Survival and Pragmatism: The Thirteenth Virtue in The Devils

The Core Claim: Survival Demands the Least-Worst Choice

In The Devils, Joe Abercrombie advances a relentless claim: when the world is howling with monsters, war, and corruption, the only sane reaction is to abandon moral purity and do whatever works. Characters repeatedly face situations where every option is terrible, and they choose not what is good but what is least bad. This pragmatism is not presented as a vice—it is the essential skill for staying alive. The novel’s thirteenth virtue, introduced as the secret chapel of the Holy Expediency, names this doctrine: to fight devils, one must sometimes use devils. The story tests this principle across a dozen broken, cunning, and desperate figures, showing that survival is never clean and that the line between righteousness and self-preservation is drawn in charcoal, not ink.

The Thirteenth Chapel: A Church That Breaks Its Own Rules

Brother Eduardo Diaz is the story’s vehicle into this moral murk. A mediocre monk whose greatest achievement is reorganising library accounts, he expects a routine audience with the Pope in the Holy City. Instead, Cardinal Zizka recruits him to run the Chapel of the Holy Expediency—a thirteenth chapel operating outside the official twelve, where the Church sanctions blackmail, assassination, and collusion with sorcerers and monsters. Diaz protests he is a mere bureaucrat, but Zizka’s logic is blunt: the world is threatened by schism, elves, demons, and magic, and conventional piety has failed. To do good—Zizka’s parting phrase—the Church must become pragmatic.

Diaz’s acceptance is his first survival lesson. He does not believe in the mission; he believes in not losing his position. He tells Zizka he will “do good” while thinking the phrase means nothing. From this moment, survival and pragmatism are fused: Diaz stays alive and relevant by suppressing his qualms and adapting to the role. The chapel’s very name—Expediency—replaces virtue with utility.

Pragmatism in Action: Characters Making the Least-Worst Choice

Alexia: From Thief to Empress in One Step

Alex begins book one being chased through a fish market by a debt collector named Bostro, who threatens to mutilate her with pincers. She has no resources, no allies, and a terrible reputation. When Duke Michael of Nicaea announces she is the long-lost Princess Alexia Pyrogennetos, she has every reason to be suspicious, yet she accepts on the spot. This is not a leap of faith; it is a survival adjustment. She knows her current life ends in death or mutilation, so she trades her street identity for a political cage. Throughout the novel, Alex continues to make these calculations: she negotiates with Cardinal Zizka to gain control of the “devils” who saved her, and even when Zizka refuses, she pivots to secure her own power. Her pragmatism is the ability to see every relationship as a transaction.

Balthazar and Baptiste: Bodies, Belongings, and the Brutal Shore

After the shipwreck in Chapter 33 (“Prone to Turmoil”), Balthazar and Baptiste wash up on a barren Dalmatian shore. Both are cold, exhausted, and half-naked. Baptiste’s first act is to loot a corpse for supplies, and when Balthazar hesitates, she mocks him: “You’re the last man I’d have thought would get coy around a carcass.” They do not have the luxury of honouring the dead; survival requires shoes, trousers, and money. Their entire journey through war-torn Serbia is a series of pragmatic choices: they use a stone circle for ritual divination, they steal from the fallen, and they keep moving despite every instinct to rest. Baptiste’s bluntness—her statement “You’re alive, aren’t you?”—is the novel’s pragmatic motto in miniature.

Jakob of Thorn: The Romantic Who Cannot Die

Jakob is the closest the book has to a true idealist. He swears an oath of honesty, fights for causes long after they are lost, and believes in the binding as a sacred duty. Yet even he is forced into pragmatism. In Chapter 71 (“All Bad Things”), Zizka tells him that his problem is being “an incurable romantic.” Jakob’s response is to grind his fists on the rail rather than throw the cardinal into the sea. He knows that killing Zizka would doom the mission, so he restrains his anger. Later, when Alex is crowned, Zizka takes the “devils” into custody, and Jakob does not stop her. He chooses survival—both his own and Alex’s—over immediate justice. The fact that he cannot die does not make him immortal in terms of purpose; he must still decide which battles to lose.

Vigga and Sunny: The Beast and the Elf Who Accept Their Chains

Vigga is a werewolf, consumed by guilt after killing Baptiste in wolf form. In Chapter 31 (“Strange Bedfellows”), she lies naked on a beach, weeping, and tells Brother Diaz to leave her because she will kill him too. Diaz, however, makes a pragmatic choice: he comforts her not from compassion but because she is the only fighter on his side. He tells her she is “magnificent” in battle, and she accepts that flattery because it gives her a reason to keep moving. Sunny, the elf, also lives by a brutal pragmatism. When she stabs a crab-man in the arse, she does not pause to think about the morality of killing; she notes that “right or wrong is mostly a question of what you can get away with.” Both characters survive because they refuse to dwell on what they cannot change.

Contradictions and Moral Complexity

The novel is not a simple celebration of pragmatism. It shows how the same logic that saves a life can also destroy one. Zizka, for instance, is the head of Earthly Curia and a ruthless pragmatist. She argues that Duke Michael—a snake she could control—would have been a better ruler than Alexia. In Chapter 69 (“Deep Pockets”), she tells Alex that the price of the throne is sacrifice and compromise, and that the “devils” must be caged. But her pragmatism has limits: she cannot accept Alex’s request to free them, because the Church’s power depends on controlling those monsters. Zizka’s survival instinct is not personal—it is institutional. The Church survives by being more pragmatic than its enemies, but that pragmatism also produces the very corruption the story satirises.

Similarly, the papal binding on each “devil” is a symbol of control. It forces them to obey, but they still act according to their own natures. Balthazar is locked in a cage with Vigga and Sunny, and he whispers about breaking the seal with Lady Severa’s secret. Even chained, he seeks escape. The binding is a tool of survival for the Church, but it creates new dangers: the moment a bound creature finds a loophole, the entire strategy collapses.

Symbols reinforce this ambiguity. The Papal Binding, the red line on the wrist, is both protection and enslavement. The Split Coin Pendant hints at divided loyalties—every character serves two masters. Saint Natalia’s Flame burns in the distance as a reminder of the religious idealism that the Church itself betrays. And The Pillar of Troy—the ancient foundation of the Serpent Throne—stands for the monumental consequences of every petty choice.

Conclusion: The Devil in the Detail

Ultimately, The Devils argues that survival in a corrupt world forces people into moral compromise, and that there is no clear victor. The characters who live—Brother Diaz, Alex, Jakob, Vigga, Sunny, Balthazar—are the ones who can shift allegiances, ignore their consciences, and act on expediency. Those who cling to rigid principles, like Baptiste or Duke Michael, die. The novel’s final note is not triumphant; it is exhausted. Pragmatism works, but it leaves no one clean.

Study Questions

1. In Chapter 3, Cardinal Zizka tells Brother Diaz, “To fight devils, one must sometimes use devils.” How does this statement become the central operating principle of the Chapel of the Holy Expediency? What are its successes and failures in the plot?

Answer: The principle justifies recruiting monsters, sorcerers, and killers into the Church’s service. Successes include using the werewolf, necromancer, and elf to protect Alex and secure the throne. Failures occur when those tools rebel—Vigga kills Baptiste; Balthazar plots escape; the Church ends up imprisoning them all. The principle works short-term but creates long-term instability.

2. Compare Alex’s decision to accept her title as Princess Alexia (Chapter 2) with Jakob’s decision not to throw Zizka into the sea (Chapter 71). What do both choices reveal about survival-driven pragmatism?

Answer: Both characters suppress personal desires for a better immediate outcome. Alex trades freedom for safety; Jakob restrains rage to keep the mission viable. The parallel shows that pragmatism requires self-denial and that survival often looks like making a lesser evil into a chosen path.

3. The novel’s symbols—the Papal Binding, the Split Coin Pendant, and Saint Natalia’s Flame—each carry dual meanings. Choose two and explain how they embody the tension between practicality and morality.

Answer: The Papal Binding protects the Church while enslaving the bound characters; it is a practical tool with a moral cost. Saint Natalia’s Flame is a symbol of divine salvation, yet Alex wonders if the devils were its tools, suggesting that “good” outcomes can arise from ugly means. Both symbols show that the line between virtue and expediency is blurry.

4. Balthazar and Baptiste are stripped of their possessions and dignity after the shipwreck. How does their subsequent behavior on the shore and in Serbia epitomize the theme of survival over idealism?

Answer: They instantly rob corpses for clothing and food, ignore the horror of a battlefield to advance their journey, and mock any hesitation as impractical. Baptiste’s retort, “You’re alive, aren’t you?” becomes a mantra: survival is the only metric that matters, and all other values are secondary.

5. At the end of the novel, Cardinal Zizka takes the “devils” back to the Holy City, while Alex keeps Jakob. Does this outcome represent a triumph of pragmatism or a failure of it? Justify your answer with reference to the text.

Answer: It is a pragmatic outcome for the Church—Zizka retains control over the most dangerous assets while letting Alex have the one she trusts. But it also shows pragmatism’s limits: Alex does not get what she truly wants, and the devils remain imprisoned. The arrangement is a compromise that keeps the system running, not a victory for any individual.