The Knife Without a Soul: A Reflection on the Banality of Evil

In a world racing forward with innovation, the question no one seems to ask anymore is: Why?

We are building, coding, calculating, engineering. But for what? Toward what end?

Hannah Arendt, observing the trial of Adolf Eichmann, gave us a chilling phrase— “the banality of evil.”
It wasn’t grand hatred or monstrous rage that defined Eichmann—it was the absence of thought.
He simply did his job. Followed orders.
Filed the papers. 

He “built” the trains—not with steel or bolts, but with schedules. He filled them, not with goods, but with lives. And he made sure they ran—on time, to death.

And millions died.

This evil wasn’t dramatic—it was dutiful, polished, and efficient.
The horror was not in the rage, but in the calm, unquestioning obedience of a man who never paused to ask:

“What am I serving?”

And this isn’t just history. It’s today. Right now.

A gifted engineer may design a gas chamber.
A bright student might write surveillance algorithms that violate freedom.
An economist may draft policies that crush the poor in the name of GDP.
All with degrees. All with honors.
None with wisdom.

Take Joseph, my biblical hero. He interpreted Pharaoh’s dreams, stored grain, saved Egypt from famine.
But in doing so, he also centralized power, bought up land, and reduced an entire people into servants of the crown (Genesis 47:13–21).
His intentions were good.
But the long-term effects? Devastating.

Even good people can unknowingly build the scaffolding for oppression.

This is the danger:
We mistake skill for virtue.
We applaud efficiency, but neglect ethics.
We gain the whole world—and lose our soul.

Education without a moral compass is a knife in the hands of a child.
Knowledge must bow before conscience.

We must reawaken the ancient question:
“What is the good?”
Why do I learn what I learn?
Who does it serve?
And is the world made more just because of it?

Let us not be brilliant and blind.
Let us be wise. Let us be watchful.
Let us be willing to ask hard questions of ourselves before history does it for us.

“He has told you, O mortal, what is good: to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.”
— Micah 6:8 (NRSV)