The bad man desires arbitrary power. What moves the evil man is

“The bad man desires arbitrary power. What moves the evil man is the love of injustice.” Thus spoke John Rawls, the philosopher of fairness, the architect of modern moral reason. Though his words were written in the language of law and ethics, they resound like the ancient warnings of prophets and sages. For in this saying lies the eternal conflict between the just and the unjust — between those who seek power to serve and those who seek power to dominate. Rawls, like a modern Plato, reminds us that evil does not arise merely from ignorance or impulse, but from the love of injustice itself — a deliberate delight in the breaking of order, fairness, and truth.

To understand his words, one must recall the world he sought to heal. Rawls wrote in the aftermath of wars and corruption, in a century where the very idea of justice had been twisted by tyranny. He saw that the “bad man,” the one corrupted but not yet monstrous, is driven by a hunger for arbitrary power — power without rule, power without accountability. This is the power that bends laws to will and makes authority a personal instrument of desire. But the “evil man,” Rawls says, walks even further down the dark path. The evil man does not merely misuse power — he loves the misuse itself. Injustice becomes his pleasure, domination his joy. Where the good man delights in harmony, the evil man exults in ruin.

This truth is as old as history itself. Consider Caligula, the Roman emperor who began as a ruler of promise but descended into madness and cruelty. He did not seek power for peace, nor for glory, but for the sheer ecstasy of control. He humiliated senators, defiled sacred temples, and declared himself a god — not out of necessity, but out of a twisted love of injustice. To Caligula, the suffering of others was not a cost of his rule, but its reward. In him, we see the embodiment of Rawls’s warning: that when a soul learns to find beauty in cruelty, it has crossed the threshold from corruption into evil.

And yet, Rawls’s insight is not meant merely to condemn rulers of empires, but to awaken the conscience of every person. For the seed of arbitrary power lies within every heart that would place its will above what is right. When we demand exceptions for ourselves, when we use deceit to gain advantage, when we take delight in another’s downfall, we too touch the edge of injustice. The evil man is not born in palaces — he is born wherever the heart forgets empathy and exalts the self. Thus, the battle between good and evil is not waged on battlefields alone, but in the secret chambers of every human soul.

To desire justice, then, is to restrain the hand of pride; to resist the lure of arbitrary power is to defend our shared humanity. Rawls teaches that a just society depends not on the perfection of law, but on the purity of those who wield it. Laws may fail, systems may falter, but a people who love justice will always rise again. The danger lies not in imperfect institutions, but in the rise of those who no longer care whether what they do is right — who see injustice not as sin, but as sport.

Let us look also to those who stood against such darkness, that we may see Rawls’s truth from the other side. Think of Nelson Mandela, who, after decades of imprisonment, refused to return hatred for hatred. When the chains were broken, he could have sought vengeance. Instead, he sought reconciliation. He used power not arbitrarily, but wisely — not to divide, but to heal. He proved that the good man’s strength lies not in control, but in character, and that justice, when guided by love, can overcome even the deepest wounds of history.

So, my child, learn from Rawls’s wisdom and from the examples of the ages. Do not crave power for its own sake, for power without purpose corrupts the soul. Seek not to bend others to your will, but to bend yourself toward what is right. When you are given authority, wield it with humility. When you are wronged, do not repay cruelty with cruelty — for in that moment, you stand at the crossroads between the good man and the evil one.

And remember always: the true measure of virtue lies not in strength, but in restraint. The bad man may seize power, and the evil man may revel in injustice — but in the end, both destroy themselves from within. The one who loves justice, who hungers not for domination but for fairness, becomes a guardian of life itself. For as long as there are those who cherish justice above power, the light of goodness will never be extinguished.