The Banality of Evil and the Obligation to Think

 
The “I Feel” Movement

When I was a kid, we used to start some sentences with the words “I feel,” but they were always followed by something limited to our own immediate experience or sensory perception: “I feel cold,” “I feel hungry,” “I feel sad,” etc. We had a separate way to express our thoughts. We started sentences with “I think”: “I think we should look at the map to make sure we are on track,” or “I think I will have enough money to cover it.” We would never switch out the words “I think” for “I feel.”

This correct use of the English language, which differentiates between subjective and objective reality, has shifted toward an almost exclusive overuse of the words “I feel” at the beginning of nearly every sentence—whether it expresses a fact, an opinion, a feeling, or an observation of truth. It is common to hear young people say things like,  “I feel we should use GPS to make sure we are on track,” or “I feel that my parents will have enough money to cover it.” 

Without going too deeply into the reasons for this, it is evident that the project of secular educational theory has prevailed in how children are taught to express themselves. The desire to understand feelings is paramount. One’s own feelings and the feelings of others have become the basis on which character education is taught.

According to its own definition secular education character formation is the process through which people build skills to understand feelings, set goals, show empathy, and make good choices. Its main aim is to help people develop healthy relationships, manage emotions, and succeed in school and life. In a system in which objective truth is denied, it stands to reason that feelings would become paramount, since they express subjective truth so well.

There are a lot of good things to say about Generation Z—those who are now in their twenties—and the younger Generation Alpha. In general, they seem to be the impetus behind the pendulum’s swing away from a reckless, jaded, and hopeless materialism and New Atheism and back toward the adoption of a grounded, traditional, and more hopeful religious worldview.

Some would argue that this was inevitable because of the collapse of the New Atheism movement and the utter bottoming out of morality, as indicated by the inability of our scholars and elites to define the word “woman.” Combine this with disillusionment in science as a messianic savior in the aftermath of the man-made COVID-19 pandemic and the rise of a Frankensteinian AI nightmare ahead.

It may have been inevitable that the younger generations would rebound from the excesses of a morally relativistic collapse, but it is remarkable that they have managed to see through the brainwashing to the point of developing a newfound appreciation for critical thinking and conscience formation.

Every so often, I catch my students beginning an intellectual expression of their discovery of objective truth with the words “I feel.” For example: “I feel that, since Jesus took on human nature, we humans have a chance to become holy.” It is not their fault. It has been drilled into their brains that they should primarily express their feelings.

Now, when they say “I feel,” I know that they mean to say “I think.” Any animal can feel, and feelings are natural for human beings, but to think rationally and critically is the exclusive privilege of being human. We ought to thank God for the gift of reason rather than run away from the responsibility it imposes.

The truth is that people who think carefully about the Truth are the most capable of empathy. They are able to form their consciences and habituate virtue in an orderly way, with an end in mind.

Nowadays, the most common sin of omission stems from adopting a feelings-based moral code built solely on a flimsy, subjective foundation. The omission of thought makes acting according to a well-formed conscience impossible. The “I feel” movement has replaced a well-formed conscience with no form at all.

The only concrete principle is to act according to how you feel—or, as it is more commonly stated, to “follow your heart.” By that, people usually mean following their appetites.

The Moral Obligation to Think

There is an old saying: “Your thoughts become your words; your words become your actions; your actions become your character; your character becomes your destiny.”

I think it is a pretty good bit of wisdom, but I am not sure to whom this maxim should be attributed, since I have seen it placed next to the names of Gandhi, Buddha, and even Sun Tzu. It is curious that it is often placed in the category of Eastern thought when it bears the stamp of the Western Aristotelian and Thomistic theology of virtue ethics.

We Catholics echo this pattern at the beginning of every Sunday Mass:

“I confess that I have sinned—in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and in what I have failed to do.”

It is therefore true that, as human beings with rational souls, we are responsible for thinking, and we have an obligation to think thoughts that are good. Furthermore, we must act according to a well-formed conscience based on the application of the Eternal Law of God as expressed through nature and revelation: Scripture, Tradition, and the teachings of the Magisterium.

Though fallen, we must do good, and with the help of God’s transformative grace, we must avoid evil.

Hannah Arendt coined the phrase “the banality of evil” while reporting on the 1961 trial of Adolf Eichmann. In her subsequent book, she tried to wrap her head around the extraordinarily high level of evil committed by such a mediocre and unimpressive person.

Eichmann’s defense against the accusations that he had organized the mass arrest, transportation, and murder of millions of Jews during the Holocaust was simply to claim that he was an ordinary bureaucrat who had obeyed orders.

Arendt argued that banal evil thrives when people stop thinking critically and blindly follow bureaucratic rules. In Catholic terms, shutting down one’s critical thought process in order to simply “do your job” is a profound moral failure.

Our consciences are formed by thoughts, not feelings. Thoughts inform our words and actions, while feelings are often the result. We feel guilty when we get morality wrong, or we feel at peace when we get it right. The Catechism defines conscience not as a feeling, instinct, or personal preference, but as “a judgment of reason” by which a person recognizes whether a particular act is morally good or evil.

Banal evil is not the same as a thoughtful and passionate desire to cause harm. It is better defined as a failure of the will and a lack of courage to choose the good. In Catholic theology, we call these failures sins of omission: standing by, remaining a passive bystander, or allowing institutional evils to continue, usually because of feelings of fear.

Thinking is the first step. It is the antidote to the banality of evil and the surest way to overcome feelings of fear or indifference.

Teachers must recover a balance between feelings-based education and the gift of thinking through our moral choices. Human beings are not pets to be confined within the cage of subjective feelings and animalistic desires and appetites.

We were made free to know. We are thinkers and knowers, capable of recognizing objective truth through reason and forming our consciences according to that truth.

This is why Saint Paul never said, “Follow your heart.”

Instead, he said:

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing, and perfect will.”

—Romans 12:2