No escape from evil

From a jagged hilltop in Torres del Paine National Park in Chile, a group of hikers was marveling at the white tongue of a glacier descending through a valley to a vast blue lake. I asked our guide, a young Chilean woman from the capital city of Santiago, what it was like to live in this paradise near the tip of South America, and whether she kept up with news from the outside world. "No, I stopped paying attention," she said with a laugh. "I don't even go back to Santiago much anymore." I said I couldn't blame her. While recently vacationing in a yurt in Patagonia, my wife, Karla, and I couldn't help but think about how nice it would be to escape the anger, violence, and madness of the "civilized" world. That fantasy, it seems, is widely shared. Exhausted and heartsick, many people are tuning out the grim news about politics, Gaza, Ukraine, and climate change, and musing with friends about where to flee.

Here's the problem with tuning out or running away, as tempting as flight might be. Demagogues, dictators, and sociopaths are relentless in their pursuit of self-serving ends, and succeed when they wear down the resistance of principled people. When evil men triumph, escape is only temporary. While we were in Patagonia, we heard two sharp cracking sounds from the glaciers — warning signs of the ancient ice's dramatic retreat amid warming temperatures. Do nothing but admire the scenery, and one day the glaciers — and so much else — will be gone. The same is true for democracy and decency. We can succumb to doomerism and let the bastards win, or stand and fight for what matters, and for the world we leave our children and grandchildren. In the gloomiest depths of World War II, as Hitler's war machine rolled over Europe, Winston Churchill had this inspiring rejoinder to despair: "Whatever the cost may be, we shall fight. We shall never surrender." P.S.: The Nazis lost.

This is the editor's letter in the current issue of The Week magazine.