How the Criminal Justice System’s War on Evil Breeds Injustice
We invoke the word evil in moments of horror. A terrorist attack. A mass shooting. A gruesome killing. The term is meant to express not just wrongdoing, but a kind of moral extremity—something beyond comprehension, something outside the bounds of ordinary human behavior. It’s a word meant to isolate the act and the actor, to suggest that what happened was not just wrong but monstrous.
Philosophers have long debated the usefulness of the term “evil.” Some argue that it has no explanatory value—that it’s merely a label we slap on what we don’t want to understand. Others believe we need the word precisely because of its moral gravity. What else, they ask, could we use to describe the Holocaust, the Rwandan genocide, or the sadistic violence of serial killers?
Whether or not we find the concept philosophically sound, it’s clear that “evil” plays a powerful role in our collective psychology. The label helps us draw a line between “them” and “us”—between the monstrous and the human.
As Claudia Card argued in The Atrocity Paradigm, evil acts are intolerable harms committed without justification. But in the rush to contain or eliminate those harms, we may become entangled in a dangerous irony: we become monstrous ourselves in our pursuit of monsters.
Nowhere is this tension more pronounced than in the American criminal justice system.
Faced with a brutal crime, there is enormous pressure on law enforcement and prosecutors to identify, isolate, and punish the person responsible. The public wants answers. The family wants closure. Politicians want to be seen as tough. In that crucible of pressure, systems often short-circuit. Evidence is bent to fit the narrative. Suspects are coerced. Dissenting voices are silenced. And in many cases, the person ultimately convicted is not the one who committed the crime.
We see this dynamic play out in Nicholas Dawidoff’s The Other Side of Prospect, a meticulous account of how New Haven police, in the wake of a horrific murder, targeted 16-year-old Bobby Johnson, pressured him into confessing, and refused to reconsider even as contradictory evidence mounted.
To the system, Johnson looked like a plausible monster—a Black teenager from a poor neighborhood with a low IQ and little capacity to resist authority. Once he was ensnared, the machinery of justice did the rest.
The irony is as disturbing as it is clear: in seeking to protect the public from evil, the system committed its own grave injustice.
Wrongful conviction cases like Johnson’s are not rare. They are part of a pattern. The National Registry of Exonerations has documented more than 3,000 exonerations in the U.S., with common factors including false confessions, mistaken eyewitness identification, prosecutorial misconduct, and official tunnel vision. In these cases, police and prosecutors do not see themselves as doing wrong. They see themselves as soldiers in a moral crusade. And crusades, by their nature, leave little room for ambiguity or second-guessing.
In moral philosophy, this dynamic raises deep questions. Does evil require a monster? Do only certain kinds of people commit evil? Or is the need for monsters something we construct socially, psychologically—even institutionally—to make ourselves feel safer, more righteous, more in control?
The philosopher Luke Russell argues that we often need to believe in evil—and in monsters—to justify the way we treat people who do harm. If someone is merely wrong or misguided, there are limits to what we feel justified in doing.
But if someone is evil, then the gloves can come off. Torture, isolation, dehumanization—even execution—can be framed not as excess, but as necessary. The end justifies the means.
But here’s the twist: in allowing ourselves that moral latitude, we begin to replicate the very harm we claim to be fighting. In criminal justice, this takes many forms—extended solitary confinement, coerced confessions, decades-long sentences for juveniles, capital punishment.
The more we define someone as a monster, the less we feel obliged to treat them as a person. And once we cross that line, we are no longer safeguarding justice. We are enacting vengeance.
We see it too in the policy sphere.
Mandatory minimums, “three strikes” laws, and broken-windows policing were all justified as necessary to confront rising crime and stop dangerous people.
But in practice, they became blunt instruments that devastated communities, disproportionately punished people of color, and packed prisons with nonviolent offenders.
The fear of evil—and the rhetorical power of “tough on crime” politics—justified a carceral regime that was itself destructive, unjust, and, arguably, a form of institutionalized harm.
This is not a call for moral relativism. People do commit horrifying acts. Some cause irreparable damage to others. But the justice system must operate on principle, not emotion. Its power must be tempered by humility and accountability. When we allow fear and moral panic to drive policy and practice, we invite error—and those errors can destroy lives.
Bobby Johnson lost nine years of his life to a system that wanted to believe it had stopped a monster. But in doing so, it let the real perpetrator go free. It inflicted trauma on an innocent young man. It failed his family and the victim’s family. And it reinforced a broader pattern of dehumanization that continues to shape how we approach crime, punishment, and justice.
We must ask ourselves: what would a justice system look like that resisted the urge to create monsters? That recognized the complexity of harm, of motivation, of human fallibility? That prioritized restoration over retribution, prevention over punishment, truth over closure?
To get there, we must confront the darker truths about ourselves—not just the people we lock up, but the system we’ve built in the name of safety. Because when we elevate fear over reason, when we replace due process with scapegoating, and when we justify cruelty in the name of righteousness—we become what we fear.
In our effort to fight evil, we risk becoming its mirror.
“Faced with a brutal crime, there is enormous pressure on law enforcement and prosecutors to identify, isolate, and punish the person responsible. The public wants answers. The family wants closure. Politicians want to be seen as tough.”
What we “want” is to not be continuously-victimized (usually by the same people, over-and-over). Call them whatever you want.
If that’s the case, then invest in education – both outside and inside facilities.
Correlation is not cause. The type of people who pursue college are likely “different” in the first place (even inside of prison). See Scott Peterson, for example.
But I actually agree that prison is a great place to provide all kinds of opportunities for change. I’d base it on a reward system (e.g., opportunity to earn money or other benefits while also offsetting some of the cost you caused for society and victims).
Prison is a horrible place to provide all kinds of opportunities for change – but it’s what we have right now.
Opportunities already exist outside of prison. Those people did not take advantage of them, for whatever reason.
That’s why they end up in what should be an actual “correction center”.
That’s just nonsense. We have long-term data from multiple sources that show that this statement is false.
I don’t know how much evidence you want, but I have reams of it stored in my notes. For example, In 2020, when St. Louis had the highest murder rate in the U.S., not a single person who committed a murder—and not a single person who was murdered—had a high school diploma. This stark fact punctuates the deep link between educational failure and deadly violence.
Regarding St. Louis, it does indeed suck. I’ve been there, and it immediately felt dangerous.
Are you stating they don’t have high schools there?
No, I’m stating that the people committing serious crimes – there and elsewhere – are not completing their schooling. And that the people who are staying out of trouble, are. And that’s where we need to focus our efforts rather than locking humans in a cage. (It’s interesting that you completely ignored the point of my essay which had nothing to do with this).
It sounds like you’re stating that public education (in messed-up communities) suck.
What do you think of commentators (such as Charlie Kirk) stating that this is due to messed-up families (e.g., without fathers in the house)?
And why is it that immigrant families don’t experience this same level of failure?
That’s not what I’m saying … at all.
It’s true that public education in many underserved communities is failing—but not because public education is inherently flawed. The issue lies in structural disinvestment. Schools in high-poverty neighborhoods often lack the funding, experienced educators, extracurricular programs, and mental health support that more affluent districts take for granted. These conditions aren’t the fault of teachers or families but are the predictable result of long-standing segregation, redlining, and unequal school funding formulas. So when education breaks down in these communities, it’s often a symptom of broader systemic neglect.
Conservatives like Charlie Kirk often point to “fatherlessness” or “broken families” as the root of crime and underachievement. But this answer shifts attention away from the systems that cause these family disruptions in the first place—like mass incarceration, discriminatory housing policies, and a lack of living-wage jobs. The presence of a father isn’t some sort of magical cure; what matters more is whether children have access to stable, nurturing, and well-resourced environments. Many single-parent households provide that, while many two-parent households may not. The problem isn’t moral decay—it’s structural injustice.
As for immigrant families, many do face poverty and underfunded schools, but they often benefit from tight-knit social networks, strong cultural expectations around education, and less targeted policing than Black Americans. First-generation immigrants often outperform expectations—a phenomenon known as the “immigrant paradox”—but even that edge tends to fade by the second or third generation if structural barriers persist. Just look at education and income levels in most immigrant communities.
Yeah – you’re saying “don’t call them monsters”.
O.K., I won’t.
But I have seen enough poor behavior in “all of us” to somewhat agree with that thought. (That’s sort of what religion says – we’re all “sinners”. Except me, obviously.)
That’s not the point either.
Education in this country is available if someone really wants it. Unfortunately too many of these criminals chose not to go that route.
In one sense, education technically exists for everyone, but access is not the same as opportunity. Saying “education is available if you want it” assumes a level playing field that simply doesn’t exist. Also, it’s not about excusing harmful behavior—it’s about understanding what drives it. Without that, you can’t solve the problem.
I’m not sure if your detailed response above is from AI, but I believe it’s overly-simplistic and lacks underlying support.
But overall, it does seem to show that immigrants (despite starting out with even “less” advantage than those living in messed-up communities) have a different culture which encourages success (which results in them taking advantage of opportunities EVEN WHEN they live in messed-up communities at first.
And therefore don’t end up in prison in the first place.
So it seems that culture/self-sufficiency comes before success. Perhaps it’s in the nature of those making the trip – they’re more determined than lazy Americans who expect the “gov-ment” to do everything for them. (And less you think that’s racist, I know white people who have that same attitude.)
Ultimately, messed-up communities are going to have to help themselves, for the most part. No one is going to do it for them. Just look at history – the war on poverty in the 1960s, the abysmal failure of public housing, etc.
But it does seem that more (native-born citizens) are able to escape the hell-holes, than they did in the past.
I can provide lots of support if you want it. I’m trying to keep it very simple. But there is loads of data in my notes.
You already provided data (e.g., regarding a correlation between having a high school diploma and not ending up in prison).
Data is not necessarily the same thing as cause.
Data would also show an absence of fathers in messed-up households. Data would show that immigrants start out with less than anyone else. Data would show that public housing is a crime-infested hellhole. Data would show that Indian reservations are a failure.
Here’s an example based on a book by Maya Schenwar. She links crime to a lack of education by showing how incarceration disrupts families and communities in ways that undermine educational access and stability. She points out that children of incarcerated parents are more likely to go to prison than to graduate from high school, highlighting how the criminal legal system interferes with youth development. Rather than addressing the root causes of harm—like poverty, trauma, and disconnection—our society cuts off educational opportunity and replaces it with punishment, making crime more likely. Keith and you are arguing that opportunity is there if someone takes it, but ignore things like poverty and trauma. A huge percentage of people who end up in prison started out as victims of crime themselves.
This is a chicken-and-egg scenario, regarding which came first.
I forgot a couple of other examples of “data”.
Data would show that once someone becomes entrapped in public housing and welfare, they rarely leave – and the cycle continues. (And that’s an example of government “providing opportunity”.)
This is where conservatives have it “right”, so to speak. And it’s the reason that Bill Clinton adopted it.
This is really a problematic response. First of all, what came first wasn’t dependency—it was ***centuries*** of racialized exploitation: slavery, followed by Jim Crow, redlining, exclusion from New Deal benefits, mass incarceration, and the deliberate disinvestment from Black communities. When Jim Crow formally ended, there was no structural repair—no redistribution of land, wealth, or opportunity. Heck, the notion of 140 acres and a mule was thrown out at the Civil War, and then discarded. The notion of reparations is a third rail for people like you.
And as you point out, Bill Clinton, you seem to only remember 1994 and not what has happened since. His welfare reforms and crime bills he has since admitted were wrongheaded and caused real harm to the very communities he was trying to help.
David says: “The notion of reparations is a third rail for people like you.”
Regarding reparations, just about “everyone” (except white people) would “qualify” for that, in regard to “people like you”.
But one of the problems with that is that it’s not just white people who would pay for it.
But again, your conclusion regarding what happened 200 years ago isn’t a straight line into conditions today. Chinese people were taken-advantage of, as well. And yet, they’re relatively successful as a group.
Also, I’m not sure how those of Hispanic attempt went from being “colonizers” to “victims”.
Ron – I just don’t get teh feeling you have a deep grasp of this stuff and you are going all over the place. You jumped on the reparations comment which was an aside to illustrate how difficult a redress would be – you’ve definitely proven that point even though it was a very small part of what I mainly trying to say. (Nor do you seem to understand what reparations are or how they would work).
You brought up reparations, not me.
But here’s another problem I see with this concept:
In theory, shouldn’t the black family in the example below give the $20 million they received to whatever Indian (native) tribe might lay claim to this land?
https://www.npr.org/2023/01/04/1146879302/bruces-beach-la-county-california
The government illegally took land that a family owned – this isn’t an indirect claim.
I read it when it first came out; not sure that it was actually “illegal” to use eminent domain.
But that’s not my point, and I think you know that. It’s probable that some Indian/native tribe was in that area, PRIOR TO the black family’s ownership. And that they were displaced by the Spanish, Mexican, and U.S. governments – in that order.
So again I’ll ask, shouldn’t this black family turn over the $20 million that they received for land that was likely “taken from” a tribe?
The logic of reparations would dictate that it should be turned over to whatever tribe might have been in the area.
You’re making a tu quoque argument – colloquially whataboutism. That’s not admissible in a court of law. You would need someone with a direct claim who exercised their claim – “likely” is not a legal standard. You’re throwing a lot of mud here. You’re point is invalid both legally and philosophically.
You’re bringing up law, regarding reparations for incidents that happened hundreds of years ago? And you’re doing so at the same time you’re arguing for reparations for slavery?
Much of the current “land back” movement for tribes is based upon historical claims. Why wouldn’t it apply to the entire state and country? (In fact, some native people do make that argument.)
DG say: “You’re making a tu quoque argument – colloquially whataboutism. That’s not admissible in a court of law.”
I have no idea what DG just said, but it sure makes it look like he must be smarter than us.
“You’re point is invalid both legally and philosophically.”
I don’t think reparations are legal either — at least not yet. Philosophically? . . . that depends on the philosopher.
RO say: “Much of the current “land back” movement for tribes is based upon historical claims. Why wouldn’t it apply to the entire state and country? (In fact, some native people do make that argument.)
I’m empathetic to many native Issues. However, I saw a native group on the internet not long after October 7th who were siding with Hamas as the freedom fighters to take the land back from the Jews, and as inspiration that this was the beginning of the violent uprising that would also return the land back to the native people of America (or Turtle Island as they referred to it in that broadcast). First of all, some would argue the Jews are the indigenous people of Israel — that is not the point and I see that point as ‘complicated’ . . . as h*ll. While I believe much change needs to be done to the way native people are treated and the systems of assistance, I don’t picture a violent uprising and pushing all non-natives into the sea as the solution to the historical wrongs.
“What we “want” is to not be continuously-victimized (usually by the same people, over-and-over). Call them whatever you want.”
That’s just it Ron, these progressive minded justice warriors like to portray the villains as the victims.
The thing is – *we* use data and you use anecdotes and fear and emotion
“The thing is – *we* use data and you use anecdotes and fear and emotion”
Yeah okay “everything is a crisis” guy.
I see you had a strong rebuttal there. I must have missed it unfortunately.
I think you got the point…
I don’t think it’s the point you wanted me to get.
KO, I don’t think DG is wired to get your point.
“in seeking to protect the public from evil, the system committed its own grave injustice.”
We should seek to protect the public from ‘evil’, or ‘crime’ or whatever you want to call it. I note a commenter didn’t even hesitate to call Trump ‘evil’, so the ‘eviling’ is ‘both sides’, it appears.
And you see, I agree with you that the system should be reformed. BUT, I’d never join you or people like you to do so, any more than I’d align with Beth Bourne on trans issues. Y’all go way too far when you start talking about defunding the police, decarceration, and personally insult District 3 living/working Davisites by gaslighting us about our experiences with the so-called ‘homeless’ and crime.
The US is currently the world’s champion at putting people in cages. With 5% of the world’s population, the US has 25% of its prisoners. That’s five times the world’s per-capita incarceration average–seven times more than Canada or France. Yet Canada and France, with one-seventh the prisoners of the US both have lower crime rates. How do they manage that?
One difference is that the US has more than a half million medical bankruptcies annually. France and Canada have “Medicare-for-all” single payer health systems that are both better at providing healthcare outcomes (life expectancy, infant mortality, etc.), are about half as expensive, and have no medical bankruptcies. Sure, making a half million people financially desperate may simply correlate with more crime, but it’s suspiciously close to causality. There’s a significant systemic element to crime, not just bad individuals.
Incidentally, the FBI reports “blue-collar” crime (burglaries, muggings, etc.) costs the US $12 billion annually. According to the FBI, “white-collar” crime costs nearly $1 trillion. Wage theft is reported ~$50 billion.
Guess who goes to jail? The Global Financial Crisis (GFC, the subprime/derivatives meltdown) created 8 – 10 million foreclosures on bad loans. According to its own audit, the Federal Reserve extended $19 – $26 trillion in credit to cure the frauds of Wall Street, and thanks to the Obama administration’s supine response, none of the big criminals went to jail. Instead, they were fined dimes on the dollar of their loot, without the admission of guilt that would make civil cases easier to prosecute.
Meanwhile, prison is extremely expensive. It costs roughly seven times more than medical treatment for addiction, and has worse outcomes than such treatment. In fact treating people better is demonstrably better than “the beatings must continue until morale improves”…the current US crime prevention philosophy. (see https://phys.org/news/2022-06-welfare-crime.html)
The faith that cops, courts and cages will address crime in the best way is misplaced. The evidence is overwhelming that brutalizing populations is both expensive and ineffective. Nevertheless, that old French saying still applies: “The law, in its magnificent equality, prohibits rich and poor alike from sleeping under bridges, begging in the street, and stealing bread.”