Is Evil in Nature, or is it Nurtured?

Examining the Shadows we Cast

This Warrior Thursday, I’ve been reflecting on the character of Lex Luthor — Superman’s greatest nemesis — and how he’s portrayed differently depending on the story. Villains often serve as mirrors to the hero, revealing their deepest fears, limitations, or temptations. But they also reflect back something we sometimes don’t want to admit: that our worst enemies might have once been good people who were simply failed by love, trust, or belonging.

There’s a version of Lex Luthor in the new Superman film that feels all too familiar. He’s rich, petty, arrogant - and this is all fuel to destroy the world's greatest hero. His obsession with Superman isn’t rooted in moral conflict — it’s envy. He hates that no matter how much money or influence he amasses, he’ll never possess what Superman has: raw, effortless power. And so, he wants to destroy him. Simple.

But that’s not the Lex I grew up watching.

The Smallville version of Lex, played by Michael Rosenbaum, still holds my heart as the most complex portrayal of a villain I’ve ever seen. (Kudos to Michael Rosenbaum for such a compelling performance year after year!).

Lex wasn’t born evil — he was made to be. He was broken. You wanted to believe in him. You hoped he would make it. But over time, betrayal after betrayal — from his father, from public scrutiny, from his friends, from his lovers, even from Clark — slowly carved out a version of him that no longer trusted love. That no longer trusted anyone.

And that’s the tragedy of many villains: they weren’t born evil. They were shaped by pain, by rejection, by the feeling that no matter what they did, they’d never be enough.

Lately, people have been calling Elon Musk a “real-life Lex Luthor,” especially when comparing him to the movie version. And I get it. He’s a billionaire, eccentric, often controversial. But here’s the thing — I don’t see him as that version of Lex.

To me, he’s more like the Smallville Lex: brilliant, lonely, misread, sometimes misguided — but, in my opinion, still redeemable. I think people underestimate how deeply someone like that might want to be loved, respected, or just simply understood. And yes, while he holds immense power, he also holds immense pressure — a level of responsibility most of us can’t comprehend.

That’s not to say we should excuse harmful behaviour or ignore consequences. But before we condemn the ‘Lex Luthors’ of the world… what if we asked: What part did we play in creating them?

Because warriors don’t just fight enemies — they face truth. They seek understanding. They look for the light, even in the darkest places.

And maybe Lex Luthor didn’t need to be destroyed. I mean, he did have to turn evil to become Superman's nemesis, lol. But in the real world, what if a character like Lex just needed to be believed in.

Because here’s the truth: sometimes we create our villains. Not because we want to, but because we see them as the enemy. When we look at someone through the lens of fear, suspicion, or jealousy, we often pull that very energy out of them. I know I'm guilty of casting these shadows in the past, and I've also felt the shadows being casted. We guard ourselves, we withhold warmth, we project doubt — and before long, the person reflects back the very shadow we cast upon them.

Of course, everyone is responsible for their own actions. But if we’re all energetic mirrors, if we’re all story and frequency, then part of healing this world might not just be about defeating evil — but disbelieving in it. Refusing to expect the worst. Refusing to write people off before they’ve had the chance to show us who they really are.

This is also why I chose to be alone for over a year. Not to escape life, but to genuinely save mine. I needed to strip away the layers of projections I had unknowingly worn — the assumptions, doubts, and narratives others placed on me. Over time, I realized how much they had shaped the way I saw myself. So I paused. I sat with my spirit in silence and slowly started to come back to myself.

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Overcoming the Billionaire Supervillains

Now while some billionaires — like Elon Musk — may be polarizing and even misunderstood, others fit the mold of real-life Lex Luthors more closely than we’d like to admit. They hoard wealth, fund conflict, and operate out of deep wounds or pettiness, all while remaining behind the curtain, moving the world like a chessboard. These aren’t always the public figures we argue about online — the most dangerous ones often stay in the shadows.

But here’s the truth: we have more power than we think. 

Especially in the West, our collective buying power is one of the most underestimated forces for change. Every dollar we spend is a vote, and when we choose to support brands, businesses, and creators who are building consciously and ethically, we send a loud message: the people are awake.

Just like we project our inner shadows onto public figures, we often do the same with money. We call it corrupt, evil, or the root of all problems — forgetting that money, like people, is a neutral force until infused with intention. When we vilify money, we disown our power to shape the world with it. What if, instead of fearing money or those who have it, we reclaimed our role as conscious stewards? What if the way we think about money is no different than how we think about our perceived villains — shaped more by our unhealed beliefs than by the truth of what’s possible?

What if money isn’t the enemy? What if power isn’t inherently corrupt? What if they’re simply mirrors of our deepest beliefs?

This is why the book In This Economy struck such a chord with me. It breaks down how the economy truly works, not just through charts and forecasts, but through culture, energy, and intention. We’re no longer just living in a market economy — we’re living in a vibe economy. And if we can shift the vibe — through intention, awareness, and conscious consumption — then we can shift the very trajectory of our economy and reshape the world we live in.

This book reminded me that healing our relationship with money isn’t about tearing down the entire system — it’s about rewiring our own lens. It’s about seeing wealth as a sacred tool, a vessel for healing, a means to amplify love. If we want to build a better world, maybe we need to stop hunting for villains… and start funding visionaries.

Here’s a clip of Kyla Scanlon on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart — this was my first introduction to her and her book. Right after watching it, I immediately looked up the audiobook and started listening - I was pleasantly surprised by how much her insights resonated with my own views on the economy and where we’re collectively headed.

I’ll dive deeper into that in another post, but for today, I just want to highlight one key takeaway: we have more power than we give ourselves credit for. But in order to truly shift the tide, we need to stop dividing ourselves along political lines and start recognizing the strength we have when we move together — as the majority — with a shared vision for a better world. Because the truth is, the real battle isn’t Left vs. Right — it’s Top vs. Bottom. And those at the Top? They’re the few steering the fate of the many.

So here’s the invitation:

What part do you play in the story we’re all writing together?

Can you begin to notice where you’re projecting your own fears, or even your light, onto others — and call it back home?

Can you shift your gaze from blaming the “other side” to looking at the system as a whole — and ask yourself, where can I consciously place my energy, attention, and money to help build something better?

Because change doesn’t just start at the top. It starts in conversations like this. In hearts like yours. In everyday choices that ripple out into something far greater.

The vibe is the economy. And you, dear Warrior, are more powerful than you’ve been led to believe.

🦋