Essay

Where does evil come from – and why the USA is no longer an exception

January 30, 2026
Kvar kjem vondskapen frå – og kvifor USA ikkje lenger er eit unntak

Where does evil come from – and why the USA is no longer an exception
Is humanity inherently good or evil?
Many Americans like to believe this is a philosophical question. It is not. It is a political question. And right now it is being answered – in reality, before our eyes.
For almost eighty years, the West lived with a moral framework shaped by the ruins of fascism and the World War. Democracy, the rule of law, human rights, and the limitation of power were not abstract ideals. They were survival mechanisms. They existed because one knew what happens when brutality is normalized and power goes unopposed.
This moral memory is now fading. And into the void, something darker is emerging.
Evil does not come as a monster. It comes as self-righteousness. As grievance. As the belief that some people matter more than others – and that the rules only apply to the weak. It thrives when ambition is decoupled from responsibility, when ego is rewarded more than character, and when brutality is called strength.
Look at the world today. Some people are not just fallible or misguided. They are driven by a will to dominate. They seek power not to govern, but to rule. Not to serve, but to humiliate. They are human, yes – but humans who have chosen the darkest impulses of human nature and built political movements around them.
Against them stands the majority: ordinary people who desire stability, justice, and peace. People who want to raise children, build communities, and live without fear. These people are not weak. They are the very backbone of a civilized society. But they are being drowned out – by noise, by rage, by deliberate chaos production.
Even justice has become a weapon. Words like “freedom,” “law,” and “security” are now regularly twisted to legitimize oppression. Justice becomes revenge. Patriotism becomes exclusion. Order becomes obedience.
This is not accidental.
Donald Trump is not just a symptom. He is a catalyst. His project is neither conservative, populist, nor unconventional – it is authoritarian. He has repeatedly shown that he does not accept democratic boundaries. Elections only count when he wins. Courts are legitimate only when they obey. Institutions exist to serve him, not the constitution.
When federal power is used to intimidate states, when political violence is normalized, and when armed force is turned into political theater, this is not “law and order.” It is authoritarian practice.
Call it by its right name.
Fascism does not begin with camps. It begins with language. With a refusal to describe reality. With the assertion that every warning is “exaggerated,” every alarm “hysterically,” every moral boundary “too divisive.”
The biggest gift Trump has received – from politicians, media, and citizens – is hesitation. The fear of appearing extreme. The need to appear reasonable while democracy is being hollowed out from within.
Silence does not protect democracy. It breaks it down.
The USA is not immune. No society is. The belief that the USA somehow stands outside of history is not patriotism – it is hubris. Democracies do not collapse because people hate freedom. They collapse because people take freedom for granted.
And the world watches.
Europe is also learning a hard lesson now. When leaders say that democracy cannot survive without American leadership, they send a signal of weakness. They invite aggression. They reinforce the dangerous illusion that power must always come from outside.
Evil grows when responsibility is shirked.
There is nothing inevitable about where this leads. But much is predictable. Authoritarian forces grow where fear replaces trust, where speed replaces reflection, and where identity replaces common responsibility.
The question we face is not whether humanity is capable of evil. We already know that.
The real question is whether we are still capable of courage –
to speak clearly,
to set boundaries,
to defend democracy not as a slogan, but as a moral duty.
History does not ask gently.
It asks if we recognized the moment when it came.
And if we acted.