(Adolf Eichmann) was not a monster performing normalcy. He was something far more disturbing: an ordinary man who had, through a long and quiet series of unremarkable daily choices, stripped himself of the habit of moral reasoning. He had stopped asking whether what he was doing was right; not because he decided it was right, but because he had stopped experiencing that question as one that applied to him at all. He had handed his conscience upward, to the system above him, and found in that delegation a genuine sense of purpose and identity. And he never once looked back.
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