The divine set (16.1–3) runs to some twenty-six qualities and needs no gloss beyond noticing its balance — it weds inner virtues (fearlessness, purity, serenity) to outer ones (charity, non-violence, gentleness), and strength (vigour, fortitude) to softness (modesty, compassion). The demonic set is defined first in miniature (16.4 — hypocrisy, arrogance, self-conceit, anger, harshness, ignorance) and then unfolded at length (16.7–18). Its essence is diagnosed at 16.7: “the demonic know not what is to be done nor what is to be refrained from” — they have lost the very compass of pravṛtti and nivṛtti. From this root failure grow their marks: they deny truth and God (16.8), do fierce deeds for the world’s ruin (16.9), are bound by insatiable hope and driven by lust and anger (16.10–12), hoard wealth by any means (16.13), deify themselves (16.14), and perform even worship as hollow show (16.17). The contrast is not between two tribes of people but between two tendencies alive in every heart — for the guṇas of canto 14 are the soil of both.

“Self-conceited, stubborn, filled with the pride and intoxication of wealth, they perform sacrifices in name only (nāma-yajñaiḥ), with hypocrisy, contrary to the ordinance.” Even the demonic worship — but as theatre, for display and status, not from devotion. Here belongs the whole miserable drama of religious one-upmanship: the parading of piety, the sorting of the world into “the faithful” (oneself) and “the infidels” (everyone else), the sacrifice performed to be seen sacrificing. This is worship colonised by ego — the outer form of the daivī filled with the inner substance of the āsurī. The Gītā’s judgment is severe precisely because such hypocrisy wears the costume of the divine.