Why do bad things happen to good people?
The Roman statesman Boethius, who died in October 524 AD, reflected on how we can respond to injustice and suffering with grace.
Gracious reader,
In this issue of Civic Renaissance, we explore:
Why do bad things happen to good people? Reflections from Boethius—who died in October, 524 AD.
The meaningful use of suffering
Civic Renaissance Retreat: Would You Join Us?
Did you catch my election series? Click here to read Part IV—It’s Okay NOT to Talk About Politics!
Review The Soul of Civility?
Boethius: Statesman-Scholar
Had the Roman Senator Boethius (480–524 AD) lived the happy life he may have originally envisioned for himself and his family, we likely wouldn’t know his name today. He wouldn’t be counted among the most influential and widely read thinkers in intellectual history. His response to adversity and injustice remains an inspiration to us all.
At the height of his career, Boethius served as Prime Minister to the Roman Emperor Theoderic the Great (454–526)—essentially, he was second in command of the Roman Empire. While he operated in the highest realms of politics, he also dedicated an enormous amount of time to intellectual pursuits.
For example, his Ancient Greek was excellent—a rarity in his day (and in our own!)—and he was committed to translating Plato and Aristotle from Greek into Latin for all of his fellow Romans, not just the well-educated or high-born, to enjoy and benefit from.
He also wrote commentaries on these thinkers, explaining their philosophies and attempting to reconcile their ideas for his readers—a project he never completed for reasons we’ll get to shortly.
Some ancient texts would have been lost to history had Boethius not taken the time to translate them.
Side note: I’m inspired by Boethius’ translation project. I’ve always wanted to undertake a translation initiative of my own, similar to his. If I ever came into an enormous inheritance, I’d gladly invest in it! It’s amazing to reflect on how many incredible thinkers remain unknown to the English-speaking world simply because we don’t have their works translated into our own language. I’d love to be part of changing that one day.
Boethius had everything going for him—until he didn’t. He was accused of conspiring against the Emperor, and for some reason, the Emperor believed the conspiracy.
Boethius was widely read and believed that a well-educated person needed to be proficient in arithmetic, geometry, music, and astronomy. He coined the term quadrivium—meaning “four roads” or “the four-way path”—to describe these four disciplines. This curricular ideal became particularly influential in the Middle Ages. Students would advance to the quadrivium after mastering the trivium, or “three-way path,” comprised of rhetoric, grammar, and logic. Together, the trivium and quadrivium were considered the seven “liberal” arts. During the rise of universities in the 11th and 12th centuries, a student had to master the seven liberal arts before moving on to advanced study in fields like theology, medicine, or philosophy.
Boethius cared deeply about moderation, temperance, and unity. For example, he anticipated the growing tension between the Eastern and Western Churches—Greek Orthodox and Latin Catholic—500 years before the Great Schism of 1054. A devout Christian, he actively worked to heal the rifts between these factions.
As we’ll see, his sympathy for the “wrong” side—the Greek Orthodox Church—got him into trouble later in his life.
In 523, after being the second most powerful person in the empire, Boethius was accused of colluding with the Eastern Emperor Justin to overthrow the Western Emperor, Theoderic, whom he served.
Unfortunately, Theoderic believed the accusations, and Boethius was stripped of his position, possessions, and freedom. He was imprisoned in Pavia, Italy, for a year before being sentenced to death.
While in prison, you can imagine the thoughts that might have plagued Boethius. Why me? How could this happen? I did nothing to deserve this.
To grapple with this foundational question—why do bad things happen to good people?—Boethius wrote, while imprisoned, one of the most influential texts in history.
Called The Consolation of Philosophy, Boethius dialogues with “Lady Philosophy,” a personification of wisdom, to, as Milton might say, “justify the ways of God to men.”
Adversity and injustice are real, painful, and inevitable parts of the human condition. Millions have been displaced and hurt by the war in Ukraine, the conflict in Israel and Palestine, and so many other injustices around the globe. Millions more lost their jobs, livelihoods, businesses, and loved ones during the COVID-19 pandemic. Suicide rates and other “deaths of despair” are higher than ever, impacting many families, including my own recently.

I’ve recently had several brushes with adversity—nothing compared to what many have endured and are currently enduring. I cannot overstate this enough.
But these experiences have led me to reflect deeply and personally on the adversity inherent in the human experience and how we might use suffering to become better, more tender, increasingly grateful, and more fully human. I’d like to share some of these reflections with you.
How Our Response to Adversity Can Make Suffering Worse
During my recent brushes with hardship—from our home being destroyed to undergoing an unexpected, massive renovation while bringing two creative projects (a TV series and a book) into the world and traveling to fifty cities across five countries on a book tour, all with two toddlers—I handled the stress better on some days than others.
I realized that my less-than-admirable response to suffering only made my experience more agonizing.
I was trying to control too much that was beyond my control. In my striving and grasping, my response to suffering only deepened my pain.
The Stoic philosopher Seneca recognized this tendency as well. He offered a useful tactic for managing the inevitable suffering in life: envision the worst-case scenario of whatever it is you’re most worried about, so you can mentally prepare for it. Then, if the worst-case scenario does come to pass, you might be less blindsided and, in a sense, inoculated against the suffering. Being prepared may lessen the impact, and if the worst-case scenario doesn’t occur, you’ll enjoy the relief all the more.
By mentally preparing for the worst, we can ease both the cause of our suffering and the suffering that comes from our response to adversity.
The Origins of Suffering
My hardships pale in comparison to those many others have faced. But they led me to search for answers as to why this was happening to me, prompting deep reflection on my view of cosmic or divine justice.
Was my view of justice causal or karmic in nature—believing that what happens to us, both good and bad, is a direct result of our actions? Or was it more like the perspective in the Book of Job, where suffering in life has nothing to do with what we’ve done?
These questions touch on timeless aspects of the human condition that people have pondered for millennia:
Why do bad things happen to good people?
Why do bad people seem to be rewarded in life?
For Boethius, a sixth-century Roman politician unjustly imprisoned and executed for crimes he didn’t commit, these questions were understandable but ultimately misguided. In The Consolation of Philosophy, a dialogue between himself and “Lady Philosophy” written while he was imprisoned, Boethius reflects on the imperfect nature of justice on Earth.
He concludes that it’s impossible for bad things to happen to good people or for good things to happen to bad people. Why? Because virtue is its own reward, and vice its own punishment.
Leading a morally upright life is good and right in itself; it’s its own reward, bringing a coherent, tranquil spirit and soul. Conversely, leading a life of cruelty and vice is its own punishment, as these behaviors deform the soul and wreak havoc on the psyche.
When we suffer, it’s natural to seek reasons for our suffering, to find meaning in it. We want our suffering to have an origin and a purpose. For suffering to be random and without reason is simply too much for many of us to bear.
Would I rather my recent hardships be a punishment from the universe for a specific wrongdoing, or would I prefer them to be random occurrences with no reason at all? I’m not sure. But the answer to my original question—whether the origins of our suffering are causal or random—might be both.
Sometimes, our actions lead to clear consequences. For example, there’s no mystery behind the cause of a Sunday-morning hangover. Other times, tragedy strikes with no apparent reason, and trying to make sense of it only deepens the pain. Consider a mother who loses her children in a senseless accident—such suffering is simply tragic, and searching for meaning in it only makes the grief worse.
On the Proper Uses of Suffering
During some of the difficult days over the past year and a half in this trying season, uncertain of what the future held for me and my family, I tried to take the long view. I hoped that my suffering might be forming me for a greater good or sparing me from a greater evil.
As I reflected, I compiled a list of ways we can use suffering constructively:
Suffering fosters gratitude. This challenging time reminded me of the many blessings in my life. I’ve never felt more profound gratitude for my children. Holding them while my soul was in despair brought a flood of thankfulness that displaced the pain.
Suffering cultivates selflessness. Adversity shakes us from complacency. As Tim Keller notes, it exposes the "rats in the basement" of our soul. It painfully shatters our ego and puts our self-perception into perspective.
Suffering reminds us of our dependence on others. Hardship forces us to confront the reality that we control so little in life. It compels us to surrender our illusion of control and recognize our vulnerability. Suffering strips away the myth of invincibility and autonomy, reminding us that we rely on others.
Suffering deepens our humanity. Hardship fosters empathy and tenderness of heart. It allows us to better understand the suffering of others, creating opportunities for vulnerability and intimacy—qualities often undervalued in a culture that prizes independence.
Suffering reorders our priorities. During my difficult period, I often envisioned my fist tightly clenched around a dream or desire. Yet, despite my determination, adversity forced me to open my hand, painfully releasing my grip. This image suggests that sometimes we must let go of our desires to make room for something better. Suffering teaches us to hold temporal things loosely and place our hope in what truly matters.
Each of these is a proper use of suffering. We can choose to let suffering make us bitter and resentful, or we can allow it to shape us into people who value the right things and live life more fully.
Final Thoughts
Sometimes, after enduring hardship, we eventually find meaning and purpose in our suffering. We might even come to be grateful for it. Other times, we emerge wounded and exhausted, and gaining a healthy perspective takes time—sometimes a long time.
Regardless of our mindset during and after suffering, we can ask ourselves a few questions that encourage us to rise above our immediate concerns and adopt a broader perspective on adversity:
What can this teach me?
How can I allow this to strengthen my character, purify my motives, and make me a better, more compassionate person?
How might this experience be ending something old and making room for something new?
How might this experience be redeemed?
Our culture doesn’t equip us well to deal with suffering. It often promotes a shallow view of humanity, where anything that disrupts our comfort or gratification feels like an unjust punishment. While I strive to cultivate a desire for eternal things, I found myself succumbing to a "woe-is-me" mentality during this period, fixating on my own small concerns.
This experience revealed how much more I need to grow. It’s only when we face adversity that we realize our shortcomings. Recognizing these blind spots may be one of the unexpected blessings of hardship.
Most of human history has been marked by conflict, injustice, and suffering. Times of peace and prosperity are the anomaly, though they often seem like the norm. This expectation of peace is one reason we’re so shocked by the unprovoked war in Ukraine today.
We can put our own afflictions into perspective by remembering the magnitude of suffering in the past and the present. This can help us allow our suffering to shape us into more sensitive, empathetic, and kind human beings.
Questions for Reflection
Here are some questions to consider about the nature, purpose, and proper use of suffering:
What approaches to suffering have helped you through tough times?
What insights into the meaning and purpose of suffering have you gained from difficult experiences?
What is your view on why people suffer? Is it causal, where people get what they deserve, random, where suffering has no relation to what we do, or a mix of both?
How can we use our suffering to strengthen our character and make us more empathetic and fully human?
I’d love to hear your thoughts. Please feel free to share them in the comments below!
I offer these reflections in the hope that they might provide encouragement and comfort in difficult times. Community is especially important during trials, so I’m grateful that you are here.
Warmly,
Lexi
Looking ahead:
October 30- Whithworth University, virtual talk, find out more here!
November 12- Greater Muncie Chamber of Commerce, Muncie, IN
November 14- Berry College, Mt. Berry, GA
November 19- Hillsdale College, Hillsdale, MI
January 23, 2025- I am thrilled to announce that I will be speaking at Yale Law School this coming January, invited by the Crossing Divides Program, part of the Tsai Leadership Program, which is dedicated to building strong bridges across our differences.
Invitation:
Civic Renaissance Retreat: Would You Join Us?
Would you be interested in joining us for a Civic Renaissance retreat and conference on civility in 2025 in Indianapolis?
This retreat and conference is envisioned as a unique opportunity to gather and discuss how we can all flourish despite our differences. We’ll explore ways to bring these ideas back to our own communities to help them thrive amidst division.
During the event, we will:
Gain a deeper understanding of the roots of our current challenges and explore solutions that promote civility.
Develop emotional intelligence and relational skills to enhance conversations and relationships in all areas of life.
Learn practical strategies for creating and sustaining a civility community.
Write to me with your interest and ideas at ahudsonassist@gmail.com
In the news:
I’m honored that people are still reviewing my book, The Soul of Civility, a year after publication! How might we flourish across our differences? This is the central question of my book and of our current moment.
Thank you to Henry T. Edmondson III for the thoughtful meditation on this essential topic of our time. Click here to read!
Blue Sky Podcast- Author Alexandra Hudson on Her Book, The Soul of Civility: Timeless Principles to Heal Society and Ourselves
How to Be a Better Human Podcast: I loved talking with Chris Duffy on his excellent TED podcast about How to be civil even if you disagree (w/ Alexandra Hudson)
Interintellect- Watch an inspiring conversation between Lexi and Sean Hughes on the urgent issue of civility in our modern world
TIME Magazine— What Emily Post and Daniel of Beccles Can Teach Us About Civility Today
Thank you for being part of our Civic Renaissance community!
A Year Ago on Civic Renaissance:
Civility: Overrated or Underrated?
Thank for this essay, ma’am. Your questions are both timely (considering the global unrest and rising antisemitism) and yet they are also timeless. Playwrights have made fortunes exploiting those questions! Shakespeare, or Steinbeck any one?
You asked if your recent hardships are a punishment, or simply the result of a random order of change. It is both, it is one, or, as a third option, it is neither. I believe that part of “suffering” is our inability to deal with its ambiguities. One can always assign a specific wrongdoing and at the same time assign some probability of its randomness. Why was my father stricken with this horrible disease? Why was my friend taken from me so early? The answer is both specific and random. We search for meaning in something in which there is none. Some people call it simply “God’s will,” (the third option) and accept it without question. My own personal experience with suffering fostered guilt (why did I inflict such pain on my family, even though it was a random occurrence), followed by resolve (what do I need to change to avoid future occurrences.
Too often we associate “suffering” with a specific act or event – death of a family member, a bitter divorce. Yet suffering is also brought about through societal pressures; that is, it is plainly self-inflicted. We allow the ugliness of world to infiltrate and taint our outlook on the future. We see it as something we cannot control and therefore a threat to our well-being, and we suffer from the fears of that looming threat. Their perceived suffering is expressed as outrage and, if we don’t agree with their perspective, we immediately become an accomplice to their suffering. The world’s obsession with “climate change is existential” is a perfect example of this.
If we search for “meaning” in suffering, we will be frustrated, as it has none, per se. Too many times we are unable to answer the question of “why.” But in the context of meaning, suffering does provide an opportunity to find purpose. The answer to your question isn’t why or how, but in reality, where do I go from here. What can I learn about myself, and how can I put those lessons to work to make me a better parent, adult, lover, or human being.
Boethius served the “Roman Emperor” who oversaw the Fall of Rome in 476—the worst thing to ever happen (to “good people”), arguably in world history. Christianity destroyed our ancient world, destroyed our ancient texts, destroyed our ancient philosophies & universities, destroyed our ethnic faith & temples,… destroyed the place where Family is from.