There is a threat more destructive than hatred, more contagious than violence, and more underestimated than evil. Dietrich Bonhaofer, the theologian who defied Hitler, believed that the true threat wasn't brute force or even hatred. It was stupidity. Not stupidity as in low intelligence, but a far more dangerous kind. A refusal to think, to question, to confront reality with moral clarity. A kind of blindness that chooses comfort over conscience. So we ask, what if the real danger in our world isn't evil people, but people who stop thinking for themselves? [Music] To give you context, I'm quickly going to take you back to the 1930s Germany. A nation once known for its poets, philosophers, and artists, slowly gave way to something darker. A society of deep culture and intellect descended into madness. Not overnight, but step by step in silence and consent. Bonhaofer watched it happen with growing horror. He saw friends, neighbors, and respected citizens accept then defend unthinkable cruelty. Not because they were inherently evil, but because they stopped thinking critically. They traded reflection for slogans, ethics for obedience, intelligence for stupidity. To Bonhofer, this wasn't mere ignorance. It was something far more dangerous. It was a willful surrender of moral responsibility. A kind of blindness people chose because it was easier than facing the truth. And the scariest part, it didn't look monstrous. It looked like going along with the crowd. It looked like patriotism, like loyalty, like safety. I want you to ask yourself this. Have you ever gone along with the crowd? Not because you believed it was right, but because it felt safer than standing out, asking questions, or thinking differently. Bonhaofer believed stupidity spreads like a virus, but not in isolation. It thrives in crowds. In groups, people stop being individuals. They echo. They conform. They adopt easy answers and repeat them like facts. They don't ask, "Is this true?" They ask, "Does this make me belong?" In Nazi Germany, the slogans were simple. Strength, pride, obedience. No critical thinking required. Today, the slogans are still simple, but now they're algorithmic, designed to flatter us, polarize us, and reward us for not thinking too much. Stupidity doesn't spread because people are dumb. It spreads because it's easier than being thoughtful. I want you to honestly ask yourself, when was the last time you truly questioned your own beliefs or the platform that handed them to you? Evil is visible. It can be fought. Stupidity is harder. It feels harmless, but it's what makes evil possible. It's the neighbor who stays silent. The citizen who obeys without question. The follower who confuses loyalty with truth. Bonhaofer knew that evil doesn't rise through force alone. It needs help. It needs people who choose comfort over conscience. People who don't ask questions, who go along to get along. And that's where stupidity steps in. Not as a lack of intelligence, but as a refusal to think. It's passive. It's proud. and it becomes the perfect ally to evil, not because it desires harm, but because it doesn't care to understand what it's enabling. Have you ever considered that not questioning a certain belief could be just as harmful as the belief itself? Today, stupidity has new tools and it moves faster than ever. Bonhaofer feared the power of propaganda, but now propaganda doesn't need posters. It just needs your attention span. A trending post, a viral clip, a comment section. We're surrounded by content designed to make us feel right, not to help us think. We're rewarded for reacting, not reflecting. And as we scroll, we stop asking, "Who made this? What is it making me believe? Why does it feel so good to not question it?" Bonhaofer would ask, "Are we becoming obedient not to a regime, but to convenience? In the end, Bonhaofer's greatest act of defiance wasn't just his actions. It was his clarity. He understood something dangerous. That in a world collapsing into blind obedience, the quiet act of thinking for yourself is revolutionary. He didn't carry a sword. He carried conviction. While others repeated slogans, he asked questions. While others closed their eyes, he bore witness. He was imprisoned, tortured, executed at 39, just weeks before the fall of the regime he stood against. But his insight didn't die with him, because stupidity still thrives in comfort. It thrives when truth feels inconvenient. And it thrives when we choose silence over courage. So the question isn't just what Bonhaofer saw, it's what we see now. In an age of algorithms and noise, where distraction is currency and outrage is sold in scrollable feeds, will you scroll and repeat or pause and question? The fight against evil begins with a thought and the refusal to let someone else do your thinking for you.