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Evil and Tragedy Jonathon VandenHombergh Words of condolence are common and quite necessary during times of unmitigated

tragedy. This is especially the case when we wish, reasonably, to assuage the sadness of a victim or the victims family. It does one no psychological good to offer these victim s pet theories about the cause of the violence (in most cases, the motivations of the perpetrator), and it is, in fact, our natural impulse to ascribe to the origin of the tragedy a sense of mystery and senselessness. I must thus acknowledge, then, that this essay against the use of senseless evil (and other phrases like it) is not for the victims or their families; nor is it for those tasked with consoling them directly. The use of such a concept may indeed be psychologically healthy during the aftermath of a tragedy, as no one wishes, in moments of extreme psychological pain, to understand and thus potentially sympathize with the perpetrator of that pain. This is a natural part of grief facing the reasons can come later. No, instead, this essay is offered against the policymakers, media, and the outspoken yet personally unaffected among us. I will make my point very clear: throwing around phrases such as the world is sometimes senselessly evil , some things have no rhyme or reason, or such and such is just evil is logically wrong, practically unhelpful, and potentially dangerous. We need to be rational in situations of tragedy not out of a misplaced and pretentious desire for truth but to help those who need it most. Being rational entails understanding that things have reasons, reasons can be understood, and reasons can be stopped. Another way of succinctly describing this papers thesis: evil is somewhat preternatural, but never supernatural. That is, the explanations may presently be unknown but they are never non-intelligible or beyond our eventual understanding. There are three points to address here, and I will start with the first: supernatural evil (that is, senseless or inexplicable evil) is logically wrong. Notwithstanding ancient metaphysical debates over the existence of evil, it is clear that, as a property posited to inhere in certain individuals, the concept is causally bankrupt and unjustified. By this, I mean that we have no good reason to assume that something like supernatural evil exists as a cause of behavior. We can, though it is certainly difficult and not presently within our full grasp, come to understand behavior through a series of genetic, neurological, behavioral, and social factors. All of the observable factors can, as far as we know, fully account for human personality. Take the famous example of Charles Joseph Whitman, who, in 1966, shot and killed seventeen people at the University of Texas. Autopsy reports later revealed a small, pecan -sized tumor, which some speculate may have affected Whitmans amygdalae brain regions known to partially control emotional responses. Or take the case of the unnamed schoolteacher, reported by neurologists Russell Swerdlow and Jeffrey Burns, whose sudden desire to rape women and children was eliminated as soon as a tumor near his frontal lobe was discovered and removed. The frontal lobe has long been correlated with the control of executive planning and decision-making. More benign instances exist, of course: the textbook case of Phineas Gage, who suffered severe damage to his frontal lobes in an explosion, demonstrated Gages radical transformation from thoughtful and kind to reckless, impulsive, and rude. But we need not stop at neurology surely, not every case of supernatural evil is actually the result of something like a brain tumor. Take the case of Islamist terrorism. A political distaste for American interventionism, a dissatisfaction with the current religious state of affairs, a sense of impotency due to a lack of democratic processes or economic equality, perhaps exacerbated by strict Islamic law or the psychology of religious thought these are just a

few of the possible factors contributing to the behavior of Islamist extremists. All of them are theoretically quantifiable they can be observed, measured, and addressed in a reasonable way. This in no way entails that, say, American interventionism is inappropriate, or that religious thinking is incorrect. We need to here take a nuanced approach to causation. Various factors may contribute to behavior without implying anything about their truth value. We do not need to accept isolationism in order to recognize the possible effects of American interventionism; we do not need to be atheists in order to recognize the possible effects of religious thinking. Nonetheless, the causes are present. They are not obvious (again, they are preternatural), but they are intelligible. Supernatural evil doesnt seem to fit into the picture anywhere. This leads to the most specific point concerning the logical incorrectness of supernatural evil: it is causally bankrupt. Another way of putting this is to say that supernatural evil is causally irrelevant when it comes to understanding the sources of behavior. We can theoretically (if not actually; at least, not yet) understand the entire causal mechanism of human behavior without needing to posit the concept of supernatural evil. Let us call supernatural evil e. Given a series of genetic, neurological, and environmental factors (x, y, and z), we can apparently posit a conditional along the lines of If we have x, y, and z, then we will have behavior b. This is a standard means of prediction in scientific practice if we know certain underlying facts (e.g., x, y, and z), as well as a law-like regularity (if a then b), then we can predict certain events. Note that, in the case of so-called supernaturally evil events, adding e to our list of facts adds no further explanation that isnt already accounted for by the other factors. We can call this argument the empirical counter, as it shows us that the observable phenomena already account for the behavior in question. Further, the complexity of these causal factors does not imply that the situation is inherently mysterious or unintelligible. It only implies that teasing out the right factors is difficult. Later, we will see why this difficulty should not inhibit us. Perhaps some might say that there are cases where supernatural evil is the cause of the tragic event in question. But if this evil is unintelligible, then it cannot exist in the causal history of events (otherwise, it would be intelligible, as such behaviors would seemingly be predictable). Thus, if the evil was truly supernatural, as we have defined it (i.e., as truly unintelligible), it must arise ex nihilo, spontaneously, with no prior connection to any series of events. Call this the rationalist counter, as it notes the entailment of either a contradiction or a reductio ad absurdum; either evil must be intelligible or it must be spontaneous. Concerning the latter option, we need only consider that since we could theoretically posit a range of factors which already accounts for the horrific human behavior in question, we have no need to accept this bizarre sort of causal account. We never seem to experience spontaneous causes anywhere else in nature and, indeed, we have no reason to accept their existence, given that various observable factors can already account for the behavior in question. Considering these logical and empirical difficulties, we might then ask: is there any reason to hold on to the concept of supernatural evil? In fact, I do not believe that such a reason exists, except insofar as it is used in direct relation to the victims or their families during the typical cycle of grief. Otherwise, the notion is practically unhelpful. After offering justifications for this idea, I wish to show that our continued application of such a concept is, perhaps, doing more harm than good. As I have mentioned, I believe there is a relevant case when the use of the concept of supernatural evil may serve a practical role. Such an instance regards the therapeutic need for condolences, as offered to the victims or families of victims in a tragedy. It would likely only cause such parties more grief if they were told that the cause of the given tragedy was totally

explicable. In these cases, we must only take note of what typical psychological practices tell us: there is a time and role for the grieving process, and some individuals may naturally grieve in distinct ways (in some cases, by accepting supernatural accounts of evil). An emphasis on the preternatural quality of evil would serve no practical purposes here and, while right, would only exacerbate an already tense situation. Nonetheless, this stipulation only applies to certain individuals; it may be the case that a victim or family member may in fact feel more comforted by the knowledge that the suffering they have undergone is causally intelligible. And, of course, later stages of the grieving process may necessitate facing the intelligibility of such tragedies and learning to cope with their reality. This, I should mention, is somewhat speculative. It is only mentioned to distinguish between the intended and unintended audiences of this paper: the impracticality of supernatural evil has more to do with policymakers, the media, and those not in a direct-association with the tragedy. I write this paragraph to highlight a clarification, but I leave the attendant questions open to future discussion. So why, in these specific cases, should we consider the concept of supernatural evil practically unhelpful? The reason is dependent upon our earlier analysis. Supernatural evil offers no additional insight into the causal mechanism behind human behavior, and thus behind instances of human-induced tragedy. Further, if such a concept were to be posited, it would have to either exist in the chain of causal events (thus rendering it intelligible) or arise spontaneously (contradicting everything we seem to witness about causation). The absurdity of the latter option implies that the former is the only viable claim, yet this possibility entails a contradiction. Further, we really have no good justification for positing such a concept even if it could be fit into the causal scheme of human behavior; it wouldnt capture anything new that neurology, psychology, environmental factors, and ge netics wouldnt already determine. For all of these reasons, it should be granted that the concept is wrong. It is this wrongness which ultimately entails impracticality. Let us assume that the goal of positing an account for unwanted behavior is to prevent that behavior from recurring. This, obviously, precludes other goals (e.g., assuaging the victim or his/her family, as mentioned earlier). But these other goals are irrelevant, given the audience we have specified. Consequently, we need merely consider what is necessary for the prevention of such behavior. First, we would need to clarify the facts of the matter the tragedy in question, the human agent(s) who caused it, and various facts about the agent(s), as well as any other facts we might find relevant. Then, it would be left to scientific procedure to determine predictive, lawlike regularities, given the facts that exist. Once such an account is fully fleshed out, preventing a recurrence of the tragedy would require restricting or altering some of the facts of the matter such that the law-like regularity would predict a more positive outcome. Positing an unobservable, contradictory, and unnecessary concept like supernatural evil surely plays no role in this process. Let us take a real life example. On July 20th, 2012, lone gunman James Eagen Holmes entered a movie theater in Aurora, Colorado. Holmes proceeded to release tear gas and shoot indiscriminately into the aisles of a theater, killing 12 and injuring 58. Widespread coverage of the event, while rightly acknowledging the potential role of mental illness, continually called up images of pure or inexplicable evil. President Barack Obama himself stated that such violence, such evil is senseless. Its beyond reason. Necessary debates over gun control and mental healthcare reform degenerated into pronouncements about the natural inexplicability of evil. Evil, said columnist S.E. Cupp, is unpredictable and manifests itself in unimaginable

ways evil acts are nearly impossible to prevent. Lisa Fischer, of The Mirror, stated that Holmes actions are inexplicable and unforgiveable. Countless other journalists, pundits, amateur psychologists, politicians, and everyday citizens made similar claims in the wake of the Aurora tragedy, regardless of political affiliation, religious commitment, and so on. A simple internet search will further substantiate this claim, if there is any doubt. But what do we know about James Holmes? Reports indicate that he was an intellectually gifted individual, studying as a graduate student in neuroscience at the University of Colorado Anschutz Medical Campus. In his past, he served as a camp counselor, supervising many children without issue. He received high marks in school, ranking among the top 1% of his undergraduate class. Yet reports offered by John Jacobson Holmes intern supervisor stated that Holmes was really, oddly, stubborn, and that he was very undistinguished. Similar reports indicate that he was shy and potentially somewhat incompetent he never completed his research project at the Salk Institute, which was supervised by Jacobson. Further, records show that Holmes academic performance in graduate school suddenly declined, and that he failed an important oral examination. He may have also engaged in sexually risky behavior, including use of the website Adult FriendFinder and a possible connection with prostitution services. What we already see is the emergence of a psychologically complex situation, with a wide range of variables and behaviorally-relevant factors. What we do not see what we need not see is supernatural evil. Perhaps Holmes had a lifelong, unmanifested disposition toward mental illness which was triggered by a set of stressors (e.g., his failing grades or potentially non-existent sexual life). Oppositely, perhaps these latter phenomena were symptoms of some underlying mental illness. Perhaps Holmes upbringing conditioned him to have low er regard for human life; perhaps, as many have thrown around, access to guns or desensitization to media violence contributed to his desire to kill. The truth of each of these possibilities is presently irrelevant. What is important, instead, is that preternatural evil is afoot a horrific situation with currently-unknown yet certainly existent causes. While the parsing out of these various causes may be a difficult task, the posited notion of supernatural evil makes it no easier and offers no further account of a behavioral explanation. There is no place in the causal chain of events leading up to Holmes massacre for evil to slip in and change the outcome of the series. Positing an inexplicable sort of evil adds nothing to the conversation; it explains nothing that the facts could not already explain; if it exists, it is merely epiphenomenal, and it thus plays no causal role in determining Holmes behavior. We might also consider the rationalist counter, given above: this evil would have to arise spontaneously in Holmes consciousness (or wherever evil arises), otherwise it would be causally explicable. Positing a spontaneous evil is demonstrably unhelpful, for we cannot predict what arises non-causally. Further, it is entirely unnecessary for a full account of the horrific behavior in question. Holmes case, it should be seen, is in no sense unique. Often times, the immediate response of the layperson facing news of a tragedy is to ascribe to the instigator this supernatural evil, immediately obscuring a complete account of the situation. Worse yet, however, we can easily see that speculation about supernatural evil literally makes us defenseless against a recurrence of the tragedy. In light of the incorrectness of such a view, we have no reason to continue adopting it. The claims I am offering may be intuitively viewed as a desire to over -rationalize the situation, and some may claim that this is done in poor taste; that no one should try to be right about a situation as dark as the Aurora shooting, or the University of Texas massacre, or the Boston Marathon bombings, or the Newtown shootings. These people are correct no one

should use such tragedies as a means of merely affirming some behavioral pet theory. However, they miss the broader point: it is not that we should deny supernatural evil because it is an incorrect belief ipso facto; rather, we should deny supernatural evil because it merely perpetuates an atmosphere of non-explanation, and its acceptance enables an attitude opposed to prediction and prevention. This, ultimately, is why such a belief is so dangerous. If we accept, without skepticism, the notion that any instance of evil (no matter how severe) is totally inexplicable, then we reinforce the notion that examining the psychological, biological, genetic, and environmental factors is basically a useless exercise. In doing so, we relinquish any real possibility of offering a predictive account. And if we drop the idea of prediction, we drop the idea of prevention. Supernatural evil is a potent metaphysical concept but, as such, it is a thing which cannot be stopped. Yet we know that such an assertion is false; we attempt to stop evil all the time. As the heinousness or depravity of the tragedy increases, we should be more willing to attribute the events to observable causes. Unfortunately, our tendency seems to run in the opposite direction. But why is this the case? Why do we naturally ascribe to such horrible tragedies the property of supernatural evil? There are a number of possible reasons, I think, and many of them are nothing but speculation. A full understanding of this tendency must rely on empirical tests but there is no reason not to offer some ideas. First, and most abstractly, it can be observed that human beings tend to prefer a belief in personal autonomy or free will over a belief in determinism. The reasons for this are complex and many, and do not require an examination here. Nonetheless, it could well be possible that suggesting a causal account of evil immediately entails for some a reality without will; a reality where behavior is determined by relatively fixed (or non-volitional) factors of a biological and social type. Many find such an idea repugnant in itself, and so they may be hesitant to construe anyones behavior in terms of determinism, let alone one who has committed an atrocity. But this possibility entails a more specific (and more likely) account of our resistance to the idea of preternatural evil. If fixed laws or causal processes determine our behavior, then there is not a prima facie obvious way for human beings to retain a sense of responsibility. Thus, when a reprehensible act is committed, we would no longer be able to justifiably claim that the guilty party was truly guilty. In fact, we might say that the behavior was out of his or her control. But why do we tend to find such a possibility difficult to swallow? As the human brain is a patternrecognizing, survival machine, perhaps it is in our best evolutionary interest to ascribe responsibility to those who have committed a certain act; in other words, when we know who is responsible, we know who to avoid (or, alternatively, what types of people to avoid). This avoidance may, to our thinking, increase the chances of survival. Consequently, ascribing responsibility to subjects without considering the broad range of causal factors, and deeming such people evil, may naturally result. Incidentally, if this broad, evolutionary psychological conjecture is right, then we have a potential explanation for the tendency of some populations to, after determining a responsible party, generalize blame to entire races or cultures (consider antiIslamist rhetoric after 9/11, for instance; these are people one should avoid). A preternatural definition of evil undermines this bias, supposing instead that evil does not magically inhere in certain people or groups, but rather that what we term evil is really the result of myriad causal factors at play in a complex world. Perhaps, then, this is why people tend toward the supernatural definition. It is in line with our evolutionary interests to blame and avoid dangerous people; preternatural accounts challenge the simplicity of this view.

There are other potential explanations, however though many overlap with the evolutionary explanation. I would suspect that there is, for instance, a sort of superstitious thinking at play. Consider those who believe in the phenomenon of jinxing, or who refuse to risk stepping on a crack or walking under a ladder, not because of any rational belief, but out of an intuition that its just not worth the risk. This same sort of thinking may apply here; it is possible that some may superstitiously believe that denying what many perceive as evil (or even what ones self perceives as evil) may in some sense engender more evil or enable the evil already existent. It would be in poor taste, we might say, to challenge such a belief in evil, because its just not worth the risk whatever that risk might be. It could be a fear of deluding the true horror of the crime (though it really wouldnt), or the fear that failing to recognize such an evil would lead to social ostracization, or that the tragedy was just so bad that failing to acknowledge a supernatural evil would result in feelings of moral inadequacy (i.e., I am just as evil because I deny real evil in the world ). Whatever the perceived risk, it is clear that no real functional relationship between these beliefs and the feared effects ever obtains, just as stepping on a crack or jinxing someone does nothing to the actual events at play (though it may, in some cases, affect someones behavior via a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy; the risk of this, however, is unsubstantial, as many have denied evil without themselves becoming evil, apathetic, or ignorant of tragedy). There is, lastly, the possibility that ancient, well-engrained metaphysical beliefs may urge us to continue believing in supernatural evil. This may be the case, for instance, if one is religious. And while the implications of this paper (and other behavioristic, deterministic papers like it) are likely wide-ranging for the religious, it is important to merely look at the arguments as they stand, and recognize that a nuanced approach can still suffice. For instance, one could believe in a religious sort of supernatural evil (such as, say, original sin), while simply supposing that this evil is epiphenomenal that it merely coincides with those who behave badly, but ultimately doesnt cause behavior. This is something of a difficult compromise to swallow, I admit, but it is worth considering. Overall, however, compromise may not be the best choice, if the risks are truly as great as Ive portrayed them. These tendencies in our thinking these reasons we have for believing in supernatural evil are not well substantiated. Further, it seems that their continued acceptance would be a risky move. Rejecting them as illegitimate and unhelpful would, I suggest, be the best move we could presently make though it would require abandoning some strong intuitions and cognitive biases. It would require an honest look at the evidence, a scientific appraisal of behavior and its motivators, the potential loss of some deeply engrained beliefs, and the courage to deny the intuitive pull of superstitious thinking. Though these changes are all easier said than done, the interest of safety demands that we consider them. We must acknowledge the various nuances at play: denying supernatural evil does not mean denying that a tragedy was unwanted or horrible. It does not mean blaming all behaviors solely on the environment or on ones upbringing, and letting the individual off the hook (though in some cases, the environment may be to blame). It does not mean abandoning the legal system as it is presently structured, though it may someday mean taking a hard look at the abstract implications of such a system (including the possible nonexistence of free will, a redefinition of responsibility, and so on). These are frightening prospects to many of us, to be sure. They imply a sense of difficulty which may seem overwhelming. But let us be clear: this difficulty pales in comparison to the insurmountable quality of supernatural evil. Humankind has rendered the supernatural preternatural before. We have discovered that the moon was itself a satellite in space, and not some mythic god. And we have likewise reduced the

preternatural to the fully intelligible. We have made the moon a tangible thing; we have walked on its surface. Reason and our future safety implore us to recognize that human behavior is no different. We would do well to deny the cry of evil whenever it is posited in this mysterious and unintelligible way. The only thing inhibiting us, it seems, is our fear fear of relinquishing well-engrained habits of thought or cherished but incorrect beliefs. The one question we need to ask ourselves, then, is this: what do we fear more greater human harm or a mere change of belief?

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