Macbeth's Morality

Macbeth does not become evil because he’s confused. He becomes evil because he learns to call evil “reasonable.”

Let me repeat that, because that’s the whole episode:

He starts using good logic for a bad purpose.
That’s how a smart person goes wrong.

Shakespeare makes Macbeth understandable on purpose. He shows you the self-talk.

We’re picking up right after the witches in Act 1 Scene 3. Macbeth has heard “king hereafter,” and now his mind is buzzing.

Then:

Act 1 Scene 4: Duncan names Malcolm heir. This is the moment Macbeth stops thinking “maybe” and starts thinking “how.”

Stars, hide your fires;
Let not light see my black and deep desires.
The eye wink at the hand, yet let that be
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.

Act 1 Scene 5: Lady Macbeth reads Macbeth’s letter and decides to push him.

Only look up clear.
To alter favor ever is to fear.
Leave all the rest to me.

Act 1 Scene 6: Duncan arrives at Macbeth’s castle — and he’s gracious. That matters.

 See, see our honored hostess!—
The love that follows us sometime is our trouble,
Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you
How you shall bid God ’ild us for your pains
And thank us for your trouble.

Transcript

Welcome to conversations with Shakespeare - part of celebrate creativity.
People call Macbeth a monster. 

But Shakespeare’s trick in the play is sharper than that: he shows you a man who can still choose—and then shows you the exact moment he starts outsourcing his choices to ambition, marriage, and prophecy.

Episode 2: Macbeth Meets Prophecy
You might call this episode how How a “reasonable” man talks himself into the unreasonable.

Last episode, the witches struck the match.
This episode, we watch Macbeth decide whether the room burns.

Here’s the main idea — and I’m going to say it so even a distracted driver can catch it:

Macbeth does not become evil because he’s confused. He becomes evil because he learns to call evil “reasonable.”

Let me repeat that, because that’s the whole episode:

He starts using good logic for a bad purpose.
That’s how a smart person goes wrong.

Shakespeare makes Macbeth understandable on purpose. He shows you the self-talk.

We’re picking up right after the witches in Act 1 Scene 3. Macbeth has heard “king hereafter,” and now his mind is buzzing.

Then:

Act 1 Scene 4: Duncan names Malcolm heir. This is the moment Macbeth stops thinking “maybe” and starts thinking “how.”

Stars, hide your fires;
Let not light see my black and deep desires.
The eye wink at the hand, yet let that be
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.

Act 1 Scene 5: Lady Macbeth reads Macbeth’s letter and decides to push him.

Only look up clear.
To alter favor ever is to fear.
Leave all the rest to me.

Act 1 Scene 6: Duncan arrives at Macbeth’s castle — and he’s gracious. That matters.

 See, see our honored hostess!—
The love that follows us sometime is our trouble,
Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you
How you shall bid God ’ild us for your pains
And thank us for your trouble.

Act 1 Scene 7: Macbeth debates the murder — and then reverses.  In this famous section, follow how Macbeth is having a problem making up his mind.

If it were done when ’tis done, then ’twere well
It were done quickly. If th’ assassination
Could trammel up the consequence and catch
With his surcease success, that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,
We’d jump the life to come. But in these cases
We still have judgment here, that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague th’ inventor. This even-handed justice
Commends th’ ingredience of our poisoned chalice
To our own lips. He’s here in double trust:
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both against the deed; then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against
The deep damnation of his taking-off;
And pity, like a naked newborn babe
Striding the blast, or heaven’s cherubin horsed

HOST:
Macbeth has been told a future. Now watch what that does: he starts interpreting everything as a sign.

This is the first “public life” lesson right here — because in public life, ambition often disguises itself as duty.

Macbeth starts thinking:
If the crown is meant for me, then taking it is not theft — it’s fulfillment.
Let me say that again, because this is the hinge:
The moment you believe you deserve power, you can start calling theft “destiny.”

And again, in a shorter version:
Entitlement makes wrongdoing feel like order.

Once a man believes the crown already belongs to him, everyone else begins to look like a temporary inconvenience.

That’s not supernatural. That’s political.

Now—this is where Shakespeare doesn’t hide the contradiction. Macbeth is split.

He can say one thing in public — “Loyalty! Honor!” —
and privately he’s thinking, “What if… what if… what if…”

The danger isn’t that Macbeth has a wicked thought. The danger is that he stays with it. He entertains it. He warms it.

HOST:
Then comes a key political moment: Duncan names Malcolm as heir.

This is the moment where Macbeth realizes:
If I wait for “chance,” I might wait forever.
And waiting is hard when you’ve been told you’re destined.
Let me repeat that in a different way

Prophecy makes patience feel like punishment.
If you think the future already belongs to you, delay feels like insult.

He’s been handed a reservation for the throne — and now he’s furious that someone else is seated at the table.

Now here is a big public-life point that’s worth repeating three times:

Once a man starts seeing success as owed to him, he stops seeing rivals as people. He sees them as obstacles.

Again:

Entitlement removes the humanity from whoever stands in your way.

Again:

The first step toward violence is often not anger — it’s dehumanizing convenience.

And Shakespeare makes it easy: Macbeth says the quiet part quietly — he begins to imagine a “dark” path.

This isn’t complicated symbolism. It’s plain:

He knows it’s wrong. He just doesn’t want to stop wanting it.

HOST:
Now we enter Act 1, Scene 5. Lady Macbeth reads Macbeth’s letter.

They met me in the
day of success, and I have learned by the perfect’st
report they have more in them than mortal knowledge.
When I burned in desire to question them further, they
made themselves air, into which they vanished.
Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it came missives
from the King, who all-hailed me “Thane of Cawdor,”
by which title, before, these Weïrd Sisters saluted me
and referred me to the coming on of time with “Hail,
king that shalt be.” This have I thought good to deliver
thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou
might’st not lose the dues of rejoicing by being ignorant
of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy
heart, and farewell.
Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be
What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature;
It is too full o’ th’ milk of human kindness
To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great,
Art not without ambition, but without
The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst
highly,
That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false
And yet wouldst wrongly win. 

This is crucial: Macbeth has already started the inward rehearsal.
Lady Macbeth doesn’t invent the ambition — she organizes it.

Let me say that again:

Macbeth supplies the desire. Lady Macbeth supplies the schedule.
He brings the hunger; she brings the recipe.
He has a spark in his head; she builds a fireplace around it.

Now, a key public-life insight:
Lady Macbeth speaks like someone who understands reputations.

She worries Macbeth is “too full” of kindness — meaning: too attached to being seen as good.
And that’s an ugly truth about public life:
Sometimes the biggest barrier to wrongdoing is not morality — it’s image.

People often avoid evil not because they hate evil, but because they hate being caught.

Again, a different way:

Reputation is often the last thin fence between a person and their worst choice.

Again, with an image:

A man may fear hell less than he fears gossip.

Lady Macbeth pushes Macbeth to stop worrying about the look of it and focus on the result.

This is why she’s terrifying — she treats conscience like a nuisance.

Shakespeare isn’t writing a puzzle. He’s writing what you might call a recognizable marriage argument — about courage, shame, pride, and identity.

HOST:
Then Duncan arrives at the castle in Act 1, Scene 6. He’s gracious, trusting, warm.

Why does Shakespeare do that?

Because if Duncan were cruel, the murder could start to sound “political.”
But Duncan is good — so the murder becomes plainly immoral.

And Shakespeare is teaching you — again, very simply:
A good victim destroys your excuses.


When the person you’re about to harm is kind, you cannot pretend you’re doing justice.

Again:
Duncan’s goodness makes Macbeth’s motive look smaller.
In other words, Duncan walks in like sunlight — and Macbeth is planning night.
This is Shakespeare being clear he makes sure you cannot talk yourself into thinking Macbeth is “forced.”

HOST:
Now we reach one of the most listener-friendly parts of Shakespeare — because Macbeth lays out the whole moral argument clearly in Act 1, Scene 7.

He lists reasons not to do it:
Duncan is his kinsman
his king
his guest
and a good ruler

Macbeth understands consequences too — violence breeds violence.
Macbeth makes the case against murder better than any preacher could.
His conscience is not weak. His conscience is eloquent.

He builds a perfect fence — and then climbs it anyway.
This is where the “evil as reasonable temptation” theme shines:

Macbeth’s problem is not ignorance.
His problem is desire.

Let me repeat that.

He isn’t confused about right and wrong. He’s conflicted about what he wants more. He knows the truth — he just doesn’t obey it.

Again, the punchy version:

Clear conscience. Weak will.
That’s the tragedy.

HOST:
Macbeth decides: “We will proceed no further.” He’s out.
Then Lady Macbeth speaks — and the reversal happens.
Here’s the public-life lesson: persuasion rarely says, “Be evil.”
It says, “Don’t be weak.”
It says, “Don’t disappoint me.”
It says, “Prove who you are.”

Lady Macbeth attacks identity. That’s why it works.

She doesn’t argue morality. She argues masculinity and promise.
She doesn’t debate the ethics. She shames the hesitation.
She doesn’t win with logic. She wins by pushing his pride.

Macbeth doesn’t change his mind because the murder becomes right. He changes his mind because backing down becomes humiliating.

He chooses the crown partly to avoid the feeling of being small.
He would rather be guilty than be laughed at in his own house.
Now we arrive at the cold truth of “reasonable evil”:

Once Lady Macbeth presents a plan, the crime stops feeling like chaos.
It starts feeling like a project.

Let me repeat that:
A plan makes a crime feel manageable.
A plan makes a crime feel professional.
A plan makes a crime feel… reasonable.

And that’s deadly. That’s the trick.

Because the minute you feel it’s “reasonable,” you stop hearing your conscience.
If you remember nothing else from this episode, remember this:

Macbeth falls because he learns to call evil “reasonable.”
He calls it destiny.
He calls it courage.
He calls it necessity.
He calls it manhood.
He calls it ambition.

But underneath all those respectable words is one plain fact:
He chooses to do what he knows is wrong.
The witches light the match. Macbeth chooses the fire.

Now I'd like to make a few comments about evil in public life after this cursory look at Macbeth. Evil in public life almost never arrives saying, “I am evil.”

It arrives saying:
“It’s for stability.”
“It’s for safety.”
“It’s for the good of the country.”
“It’s what must be done.”
“Others would do worse.”
“History will thank me.”
Evil loves official language.
Evil loves policies and slogans.
Evil loves to sound responsible.

And Shakespeare, very simply, gives Macbeth the same habit:
He dresses desire in respectable words.

So Shakespeare isn’t hard — he’s painfully clear.

To quote Lady Macbeth and act one, scene seven - 
Was the hope drunk
Wherein you dressed yourself? Hath it slept since?
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale
At what it did so freely? From this time
Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard
To be the same in thine own act and valor
As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that
Which thou esteem’st the ornament of life
And live a coward in thine own esteem,
Letting “I dare not” wait upon “I would,”

HOST:
Next episode: Lady Macbeth.
Not as a cartoon villain — but as a person who tries to turn off conscience like it’s a lamp.
And we’ll ask the scariest question in the play:
Hello hello you know I like you I like you OK I'll tell you I even love you I love you too What if the worst thing isn’t wanting power — but being able to sleep after you take it?

Sources Include:  The Norton Complete Works of William Shakespeare, The Essential Shakespeare Handbook, Asimov’s Guide to Shakespeare: A Guide to Understanding and Enjoying the Works of Shakespeare by Isaac Asimov, Shakespeare: The Invention of the Human by Harold Bloom, The Globe Guide to Shakespeare, The Plays, The Productions, The Life, Shakesfear and How to Cure It, by Ralph Cohen, and ChatGPT four.

Thank you for listening to celebrate creativity and conversations with Shakespeare.