Dean’s 2nd pick of the month

The Horror of the Coward

by Dean Patrick

The horror of the coward is far more consequential than that of the bully. 

The bully has effected each of us in some way. Whether being bullied ourselves, or knowing someone else we love who is going through it…or even doing it ourselves, it is a terrible behavior of unwanted force. 

How we deal with it makes a difference that lasts a lifetime, for good or for worse. Had my own mother not seen the bullying that was taking place when I was 10 or 11 years old, I would have never had the strength or courage to turn away from drugs and alcohol. She started me in martial arts the moment she sensed what was going on. After only a few months, the bullying stopped and I train to this very day. 

There is no restitution in the coward. There is no reliability. There is no trust, no security, no inner truth of conviction. There is no protection. The coward will not provide solace and will always turn in retreat when faced with a chance to soothe or calm or reinforce. 

But the horror of the coward is something quite different. Overcoming cowardice doesn’t require martial arts or any other element of professional self-defense training. There are countless examples of professional training at the highest level where the horror of the coward is as grotesque as it is infuriating, where the consequences are monstrous. Let’s first go back in history for some truly astonishing examples where cowardice created devastation, then wrap up with some fictional accounts that continue driving the stake deeper. 

First up is Pontius Pilot, the 5th Governor of Rome who washed his hands of the killing and scourging of Jesus of Nazareth. In the greatest copout in world history, Pilot well knew the innocence of Jesus, knew that every charge brought against Jesus was against the very laws of those who arrested Him and brought Him before the governor. But Pilot also knew the political snare he was in with Caiaphas’s grip over the Sanhedrin and a Jewish revolt that was imminent if Jesus was released. Especially during Passover. There was also the risk of being disloyal to Caesar. If a revolution erupted because of a single man (regardless if the man was God or not), Pilot would face certain ruin. 

So, after he had Jesus scourged (in itself a death sentence to most) Pilot saw a power and a truth in the Nazarene that was incomprehensible. So, he washed his hands in cowardice from the ordeal and gave in to Caiaphas’s raging mob, releasing a local thug and having Jesus crucified. That it wasn’t actually Pilot’s choice at all is another story. But this is the epitome of cowardice. Pilot had all the power on earth to have every Jew murdered that very day, but instead washed his hands of any courage or strength to do anything that was moral, ethical, even legal.

Speaking of those who had the power to murder entire groups of people on any given moment, of course there’s Adolf Hitler. While Hitler most certainly would NOT have washed his hands over such an ordeal that Pilot faced, and while Hitler declared war on a single race to wipe off the face of the earth, in the end he scurried off in secrecy, broken, defeated, raging in madness, blowing his brains out, leaving the entire world in rubble and chaos. 

Staying in the same time period is Neville Chamberlain who epitomized the horror of political cowardice. His spineless appeasement of Hitler, culminating in the disastrous Munich Agreement of 1938, is a staggering example of weakness dressed up as diplomacy. By allowing Hitler to swallow the Sudetenland without a fight, Chamberlain handed the devil his due, claiming “peace for our time” as Europe stood on the precipice of war. His refusal to stand against tyranny emboldened the Nazis, sealing the fate of millions. Chamberlain didn’t just fail to act—he actively chose cowardice, ensuring that his legacy would forever be stained with betrayal and blood.

This level of cowardice is staggering in consequence, so, let’s move now to art imitating life for examples of cowards in every day life. Their actions are just as damaging and reprehensible, but closer to home.

There are two versions of the film Speak No Evil. Both show an extraordinary examination of the impotence of political correctness, how truly maddening a tool it is when facing slaughter. These are stories where courage and heart are the mandate in order to survive. Yet we watch the couples in both stories coward down like shamed dogs simply because of fearing to offend, to hurt feelings, the need to keep things at an even tone for the fear of confronting monsters right in their face who tell them EXACTLY what the plan is. 

The first film, released in 2022, leaves the audience with no hope. What the visiting couple and their children do in order to avoid ANY confrontation to how they are being brutalized by their hosts, is so pathetic in its lack of any moral fortitude, I could’t help but say they deserved exactly what happened to them. No man or woman who allows severe violence and abuse when it is clear that fighting back is the ONLY option, and cowards away from it – especially fighting to protect their children – deserves anything other than what the predators have in final store at the film’s demoralizing conclusion.

Yet there is an acceptance of such cowardice that is being slipped into our minds as the current norm from those in power who are using it for full control with the mandate that if you do fight back, ruin awaits you. 

The second version of Speak No Evil starring James McAvoy is a far more powerful film simply because of McAvoy’s villain. He is the embodiment of terror the first film lacked. But what his film does is provide the kind of hope that existed after Jesus was crucified and after Hitler committed suicide. After those dreadful events, each periods of time rose up and became stronger. McAvoy’s raging brutality comes to the one barrier he never expected: hope. When the family as a whole has had enough, it is hope that gives them the strength to overcome their terror. 

Which brings me back to my premise. There is no restitution in the coward. There is no reliability. There is no trust, no security, no inner truth of conviction. There is no protection. The coward will not provide solace and will always turn in retreat when faced with a chance to soothe or calm or reinforce. 

Take, for another fine example, Brutus, in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. Brutus’s indecision and inability to act swiftly after assassinating Caesar led to chaos. His fear of public reaction and reluctance to confront the consequences of his actions make him a coward in the face of his own political ideals – much like Pilot. His failure to secure power or stability after the assassination results in civil war and his own death. 

Finally, alas, and perfect for the upcoming horror season, is Victor Frankenstein from Mary Shelley’s masterwork. Frankenstein’s cowardice is more monstrous than his own creation. After defying the laws of nature to create life, he turns his back on the very being he brought into existence. In fear and disgust, Frankenstein abandons his creation, refusing to face the consequences of his grotesque experiment. He runs—not just from the creature—but from the trail of destruction it leaves in its wake. Innocent lives are lost, including those closest to him, all because Frankenstein lacked the courage to accept the horror he unleashed. His cowardice is both chillingly emotional and profoundly moral, marking him as the true villain of Shelley’s story.

So I leave you this, my fine readers, it is the coward who too many times is far more frightening than the raging villains of the night who await in the shadows to slit your through. Too many times it’s the villain right in front of your face who will NEVER be there for you when the cold of the blade is on your neck. 

Enjoy, and welcome to the season!

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