on road signs and the banality of evil

In long rural stretches of our country, the miles seem indistinguishable, never ending. Nearing a state line, there is no spatial distinction between a road claimed by Tennessee and one claimed by North Carolina. Indeed, the Smoky Mountains, and the curves and tunnels of Interstate 40, don’t really care which state’s Department of Transportation pays for each mile. And yet, for a driver tracking her progress, signs that announce when a county ends or begins are helpful. They offer perspective. “Tennessee: The Volunteer State, Welcomes You”, is a sign reminding you that you are not trapped on an endless journey with no direction. It tells you where you are and where your actions are leading you.

Hannah Arendt was a philosopher and political theorist who attended Adolf Eichmann’s trial after World War II. After sitting in court, hearing the testimony of Nazi order givers and Nazi order receivers, she wrote a piece in The New Yorker in which she described “the banality of evil.” Evil is not radical, she claimed, it is neither exceptional nor always recognizable. Hearing purveyors of evil confess their choices and delusional perceptions of the impact of those choices, Arendt refused to compartmentalize the evil that created the Shoah. Horrifically, she concluded that evil is ordinary because people don’t pay attention.

Arendt understood that everything matters. She also understood that the human capacity to maintain perspective is wildly undependable. Most of us tend to think we both control our decisions and understand the implications they have for others. We know we have to share: the earth’s resources, our infrastructure, our learning, roads, food and water. Moreover, we share humanity, with inherent dignity, dreams, and our need for shelter, belonging and purpose. However, this shared-ness exists in conflict with a dominant identifier of American culture: Independence.

Our love of independence has wonderful outcomes. The protestant work ethic, the resiliency to survive, our identity as overcomers…these are all fruits of the tree of independence. Our love of individuality has a delusional side though, namely that we believe that our choices are ours alone. We get angry if anyone tells us what to do, and we often avoid the obvious truth that what we do with our time, money, energy and children impacts others. We say we want to be responsible for ourselves, but I want to suggest that we are responsible for the way our action and inaction affect the people around us. Our choices are not made in vacuums because we don’t live in vacuums. We live in neighborhoods, and each of us would perish in a week if we tried to live without the assistance of others.

This is why those state welcome signs are so helpful. As Arendt discovered, we quickly lose perspective, and without a marker—a sign reminding us of where we are and where we are headed—we easily continue down roads that are destructive. Like those who followed evil orders in Germany and Poland, seemingly unaware of the implications of their actions, we also quickly adjust to a status quo that demeans others, even if it is evil.

For instance, in Nashville, Tennessee, we have close to 88,000 kids enrolled in our public schools. 3,000 of them are homeless. One in six of them suffer from daily food insecurity. Parents who work full time for minimum wage live well below the poverty line, unable to pay for rent and food for their families. Our Sheriff’s Deputies are first line mental health care providers in our city, even though they receive neither the training nor the resources to adequately meet the mental health needs of our impoverished and addicted community members. Our state has not taken adequate steps to provide medical coverage for our citizens, despite the fact that we are absolutely certain they will need and receive the most expensive form of healthcare through emergency rooms. These realities are outrageous, and they should make us furious. How do we blithely share neighborhoods and roads and grocery stores with folks who are desperate to survive the kind of evil that ignores their existence?

Arendt would say we share space with folks living in extreme suffering quite easily, because evil doesn’t wear a cape and carry a pitchfork when it enters our neighborhoods. It exists in the banalities of life. It thrives when we make small choices to segregate ourselves so we don’t have to see suffering people. It thrives when we decide our ability to choose our insurance provider—our independence—matters more than making sure every person who needs healthcare is covered. It flourishes when we trust politicians and business owners who say higher wages will hurt the economy and stock market, but don’t pause to figure how little full time minimum wage actually earns a person. It grows when we rename apathy “faithful”, and pretend that paying attention to the slow tragedy of crushing poverty is not our job.

Evil thrives when we decide we aren’t responsible for the things happening in our communities. It takes root when we don’t pause to consider how our choices impact the lives of others. The great news is that we don’t have to live this way. We don’t have to ignore the ordinary signs of evil to which we have grown accustomed. Instead, look for the signs that offer perspective. They will likely be different for all of us, but they will appear if you look for them. Pay attention to the lives of vulnerable folks, and allow what you see to reorient your own approach to life. Instead of driving on cruise control, lost in thought, look around. Look for the markers that will restore your sense of justice, of shared dignity and responsibility to you. Look for signs that allow you to see where your choices take you, and who they ignore or diminish. Follow urges to take responsibility for what happens around you. Develop the habit of paying attention, and then take action to help, lest we all surrender to the monotonous road, full of ordinary evil.