“Never wrestle with a pig. You both get dirty, and the pig likes it.” This timeless bit of wisdom, often attributed to Mark Twain, vividly captures a simple but powerful truth: there are situations in life where direct engagement with those who are committed to wrongdoing does more harm than good. Whether one attributes the quote to Twain or another witty observer of human nature, its meaning remains the same. When you spend time grappling with those who thrive in the mud of immoral or destructive behavior, you risk sullying yourself—and, worse, giving them exactly what they crave. If we link this to the caution of 1 Corinthians 15:33—“Do not be misled: ‘Bad company corrupts good character’”—the message is clear: there comes a point at which continued debate with evil becomes counterproductive.
In many cases, a sense of moral duty can compel us to try changing the hearts of people who seem to have fallen prey to harmful conduct or beliefs. It can feel like a noble cause to persistently show them the errors of their ways, especially if we are committed to seeking goodness and justice. Yet consider the Stoic perspective, which holds that virtue is non-negotiable and should not be cheapened by arguing with individuals who refuse to recognize fundamental moral truths. For Stoics like Epictetus, discourse is only fruitful among those who seek wisdom in earnest. If a person has rejected the very underpinnings of honorable conduct, then to spend endless hours in debate is to risk appearing as though there is indeed a “side” worth entertaining when, in reality, no such side exists. The act of trying to reason with the incorrigible grants them an unwarranted platform, suggesting their behavior might be debatable rather than unequivocally wrong.
This principle of disengagement is not an invitation to complacency. It is, in fact, the opposite. When we refuse to dignify evil behavior with endless discussion, we leave ourselves free to counter it more effectively. Instead of wrestling in the mud, we stand firm in virtuous action, speaking out against wrongdoing and opposing destructive agendas through constructive means—legal efforts, civic engagement, or community-building—without falling into the trap of legitimizing the moral emptiness of evildoers. In the words of Marcus Aurelius, “The best revenge is not to be like your enemy,” reminding us that virtue shines brightest in contrast to depravity.
Another powerful strategy is to let our lives serve as an example of the transformation that those lost in moral darkness truly need. Rather than trying to lecture them out of their misdeeds, we become living proof that integrity, empathy, and justice are not only possible but deeply rewarding. When we model the virtues that evildoers lack—rational thought, justice, temperance, courage—we stand as a beacon that they cannot ignore. Some may mock or resent us, but they will know, at their core, that a better path exists. By steadfastly refusing to mire ourselves in their tactics or to treat their position as rational, we undermine their power at its roots.
Ultimately, the Biblical exhortation against bad company and the Mark Twain quip converge on the same warning: lose yourself in futile debates, and you will find you have legitimized something that did not deserve serious consideration in the first place. There comes a time to stop trying to change minds that have willed themselves shut. Instead, we should oppose evil directly and, most importantly, show a better way through our own conduct. This does not imply running from conflict—it means facing wrongdoers on our own terms, guided by ethics rather than entangled in their mud.
The next time you feel compelled to wrestle in the mud of someone else’s wickedness, remember the pig who likes getting dirty and the sage advice of 1 Corinthians 15:33. Reflect on whether more debate will genuinely help, or if it will only grant your opponent the appearance of legitimacy. Instead, disengage from fruitless argument, stand confidently in your principles, and take purposeful steps that directly counter their harmful goals. In doing so, you preserve your integrity, defend what is right, and illuminate a righteous path by the power of your own example. Let that example speak louder than any argument ever could, and let it stand as proof that evil cannot thrive where virtue holds firm.