24 Don’t envy evil people
or desire their company.
² For their hearts plot violence,
and their words always stir up trouble.

We often root for the bad guys. They seem happier.

We admire their style: They have an edge.

We want their boldness: they say the things we wish we could.

We covet their freedom: they get away with things we daydream about.

We envy their toys. We assume they’ve earned them, but we’re even dazzled by the idea that they stole them.

They beat the system. We’d like to beat the system.

We could take this moment to ask why we like outlaws.

Maybe we vicariously enjoy their rebellion; they do things we can’t or won’t

Maybe they embolden us to indulge our worse angels: When they disregard social guardrails, we feel like we can.

Regardless of our reasoning, however, our perception is distorted.

But we don’t see behind the scenes, and we don’t read the fine print.

We don’t know about the anger that forged them, or the pain it points to.

We don’t see the damage they inflict on the people closest to them.

We don’t see their ugly thoughts, or the toxic effect they have on people.

The proverb here offers twin warnings: don’t envy the evil. And don’t look to get closer to them. They are not doing good things in general, and they will not do good things to you.

A person who elegantly destroys people who displease them may eventually be elegantly destroying you.

But this is where we often err. Postures seduce us. We respond to tone. We flock to those who stand tall, or talk tough, who skewer the people we wish we could.

But some people stand tall in defiance when they should kneel in humility.

Some people stand to communicate their superiority, instead of choosing to be accessible.

Some people stand apart to conceal their moves.

Like a magician.

Or a thief.

Jerry Seinfeld has a joke in which he asks why the pharmacist has to be two feet higher than everybody else.

Some of us try to live this way, two feet above everybody because we feel small, or two feet away from everybody because we are scared to let them see us.

Insecurity, however, is one thing. Evil is another.

The person who demands distance so you don’t witness them scheming is doing you a favor. You don’t need to be two feet away. You need to be two hundred miles away.

Their plans are bad. Their actions are worse.

Rules may not be sexy, but they exist for a reason.

The person who buys the test answers could be a maverick exposing the weaknesses of the system. More likely, however, they are just looking to beat you.

The person who agrees to a game but not its rules isn’t a rebel; they’re a cheater. They are not too big for the game – then they wouldn’t be playing at all. They are too small to win honestly. They want the advantages of an organized system, and its protections, without its restrictions.

They want it to protect them and no-one else, creating an illusion that they are better players than they are.

The cheater exploits the weaknesses of a system to steal its benefits.

They are succeeding at your expense.

Don’t play with them.

Don’t play for them.

Don’t even play near them.

You could lose much more than just a game.

(Photo Credit: Vitezlav Vylicil)