level-headed way. Yet almost everyone who has gone horribly astray was caught up trying to dominate, humiliate or eradicate that which they hated. It's not that combat and strife are never necessary or warranted, they certainly can be. We must use them judiciously, far more selectively than most are inclined to. A slightly different explanation of this principle can be found in The Age-Old Error.
Focus more on the mundane and seemingly trivial, on the daily journey; less on what is dramatic and provocative.
We are generally obsessed with making dramatic gestures nowadays. We lack appreciation for the more mundane, workaday habits that actually determine the greater part of our impact on the world. The longing to be a star in a gripping narrative makes it far easier to regard those we disagree with as demonic, irredeemable, inhuman. This is the great appeal of all brands of extremism; they make us feel like holy warriors in a noble crusade against evil. This is just as true for secular causes as religious ones, as the past year ought to have made obvious.
Understand that extremism betrays an exhausted, weak mind which can no longer contend with the living present; it is a retreat into simplified anwers, born of sloth, profound discontent or the fear of uncertainty. Fanaticism panders primarily to the confused and miserable, imbuing them with a frenetic energy and rigid certitude which temporarily alleviates their torment. We would do far more good in the long run, and avoid many wrong turns, focusing on our daily actions and deeds and how they affect those we encounter. We're far more likely to make good decisions in this personal context, and far less likely to be swept away by delusions of grandeur or the violent caprice of a mob. I wrote more on this in Ethical Induction.
Devote less energy to directly confronting your enemies; focus more on learning from them and using those insights to upstage them.
What does it mean to truly defeat our enemies? I think the typical notion of victory, that we crush or destroy or subjugate them, isn't quite right. It's a kind of victory, but an incomplete one. The greatest victory consists in learning everything our enemies have to teach us, whether about ourselves or the wider world, and utilizing those insights to outclass them in every way in which they are compelling. That is, rather than pitching ourselves headlong into battle and trying to destroy them, we study them carefully and find a way to grasp and appreciate every desirable quality they possess in a greater measure than we do.
Are they better at persuading others to their way of understanding things, are they physically more robust, are they more adept strategists than we are? Are they more eloquent and impassioned in their speech? Do they simply work harder than we do, or desire their ends more fiercely? Is their purpose more clearly defined and singular than ours? What is it that makes them a legitimate and compelling opponent? Figure this out. Don't be dismissive of their laudable qualities, they must have some. Always casting our foes in a negative light is a fine way to ensure our own defeat. We need to understand what they offer that we don't. Why would anyone choose to side with them over us?
Even if we manage to crush them without doing this, we've forfeited the opportunity to use their example as a way to improve ourselves and all that we have to offer. Whatever we were lacking that our enemy possessed, which made them compelling in a way we were not, still remains, may even be worsening. Perhaps we cannot assimilate every praiseworthy quality they possessed, but we can at least, if we approach them in the proper spirit, improve in those areas in which we were relatively deficient. See them as firewood thrown into the great flame of your spirit. As they are consumed they contribute to our expansion and growth, the more thoroughly we come to understand them the more substantial that contribution becomes, until there is nothing left to extract and only ash remains.
It's also unwise, from a purely strategic point of view, to continually engage our enemies in conflict. Consider the words of Napoleon:
"You must not fight too often with one enemy, or you will teach him all your art of war."
Further, in direct confrontation we reveal ourselves as an enemy, losing the element of surprise. As Sun Tzu, perhaps history's most profound strategic thinker, once wrote:
"Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt."
We reveal much by continually engaging our enemies and showing our hand. Even if we must directly confront them, it is best to do it as sparingly as possible, when they are least prepared for it. Does it strike you as naive to keep direct conflict to a minimum when trying to prevail over evil? There are many paths to victory, and there are more efficient and wholesome ways to triumph than we will ever know if we can only imagine smashing our opposition over the head with a cudgel, whether actual or verbal. But don't take my word for it, consider once more the words of Sun Tzu:
"The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting."
There are two ways I can see to interpret this: The typical way, which is to see it as a statement of the incredible power of subterfuge and indirect sabotage in warfare, or as a suggestion that there are non-violent means of triumph which are superior to the conventional approach. This non-violent approach could consist in us learning from and upstaging our enemies so thoroughly that it becomes plain that no conflict is necessary, as we've already won by outstripping them so severely, and both parties know it. Or it could take yet another, and perhaps even more enlightened form which Abraham Lincoln spoke of:
"Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?"
What surer triumph could there be than to turn an enemy into a true and stalwart ally? We can then not only learn from them, but profit from having their skill, strength and wisdom added to our own.
Tell the truth while retaining composure, treat others charitably while being firm in your resolve.
Simply telling the truth, or sharing what we honestly believe, can go a long way in making the world a better place to live. So often we share a great many beliefs with others yet we all remain unaware of it, as it has become taboo or uncomfortable to speak those beliefs aloud. It can be quite difficult to speak out when it seems we're all alone in believing something, and even the people we know and love look at us askance when we say it. It's quite unlikely, however, that we're truly alone in our beliefs. Having the courage to speak will embolden others who think similarly to do the same. The illusion that we're an island can be dispelled by a few honest acts. Above all, if you sincerely think something is wrong or misguided, do not participate in the lie. Pretending to believe something we don't is profoundly toxic and cowardly.
We must learn the art of being tactfully honest, of staying firm in our resolve without being needlessly combative. If we retain our composure when disagreeing we find ourselves in a much greater position of strength relative to those who are emotionally reactive and less thoughtful. If we genuinely listen to others and try to understand their position, rather than castigating them as imbeciles who are beneath us, they will be able to perceive this, even if they must get through an emotional fit beforehand. We are also, in taking this more grounded and compassionate approach, much less likely to be led astray by the powerful feelings roused in a heated exchange. (See also Being Honest and Rocking the Boat.)
There are no guarantees in life, but we can do much to avoid the mistakes others have made by reflecting upon their example. Many have gazed far too long into the abyss of which Nietzsche spoke, and despite their noble intentions they paid a terrible price. Here we have a set of principles which, if seriously considered and applied in action, will help us navigate between the Scylla of cowardice on the one hand and the Charybdis of blind arrogance on the other. In parting, let me bestow you with one more incisive gem from that brilliant psychologist who I first discovered all those years ago:
"But thus I counsel you, my friends: Mistrust all in whom the impulse to punish is powerful. They are people of a low sort and stock; the hangman and the bloodhound look out of their faces. Mistrust all who talk much of their justice! Verily, their souls lack more than honey. And when they call themselves the good and the just, do not forget that they would be pharisees, if only they had―power."