Some approach evil as though it were a thing that can be broken, mastered, or brought to heel. They weigh it against good, as though the two exist on a scale, each requiring the other for balance. Others meet it as an enemy, believing it can be overcome through strength alone, or handled closely without being consumed by the heat that lies at its center.
This reasoning begins with a mistake. Evil is given a form it does not possess. Once imagined as something embodied, it appears vulnerable to elimination. From there, it becomes possible to believe that by destroying those who have yielded to its deceit, the source itself is diminished. Some go further still, taking up the same means and convincing themselves that the end will justify what is done in its pursuit.
But evil does not reside in flesh, nor does it submit to force. It cannot be tamed, confronted, or defeated by human hands. It does not live where weapons can reach it. It moves instead through invitation and consent, entering where it is permitted and withdrawing where it is refused. Its existence is not upheld by those it deceives, nor undone by their destruction.
The power to remove it does not belong to those who oppose it, but to the one who allowed it to exist at all. That authority does not pass through human grasp. It remains held elsewhere.
Once this is understood, a quiet reckoning follows. If defeat is not ours to claim, then conquest is not the measure. The task is not eradication, but resistance. Not dominance, but endurance. Not the illusion of control, but the discipline of refusal.
Evil is not overcome by force, but by not being given ground.
And the work of standing, though lesser than victory, is the work that has always been required
© 2026 Steven Scott. All Rights Reserved.
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