Torture is such a slippery slope; as soon as you allow a society

Hear now the grave wisdom of Iain Banks, who spoke with a voice both mournful and prophetic: “Torture is such a slippery slope; as soon as you allow a society or any legal system to do that, almost instantly you get a situation where people are being tortured for very trivial reasons.” These words strike like iron upon the heart, for they remind us that cruelty, once permitted, spreads like wildfire. It begins with justification, cloaked in necessity, but soon consumes justice itself, leaving only fear, corruption, and dishonor in its ashes.

The heart of the teaching lies in the phrase slippery slope. For when a people allow the practice of torture, even for reasons they believe are noble or urgent, they have already begun the descent into darkness. The line between grave necessity and trivial pretext dissolves like sand in rain. What begins as “for the safety of the many” becomes “for the convenience of the few,” and soon, punishment is inflicted not on the guilty alone, but on the powerless, the inconvenient, and even the innocent.

History cries out with examples of this truth. In the shadow of the Spanish Inquisition, torture was first justified as a tool to defend the faith against heresy. But soon, men and women were broken on the rack or stretched upon the wheel for the pettiest of suspicions, the smallest of deviations, or the whispers of an enemy seeking gain. Fear reigned where justice should have lived, and the holy name of faith was stained with cruelty. What began with solemn vows to protect society ended as a machinery of fear that consumed countless lives.

Nor is this danger confined to ancient times. In the modern age, during moments of war and terror, governments have sometimes yielded to the temptation of “enhanced interrogation.” They claimed it was a tool for saving lives, yet the world learned how quickly this justification turned to abuse. Ordinary captives, sometimes accused by error or suspicion alone, suffered unspeakable pain—not because they held great secrets, but because cruelty, once unleashed, seeks always more victims. Thus Banks’s warning resounds across ages: once a society permits torture, it soon becomes blind to its own descent.

The ancients knew this truth in another form. They told of Pandora’s box, which once opened, released plagues into the world that could not be recalled. So it is with torture: the moment its lid is lifted, the spirit of cruelty escapes and cannot easily be caged again. Discipline and honor may guard a people for a time, but the human heart, corrupted by fear or ambition, will always push the boundaries further until reason itself is lost.

What lesson, then, must we take? That justice must never be divorced from mercy, and that society must draw an unyielding line against cruelty, even when tempted by fear. For there are weapons too dangerous to wield, not because they are weak, but because they are too strong, corroding the very hand that holds them. A people that seeks safety through torture gains not safety, but a prison of their own making, where trust dies and tyranny is born.

To us, the children of tomorrow, the call is clear: reject cruelty in all its forms. Defend the rights of even the smallest and the weakest, for in their defense lies the protection of all. When fear whispers that harshness is needed, remember the countless victims who suffered not because they were guilty, but because cruelty was once allowed to flourish. Stand firm, and let your conscience be the shield that guards against the slow descent into barbarity.

Thus, let the wisdom of Iain Banks be carried like a torch through the corridors of time: never allow torture, for once the door is opened, justice flees, and cruelty becomes master. Hold fast to dignity, to law, and to compassion, for these are the pillars upon which true civilization rests. Only then shall your society remain free, strong, and worthy of the name of humanity.