I’ve been thinking about a lot about Dietrich Bonhoeffer of late. Bonhoeffer, a Lutheran pastor and theologian, was one of the earliest and most courageous Christian voices to resist Hitler and the genocide of the Jews. A decade before his execution, he warned that the Church must not merely “bandage the victims under the wheel,” but must “jam a spoke in the wheel itself.”
During his year and a half in Tegel Prison awaiting trial, Bonhoeffer wrote some of his most profound reflections—none more prescient than his meditation on the dangers of stupidity: “Stupidity is a more dangerous enemy of the good than malice. One may protest against evil; it can be exposed and, if need be, prevented by use of force. Evil always carries within itself the germ of its own subversion in that it leaves behind in human beings at least a sense of unease. Against stupidity we are defenseless. Neither protests nor the use of force accomplish anything here; reasons fall on deaf ears; facts that contradict one’s prejudgment simply need not be believed – in such moments the stupid person even becomes critical – and when facts are irrefutable they are just pushed aside as inconsequential, as incidental. In all this the stupid person, in contrast to the malicious one, is utterly self satisfied and, being easily irritated, becomes dangerous by going on the attack. For that reason, greater caution is called for when dealing with a stupid person than with a malicious one. Never again will we try to persuade the stupid person with reasons, for it is senseless and dangerous.”
Let’s just pause on that last line.
Bonhoeffer didn’t just warn us about totalitarianism—he warned us about the mental conditions that allow it to thrive. He reminded us that willful ignorance, smug certainty, and blind conformity are not just personal flaws; they are threats to civilization.
In difficult times like these, especially for artists, it’s worth remembering Bonhoeffer’s courage and clarity. When the wheels of stupidity are turning, we must choose carefully where we stand—and be certain we’re not turning them ourselves.
Brilliant. Thank you.