⚠️ Warning: This article contains graphic descriptions of violence, sexual crimes, and disturbing human behavior. Reader discretion is strongly advised. The purpose of this piece is to analyze and condemn these acts, not to sensationalize or promote them.
Humanity has always carried within it a double nature. We are capable of building civilizations, creating art, and caring for one another with deep empathy, but at the same time, we harbor impulses so dark that they shock even the most hardened observers. Across history, men and women have committed atrocities not for survival or ideology but purely for pleasure. They have tortured prisoners, raped victims, killed for the thrill, and in some cases gone further still—filming their crimes to replay them, feeding on the dopamine rush like an addict who cannot stop. In the hidden recesses of the internet, there are communities that exchange and celebrate such content, some of them revolving around the torture of children, the rape of corpses, or even cannibalism. These horrors are not ancient history. They exist now, in the present, passed from one perpetrator to another like a psychological virus. To understand why such behavior persists in a world where it is no longer necessary for survival, we must look at our evolutionary roots, our neurobiology, and the cultural systems that allow cruelty to replicate.
From the beginning, survival shaped human instincts. In prehistoric times, the struggle for food, territory, and reproduction was relentless. Archaeological records reveal mass graves, weapons embedded in bones, and clear signs of intertribal slaughter. Warfare was not the invention of kings and empires; it was part of the foundation of human existence. In such an environment, aggression and domination could mean the difference between extinction and survival. Those who could fight and kill often secured resources, protected their kin, and reproduced. Warriors, chieftains, and conquerors were not merely celebrated; they were evolution’s winners. Natural selection does not care about morality. It only rewards survival and reproduction. Thus, the capacity for cruelty, the willingness to dominate, and the ability to enjoy violence became interwoven into the human condition. These traits were adaptive in chaos, because chaos was the natural state of the ancient world.
But evolution works slowly, and the environment has changed faster than our biology. Today, survival rarely requires slaughter. Modern societies are abundant enough to allow people to thrive without conquest. Yet the old wiring remains. The same aggression that once secured food and land is now expressed in contexts where it is not only unnecessary but catastrophic. For some individuals, the act of cruelty itself has become the reward. Neuroscience helps us understand why. The brain’s reward system, fueled by dopamine, reinforces behavior that feels good. Eating, achieving, or having sex all release dopamine, teaching the brain to repeat the action. But aggression, too, can activate this circuitry. Experiments show that in both animals and humans, hurting others can light up the brain’s reward centers. For certain people, domination itself becomes intoxicating. Like a drug, cruelty can become addictive. Soldiers and kings throughout history may have discovered this dark thrill on the battlefield. Torture chambers were not only tools of fear; for some, they were places of pleasure. Over time, this dopamine-linked pathway lingered in human biology. In our age, when violence is no longer a necessity, it emerges as sadism—cruelty pursued as an end in itself.
The metaphor of a virus captures this phenomenon well. Cruelty is not a single gene or trait; it is a complex of behaviors and responses that spread and replicate. It passes from parent to child when abuse teaches violence as normal. It spreads culturally when societies glorify domination, whether through myths of conquerors or media that glamorizes brutality. In the digital age, the virus has mutated further. The internet has created echo chambers where those with extreme desires can find one another, reinforcing and amplifying impulses that might once have remained isolated. In hidden forums and encrypted channels, perpetrators upload recordings of atrocities: children raped and killed, women tortured and mutilated, murders staged for the camera. Viewers replay these videos for arousal, leaving comments of approval and encouragement. Some communities exist where necrophilia—the rape of corpses—is openly discussed, or where cannibalism is fetishized. The infamous Rotenburg Cannibal of Germany, who killed and ate a willing victim, did not act in isolation; he found his victim in an online forum dedicated to such fantasies. What should be unimaginable has become a kind of subcultural contagion, spreading like infection through networks of the like-minded.
What makes this all the more disturbing is that many of these acts serve no survival purpose at all. They are not about hunger, defense, or reproduction in the evolutionary sense. They are about chasing a feeling—about rewiring the brain to associate dopamine with domination. Consider the murderer who films himself killing a child not for ransom or revenge, but simply to watch it later and relive the thrill. Consider the necrophile who derives pleasure from raping a corpse, not because it brings power in the real world, but because it fulfills a private fantasy of absolute control. Consider the cannibal who devours human flesh as part of a ritualistic performance of domination. These are not relics of a brutal age; they are modern expressions of the viral shadow that haunts humanity.
Environment plays a powerful role in whether this virus takes root. People raised in stable, supportive conditions are more likely to express empathy and cooperation. Empathy is not just a moral choice; it is a natural outcome of safety. When survival is secure, love, kindness, and generosity flourish. But when people grow up in poverty, abuse, or instability, bitterness, jealousy, and anger are more likely to shape their outlook. This is not to say every person from a harsh background becomes cruel, nor that the comfortable are always good. But statistically, hardship breeds resentment, and resentment provides fertile ground for cruelty. Just as disease thrives in weakened bodies, the virus of horror thrives in wounded souls.
This brings us to the idea of a reset. Imagine a world where humanity had to start again with only a man and a woman, equipped with full knowledge of history. Could they rebuild a species without cruelty? In theory, they could design societies where empathy, not domination, was the default. They could construct laws, norms, and institutions to reward kindness and punish sadism. Cultural evolution is fast and powerful. Unlike genes, which take millennia to change, culture can shift within generations. But biology cannot be so easily erased. The capacity for aggression would remain, dormant but ready. The challenge would be to ensure that cruelty is never rewarded. Only then could the virus be quarantined.
So what do we do in the real world, where we cannot reset? The answer is to confront the virus directly. That means intervening early in children’s lives, preventing abuse, and providing environments where empathy can grow. It means prosecuting perpetrators, dismantling online networks that traffic in violent material, and holding platforms accountable when they fail to act. It means reshaping culture so that cruelty is never celebrated, and empathy is seen as strength, not weakness. And it means treating sadism as a psychological pathology that can and must be addressed before it escalates into atrocity.
We cannot ignore that the worst human acts are happening right now. Somewhere, as these words are read, a child is being tortured on camera. Somewhere, a necrophile is replaying a video of himself violating a corpse. Somewhere, a hidden forum is trading footage of murder and commenting on it with approval. These are not isolated monsters but symptoms of a disease that will spread if unchecked.
But we must also remember that the same species that birthed this horror has also birthed compassion, art, love, and care. Both shadows exist within us, but only one should define our future. Cruelty may have been adaptive in the past, but today it is nothing more than a parasite. The choice before humanity is whether we allow it to spread unchecked or whether we use our knowledge, empathy, and technology to contain it.
The viral shadow will not vanish on its own. It must be confronted. And if it is, humanity may yet prove that its capacity for love is stronger than its addiction to cruelty.
References
- Wrangham, R. W., & Peterson, D. (1996). Demonic Males: Apes and the Origins of Human Violence.
- Pinker, S. (2011). The Better Angels of Our Nature: Why Violence Has Declined.
- Chester, D. S., & DeWall, C. N. (2016). “Combining neuroimaging and neuropsychological assessment to study aggression: Implications for theory and practice.” Aggressive Behavior, 42(3).
- Buckels, E. E., Jones, D. N., & Paulhus, D. L. (2013). “Behavioral confirmation of everyday sadism.” Psychological Science, 24(11).
- Internet Watch Foundation (IWF). (2023). Annual Report: Child Sexual Abuse Material Trends.
- FBI & Interpol reports on online child exploitation networks.
- Case study: The “Rotenburg Cannibal” (Armin Meiwes, Germany, 2001).
Personal Note
From my perspective, the world today is empowering this virus more than ever. Politics, economics, and global power struggles no longer revolve around survival or collective progress—they revolve around domination, control, and the assertion of power. Wars rage not out of necessity, but as displays of influence; leaders, corporations, and nations reward aggression and exploitation. In effect, cruelty and domination have become tools for personal or political gain, and the structures of modern society amplify rather than contain them.
This virus—the human capacity to take pleasure in the suffering or subjugation of others—is no longer confined to hidden corners of the mind. It spreads openly through systems that incentivize selfishness, brutality, and competition at the expense of empathy and cooperation. Social media, technological networks, and globalized economies create new ways for this shadow to propagate, allowing cruelty to evolve alongside our tools and institutions.
From what I see, hope is increasingly fragile. While some parts of society celebrate kindness, cooperation, and empathy, the rewards for domination remain powerful, visible, and immediate. Humanity’s worst impulses are not being eradicated—they are being normalized, systematized, and even celebrated in certain circles.
In my view, the future is bleak. Horror is no longer an aberration but a shadow that looms over the modern world. The virus of cruelty is unlikely to be stopped, and unless a force fundamentally reshapes human incentives and culture, we are heading toward a world where the darkest aspects of human nature dominate. The reality, as I see it, is that we may be doomed—not to extinction, but to a prolonged age where horror, domination, and cruelty are normalized features of our societies.