Introduction
When the Scottish philosopher David Hume questioned the coexistence of an omnipotent, omnibenevolent, and omniscient God with evil, he articulated a dilemma that had and would continue to preoccupy the minds of philosophers (Hume, 1779/2009). Thinkers have long questioned not only the existence of evil but also its metaphysical status in relation to goodness, often distinguishing between categories such as natural and moral evil, and positioning them as antithetical to God’s promotion of good. This dilemma originated with the advent of religion, which in turn, fueled the debate by providing these thinkers and devotees an established moral code. While Hume and his peers conceptualized this contradiction through a Christian framework, other religious perspectives further universalize the relevance of this dilemma in pursuit of a morally good life.
This paper will begin by exploring various philosophical conceptions of God in order to provide a foundation for understanding how the divine has been characterized. It will then examine the tension between the existence of evil and the attributes traditionally assigned to God. From there, Saint Augustine’s proposed solution to this dilemma, known as the theory of the privation of good, will be introduced. This will be followed by a discussion of free will and its implications for moral responsibility in the face of evil. Finally, the paper will address the limitations of Augustine’s theory and present a range of alternative philosophical ideas and religious doctrine that challenge or reframe the relationship between God and evil. It is argued that while Augustine’s privation theory offers a rigorous framework for reconciling God and evil, it ultimately fails to account for the lived experience of suffering, requiring more grounded alternatives.
Exploration of Good & God
Before turning to Augustine’s solution, it is essential to understand his intellectual background and how his life experiences shaped his views. Saint Augustine of Hippo (354–430 CE) was a North African philosopher and theologian whose work helped define Christian doctrine and Western thought. Born in Thagaste, which is in modern-day Algeria, Augustine was ethnically Berber and culturally Roman. Though his mother was a devout Christian, Augustine did not embrace the faith in his youth. Later, however, he spent years adhering to Manichaeism, a dualistic faith with Persian origins. Similarly, he delved into Neoplatonism, a philosophy that describes all of reality as flowing from an indescribable, supreme One. Augustine converted to Christianity shortly after his exploration of these religions; notably, they eventually developed into forms of Christianity too. As bishop of Hippo, Augustine developed influential ideas about sin, free will, and the nature of evil (Tornau, 2019).
Foundationally, Augustine’s exploration of Neoplatonism was highly influential in his ultimate views surrounding goodness and God. Neoplatonism, deriving from Platonism—the philosophical tradition that emerged from the teachings of Plato—is characterized by a focus on the existence of abstract entities and the belief in a higher reality beyond the physical world. It is a pluralistic approach that posits a hierarchical structure of reality, with a single origin of being, goodness, and beauty, referred to as “the One” or “the Good.” In Neoplatonism, the journey of the soul is centered around returning to and realizing divine goodness (Kukkonen & Remes, 2016). This perspective offers broad appeal by allowing for the coexistence of philosophical and religious ideas and supports Augustine’s belief that God is the ultimate source of all goodness and that the soul’s highest purpose is to seek and unite with this divine reality.
Augustine’s understanding of Manichaeism was similarly instrumental in his arguments surrounding goodness and God. In this dualistic religion, Mani, who was born into an Iranian family and spent part of his early life in South Mesopotamia, emphasizes the struggle between a metaphorical light and darkness. In Manichaeism, goodness is associated with the realm of light, which is considered the domain of the Father of Greatness and the gods of light. Conversely, the material world, associated with Ahriman (the king of darkness), is viewed as evil. This perspective indicates that goodness is inherently linked to the spiritual realm, while the material world is seen as flawed and corrupt. Similar to Neoplatonic thought, Mani’s teachings suggest that all human beings have the potential to return to their divine origin, which is rooted in the principle of light. The ultimate goal is to achieve gnosis (knowledge) and participate in the salvation process, culminating in the separation of light and darkness at the end of time (Hutter, 1993). Augustine reinterpreted the concept of light as a metaphor for God’s absolute goodness, which exists independently of and without opposition from any equal force of evil. When Augustine adopted Christianity, he distanced himself from other views within Neoplatonism and Manichaeism but maintained their assertions surrounding God and good, ultimately aligning himself with a traditional definition of God who was all-powerful (omnipotent), all-knowing (omniscient), and all-good (omnibenevolent) (Augustine, 1955).
Brian Davies, a contemporary Thomist philosopher, echoes Augustine’s conviction that all goodness originates in God, but frames it in the Thomistic doctrine of divine simplicity, which is a philosophical system that blends Christian theology with Aristotelian philosophy. For Davies, God is “omnipotent, omniscient, perfectly good, perfectly actual,” and the very act of existence in God is identical with perfect goodness (Sassi, 2008). This supports Augustine’s argument, rejecting the idea of goodness as merely one quality among God’s many other attributes, including omniscience and omnipotence, while instead grounding all moral and metaphysical order in God’s singular goodness.
Beyond the arguments of philosophers and theologians such as Augustine and Davies, laypeople following Christianity sense that they have a duty to be morally good in their actions. This finds its foundation in Scripture, where the imperative to pursue goodness is rooted in the nature and character of God Himself. Within Christian ethics, the highest moral duties are to love God wholeheartedly and to love one’s neighbor as oneself—a commandment that serves as the basis for all moral action. Christians endeavor to glorify God “in everything that is said, done, thought, and felt,” demonstrating that goodness is not merely a human construct but a reflection of the divine will and presence in daily life (West, 2022). The biblical Golden Rule explained in Matthew 7:12—“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”—encapsulates this call to goodness, often presented as a summary of moral law and prophetic teaching (The Holy Bible, 2017). Through such commands, believers are encouraged to embody God’s goodness in tangible acts of love, integrity, and service, aligning themselves with the goodness of God, reflected in word, deed, and being.
Therefore, Augustine’s experiences, the ideas he engaged with, and the moral vision of Christianity create a single picture: goodness is not something outside of God but part of who God is. For Augustine, seeking goodness is the same as seeking God, and living a good life means sharing in God’s nature. In this way, thought, belief, and daily action are all tied to the same source—God’s perfect goodness.
Exploration of Evil
At the heart of Augustine’s thought lies a pressing question: if God is truly omnipotent, omniscient, and omnibenevolent, how can evil exist in the world? This question tormented Augustine personally and intellectually. In Confessions, he describes his youthful dissatisfaction with simplistic answers explored through Manichaean dualism and Neoplatonism. For Augustine, the dilemma was unavoidable: to affirm God’s nature was to confront the reality of human suffering, injustice, and sin (Augustine, 400).
A pivotal moment in Confessions occurs when Augustine reflects on his own moral failures: “I became to myself a wasteland” (Augustine, 400, II.10). This phrase encapsulates his understanding of evil not merely as an external phenomenon but as an inner desolation—a self-inflicted alienation from the source of goodness. The metaphor of the “wasteland” transforms evil into a state of spiritual barrenness, where divine order has been abandoned and replaced by the chaos of willful desire. Augustine’s language of emptiness underscores his belief that evil is not a competing force against good but the erosion of the self’s participation in God’s order, ultimately concluding that moral evil is the soul’s estrangement from its own highest good.
In order to delve into Augustine and other philosophers’ perceptions of evil, it is first necessary to distinguish between two categories: natural evil and moral evil. Natural evil encompasses events beyond human control—natural disasters, disease, or congenital defects—that cause immense suffering without any direct human agency. Moral evil, by contrast, stems from the deliberate choices of human beings: violence, betrayal, oppression, and cruelty (Augustine, 1955). The importance of this distinction lies in how responsibility for the evil is assigned. If moral evil is a byproduct or even a pursuit of human freedom, natural evil poses a far greater challenge, since it appears to emerge from the very structure of creation itself.
Philosophers have long debated whether natural evils can be justified. Philosopher Richard Swinburne argues that they are preconditions for greater goods. Pain alerts us to danger and allows resilience to form; natural disasters remind humans of their limitations and encourage cooperation (Swinburne, 1978). Essentially, philosophers like Swinburne claim that such evils are necessary for humans to develop virtues like courage or compassion. English theologian John Hick also agreed with this view, suggesting that suffering provides the conditions for moral and spiritual growth (Hick, 1966/2010). Yet critics argue that the scale of natural evil—millions dying in plagues, entire communities destroyed by earthquakes—goes far beyond what is necessary for moral education. The disproportionality of suffering raises doubts about whether such evils can be defended as serving any higher purpose. Moral evil, meanwhile, is more directly tied to Augustine’s theology. He insists that God gave humans free will and that evil arises when individuals misuse this freedom by turning away from divine goodness (Obispo & King, 2010). In this way, responsibility for sin lies not with God but with humanity itself. But this raises a contradiction: why would God create human beings that could so easily become corrupted in the use of their free will?
The broader philosophical tradition underscores the severity of these challenges. Hume famously posed the dilemma in Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion, stating “Is [God] willing to prevent evil, but not able? then is he impotent. Is he able, but not willing? then is he malevolent. Is he both able and willing? whence then is evil?” (Hume, 1779/2009). Australian Philosopher J.L. Mackie sharpened this into the “logical problem of evil,” arguing that the propositions “God is omnipotent,” “God is wholly good,” and “evil exists” are logically incompatible (Mackie, 1982). Unless one of these premises is rejected, belief in such a God is incoherent. Mackie’s conclusion directly threatens the very coherence of Augustine’s framework, since it challenges the possibility of reconciling God’s attributes with observable reality.
In response, some philosophers have sought to soften this apparent contradiction. Professor David Basinger argues that omnibenevolence need not entail the elimination of every evil, since some evils may be necessary for the sake of greater goods such as moral freedom (Basinger, 1983). In this view, God’s goodness is not compromised by allowing evil, so long as evil contributes to a larger, coherent plan. British philosopher Bob Brecher, analyzing Descartes’ causal argument for God’s existence, likewise reaffirms divine perfection, but admits that such metaphysical claims do not resolve the existential force of suffering (Brecher, 1976). These approaches aim to preserve God’s attributes, while acknowledging the persistence of evil, but they stop short of offering a fully satisfying answer to the lived reality of pain and injustice.
Augustine’s Privation Theory
At the heart of Augustine’s response to the problem of evil is his concept of evil as a “privation of good.” This theory represents a radical departure from dualistic models like Manichaeism and an embrace of the non-binary thought that underlies Neoplatonism. For Augustine, evil has no ontological substance of its own—it is not a “thing” but rather a corruption or deficiency in something that is otherwise good (Mackie, 1955). Like darkness is to light or false is to truth, evil takes place in areas where good does not preside. As Theology professor Mathew Knotts discusses, Neoplatonism is crucial to Augustine’s articulation of the privation theory (Knotts, 2015). As creatures move farther from the One, they become less perfect, less unified, and more susceptible to corruption. Augustine adapts this into Christian theology by proposing that creatures are good by nature but are imperfect because they are not God. Their limitations make them capable of experiencing or causing evil.
Augustine developed this idea during his theological and philosophical maturation. In Confessions, he explains how he once believed evil was a material substance, “evil…had its own hideous and deformed extended body…some malignant spirit penetrating that earth” (Augustine, 400, V.10), but he ultimately came to understand evil as non-being: “evil was nothing but a privation of good” (Augustine, 400, III.7). This realization was key in reconciling his belief in an omnibenevolent, omnipotent God with the observable presence of suffering, injustice, and corruption. The philosophical foundation of this theory rests on the metaphysical principle that being itself is good. Everything that exists, insofar as it exists, is good because it participates in God’s creation. Thus, corruption, disorder, and suffering arise not from being, but from a diminishment of being. In this light, evil becomes the absence of the good that should be present in a thing, not a force existing in competition with good. This idea allowed Augustine to maintain that God did not create evil while still acknowledging evil’s presence in the world.
Davies defends this view by arguing that evil, as a privation, cannot be the object of divine creation. According to Davies, evil is more like the hole in a sock or a tear in fabric—it is an absence of what should be there, not a substance in itself (Davies, 1992). In this model, suffering and wrongdoing arise when creatures fail to act in accordance with their proper nature, which is directed toward being and therefore toward the good. Furthermore, Philosopher Kane Stanley supports this view by noting that evil depends on good for its definition and reality. His article explains how Augustine’s approach sees evil as “ontologically parasitic” (Stanley, 1980). It can only be understood in relation to the good it distorts, and without the good, the concept of evil becomes meaningless. Stanley reinforces that this theory aligns with a classical metaphysical hierarchy, where God, as the fullest being, is also the source of all goodness, and any deviation from God’s order reveals evil.
A central pillar of Augustine’s theodicy is his emphasis on human free will. While God is the creator of all things and the source of all goodness, Augustine also argues that evil arises not from divine intention but from the voluntary misuse of human freedom. In this way, Augustine maintains that moral responsibility for evil falls on human beings rather than on God. He argues that this allows for the coexistence of God with evil, as while God creates a being to be good, they can use their free will to go against goodness. This idea is not merely a theological claim but a metaphysical one: creatures are given freedom because they are rational and capable of love—and with this freedom comes the possibility of choosing wrongly.
In Augustine’s novel, On the Free Choice of the Will, he argues that God created humans with the ability to choose between right and wrong as an essential aspect of their moral agency. If humans were incapable of doing wrong, their obedience would be coerced, not virtuous, and chosen. As Augustine writes, “When anyone has a good will, he surely has something to be put far ahead of all earthly kingdoms and all bodily pleasures.” (Augustine, 388, 1.12.25.86-87). The dignity of moral responsibility thus requires the risk of moral failure. Evil, then, is not created by God but introduced into the world through the wrongful choices of free agents. According to Augustine, “It turns out that the good things desired by sinners are not in any way evil, and neither is free will itself, which we established should be numbered among the intermediate goods. Instead, evil is turning the will away from the unchangeable good and towards changeable goods.” (Augustine, 388, 2.19.53.200). This emphasis on free will is critical to preserving the notion of divine justice. God is not unjust for permitting evil if the creatures who commit evil do so freely. The consequences of moral evil are thus a necessary aspect of a moral order that values autonomy and accountability. Therefore, Augustine’s second piece in his argument is that divine omnibenevolence remains intact because God permits evil for the sake of a greater good, which is the existence of free and morally responsible agents.
Yet even as Augustine upholds free will as essential to moral responsibility, his system raises a deeper problem: if God already knows everything that will happen, can human beings ever truly choose freely? Augustine tries to resolve this by distinguishing between what God knows and what God causes, writing that “For although He has foreknowledge of our will, it is the will of which He has foreknowledge. Therefore, it is going to be our will, since He has foreknowledge of our will. Nor could it be our will if it were not in our power. Therefore, He has foreknowledge of our power” (Augustine, 388, 3.3.8.34–35). In other words, God’s knowledge of future actions does not make those actions happen. Augustine believes this distinction preserves both divine omniscience and human freedom. However, it also introduces a serious tension. If God’s foreknowledge is perfect and cannot be wrong, then every human action is, in some sense, already known and fixed. This creates a paradox: how can our choices be truly free if their outcomes are already certain?
Still, this tension is not merely a flaw—it exposes one of the most important aspects of Augustine’s thought. By trying to hold divine perfection and human freedom together, Augustine captures the psychological complexity of faith itself: the need to believe that our choices matter even in a world governed by providence. His struggle reflects the lived conflict between moral agency and dependence on God, between responsibility and surrender. Even if his metaphysical explanation remains incomplete, Augustine’s willingness to wrestle with this contradiction gives his theodicy emotional depth. It shows that faith, like freedom, is an act of trust made in uncertainty—a human attempt to affirm goodness despite never fully understanding it.
Objections and Limitations
Despite its internal coherence and enduring influence, Augustine’s account of evil faces significant criticism. Philosophers and theologians have questioned whether the privation theory and emphasis on free will adequately explain the full scope of moral and natural evil, particularly the most horrific forms of suffering. Many objections focus on the emotional insufficiency of Augustine’s response, the ambiguity of “privation,” and whether his framework can account for evils so destructive that they appear to overwhelm any meaningful conception of good.
American philosopher Marilyn McCord Adams offers one of the most compelling critiques. She argues that Augustine’s theory cannot adequately address the magnitude of certain forms of suffering (Adams, 1993). Genocide, torture, and child abuse, for instance, are not merely absences of good but experiences so deeply violating that they fracture one’s sense of identity and dignity. To describe these events as simple “lacks” risks trivializing the lived experience of victims. The force of these evils feels active and invasive, not merely like something missing. Similarly, philosopher Mark Ian critiques the metaphysical neatness of Augustine’s view by contrasting it with the psychological complexity of suffering (Ian, 2013). Mental illness—particularly depression—often feels like a consuming presence rather than a diminished state. Suffering, in practice, is not experienced as “less being,” but as a heavy, overpowering reality. The emotional and existential weight of such experiences challenges the idea that evil can be understood purely as privation. For a theodicy to be credible, it must address not only logical coherence but also the human experience of pain.
Beyond these objections, I find Augustine’s privation theory difficult to reconcile with the complexity of human experience in regards to actions and emotions. His claim that evil exists wherever good is absent seems too rigid when I consider the gray areas between the two. First, Augustine’s definition—and societal definitions—of “good” and “evil” are too rigid. For example, if “evil” emotions, such as anger and jealousy, can be directed toward meaningful growth, whether for the maintenance of free will or as a catalyst for personal growth and transformation, then perhaps such emotions should not ever be defined as evil. Murder is generally classified as “evil,” yet in cases of self-defense or protection of others, can it truly be considered the same moral violation? Anger is often treated as destructive, yet it is anger that has fueled social movements, empowered people to speak out against oppression, and motivated communities to demand change. Furthermore, the binary nature of these emotions ignores feelings such as boredom or sadness, which are neither destructive nor virtuous, yet if evil truly resides in every crevice where good does not, then even these neutral emotions would have to be considered evil. That conclusion feels both untrue and unfair, since boredom and sadness can be opportunities for reflection, rest, or even creativity. I view Augustine’s theory as oversimplifying the moral landscape, leaving little room for the ambiguities that shape everyday life, highlighting a key limitation of the privation theory: its inability to account for the nuanced, in-between spaces where most human emotions, actions, and moments actually reside.
These objections do not wholly dismantle Augustine’s theory, but they do underscore its limitations. The privation theory may resolve metaphysical puzzles, but it struggles to comfort those in pain or to explain atrocities in morally satisfying ways. The emphasis on free will may affirm human agency, but it may also ignore the social, psychological, and historical factors that constrain human action. In the face of these criticisms, some philosophers have turned to alternative theodicies that seek to address these shortcomings more directly.
Other Theodicies and Alternatives
While Augustine’s privation theory and emphasis on free will provide a foundational framework for explaining evil, many philosophers have developed alternative theodicies to address its limits. These approaches respond to the abstractness of Augustine’s model and the perceived insufficiency of free will alone to justify suffering. Three significant examples are Alvin Plantinga’s “Free Will Defense,” John Hick’s “Soul-Making Theodicy,” and Susan Neiman’s “Moral Critique of Evil.”
Alvin Plantinga, a contemporary American philosopher, argues that the existence of evil is not logically incompatible with an all-good, omnipotent God. He claims that God could not have created a world where free creatures always choose good; moral freedom necessarily allows for the possibility of evil. His “Free Will Defense” does not explain every instance of suffering but demonstrates that belief in God remains logically coherent despite evil’s presence. Though less metaphysical than Augustine’s privation theory, Plantinga similarly upholds free will as essential to moral meaning (Kroon, 1981).
British religious philosopher John Hick, by contrast, sees suffering as vital for moral and spiritual growth. His “soul-making” theodicy interprets evil as part of humanity’s developmental process toward virtue. The world, for Hick, is a “vale of soul making” designed to cultivate traits like courage and compassion. While this view offers a more emotionally resonant response than Augustine’s, it raises ethical concerns—why must some endure disproportionate suffering for the sake of growth? (Hick, 1966/2010).
Finally, Susan Neiman, a contemporary American philosopher, rejects the entire project of justifying evil. In Evil in Modern Thought, she argues that the attempt to rationalize suffering risks moral complacency. For Neiman, evil should provoke outrage, not explanation, and the effort to “solve” it can silence victims’ experiences (Neiman, 2015). Together, these perspectives reveal the enduring tension between faith, reason, and morality—showing that no single theodicy can fully reconcile the existence of evil with a coherent vision of divine justice.
Other Religious Viewpoints
While Christian theology, particularly through Augustine, has deeply shaped Western discourse on evil, other religious traditions also grapple with reconciling divinity with the existence of evil and injustice in society. Examining how religions like Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, and Buddhism understand evil and its coexistence with God can illuminate a broader and more nuanced perspective on this philosophical dilemma.
In Judaism, the problem of evil is approached as a lived tension between divine justice (tzedek) and the suffering of the righteous. The Book of Job confronts this directly: Job suffers despite his righteousness, and his friends assume suffering must indicate sin. God rebukes them and instead emphasizes the limits of human understanding, explaining “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?” (Job 38:4) (V, 1886). Jewish theology often embraces this mystery rather than resolving it, allowing lament and protest within faith. This openness reflects a relationship with God that is not based on unquestioning acceptance, but on honest struggle, conversation, and emotional transparency. Unlike Augustine’s argument regarding free will, in Judaism, moral responsibility arises not from understanding God’s motives, but from acting justly even when divine justice is unclear. Job models a stance in which righteousness persists despite uncertainty, making moral responsibility an act of integrity rather than certainty.
Islamic theology, particularly within Sunni traditions, likewise maintains God’s absolute sovereignty (tawhid). The Qur’an acknowledges suffering but frames it as a test of moral character: “We shall test you with something of fear and hunger… but give glad tidings to those who patiently persevere” (Qur’an 2:155) (Itani, 2015). The doctrine of qadar (divine decree) asserts that all things occur by God’s will, yet humans remain accountable for their responses. Al-Ghazali argued that what appears evil may hold hidden divine wisdom (Abrahamov, 1993). Within this view, moral responsibility emerges through sabr (patience) and taqwa (righteous conduct): one cannot control all events, but one is responsible for ethical intention within them. Enduring suffering becomes an act of spiritual discipline, a way of cultivating inner steadiness and trust rather than resignation. Like Augustine, Islam links goodness to voluntary moral action, but it places greater emphasis on patience, humility, and disciplined conduct in the face of hardship.
Hinduism presents a different framework grounded in karma, the moral law of cause and effect across lifetimes (Wadia, 1965). Sanatana Dharma, the “eternal law,” establishes universal principles of right action (Hacker & Davis, 2006). In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna tells Arjuna that the soul (atman) is eternal and that suffering should be met with clarity and steadiness (Levin, 2022). Suffering becomes part of an ongoing process of moral and spiritual development rather than a contradiction of divine goodness. Here, moral responsibility is deeply individualized: each action carries consequences that shape one’s spiritual path. Unlike Augustine’s emphasis on a singular moral history shaped by original sin, Hinduism understands growth as unfolding across multiple lives. Hinduism also allows for the possibility that suffering teaches resilience and ethical awareness. This perspective suggests that even painful experiences can hold meaning, not because they are justified, but because they can reveal something about one’s capacity to endure, adapt, or change. It reframes evil not as a final condition, but as a moment within a longer arc of unfolding moral and emotional understanding. From this view, evil may function not merely as a lack, but as a catalyst for reflection and transformation.
Buddhism, which is non-theistic, reframes the problem entirely. Suffering (dukkha) is a universal condition caused by desire and attachment, and liberation (nirvana) is attainable through the Eightfold Path (Frankfurter, 1880). Rather than explaining why suffering exists, Buddhism emphasizes how to respond to it. Moral responsibility lies in cultivating awareness and compassion; suffering becomes something to be understood and transformed rather than justified. Buddhist literature, such as the Jataka Tales and Mahayana sutras, often portrays bodhisattvas working to alleviate suffering, presenting an ethical ideal grounded in compassion rather than obedience to divine will. This reflects an understanding of morality as something enacted moment by moment, through mindful attention and small acts of care. Where Augustine externalizes evil as deviation from divine good, Buddhism internalizes it as ignorance that obscures insight. In this framework, responsibility involves lessening harm and cultivating wisdom through practice.
These religious viewpoints offer distinct yet overlapping strategies for addressing suffering. Judaism emphasizes protest and fidelity amid uncertainty, Islam emphasizes patience and ethical intention, Hinduism frames suffering as moral instruction across lifetimes, and Buddhism teaches the transformation of suffering through disciplined awareness. Together, they contextualize Augustine’s theory as one contribution among many in a global philosophical conversation about evil and moral responsibility.
Conclusion
The problem of evil continues to challenge religious belief and philosophical reflection across traditions, cultures, and centuries. Augustine’s argument that evil is a privation of good offers a sophisticated and enduring framework within Christian thought, and his emphasis on free will foregrounds human agency. Yet as this paper has shown, privation theory cannot fully account for the emotional weight of suffering, the moral complexity of human experience, or the disproportionate scale of harm that defines much of human history. A more grounded theodicy must therefore begin not with metaphysics, but with lived reality. Rather than explaining suffering away, it should acknowledge its depth—its psychological force, its social roots, and its capacity to fracture identity. Approaches drawn from liberation theology, existential philosophy, and even non-Christian traditions emphasize that moral responsibility arises not from resolving the paradox of evil, but from meeting suffering with presence, integrity, and action. Where Augustine seeks coherence, these frameworks seek compassion; where Augustine defines evil as absence, they treat suffering as an experience that demands response.
To wrestle with evil is not only to ask why it exists, but to consider how we respond to it. Acts of compassion, justice, and empathy are themselves answers to this enduring question. The task is not to eliminate evil, but to resist and transform it where we can—bringing philosophy into practice, and striving to make goodness prevail.