"The more-enduring confusion of working with perpetrators. . . wasn't personal. It was conceptual. My interviews raised questions I couldn't answer. I left the tapes untouched in a file cabinet for more than a year because I couldn't resolve the paradoxes. By representing atrocity, are we giving voice, and therefore respect, to the victims who have been silenced? Or are we sensationalizing the private stories of those who have already been violated? When we take evil that is beyond understanding and put it into words, are we bringing healing clarity to the raw confusion of trauma? Or are we falsely packaging and simplifying something that ought never to be reduced, translating inexpressible evil into something common just for the sake of sharing a story?
'Evil' can be a sloppy word, an impediment to understanding. It means 'bad' plus 'unidentified metaphysical stuff.' Saying something is evil is often a way of ending a conversation, stopping further analysis, letting ourselves be satisfied with thought-dulling mystery. 'Evil' can also be a dangerous word. To say something is evil is to say it can't be understood; it can only be hated. We use the word 'evil' when we need to prepare ourselves to do violence. Evil is the ultimate 'other.'
But to talk about these men, I need a word that insists there are acts that exceed our normal categories of wrong. I need a word that insists that, no matter how long you stare at it, no matter what light you put it in, there will always remain something beyond what you are able to see or say. These were evil men."
— James Dawes, Understanding Evil
