The latest batch of the “Epstein files” has shocked society everywhere they became known, not just for their literal content. The thing is, this literal meaning is practically saturated with contempt for human and divine laws. In other words, a negation of universal moral norms, which in one form or another are present in practically all religions, moral and political systems, enshrined in criminal codes, and so on. The prohibitions and prescriptions are unequivocal – it is not allowed. Essentially. You cannot rape children, you cannot harm the weak, you cannot abuse animals, you cannot traffic people. The list goes on.
Ultimately, even without religious prohibitions and legal prescriptions, any normal person with an adequate moral sense feels revolted by such things. Even the thought that something like this exists in the world is distressing – and unfortunately, it did and does exist. It’s no coincidence these matters have become universal cultural taboos and religious prohibitions, as they directly lead to the ruin of the meaning of existence and quickly dismantle any social structure.
This is precisely what is frightening – the sight of a complete dark moral and meaningful abyss standing behind them. A similar feeling arises when looking at photographs from Auschwitz or another “death camp” or when listening to or watching news, for instance, from Bucha in March 2022 or from Israel on October 7, 2023. Although, it would seem the essence of the crimes and their roots are different. Crimes like those committed by Epstein and his company are usually explained by a “volatile mix” of power, money, and actual impunity, combined with the desire to feel superior to others. Especially if a person has been in power for a long time or generally comes from a privileged family or environment. Especially if they or their environment are generally not inclined to be concerned with anything besides their own goals and pleasures. Moreover, it often happens that a focus on business or power completely marginalizes the minimal humanitarian basis – assuming it was present in the specific case. And most, if not all, of these reasons were mentioned in discussions on social networks.
As for the other mentioned crimes, there seem to be no particular questions about their roots either. It has long been a truism to state that the dominant role in motivating Russian war criminals was played by the phantom pains of the empire combined with the specific culture of the Russian army and Russia’s own “outback” with its cult of strength, toxic masculinity, hierarchical structure, and an endless sea of frustration due to chronic humiliation and lack of social mobility. The crimes of totalitarianism are rooted in a mix of national intolerance, culture of violence, imperialism, those same phantom pains of previous iterations of empires, and a number of other factors.
If you step down a few levels from “great crimes” to “ordinary life,” you will encounter numerous cases of domestic violence, hate crimes against women and members of ethnic and sexual minorities, and bullying of the weaker. And all this is carried out by individuals who are fully capable of understanding what they are doing and are not psychiatric patients.
In all such cases, we are gripped by a deep horror that makes us want to cry out to God—something akin to the Polish: “Boże, widzisz i nie grzmisz?” (God, you see and do not strike them with thunder? – my translation. O. I.). The very constancy of this feeling makes one suspect that all these crimes, despite obvious differences, are so apparent that it raises the question of whether attempting to equate them is, to some extent, disrespectful to the victims of the largest and most tragic among them. Although comparing crimes and the extent of suffering is morally problematic, if you think about it, several common features are still present.
First and foremost, such crimes have no rational sense. They are not committed to gain wealth, conceal something, or anything of the sort. This cannot even be explained in terms of a sudden burst of animal instinct in a person (“couldn’t resist”)—no biological species has ever consciously tried to destroy another simply because it exists, nor has it practiced mass rape of the young.
The second characteristic feature is the enormous role of power in such crimes, which manifests in two aspects. First, committing such crimes is impossible without power, and when it comes to victims, the power is almost total and limitless. Epstein and those like him effectively imprisoned their victims—where could they escape from an island? The organizers of Auschwitz or the GULAG camps completely deprived their prisoners of anything related to independently determining their fate, turning them into a defenseless mass focused on survival. As for domestic violence, those familiar with the subject are well aware of the criminals’ ability to isolate the victim even from their relatives and friends. This omnipresent power is the second aspect of the matter, because the essence of the crime itself is, among other things, the emanation of this very limitless power. The crime itself (whatever it may be—rape, brutal murder, the extermination of an entire nation) is just a way to say “I am powerful to do this, and no one will stop me.” It is essentially about demonstrative dominance, with a challenge—“I want this, and what can anyone do about it.” The combination of violence and the trampling of universal cultural and religious taboos (poetically speaking, “human and divine laws”) is essentially a way of implementing power. Therefore, those who claim that in such situations, symbolic power and subjugation relationships are of fundamental importance are correct.
The third characteristic of such crimes is the presence, as a side effect, of complex moral dilemmas akin to “the trolley problem.” In the case of Epstein and the like, it turns out that the elites (those who should be exemplary—and this is also a universal cultural pattern) are the ones to be wary of. Or in the case of domestic violence—people who should be a support and protection turn out to be a source of mortal danger. In the case of a totalitarian regime—the power that should be the product of a social contract or tradition turns into a monster that acts according to completely incomprehensible rules and is a constant threat.
Finally, as mentioned at the beginning, all such crimes have an element of what could be called “interference with divine prerogatives,” or more specifically, an attempt at a fundamental intervention or breaking of universal patterns expressed simultaneously in cultural taboos, religious prohibitions, and legal prescriptions (mainly in the section on particularly serious crimes).
Where do the roots of such specificity lie? More specifically, if criminals of this type are so obsessed with power that they are willing to invade a sphere where human authority is either fundamentally limited (such as the body of another person) or nonexistent (such as issues of life and death of individuals or entire nations), it is logical to assume that it is precisely power that they lack.
The last aspect, along with the complete absence of a rational component and the fact that power here is essentially exercised not even for the power itself, but for a sense of omnipotence and impunity, suggests that it is related to a sense of capability. And since this involves trampling human and divine laws, committing a radical cultural transgression, it is logical to assume that it relates to the feeling of human limitation concerning what in various intellectual and cultural traditions is called the “hand of God,” “chance,” “law of nature,” and so on. Matters existential, such as life and death.
In life, there is one simple and terrifying truth in its simplicity—we truly do not know what awaits us beyond the threshold. We do not know the consequences of breaking cultural taboos there, beyond the threshold. We do not know what awaits us after death; even for a believer, there are at least three options—hell, heaven, and purgatory, or its equivalent in a specific religious tradition. In religions where there is the concept of reincarnation, there are too many options for reincarnation—probably as many as there are types of living and non-living entities. Atheists and adherents of strict rationalism will propose the “died and that’s it” option, limited to analyzing physical, chemical, and biological processes. But even in this case, the question arises—where do we place what does not fit into a strictly materialistic framework?
In any case, we are faced with a picture of a fundamental boundary that cannot be seen beyond, after crossing which nothing can be changed, and about the rules “after crossing,” nothing specific is truly known. Meanwhile, these rules determine the fate of a person, or rather their consciousness, practically for eternity. On the other hand, we all also know well, though we usually poorly realize, the fact that we were born in more or less favorable circumstances—a pure chance. And we certainly weren’t the ones dealing the cards in this game.
Thus, each of us exists in a state of chronic existential uncertainty and a background fear regarding our own prospects. We do not know what awaits us—but we perfectly know that we fundamentally have no chance to influence the course of events in matters of being or non-being. And some cannot withstand this pressure. Some—due to their own wealth and opportunities (how can there be something beyond my control with all my possibilities). And some, paradoxically, due to the lack of these opportunities, which in the imagination further enhances the weight of the existential and provokes a loss of faith in the possibility of a good outcome overall.
In such a situation, there are three main ways to relieve tension.
The first is meticulous adherence to formal prescriptions, whether religious or ideological. In practice, this results in political radicalism or religious fanaticism.
The second option is to try to change the rules of the game. For example, to change human nature so it’s easier to “pass through the eye of the needle.” This path usually leads to totalitarianism and totalitarian sects. The foundation of any totalitarian system is the idea of bad human nature that needs to be remade, fundamentally reforming the whole system of social connections and interactions along the way – only then will the kingdom of universal prosperity come. In an existential sense – a time when existential fear of death and what lies beyond will disappear.
There is also a third path, the most terrifying in its manifestations and consequences – this is, figuratively speaking, to overturn the chessboard. That is, demonstratively and consistently, with full awareness of what you are doing, to trample on human and divine law. To commit violence against the weak. To defame and kill children. To kill entire nations. To starve people. To burn them alive. And so on.
And it is these last two paths that criminals of transgression most often choose. I think it’s appropriate to call them this because their crimes involve transgressing all possible moral, ethical, religious, and legal norms. Truly human and divine laws.
The goal of the crime of transgression is not so much in the violence itself. The satisfaction from violence and others’ pain by itself is from the realm of sadism, a well-known thing. But transgression is about the possibility of feeling above the law, rights, morality, and not being punished. Essentially, to place oneself above humanity. And the tool for this can be anything. Including violence against a woman or child, as on Epstein’s island. And the murder of entire nations. And the next project of thoroughly remaking humanity and the world – only this time in the guise of “technofascism,” in which some visitors of the infamous island were involved.
There is an opinion that elites are more inclined towards this. On the other hand, possibly, we are dealing with aberration. Elites are more visible, they are watched – ultimately, a shock factor is the principle “to whom much is given, much will be required.”
However, in their case, there are two aspects that make them truly more vulnerable. Firstly, an interesting paradox, the essence of which is that a vast number of worldly opportunities makes the encounter with the existential extremely painful – that is, what truly decides life and death, even more – being and non-being. It’s very painful to realize that all your money, power, opportunities will not save you from aging, illness, death – and, most painfully, in this one thing you are equated with someone who cannot even dream of all your opportunities.
And the other – all possibilities and the associated status sooner or later alienate you from the majority. Not in the sense of “incompatible company,” but in the sense of the finiteness of human possibilities. If practically all worldly opportunities are available, sooner or later the temptation arises to rise to a “superhuman” level. A familiar image of something similar is the claims of monarchs of various eras to god-likeness, including ideas of direct divinity. In more cultured and less demonstrative form, this remains in epics about heroes sent by gods. But this is not the only way to realize this. A person may also desire to challenge God and people by trampling basic moral laws, resulting in something similar to Caligula or Caracalla and other synonyms of the vices of imperial Rome. And thus also drown out the pain and fear of the inevitability of confrontation with death and other universal things – from the series “before God, we are all equal” or, according to Skovoroda, “I know that death – like a sweeping scythe, Will spare not even the tsar.”
And the more you concentrate earthly possibilities around yourself, the closer you hit the boundary of the existential. Furthermore, sooner or later, old age comes, followed by the vision of death – and you begin to understand that no matter how powerful you were in this world, none of it matters in the eyes of the Supreme Judge. This is why the Last Judgment is called “the Terrible,” although it should be the Last – in catechism, matters related to death and postmortem existence are called “last things.” But it is terrifying for a person to face their own transience, the fundamental limitations of their efforts before the face of Eternity. And many break down. Attempts begin to regain youth – from Solomon with his harem of young girls to rumors about attempts by Putin and Xi to somehow extend their lives with modern medicine. This is the best-case scenario – in the worst, we encounter the crime of transgression as a rebellion against the inevitable. Like a cry, “If I’m sinful, then punish me!” or “Well, I’ll break Your rules – and what will happen to me?”
An argument supporting the above can be found in two points that often occur in the case of perpetrators. Many of them displayed colossal cowardice at clear hints of violent resistance or had experiences of violence in their past that they could not resist – for example, they themselves were victims of violence in childhood. Both matters are about the impossibility of resisting, about a sense of powerlessness on an existential level. Such an experience could entirely engender a suppressed passionate desire to challenge the world that allowed it.
The second aspect – it is not my observation that perpetrators of transgressions are often cowardly. They hide their crimes, cite various insurmountable, in their view, circumstances, and so on. Of course, no one wants to bear responsibility for such grave crimes. But it’s not only this. The vision of punishment serves as a signal for them that the “test” of the validity of divine and human laws has confirmed this validity – and now something no less terrible will happen to them than what they have done. Therefore, punishing such crimes is not just punishment for the perpetrator. It is essentially the restoration of order in the sense of mutually logical causal relationships.
However, it’s not just the elites. Crimes wild by nature, shocking in their disregard for all possible human and divine laws by individuals who are not psychiatric patients occur in all spheres of society. We regularly see them in the crime reports. In cases of rape, brutal murders, torment of children and animals (that is, everything that involves an open violation of cultural taboos by people who are capable of understanding the meaning of their actions and controlling their behavior) – everywhere there will be this challenge. Ultimately, among the executors of genocides throughout history, there have been enough who committed evil ideologically, aware that they were doing something morally wrong, regardless of the ideas justifying it. SS officers in Nazi concentration camps or NKVD members in the Gulag, rank and file inquisitors, various types of Red Guards or Basij, and similar groups.
Likely, the trigger that activates the desire to challenge existentially is the feeling of “I want, but I can’t.” There can be various refining versions: instead of “want,” “need, have the right,” and so on. “Can” can be both physical and cultural.
And such logic can be genuine, based on experience aligned with objective realities, or it can be illusory. The illusory type is what we observe in a recurring case, not the first in human history. This is, in fact, the illusion of one’s own uniqueness and power, which leads to a false sense of special rights. It’s the logic of a man who believes women owe him service because he is a man, like all rapists and their “brothers in mind.” It’s the logic of a person with power and wealth who believes they are allowed more than those who lack it—like participants in orgies on the island and beyond, where numerous legal violations by local elites already signal emerging problems. It’s the logic of a politician or public figure who believes they’ve discovered the path to humanity’s future development—so indisputable and destined to bring great happiness that individual human lives can be sacrificed. But they cannot. Humanity spent the entire 20th century learning this lesson. Ultimately, it’s also about a scientist who believes their discovery or scientific goal is so perfect that it requires no verification, thus sacrificing people for its testing or implementation—recalling stories with thalidomide or lobotomy, as well as human experiments in Auschwitz, Dachau, or Ravensbrück.
In such situations, true logic appears more paradoxical. Here, we encounter entirely different archetypes. For example, a terminally ill person may rebel against their fate of impending death. A community denied human rights for generations solely because of skin color, language, or tradition might unexpectedly collectively rage—following logic articulated by Lina Kostenko: “Who gave you the right to take away from a people their great pride and songs?” In both these—and not only these—we have a situation where circumstances or people objectively deprive opportunities from an individual, according to human and divine laws, which are universal cultural norms.
And here lies an interesting, if not paradoxical, effect often remaining deeply shadowed—when objectively unfortunate people or communities, who should be pitied, commit wild acts. For example, the terminally ill may try to infect the healthy. Or members of a subjugated community may sadistically execute members of the dominant community. Human history is full of such examples—from wars in medieval Europe through ethnic conflicts to episodes in numerous colonial uprisings. Such stories were abundantly spread by colonizers, conveniently forgetting that they themselves initially blocked paths to, at the very least, social advancement solely based on these people’s origins. Moreover, by devaluing them and their cultures, they gradually accumulated frustration, transforming into hatred. Because a person cannot change another person, let alone an entire nation.
In this context, the educational system takes on existential significance. In the case of the nobility, with all its heightened demands and the image of the ideal knight. At the same time, there is the threat of being excluded from their class. A broken sword above the head, renunciation of the family, torn epaulettes, and the like—a series of rituals were invented to keep those with enormous capabilities from breaking when comparing their earthly power to God’s transcendent one. In essence, what the British royal family is doing in the case of Prince Andrew is the same “renunciation of the family.” One can (and perhaps should) debate whether it was timely and sincere, but in essence, it is the same.
In the case of the “lesser ones,” the role described was fulfilled by a part of culture, such as stories about curses—in other words, a layer of legends and parables in which breaking basic universal cultural prohibitions led to punishment: the perpetrator either turned to stone on the spot, died in agony, or something else. Of course, this was not a panacea and did not always help. After all, no one canceled out psychopathy or sociopathy—characteristics of personality that don’t imply psychiatric treatment, where carriers are entirely capable of understanding morality and realizing the meaning of their actions but are truly unable to act by the laws of basic morality.
But if at least such a prohibition is not set, over time, an anthropological catastrophe will occur—a state where any social interaction becomes impossible, and the planning horizon disappears as a given.
Noteworthy here is the presence of Russia in the form of its special services. Remarkably, as soon as something particularly horrifying appears in the context of trampling on human and divine law, Russia will inevitably appear either as an instigator, a tempter, or a direct constructor. This warrants a reminder that what is happening with Russian society has long been labeled an anthropological catastrophe. In other words, it’s a complete collapse of society as such, a space where human and divine laws essentially do not apply, and everything is governed only by violence and basic instincts. And Russia essentially exports this—because there is nothing else it can truly offer.
In this context, it becomes especially significant that some Internet users describe their impressions with words that strongly resemble a state of deep, almost traumatic shock, which also manifests through physical symptoms. It is not surprising since what they saw, despite the apparent gender dimension, is essentially the abyss of demonstrative trampling of all human and divine rights, the breaking of universal cultural codes by people who cannot be called insane, and who belong to the elite. Beyond this lies only complete moral emptiness, the absence of any rules, among which “the law of the fist” is not the worst that can be, as it is at least some kind of law. And no one did anything about it. And specifically, you here and now are also powerless to do anything. An ideal traumatizing situation of helplessness in the face of violence and lawlessness at the same time. Raping minors and other cruel acts are only tools, specific manifestations.
Oksana Zabuzhko used the word “corruption” in this context. I would suggest that this corruption is only the lower level. And even lower, where Russia’s true goal lies in such a special operation, is complete demoralization, meaning the destruction of even hope that someday order will prevail in the sense of ensuring adherence to universal cultural taboos simply on the basis of understanding that there is no other way.
Thus, the demoralization of societies by the mere possibility of the Epstein files being opened is the main goal of Russia. And the close to traumatic reaction of part of society is a sign that it has somewhat succeeded. Paradoxically, Russian culture has precisely captured the genesis of the crime of transgression — I’m speaking about the image of Raskolnikov. This is also a crime of transgression — the murder of the old woman with the distinct motivation “Am I a trembling creature or do I have the right?” On the other hand, a product of modern Russia is the figure of the frontman of the group “Aria,” who sings:
I am free from love,
From enmity and from rumor,
From a foretold fate
And from earthly shackles,
From evil and from good…
What begins as experiencing a love drama suspiciously quickly evolves into something very similar to an existential challenge — because one can only be free from “evil and good” if one is not truly human. So, who then? In the context of everything written above, there is a terrifying answer to this — a representative of a community and society so deformed in terms of social structures and norms that the only way to somehow compensate is through an existential challenge in the form of trampling human and divine laws and tempting others with this.
