Evil is the moment when I lack the strength to be true to the

Hear now, O seekers of truth, the words of the philosopher Alain Badiou, who spoke of the eternal struggle within the heart of man: “Evil is the moment when I lack the strength to be true to the Good that compels me.” This is no simple definition of wickedness as cruelty or malice. It is a confession, an unveiling of the frailty of the human soul. For evil is not always a monstrous act performed with joy, but often the quiet betrayal of one’s own calling, the surrender to weakness when the Good demands courage.

The Good, in Badiou’s teaching, is not a fleeting pleasure, nor a command from without, but a summons from the very depths of being. It is the voice that compels a man or woman to rise above selfish desire, to act with justice, to remain faithful to love, to pursue truth even when it is costly. Yet the Good is not an easy master. It demands sacrifice, endurance, and faith. To betray it requires only one thing: the loss of strength. Thus, evil is born not always from malice, but from cowardice—the refusal to stand firm when the Good has already touched the soul.

Consider the tale of Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor. He knew, by his own words, that the man before him, Jesus of Nazareth, had done no wrong. His heart whispered of innocence, of justice. Yet lacking the strength to resist the voices of the crowd, he washed his hands and condemned the innocent to death. Here is Badiou’s teaching made flesh: evil as weakness, evil as the failure to stand true to the Good one already knows. Pilate was not driven by hatred, but by fear, by weariness, by lack of courage. And his name endures in history as a warning.

So too, in more recent times, think of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German pastor who resisted the tyranny of the Nazis. He knew the Good compelled him to resist, though the cost was great. Unlike Pilate, he did not betray that call. He stood firm, writing, preaching, and even joining the plot to end tyranny. Though he was imprisoned and executed, his life bore the mark of fidelity. He showed that evil is not inevitable, for when strength is found to remain faithful, even death cannot rob the Good of its victory.

This, O children of tomorrow, is the battlefield within every soul. Each of you has known the whisper of the Good: to speak truth when lies would be easier, to defend the weak when silence would be safer, to remain faithful to love when betrayal promises pleasure. In such moments, the measure of your life is weighed. If you falter, if you lack the strength, you create evil not by intention, but by surrender. Yet if you endure, you bring forth light into the world, a light no darkness can extinguish.

The lesson, therefore, is both stern and hopeful. Stern, because no one may excuse themselves by saying, “I did no wrong,” when they failed to do the right they knew was required. Hopeful, because strength can be cultivated, and the Good is not far from any of us. Through discipline, through prayer, through reflection, through courage in small things, the heart is made strong for the greater trials. Evil triumphs not when men choose cruelty, but when they lack the inner fortitude to remain faithful.

Practical is this counsel: each day, test your strength in little acts of fidelity. Speak kindly when harshness tempts you. Hold fast to truth when deception whispers its ease. Practice courage in the small storms, so that when the great tempest comes, you may not falter. For every small act of strength is training for the day when the Good compels you to stand in the face of fear.

Thus remember Badiou’s words: “Evil is the moment when I lack the strength to be true to the Good that compels me.” Guard your strength, cultivate your courage, honor the summons of the Good, and you will live a life that stands firm as a beacon against the darkness of the age. For the world does not only fall by the hands of the wicked—it falls by the weakness of the good. Let it not be said of you that you lacked the strength, but rather that you remained faithful, even to the end.