Evil

If we count each instance of a distinct virus as a cause for a slowdown in the processing speed of a computer, then we have thousands of potential factors that can lead to the same result. Macro, polymorphic, multipartite, direct action…. Those are just the general ‘types’ or categories. There are many of those categories, and within each live strangely named malware created by malcontents a world over, all in some way capable of creating a certain level of disruption.  Their forms are as varied as are their source and purpose. A myriad of these pesky lines of codes can aggregate in a computer and grind its functionality to a halt.

The convergence of hardware and software provide two major avenues for dysfunction within a system, and viruses exploit vulnerabilities within the software component of the computer system.

They are just machines after all, the vulnerabilities of which only serve to reflect those of their creators in some way. Much like computers, our human system can be divided into the hardware of the physical form and the software of the conscious; conscious in this sense referring to our capacity for thought and introspection. The computer has its CPU, the physical shell that contains the electrical charges that create the zeroes and ones that ultimately bring life to the content seen upon this monitor you are using right now. Similarly, the shell that is our skull, houses the physical brain which in itself houses the electrical impulses passed around by neurotransmitters, which through processes I will never understand, give genesis to thought and reason, the same thought and reason that allow you to interpret my words.

It is not a forceful analogy, the description of man as a biological machine is not a particularly novel one. Through selective rhetoric, one can build a case for the similarities rather easily. The virus comparison, for example, forms an apt metaphor for mental or psychological disorders. Among mammalian species, we humans are born the least developed and require the most amount of time to reach mental and psychological adulthood. This being the evolutionary trade-off to having highly developed brains capable of managing complex reasoning, communication and social interaction, without sacrificing the physical requirements of our adult bodies. We are born small and helpless so we can be intelligent and adaptable. But adulthood requires a long process of growth and development. A process which can be retarded, stunned, or otherwise harmed by trauma during the time in our development in which we are most vulnerable.

The rational part of the brain is not fully developed until about the age of 25.  That is 25 years of building software with limited, if any virus protection. It is difficult enough avoiding life-altering trauma as the average developing human. Now imagine being exposed to that very same trauma we all wish to avoid, through either neglect or purposeful exposure by the very people that conceived you or assumed the role of your protectorate in some way. Imagine what would happen if early on, in this most formative of processes, one were to be sexually or psychologically abused by a parent or other trusted adult? Imagine what would happen if during this most vulnerable of times, one were to be neglected when we require positive psychological input the most?

It does not strain the imagination to put together the picture of what happens to the malleable brain of a child, when introduced to this type of corrosive malware. Now this is a highly selective example, but in 90% of cases of dissociative identity disorder, there is a history of childhood abuse. Correlation by no means equals causation, there could be a number of genetic and environmental causes, and I by no means am any authority to theorize or hypothesize about complex psychological phenomena I don’t fully understand. However, when you read about psychopathy, narcissistic personality disorder, or any number of psychological disorders, a pattern does start to emerge in regards to the etiology of these ills, and it often and intimately involves some sort of childhood trauma.

This is a topic I have been drawn to for a long time and one that I suspect will continue to draw my attention. Largely because there are aspects of my own personality that I don’t fully comprehend and I do believe some of the answers to the questions about myself lie somewhere in my past. Whatever trauma I may have dealt with could be relatively inconsequential to my development, but there is inevitably a connection between my childhood experiences and my outlook on the world. This is true for just about everyone. What we are is as much preconceived by our genetics, as it is preconceived by our environment. Which leaves one with the question; How much control over what we become do we truly have? If we are ultimately biological equipment easily and drastically changed by malware in the form of trauma during our developmental periods, then where does that leave us in the context of morality?

Formulating a clear distinction between right and wrong becomes impossible when that in-itself requires the presence on some pre-conceived notions of what right and wrong feel like, look like, or sound like. But those terms are already deceptive enough on their own, so we require certain moral guidelines in forms of religious texts, and when those are not specific enough to encompass the nuances of right and wrong, then we create legal systems to delineate the minutia. But that is the forest for the trees. Context for right and wrong is just as important as being able to describe what right and wrong are. Because what is the use of morality if not to maintain some sort of societal equilibrium. The issue with that is that once we delve into the psychological dimension and we truly begin to understand what made a person the final result that stands before you, it becomes difficult to impart morality. When you see a broken machine for what it is, it is now more difficult to prioritize moral preconceptions. So in those moments, we often denigrate a person based on their actions, because that is ultimately easier than understanding why they committed them. Because to understand the Why can be a little scary sometimes

Take Ted Bundy for example. There is a recent Netflix documentary about the serial killer which served as the catalyst for this piece. The fact that this person is an absolute monster by our moral standards is a trite thing to say, but bears mentioning every time his name is uttered simply based on the atrocious nature of his actions. I believe what makes him terrifying, more so than the countless murders, is his proximity to the human condition, while simultaneously being just far enough from it, to be able to create nightmares at the scale he did. Whatever the cause for his psychopathy (genetic, environmental, or otherwise), how does one reconcile morality with the fact that he may not have had any actual control over what he became? His hardware looked just like any other human, yet his software seems so obviously disrupted in some fundamental way. If it was genetic, it was beyond his ability to choose what biological inheritance caused him to be devoid of his humanity. If it was environmental or caused by early trauma, what choice did he have as to who or what he was exposed to as a child? If it was some structural defect caused by an accident like in the case of Phineas Gage, then can we truly judge someone with that experience?

If you don’t believe in the divine, in the idea that there are such things as good and evil, then where do you put someone so obviously broken like a Bundy, or any serial killer for that matter? To characterize someone like that as evil and pass judgement based on their actions is easier, more digestible than to try to discern their humanity. Because that is where it gets uncomfortable, at least that is the case for me. To think that the difference between you and someone like a serial killer is a couple of roles of the genetic dice and a couple of spins from the wheel of fate, is a little unnerving. Ultimately, what stands between most of us and the worst of us, is a chasm of luck and circumstance. Evil, if you believe in it, is comforting despite its nature. Because evil is a simple explanation, something you can tell yourself to compartmentalize what you find incomprehensible. Because evil means that it’s a force from the beyond, one predetermined by the divine, a force that finds a human host and can be deleted by disposing of the host. Because by accepting evil as a concept, you do not need to confront the idea that evil is just you, with a little more bad luck.