Long has my mind been plagued with the question of whence cometh evil? I know the freewill argument indicates that it originates in the will of the one exercising said will. I know that some indicate that evil is but an illusion of the mind, which need be eradicated. I know that the devil or Satan is considered by many to be the author of evil. I know that God himself is subject to scrutiny for having at the very least having permitted evil in his good world. I know that God is defended as having some great plan or purpose in permitting evil or even in causing evil. I know that evil can be defined as natural or moral. I know that the Scriptures indicate that evil resides in the heart of every human being–and I know it does in mine.

Still, the question remains: whence doth evil come?

Does it come from me? Or from you? From nature? From institutions? From societies? From God? From Satan? From whom or what does it come?

I have considered the origin of evil in an action: is the object of a murderer, say, a stone, the source of evil? Or is it the force with which he bashes the stone against the skull of his victim? Or is it the hand, the fingers, the wrist, the arm, the shoulder of the murderer? Or is it his heart? I suppose, it could only be his “heart,” metaphorically so, since if we were to rip open his chest and tear out his “evil” heart, we should find no thing of evil, but just a pumping vessel.

Then, we must ask, is there even such a “thing” of evil? That is, is evil an object, a thing, whether conceptually or concretely? If it be a concrete thing, where is it? Where might we geolocate the precise location of evil? If it be a concept, is it lodged in the mind? If it be an object of the mind, where in the mind is it located? And can I have a mind full of evil or half-way full of evil? Is it merely a quality rather than a quantity?

If evil be a quality rather than a quantity, what kind of quality is it? And where does the quality of evil come from? Is it mere ascription of a description of a state of being in reality? But is not a real and actual object that can be held in the hand like a hammer or in the mind like a color or number? If it be a quality, is it merely a feeling, a sense, an understanding of the way in which something or someone is in fact?

I can sense and feel and perceive with my understanding evil, as I assess and survey the world without and the world within, looking about myself at the news reports and headlines, looking within myself at the news reports and headlines therein. And I can have a sense about the vibe of someone, whether they are evil or not, just from the aura they give off. And I myself can give off an aura, a vibe, a sense, a feeling of evil or lack thereof.

But to pin down evil is as easy as pinning down a bar of super wet soap, elusive as it seems to be: almost like determining whether a work is art or not, so is determining whether a deed or act, an event or situation, a person, place, or thing is in fact evil.

So, we are no further along than before at determining just whence cometh evil.

It is not in the hard stone in the hand of the murderer, nor is it in the heart and blood therein of the stone-handed murderer, nor does it lie in the in victim’s bashed-open head. Evil is not a quantity we might measure out and say, “Ah! Here you go: here’s your fifty pounds of evil.” Evil is more a quality, if not indeed a mere quality, which we might sense or feel with the understanding.

Conceptual as it is, evil is not lodged in the mind, per se, but is ascertained in the understanding, as we preview the world and the actions therein. Even still, evil is not an action itself, per se, nor is it definitely always this or always that. For instance, killing a man may or may not be evil, depending on the circumstances: if the man is killed by you in self-defense and to save a kitten, whom the man is ominously threatening, then you are a hero; if the man is killed by you in a fit of rage and for no good reason except blood-thirst, then you are, in fact, not a hero, but a raging maniac who needs to be locked up and incarcerated.

An act is evil if it is done in an evil way with an evil intent and has an evil consequence. Thus, the way in which an action is executed and the motivation of an action as well as the fallout of the action are all necessary considerations when locating evil.

But evil is not merely in actions, it is also in nature–though, perhaps, only for man, who is apparently a moral being. For if Bambi were to burn a slow and torturous death in the wildfires of California, would Bambi or his mother or father be moved with rage or sorrow or delight at the incendiary incident? I don’t know. I do know that most human beings would be incensed that such a situation should occur.

But then there we go with speciesism, determining that the suffering of poor Bambi is some great evil–when, in fact, it is merely the natural process of nature and nothing more, even if we were to assess it as much more. Hard as it may be to swallow, every inclination or feeling we have about something as evil does not thereby make it truly evil: it does make it evil for us, the one having the feeling, but it does not make it objectively evil–and I am looking for objective evil, wherever it might be.

Now, evil may be a construct of the human mind, a mere fabrication of social agreements that facilitate the furthering of humanity’s seed, but I wonder if we might say that when confronted with the limbless, bloated child of some war-torn country? Then again, perhaps, the feeling of repulsion we might experience at such an atrocity might just be a bit of gas in our intestines.

The feeling of repulsion at the sight of such a maimed and malnourished child seems to be our feeling of humanity, which unites us across all kinds of ethnic groups and racial boundaries. I suppose we allow our feeling of humanity to spill over unto animals as well, as we feel very bad for poor creatures like the incinerated Bambi, but for one of our own kind–another human being–we tend to feel a kind of kinship. And if we hate another human being for one reason or another, we tend to dehumanize that individual so that they are less than human and even less than animals, whom we tend to elevate in our estimations; thus, we thereby affirm the feeling of humanity by denying it for a particular individual.

Evil, then, might be relegated to humanity, at the very least. For the “evil” of nature is simply nature doing as nature does, being that which it is: we can hardly judge nature as right or wrong for being just what it is. We can, however, judge ourselves and other human beings as right or wrong, good or evil.

But where in the human or in the body of humanity is the evil located? In the hand, the head, the brain, the heart, the legs, the sexual organs? We, of course, cannot locate evil in anything physical in the human body. Neither, however, is it merely a construct of the mind, for there are real and actual effects of evil, such as the poor emaciated child of the war-torn country.

But there are always two sides of a story, and one sounds true, until the other side is heard. This side says that the other is evil and the other says that the first is evil. How can we adjudicate which is truly evil, if evil cannot simply be a mere mental construct or preference of kind?

Perhaps, we may say that all are subject to evil and therefore no one is right. Perhaps, we are all wrong. Perhaps, we are all evil, in some way or another. And being evil, we cannot rightly adjudicate between what is evil and what is good.

Still, though we are bound by evil, we know that evil is not good, and hence, we know that the good is and might to some degree know the good in part.

But we are discussing evil and whence it comes.

The mind? The imagination? A social construct? An action? A deed?

It seems that evil is much like love: neither is a quantity and each is a quality. You cannot see either one nor can you subject either one to the microscope. But you can feel and give and make others feel them; and what you have, that’s what you can give. If you have love, you can give love and you get more love. If you have evil, you can give away evil–and you get more evil.

I’m not sure where evil exactly comes from, but I think it comes from giving it away. And if we want to eradicate evil, I think I’d better start with myself, and not give away the evil I hoard so well in my own self. Rather, I think I ought to give away the love, however little, that I host in my heart, and share it out, so that it grows and grows and grows, till there’s no more need to wonder whence cometh evil?