Good Friday Book Review: Crime and Punishment
Dostoevsky on the awfulness of young men and how Christianity can cure misanthropy
Teenage boys and young men often hate humanity. I certainly did. At that point in your life, you are part of the demographic that is stronger and more physically robust than any other group in society. Hormonally, your willingness to commit violence and take risks is at its peak. If you’re also intelligent or have some other reason to feel superior, the effect can be intoxicating. But you also have less money than most other adults, have yet to achieve anything, and are often put in universities, where you have unusual amounts of free time to read, think, and stew over the ways in which the world has wronged you.
I’ve previously blamed my right-wing radicalism on being a loser. But looking back, the hate was so overwhelming that I think that even had I been unusually socially adept, I still would’ve had a deep bitterness toward the world and sought to harm it. When people behaved kindly to me, I felt contempt for their weakness. When they insulted me, I was affronted. In either case, my pride was wounded. I believe that a lot of men are like this, to varying degrees. At the left end of the bell curve, they form gangs and engage in street crime. The smarter among them develop ideological preoccupations, and whether these are harmless or end up causing damage to the world depends on historical circumstances. Even the dumb ones have their own ideologies of a sort – think of how important rules and codes of honor are to the functioning of mafias and gangs.
Christianity has historically been a way to make young men somewhat less awful, and, since that won’t fly for most modern educated people, we have feminized leftism. I’ve always been amused when conservatives try to draw an intellectual and spiritual connection between modern leftists and mid-twentieth century communists. No, they’re not going to put you in death camps or gulags, you hysterical brain-rotted rightoid. They’re too contemptuous of masculine norms to do that. But “feminization has made leftists less murderous and given us less to complain about” isn’t an appealing message.
All of this is to say that young men in their default state are a menace. The rise of Fuentes, crypto scams, Tate, Clavicular, sports betting, the manosphere, and support for Trump are all part of the same phenomenon. Christianity has gotten weaker over the previous decades, and so has, over the last few years, political correctness. When not constrained by either of these worldviews, males return to their natural state: gooning degenerate crypto scammers. If you meet a young man who has got his life together and is of solid moral character, he’s usually at least semi-woke or part of a religious community. The fact that so much degeneracy happens in cyberspace today likely helps save us from any substantial increases in violence as the restraining power of civilizing ideologies declines.
Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment (1866) is essentially about the self-justifying evils of this demographic, told through a psychological portrait of a former student living in St Petersburg named Rodion Raskolnikov. Make all the excuses you want for young men. Blame society, their families, or women. In the end, granting too much explanatory power to any of these variables amounts to denying human nature.
Dostoevsky gradually strips away any such illusions you might have. Raskolnikov may be an extreme case, but his brooding hatefulness and smug moral imbecility are things that most young men need to answer for in some degree. The book also shows a path out of a prideful contempt for humanity. One hundred and sixty years after Crime and Punishment was published in monthly installments, it is still a striking read, particularly at a time when the awfulness of young men is once again prominent, largely interpreted and understood by intellectuals through the language of statistics and academic social science.
