The Villain's Tale

No-one is born a villain. People almost never wake up and say, “I think I've decided to be evil today.” Not even a psychopathic killer thinks they're the bad guy. They all have very good reasons for doing what they're doing. In fact, from their own perspective, they're actually the hero of this story. Selflessly taking on the burden of responsibility no-one else will, be it teaching the gullible to be less trusting, deposing the powerful so that all may benefit from their own benevolent rule, or ridding the world of an entire race that has brought nothing but misery. For such lofty goals, no price is too great. Gaslighting and gulags, all part of the sacrifice a benevolent leader must make. After all, they're the hero of this story, so of course it's all justified.

That may sound hyperbolic, but it's sadly all too real. The motivations are real, both in history, and to this day. I was stunned to hear this very philosophy espoused by a young man working on a political campaign. He said, because he's on “the right side” of history, he would “lie, cheat, and steal,” to see his desired outcome fulfilled. What’s surprising is that he actually said it out loud, but otherwise it's something I tongue-in-cheek refer to as the “Hero Complex.” I’m the hero of the story, so of course I’m in the right.

In another incident, a woman said to my sister “Why should he have a trial? We know he's guilty.” A person with no first (or even second) hand knowledge of the situation believed that they were so right in their judgment that a complete stranger should be imprisoned and have their life destroyed simply because they “knew” he was guilty. Again, the Hero Complex, this time appearing as a little tyrant in the heart of an otherwise very giving person.

Before writing Gatewalkers, I studied what I call “perfect villainy.” I needed to learn how to write a better villain than you see in most movies. I needed a villain who could hold power without anyone knowing he was the architect of their enslavement. Well, anyone but the people he'd brutally exterminated in the name of peace and equality. Through this study I learned how the best manipulators and abusers look like good people. They set brother against brother, daughter against mother, and never break a sweat because the enemy is always someone else. He convinces ordinary people to commit atrocities for the greater good, to enact genocide in the bland way of a pencil-pusher, and to enslave people by giving them everything they need. 

But I realize now I didn't go far enough. I did not yet fully understand the scope of what was before me. That was a good villain, but there is one better. The hero who overthrows that villain, and then takes their throne. After all, he had the right idea, but he failed because he was The Bad Guy ™. But I'm the hero, the Good Guy ™, so I'll get it right. But they fail to realize the most ancient truth: The line between good and evil is not out there, on some battlefield, but it runs through each human heart. If we cannot see our capacity to become the villain of the story, or how our good intentions could lead to evil, we are more likely to become that evil.

We knew this once upon a time. The hero was a hero not because they were the main character, and therefore everything they did was right. First they did what was right, and in doing that, they became a hero.

And that is where the final brilliance of Perfect Villainy comes in. Once upon a time, we had an objective standard of good and evil that our culture more or less adhered to. Then the philosophy of moral relativism (the concept of “my truth” and “your truth,”) came in, and stripped away those underpinnings. Most defenders of traditional morality thought that having no concrete morality was the end goal, then anyone could do whatever they wanted. But that was because they had not studied Perfect Villainy.

As G.K. Chesterton put it, when people stop believing in God, they don't believe in nothing, they believe in anything. With the old morality stripped away, the canny villain can then introduce their own moral code, one where their own villainy is the new morality. Perhaps theft is now moral in the name of equity, murder in the name of equality, and genocide in the name of justice. Without a morality centered in something greater than you, greater than society, something eternal, if you will, who wouldn't fall for this? You may now lie, cheat, steal, and murder, because you are the hero, and that's what heroes do.

If we do not realize our own potential for great evil, we are all the more likely to become it. Maybe not in graphic ways, but the Second World War was the poster child for the banality of evil; the Twentieth Century, its showcase. Millions died at the stroke of a pen, millions more enslaved in the name of equality. Now a new generation rises. It sees the horrors of the past, and thinks, “But if I had been in charge...” If we do not see ourselves for what we really are, if we do not face the darkness within our own hearts, then the cycle continues, and the Villain's Tale may become our own.

Perhaps someday I'll write a script about this. It sounds like a good story. But for now, I just have to make sure I don't live it.