‘To the objection that evil men do have power, I would say that this power of theirs comes from weakness rather than strength. For they would not have the power to do the evil they can if they could have retained the power of doing good. This power only makes it more clear that they can do nothing, for if, as we concluded a short time ago, evil is nothing, it is clear that since they can only do evil, the wicked can do nothing.’

The argument (which requires a heaven, at least in the simplistic way that Boethius puts it) that only “good” can accrue true power while the “bad” is always less powerful is a justification for christian imperialism and, in the last few centuries, white supremacy. For after all, if christian empires hold so much power, then by this logic they are unquestionably good. Boethius is awaiting death as he writes this, and it seems like in the absence of clemency he decided to rail against not the perceived injustice of his sentence but his own grief reaction to his impending execution. This is the stranglehold of christianity: have the individual renounce their own experience of the world in favor of the crushing status quo. This isn’t to say that an individual worldview is always complete, but rather that individualization offers a better chance of critically interrogating reality and developing personal meaning than when the christian god is offered as the only and final solution to all philosophical arithmetic.

It should go without saying, but because Boethius takes for granted that “good” and “evil” are universal concepts he is laying the groundwork for (or at least continuing the tradition of) imperial exploitation of indigenous populations around the world. He goes so far as to argue that the wicked are not “real” in the same way that other humans are. This reminds me of Lewis’ equally flaccid argument (in Mere Christianity) that good is the true nature of humanity because while good can be done and enjoyed for its own sake, evil is only ever done in pursuit of some good outcome (pleasure, power, etc.). This smacks of Maslow. As though humans aren’t experiential beings capable of enjoying or hating anything. We have a sublime (and inherently philosophical) desire for encounters and experiences that would challenge even the capacity of a master reductionist like Lewis or Boethius to categorize them as good or bad. Free all the deviants. Give all the land back.

This little tract is a great example of the blind alleys that you’re led into when you refuse from the start to question normative morality. Even if you give Boethius the benefit of the doubt and assume that his terminology is descriptive, the logic underlying his points is extremely poor throughout. There is no “problem of evil” that makes justifying god’s omnipotence difficult; there is no god. Start from there and work outwards/inwards. I expect that Boethius died unconsoled.