“How
monotonously alike all the great tyrants and conquerors have been; how
gloriously different are the saints.”
C.S. Lewis
That insightful observation from C.S. Lewis came to my mind about halfway through watching Chaos: The Manson Murders on Netflix. I’ve also seen several of Manson’s prison interviews on YouTube, and thought the same thing each time – behind the curtain of his dreadful legacy, as an individual, this guy wreaks of monotony. Manson’s name is synonymous with manipulation, violence, and the horrifying murders carried out by his so-called "family” of easily brainwashed cult members. Yet, despite the seemingly endless fascination with Manson, especially in the media and pop culture, there's a striking truth when you actually listen to him speak. Despite his bombastic delivery, and obvious twisted narcissism and absurd self-delusions, he is almost entirely devoid of anything remotely smart, insightful or interesting to say (as are, unsurprisingly, the individuals who made up his cult).
I’m saying this about Manson because it’s generally a good insight about similar figures like him. Behind the mask, we find a very insipid character, whose power wasn’t derived from any remarkable intelligence or charm, but from a carefully cultivated aura of mystery and control over very pliable followers. His speech is often disjointed, filled with rambling, incoherent phrases that sound more like a string of non sequiturs than any profound wisdom. Any philosophies or insights he claims to have are really a sad and pathetic mix of paranoid delusions, racial conspiracies, and half-baked ideas about societal upheaval.
Sure, we are talking about one of the most notorious events in 20th Century America. But absurdly, very interesting events like this do not mean that Manson himself is a very interesting person with interesting things to say. When stripped of the myth and spectacle, he was little more than a manipulative man who used fear, confusion, and his faux-charisma to exploit vulnerable individuals. Behind all that, his nature is that of a dull, self-absorbed man whose ideas were far from revolutionary, and his supposed “charisma” was more about creating an illusion that is only likely to be persuasive to disillusioned, insecure, easily manipulated young people who are even less interesting than Manson.
When you watch Manson carefully, and look closely at his demeanour and facial expressions during interviews, you are observing a man who, in my view, knows full well how unenlightened he is, especially when he’s in the presence of smart, competent interviews. This is a man who knows his own façade – painfully aware that he is not a visionary leader.
In the end, the real irony is that truly bad people - the ones who inspire fear, revulsion, or even fascination - are often the most mundane. Their evil isn’t the result of genius or depth, but of repetition, pettiness, and an inability to create anything of real value, relying on deception rather than originality. Meanwhile, good people - those who create, inspire, and uplift - are usually the ones who live the most interesting lives and have the most interesting things to say. They challenge the world, push boundaries in meaningful ways, and leave behind legacies that enrich rather than destroy. On this, just as on most things, C.S. Lewis was right; the most profound stories don’t belong to the tyrants and the ignoble manipulators; they belong to those who found the courage to be good – those who dared to build instead of tear down.
