The Lie and the Scapegoat – Reading M. Scott Peck through Girard

This post begins a new series exploring mimetic theory and composite models.
We’ll be drawing connections between psychological, spiritual, and cultural insights, all in light of the mimetic framework. This first entry looks at People of the Lie by M. Scott Peck—a rare psychological work that confronts the reality of evil head-on, and which turns out to be surprisingly Girardian.

M. Scott Peck wrote:

“A predominant characteristic, however, of the behavior of those I call evil is scapegoating.” (p. 73)

With this single line, Peck touches the heart of what René Girard identified as the central mechanism of human violence and false unity. The scapegoat mechanism is the lie behind our social cohesion. It works by hiding the real cause of disorder and projecting it onto a victim—who is then expelled, punished, or destroyed.

Peck, unlike most psychologists, refuses to reduce evil to pathology. He sees it as a moral reality—active, deceptive, and destructive. But rather than analyze social myths or historical sacrifice rituals (as Girard does), Peck traces evil in its most intimate form: within families, relationships, and the psychology of individuals.

Peck’s view of evil hinges on projection. He defines the evil person not by overt malice, but by the refusal to accept personal fault. Instead, that fault is transferred to others—often to the most vulnerable members of a household. This projection is not simply denial. It is a weapon. It transforms the innocent into the condemned. In mimetic terms, it is the act of scandal—the moment a model becomes a rival or a victim.

This is why Peck insists:

“It is my experience that evil tends to run in families.” (p. 80)

And why he writes, in strikingly social terms:

“We exist not merely as individuals but as social creatures who are integral component parts of a larger organism called society.” (p. 124)

Composite model theory helps us make sense of this. The child formed in a household where blame is always deflected, where one sibling or parent is routinely cast as the problem, internalizes that mimetic logic. They become either the scapegoat or the persecutor. These roles are rarely chosen consciously. They emerge from patterns that shape desire, identity, and even conscience.

Peck writes:

“An individual’s evil can almost always be traced to some extent to his or her childhood circumstances, the sins of the parents and the nature of their heredity. Yet evil is always also a choice.” (p. 126)

This could be misread as deterministic—but it’s not. What Peck gestures toward, and what mimetic theory clarifies, is that our formation is inherited, absorbed, and only later challenged. We do not choose our models. But we do choose, eventually, whether to perpetuate the lie.

At the heart of that lie is the need to unify by exclusion. The victim—whether a family member, coworker, or stranger—is treated as the cause of conflict. And in many cases, this lie is socially reinforced. It works.

Which is why it must be exposed.

Christ does not explain the scapegoat mechanism. He endures it—and thereby unmasks it. The crowd believes its own story. The religious and political leaders believe theirs. But the Resurrection tells a different one. The victim is innocent. The lie is revealed.

Peck’s brilliance lies in how he draws our attention to these small-scale crucifixions—hidden in the family home, masked by a concern for goodness, carried out by those who project their failures rather than face them.

“To come to terms with evil in one’s parentage is perhaps the most difficult and painful psychological task a human being can be called on to face. Most fail and so remain its victims.” (p. 130)

Mimetic theory helps us see why this is so painful: it is not just the parent who must be reevaluated, but the entire composite structure of the self. To forgive, to confront, or even to name the lie is to risk unraveling the inherited model we once mistook for safety.

But only by naming the lie can we be freed from it.

Coming Thursday (4/17):
Narrative Identity Is Not Enough – Why mimetic structure matters more than story
We’ll explore how storytelling, while powerful, cannot substitute for a deeper understanding of how desire itself is formed. Identity is not just a story—it’s a structure.