What if evil cannot act without permission?

We tend to picture evil as something that bursts into the world with overwhelming force—through violence, domination, or the ruthless will of others. But history, and often our own experiences, suggest something more disturbing. Darkness usually doesn’t come with loud impact. Instead, it moves quietly, with hesitation, silence, and the small internal choice to look away.

This idea sits at the core of my novel The Permission. This story examines a troubling possibility – that destructive power often depends not only on those who wield it but also on those who allow it. Institutions can give permission through compromise. Countries can give permission through indifference. Individuals may grant permission when fear, self-preservation, or fatigue leads them to believe that ‘responsibility’ belongs to someone else.

This tension is reflected in the ancient story of Job, where suffering enters the world only within the limits that God allows—a mystery that has troubled thoughtful readers for centuries. If evil sometimes operates within boundaries that God permits, then the question becomes even more personal: what role do human choices play within those limits?

The Permission examines this question through the lives of ordinary people caught in extraordinary circumstances. The characters are not heroes searching for a cause. They are navigating grief, ambition, loyalty, and fear—trying to protect what matters most to them. Yet each of them faces a moment when the price of moral clarity becomes real.

At one point in the story, a character realizes that the most important decision they will ever make might not involve any action at all. The real question is whether they will quietly go along with something they know is wrong—or refuse, knowing that refusal could cost them everything.

The novel is influenced by Christian theology, but it is not written solely for religious readers. The questions it raises are relevant to everyone who has struggled with suffering, responsibility, and courage. Why do good people hesitate? What does it mean to act rightly when the outcome is uncertain? And what kind of faith—or conviction—is needed when protection is not assured?

One assumption the story questions is the idea that faith exists mainly to protect us from harm. However, both experience and Scripture indicate something more challenging: faith might not always keep us safe from suffering, but it can call us to stay faithful through it.

In that kind of world, courage seldom looks dramatic. More often, it manifests as restraint—the quiet refusal to involve oneself in what one recognizes as wrong.

Those moments may seem small. But they are rarely insignificant.

Because history suggests something important.

Evil doesn’t always need power.
Sometimes it only needs permission.

May Jesus keep us close.

 

THE PERMISSION – available now on Amazon in paperback and eBook.