welp everyone,

as you all know, i had many thoughts about this story.

i think the main message jackson tries to intimate—this idea of “don’t be a fool to tradition” or “look how violent humans can be when sanctioned by community”—honestly felt pretty shallow and, in some ways, kind of tone-deaf. i’ll go into more depth in my review, and obviously you all heard me talk about this during the meeting, but i really don’t think these themes can be explored in the vacuum she attempts to write from. you can’t explore ideas like “violence is human nature” or “people blindly follow tradition” in a vacuum because these things don’t exist in a vacuum. and even if they could be, i don’t find them particularly rich or thought-provoking questions to begin with. they flatten the complexity of the human experience and ignore the actual systems, histories, and contexts that lead people to commit violence or conform to collective harm.

and this is where it crosses into being morally irresponsible. by acting like violence is just “human nature” rather than a product of political and social construction, the story lets people off the hook. it implies that everyone is equally capable and equally guilty, which is not only false, but also deeply dismissive of the ways violence disproportionately targets specific groups. so yeah, for me, the message not only lacks depth—it borders on being morally evasive.

and look, here’s the part that gets me: she wrote this in 1948—just three years after the end of WWII and the liberation of the concentration camps. three years after hiroshima and nagasaki. while the U.S. was still very much in the era of segregation, lynchings, and normalized racial violence. and somehow, jackson looks at that world and decides to write a “shocking” story where the twist is… people are blindly violent? the horror she’s describing isn’t speculative—it wasn’t hidden. it was on the front page of the newspaper. it was baked into the very structure of american society. so to act like this is some profound moral statement just feels bizarre, even a little naive. it kind of gives “we live in a society” energy before that was a meme.

it almost feels like jackson wants us to be disturbed by this abstract, fictional town without asking why such systems of violence emerge, who builds them, who benefits, or how they’re maintained. instead, she gestures toward some vaguely universal human flaw—like “see? everyone has the capacity to be evil”—and i find that framing both morally unhelpful and historically irresponsible, but also deeply boring. Like okay?? So what?? Who cares?? What else?? If your whole message is just “people bad,” then you haven’t said anything new—you’ve just thrown your hands up. it risks flattening victims and perpetrators into the same category and ends up weirdly exonerating the townspeople under the guise of “human nature.” “Violence is human nature” is not a sufficient theme. it is overly simplified, unhelpful, and quite boring.

I want to ask:

What is this story trying to say, and why does it say it in such a shallow, contextless way?

Why does it flatten human behavior into vague universals when the real world is bursting with specific, systemic violence?

Who does this framing exonerate? Who does it ignore?

now—to be fair, i’m not saying a story has to directly reference current events or tie itself to historical atrocities to be meaningful. allegory and abstraction are completely valid literary tools. jackson didn’t need to write about nazis or jim crow to talk about violence and complicity. but when your story’s central theme is basically “look how easily people participate in violence,” and you’re writing at a time when actual systemic violence is omnipresent and well-documented… you owe it to the reader to bring a little more nuance to the table. the themes she leans on are so broad, so obvious, that they end up feeling almost shallow. if you’re going to abstract horror—if you’re going to write an allegory instead of confronting history directly—then at least make the allegory layered, complex, original. say something we don’t already know. otherwise, what are we learning? what’s the takeaway beyond “humans bad, tradition scary”? come on girl!!!

The story’s moral ambiguity isn’t productive.
ambiguity can be powerful when it invites inquiry. But The Lottery doesn’t provoke critical ambiguity—it presents vague ambiguity. The kind that lets readers stop at “huh, people sure are bad” instead of “what system made them like this?”

you could argue its a systemic critique, and if you did, i would argue the system is too poorly setup for that to be the focus of the message (seriously…just look at the worldbuilding). The worldbuilding is too thin for serious allegory. no explanation for the ritual’s origin, no justification for its function, no believable societal logic behind it. It feels like a parable—but parables only work when their simplicity clarifies a message. The Lottery’s simplicity obscures one. and if you argue “it was never meant to be a systemic critique” i’d reply: i know. and i think her actual theme is incredibly shallow and thematically lazy. LOL.

my main point here – “humans have a capacity for violence” and “the psychology of violence” boring. lazy. overdone. there are deeper and more complex themes lurking just around the corner that jackson missed entirely.

that being said… once you start reading past the main “message,” i think some of the tertiary themes are actually way more compelling and relevant—especially in a modern context. i’m talking about things like anti-intellectualism, the normalization of horror, the way people compartmentalize or use casual, sanitized language to mask violence, and of course, the banality of evil. these aren’t things jackson necessarily foregrounds, but they exist in the margins—in how the characters speak, what they choose to ignore, and how the lottery has been absorbed into their understanding of “community.”

the anti-intellectualism in particular really stood out to me. it’s subtle, but it’s everywhere in the way people talk about the lottery—there’s this complete disinterest in asking questions, in understanding the origins or implications of the ritual. when mr. adams brings up how other towns have stopped doing it, he’s immediately brushed off. people don’t want to think too hard, they don’t want to confront the contradictions or moral failings of the system they’re upholding. and the one person who actually does question things—tessie hutchinson—only starts doing so when she’s personally affected. even then, she doesn’t criticize the system itself, just the way it played out unfairly for her. there’s no appetite for critical thinking—just adherence, deflection, and keeping things “the way they’ve always been.”

that refusal to engage critically ties directly into the normalization of horror. the townspeople don’t speak about the lottery with dread or moral weight—it’s just another yearly tradition. people joke around, run errands, talk about the weather. the violence isn’t hidden, but it’s completely normalized. and part of how they manage that is through language—they don’t call it a sacrifice or an execution, they just call it “the lottery.” the word itself is almost ironic—it usually implies something positive, something you win. but here, it becomes a linguistic veil that numbs the reality of what’s actually happening. and that’s so reflective of how real-world harm often gets hidden in plain sight—buried under euphemism, bureaucracy, and repetition.

that’s what made the story more interesting to me—not the big, clunky message about “humans have a capacity for violence and evility” or “blind tradition,” but the smaller, creepier ways people adapt to horror when it becomes routine. the way they stop thinking. the way they distance themselves. the way they internalize it so deeply that it becomes culture. jackson may not have fully explored these themes, but they’re there—and they raise way more compelling questions than the surface-level moral Jackson puts front and center. and if we reframe the story not as “humans are bad” but rather, “what kind of system could train ordinary people to kill their neighbors—or even their family—without hesitation?”, it opens the door to much more layered, important questions. questions that actually confront the structural conditioning of violence, rather than just wagging a finger at tradition.

it was really fun to discuss with you guys and i think the connection to psychology you guys had—classical conditioning, social conformity, moral disengagement- is a really cool way to look at it. in that sense, the world of “the lottery” isn’t an anomaly or thought experiment, it’s disturbingly plausible. not because “people are just like that,” but because systems can be built to make them that way. its not innate, but something plucked out of people, when they are pushed into a corner, manipulated into it, or its all they have ever known. the story starts making a lot more sense when you stop reading it as a warning and start reading it as a depiction of learned helplessness and coerced complicity.

stylistically, i did find the prose melodious and the pacing tight, but the core themes felt too weak and underdeveloped for me to really enjoy it overall. i also think jackson brushes up against something bigger—namely, how much culture shapes our moral framework—but then immediately retreats from asking any hard questions.i think this story says a lot about culture and how it has such a large influence on ones view of morality and their personal morality (though i dont know how far i want to go with this thought, as to not let off the hook people who participated in some of the worlds worst atrocities). i do think she tries to sort of take the responsibility off of the townspeople through this idea of the “human capacity for evil”, though i do think the notion of “if everyone does it then no one is guilty, and we must confront that” is part of the point (because if everyone does it, then everyone is guilty…)

still, that question of culpability within a rigid system is compelling—how much responsibility can be assigned to individuals who don’t have a choice in the system under which they operate? where do we draw the line between victim and perpetrator when complicity becomes survival? it reminded me of some of the things we talked about in crime and punishment, honestly. maybe the distinction comes down to power—those who benefit from the system can always be held accountable, while those crushed by it are more complicated. but even that has limits. jackson doesn’t really explore this tension, but it’s something i wish she had.

one thing i’ve been thinking about a lot is the story’s treatment of tradition—and how easily that can slide into a more sweeping, careless critique of culture. i think there’s a difference between questioning harmful traditions within a society and making blanket statements like “tradition is dangerous” or “people are violent because of culture.” that kind of framing risks sounding like a dog whistle for anti-indigenous, anti-non-western rhetoric, especially when the concept of “tradition” is so often weaponized to judge communities outside the western world. jackson doesn’t make that distinction—she treats tradition as this abstract, vaguely rural, backwards thing. but tradition is complicated. it can preserve language, art, survival, resistance. when it’s harmful, we should interrogate why and who benefits—not just write it off as primitive or evil. the lottery doesn’t ask those questions. it just says, “look how scary it is when people follow tradition blindly,” and leaves it at that.

Another thing that stuck out to me was how inconsistent the worldbuilding felt. For a society that supposedly accepts the lottery as a normal, recurring ritual, the details of how it’s carried out feel oddly unconvincing. Why stoning? It’s a brutal and archaic method, yet the rest of the town functions like any generic mid-century American village—people are chatting casually, running errands, making small talk. If this ritual is so normalized, why does the violence feel so theatrical and out of sync with the rest of the town’s vibe? Wouldn’t the method of execution have evolved into something more “efficient” or sanitized over time, the way real societies tend to disguise violence through process and euphemism? And if the lottery is truly treated as a necessary institution, why isn’t there some form of ideological justification, reward, or symbolic meaning attached to it? There’s no narrative around it being an honor, a sacrifice for the greater good, or even a practical solution to a problem—it just exists, inexplicably. That lack of internal logic makes the world feel less like a believable society and more like a stage built purely to deliver a moral twist. It doesn’t hold up under scrutiny, and that weakens the entire premise for me. I guess that’s fine…the “shock value” of it all…but i do think it weakens it as an allegory…and makes it more clear she wanted to shock her readers rather than actually engage in good faith with some of the themes she tried to insert in her work.

And this is ultimately my main issue with the story: it does not engage in good faith with the themes it attempts to present. It gestures toward complexity but refuses to wrestle with it. It brings up violence, tradition, and complicity without seriously interrogating their roots, mechanisms, or consequences. Instead of offering a nuanced exploration, it relies on vague abstraction and moral broadness to create the illusion of depth. But a theme is not meaningful just because it’s bleak or provocative—it has to be earned. And The Lottery doesn’t earn it. It simply points at horror and says, “Look.” That’s not an argument. That’s not storytelling. That’s just a shrug in a black dress.

furthermore, it does not engage in good faith with humanity—with what it means to be human in a world shaped by history, power, and systems of meaning. Instead of interrogating those complexities, Jackson opts for a kind of moral shortcut, one that flattens people into archetypes and abstracts violence into inevitability. There’s no curiosity here—no genuine attempt to understand how violence operates, why people conform, or what might disrupt that cycle. It’s as if the story starts with its conclusion already written: “people have the capacity to be violent,” full stop. it’s boring. okay, people can be bad. now what? so what?

it’s not just reductive—it’s dishonest. Because real human beings, in real oppressive systems, are not allegories. They’re messy, conditioned, complicit, resistant, traumatized, strategic, and sometimes all of those things at once. To ignore that complexity is not only a literary failure—it’s a moral one.

The story may reflect complicity, but it doesn’t invite the reader to interrogate it deeply. Instead, it leans into shock value and moral vagueness. We’re disturbed, yes—but what are we learning? Without asking the right questions, horror becomes spectacle, not critique. Ambiguity is powerful when it invites inquiry. But here, the lack of specificity veers into intellectual laziness. If readers walk away asking “wow, if I was in their shoes, would I resist?” instead of “what systems make people this way?” or “what sort of violence does the system I live within normalize?”, the ambiguity has failed its moral task, in my opinion. Because that first question, while seemingly Jackson’s intended point, is ultimately a bad point—these ‘shoes’ don’t exist in any meaningful context. The society within ‘The Lottery’ cannot exist in a vacuum, so approaching its morality as if it does makes no sense.

also, i kept wondering how this society would function beyond the moment we’re shown. like—what are children in this world? are they considered equal participants, or are they spared in some way? how are adults valued? is there a gendered dimension to who people hope gets chosen—like, are men seen as more essential because they perform more physical labor, so the town is quietly more “relieved” when a woman dies? does the town even want to grow, or are they subtly using the lottery as a way to cap the population? do people have more children to offset the annual loss, or fewer, to avoid emotional attachment and grief?

and all of that brings up a bigger question: what does this story say about how systems assign value to human life? even if jackson didn’t explicitly explore this, i think the subtext is there. the lottery isn’t random in its consequences—it reflects a system where life isn’t inherently sacred; it’s negotiable. where people’s worth is silently ranked by their function, gender, or age. and that feels disturbingly relevant. in the real world, systems often decide whose lives are “expendable” based on utility, productivity, social position, or convenience. whether through economics, policy, or cultural hierarchy, we see these logics play out constantly. so even if the story feels thin on its surface, it accidentally opens the door to these much deeper questions.

and then there’s the interpersonal side of it—how people even form relationships in a society like this. do they avoid getting close to others, knowing that intimacy could become a liability? or do they just bury that anxiety, pass it down through generations, letting the trauma become background noise—just another tradition no one dares to question? it makes the horror of the story less about the act of violence and more about the kind of world where that violence is not only accepted, but expected. and that’s what sticks with me the most.

sorry, that was a bit of an aside, but i think it’s worth asking. the worldbuilding here is so thin and symbolic that it leaves a lot unsaid—but ironically, that space says so much.

anyway. jackson, i guess, said “what if ritual stoning… but quaint.” and unfortunately, the surface-level takeaway kind of reflects that energy. 😭 overall, i think the story works as a horror story, it was fun and engaging. i don’t think it works as a psychological horror…we don’t interrogate any characters psychology in any meaningful sense. i also don’t think it works at all as an allegory because the themes are just too weak..i found it to be incredibly surface level and boring, reaching for profundity but ultimately falling flat, and that is why i rated it so low. Jackson points at violence without probing it, abstracts human behavior without analyzing its roots, and leaves readers disturbed but untransformed.