Defending the West: The Line Within
Chapter 3- The Line Within
“The line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either—but right through every human heart.”
Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago
Morality started when humans realized that instinct alone can’t govern our actions. Left only to our impulses, we tend to pursue what benefits us with little thought for others. Every society, therefore, creates moral rules that supersede our instincts to judge and guide our behavior. These rules do more than steer actions; they categorize them. Some actions are seen as good and encouraged. Others are labeled bad and opposed. Finally, some are considered evil and actively fought against.
Not only can our actions be good, bad, or evil in themselves, but the person who commits them inherits the label that comes from the act. We call someone good because they consistently act with empathy toward others. We call someone bad when their indifference and self-interest seem to dominate their choices. Finally, we label those who knowingly choose to harm or exploit others as evil. Moral language, in other words, is a way of judging behavior and holding ourselves (and others) accountable for the results of our choices.
Being good isn’t just about performing helpful actions. True goodness starts with empathy, the ability to understand and share another person’s feelings and experiences. It shows itself through the principle often summed up by the Golden Rule: treat others as you want to be treated. While good deeds are important, the intentions behind those deeds are even more significant. A person might donate generously to a charity but do so to seek praise, admiration, or influence. Without empathy, even seemingly generous acts can often be just disguised manipulation.
Bad behavior reflects the erosion of that empathy. It is characterized by indifference toward others, often paired with excessive self-interest—what we usually call narcissism. Indifference doesn’t mean hating others; it simply means a lack of concern for their well-being. A leader who ignores reports of corruption or abuse because it “isn’t his problem” acts out of indifference. An employee who sees a colleague being mistreated and shrugs because it doesn’t affect him does the same. In both cases, a bad person tolerates or overlooks the harm to others because it doesn’t impact them.
Evil goes further, often much further. It is a deliberate choice to harm, manipulate, or exploit others for advantage or pleasure; in other words, cruelty. Where good recognizes the humanity of others, evil reduces people to objects to be used, manipulated, or destroyed. Where good restrains our self-interest out of regard for others, evil elevates self-interest above all restraint. The difference lies not only in the action itself but also in the willingness to commit it.
Once these distinctions are clear, the troubling truth becomes evident: since morality depends on our actions toward others, we all have the capacity for good, bad, or evil acts. This is the core message of Solzhenitsyn’s quote. After enduring years in the Soviet gulags, he realized that evil is not a trait of political systems or institutions but of the people who inhabit them. Everyone has the potential for good, bad, or evil, and our choices in how we treat others determine whether we are good, bad, or evil ourselves.
Evil isn’t limited to monstrous figures or oppressive systems. It happens when ordinary people convince themselves that harmful actions are justified, necessary, or unavoidable. While some commit evil through cruelty or greed, many more do so gradually by rationalizing their choices, obeying orders, and ignoring what’s right.
We resist acknowledging this because externalizing evil onto institutions protects our self-image. If wrongdoing is attributed to “the system,” economic pressure, cultural expectations, or temptation, responsibility shifts away from the individual. The old adage, “the devil made me do it,” expresses this perfectly. When we can say that the cause of our behavior lies outside us, we do not have to accept responsibility for our actions.
Institutions do not create this process as much as amplify it. Responsibility may be divided within organizations, but that division does not eliminate personal accountability. Every person who drafts a policy, approves an action, enforces an order, or looks away adds to the outcome. The soldiers who pushed innocents toward the gas chambers at Auschwitz might not have released the gas themselves, but their participation made the crime possible. Evil spreads when people give up their conscience in such small, gradual steps that they barely notice it fading.
When moral standards themselves become flexible or negotiable, this decline speeds up. Euphemisms are used to mask harsh realities; coercion becomes necessary, exploitation is framed as efficiency, and loyalty to the group replaces personal judgment. In that environment, the line within the human heart steadily moves in the wrong direction.
Solzhenitsyn’s insight, therefore, offers a practical warning. The fight between good and evil is not primarily waged between nations, parties, or ideologies. It happens within individuals. The same person who can show empathy to some can also commit acts of cruelty to others. The same ambition that is harnessed to build can also be used to destroy. Every misuse of authority begins when self-interest appears easier to justify than restraint.
If the line dividing good and evil runs through every human heart, then the main moral challenge isn’t eliminating evil but keeping that line steady inside ourselves, before our indifference turns into cruelty.
Copyright © 2026 by Michael Lines. All rights reserved.
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